#*me trying not to scare new people away with my tags and probably failing*

[ballpitwitch]

John Wick: Chapter 4 - Blu-ray Featurettes

[snowblossomreads]

Exhibit 6: Pinky Swears And Theatre Scares

Previous Chapter: Full Up

Summary: Amiee starts her new job and ends up on a movie 'date' with Sinclair.

“Lovely chat Arthur, I’ll send over the numbers to you later today when I get back alright?” There was a long pause as Sinclair half listened to the person on the other side finish talking. “Okay great! Buh bye!” 

A relieved groan escaped his lips the moment he hung the phone up, and was finally free from the meeting that had run over by a good 30 minutes. Ever since he had gotten in that morning, it had been nonstop meetings upon meetings. 

All of it was bullshit though he thought. Just people trying to cover for themselves to make it seem like they were busy. He already had enough on his plate without trying to look busy, as he glanced at the papers and folders sprawled on his desk.

Financial ones, memos from coworkers, and buried underneath those, were probably some things from his solicitor that he needed to take a look at. Yet, with all of that waiting for him, he couldn’t be bothered with i,t as it was not only lunchtime, one of his favorite times, it was also Friday. And unlike most of his Fridays this past year or so, he had plans for that evening. 

Well, maybe. 

He would first have to ask if she was free tonight, and hopefully, she would be. But first things first, lunch.

Picking up the phone again, he dialed a number and it rang twice before the click of it being answered sounded.

“Hello?” 

When the sound of her voice, which was unusually breathy met his ears, he couldn’t stop the grin that erupted on his lips. 

“Amiee! Are you free right now? I’m about to head to lunch and wanted to know if you cared to join? I was thinking Italian! There's a new restaurant that opened a few weeks back and it’s magnificent!”

There was a beat of silence after his question before laughter erupted on the other end of the line and he titled his head, confused at what was so amusing.

“H-hiya Sinclair, yeah sure I’ll tag along! My stomach did start grumbling a bit ago so perfect timing. Do you want me to meet you somewhere or…?”

“No that’s alright I’ll come and pick you up, be right there!”

“Okay see you in a sec, bye!”

“Buh bye!”

Hanging up the phone, he took one last glance at all the papers waiting for him to deal with, before promptly ignoring them in favor of grabbing lunch. He be more efficient once he had something in his stomach, other than the nerves that were currently bouncing about in it. 

A quick walk out of his office to the one that was only a few feet away from his, he knocked on the semi-closed door and didn’t wait for an answer before popping in.

“Here I am ready for-. What are you doing!”

Enthusiasm turned into confusion, and then concern, as his eyes landed on Amiee’s back, while she stood trepidatiously on the sofa that was pushed against the wall. In her hands, was a rather large picture frame that she was attempting, and failing to hang.

Turning her head just enough so that he knew she heard him, she spoke.

“Oh hiya! I was-.” She turned back around and blindly tried to hang the frame once more before she let out a frustrated sound when she missed the nail again. “Aiya! Fucking shite! Just putting this picture up before we went out. It’s been sitting around and I’ve finally gotten the energy to actually do it.” 

“Amiee! Call a janitor or someone to help do it for you!” Panic set in as he practically ran across the room with his hands already outstretched to take the painting from her, only to have her move away from him. “Here put it down you’re going to hurt yourself!”

“No Sinclair I got it I’m up here already!” She protested, as she tried once more to put the thing up only, letting out another whine when she missed the nail a third time. 

If she didn’t do it now, it was going to stay leaned up against her shelf for the next month, because she would either forget to ask for help or, just not want to deal with it. With another huff, she got on her tiptoes to try and reach the nail one more time even as  Sinclair protested behind her. 

Going to try and make sure she didn’t take a tumble off the sofa in case things went tits up, he froze when she reached up to hang the picture once more. Whether she realized it or not, her tiptoeing caused her skirt to ride up her legs, giving him a delicious view of the back of her thighs, which were soft and shapely. 

It had been six years, yet the sight of them had his fingers twitching, memories of being able to touch, and caress the delicate skin immediately began to to plague his mind. And if he wasn’t careful, something else would be plaguing him that was very much not appropriate for a work setting. 

Though his eyes lingered on her as he wondered if she was still as soft as he remembered. Biting his bottom lips and willing the sudden burst of arousal that was trying to spread like fire, he was snapped out of his trance when a sudden exclamation of triumph rang through the air.

“Aha!” 

Turning around, she gave him a pretty grin as she clapped her hands, pleased that she had gotten the picture up on the fourth try.

“There see, told you I didn’t need any help!” Her tone was one of triumph, as she pointed to the picture that was hung against the wall, before she plopped down on the sofa. 

Slipping on her kitten heels, she stood and went to continue about her victory against the picture frame that had been haunting her. That was, until she noticed the concerned expression etched on Sinclair’s face. His brows were furrowed in worry, and his cheeks were also awfully red which gave her some pause. He didn’t even let her get her witty comment out before he was letting out a waterfall of concerns. 

“Amiee you could have fallen and broken something! What would have happened if I didn’t come and you had lost your balance!” 

“Sinclair I-.”

“You could have ended up in hospital or worse!” He fretted, cutting her off once more as he wrung his together hands anxiously. “You have to be more careful please I don’t-!” 

There was a pause as his amber eyes searched her brown ones, his own filled with agitation as he fidgeted even more from the confused look that Amiee was sending him. This wasn’t him, he didn’t act like this, he was in control of himself always, even if his own energy got ahead of him at times. But lately, he felt as if he wasn’t, especially when it came to his emotions.

Whether it be because of his divorce, or the fact that the person who he hoped would have been his wife was suddenly back in his life. He wasn’t sure, but all of it just felt so big and he didn’t know how to handle it. His mind began to wander for a moment about whether to reach out to a therapist or just purchase a self help book, but he was coaxed out of it when he felt a tender squeeze on his forearms.

“Clair, what’s wrong? You don’t what?” The sound of her voice questioning him brought him back down and there was a look of wonder in her eyes as she waited for him. 

His mind was a scrambled mess with all the feelings that were swirling around, but she patiently waited for him. Even as the silence bordered uncomfortable, she waited, not rushing him for an answer that he normally would already have. Her warm eyes felt like safety as she gazed at him, and the feeling of her hand on his arm seemed to calm him enough so that he could say something to break the quietness of the moment. 

“We’ve just…” He trailed off again, looking for the right words for the moment as he bit his lower lip. 

God he had read so many books, and he knew four languages fluently yet he couldn’t find the right words. What a mess he was.

“I just…I don’t want anything to happen to you. You’ve already had to spend a lot of time in hospital. Not for you of course I know that,” he added quickly to clarify what he meant. “And plus.” Lowering his eyes to the ground, a bashful look came across Sinclair’s features.

It was a bit unusual coming from Sinclair. Someone so confident that he lit up the whole room when he walked in. But now, he stood with his hands behind his back and his eyes not meeting her own, just like a little puppy who was scared and had its tail between its legs.

“I think six years of not seeing each other is more than enough; I don’t want us to have to keep adding on to that.”

His words sat in the air for a moment as he was hesitant to look up. A feeling of vulnerability that he hadn’t felt since finding out that Natalie had been cheating on him washed over him. But this was a different type of vulnerability, not a constricting one filled with confusion and hurt and anger, but a strange comforting type. 

The type you can only be with someone you know wouldn’t judge you for the flaws you possessed, but love you in spite of them. With Natalie, he couldn’t remember if he felt that positive type of vulnerability, yet it seemed Amiee could pull it right out of him without even trying. 

“Six years is a long time,” she agreed quietly, drawing Sinclair out of his thoughts only to find her gazing wistfully out the window. 

Sensing he was looking at her, she gave her his attention, a small endearing smile on her face. It made her look so soft. 

“I’m sorry Clair, but you know it’s just how I am. Always doing something silly so I don’t have to be a bother,” she explained, yet there was a moment where her smile dropped as if she remembered something unpleasant before it returned. “What do they say, something about doing it yourself if you want it right?”

“If you want something right do it yourself!” He corrected brightly causing her to grin knowing it would have that effect on him. “ They say that and it’s one of my favorite things about you! You’re always doing things on your own, never asking for help and being brilliant at it. But you can always ask for my help you know that, right? You’ve never been a bother!”

The way he said it almost made her heart break along with the grin he showed her. Full of warm sincerity and earnestness that she could never not believe him. Matter of fact, she had always believed that he would do anything he could for her. She just wished she thought she was deserving of it.

‘Oh enough of that Amiee!’  

“Okay. I promise from now on, that if I do anything that may cause injury or death, I’ll phone you before doing it,” she said jokingly causing him to grin ear to ear. “Here look I’ll even pinky swear with you.” 

Holding out her pinky, because she was very much serious about it, Sinclair couldn’t stop the loud guffawing laughter that left his lips at the sight. This was so very silly, yet it didn’t stop him from coming closer to her offering up his pinky and his own promise.

“Yes yes! And I promise I’ll come running to you no matter what! To either stop you or help you!”

Their digits entwined, his larger finger wrapped around her smaller one causing her to giggle as they gave each other bright grins before they ‘shook’ on their promise.  

“Excellent! Now that I’ve taken off a few years of your life, do you still fancy letting me tag along to lunch? Or do you need to recuperate?”

“Never! I mean I could never tire of you,” he corrected, as they dropped their hands from one another, even though there was a yearning to hold it again. “But yes lunch let’s go. I think I’ve worked up even more of an appetite than normal after that scare.”

“Well, that just means double the appetizers!” Amiee pointed out.

“And maybe entrees!"

“Oh my god Sinclair can we please come back to this place,” Amiee groaned as she slid halfway down her seat. 

Food coma was already starting to sit in as the waiter cleared the table of their entrees, and she didn’t know how she was going to put down the dessert they had ordered. It would get done one way or another, and if she got a stomach ache afterwards well so be it. She wasn’t going to let any of it go to waste.

“It’s delicious isn’t it!” Sinclair praised with far more energy than she had, which was unsurprising. However, she suspected he would be napping after lunch because he would always close his door afterwards. Could it be him taking meetings, yes, but she had an inkling it was a meeting with his sofa.

“I’ve been here five times already since they opened and I think it’s my favorite in the area. Oh, you have to try the linguine frutti di mare when we come back. The seafood is so fresh you’ll love it, it’s divine!’ 

“Don’t tell me that Sinclair or  I’ll end up coming for dinner tonight! Plus I have food at home waiting for me and I don’t want it going bad.”

Unknowingly she had set up a perfect moment for him to ask the question that had been burning in his mind since the start of the day. This was his moment!

“So! You can just eat that for a late night snack if you get peckish during the night. I try not to do that because it gives me heartburn, but I can’t go to bed with an empty stomach it’s impossible!” He happily chattered before remembering what he was going to say.

“Plus I was going to ask if you wanted to come to the cinema with me tonight?” He proposed happily,  “A business partner of ours gave me tickets for an early showing of this new film, I think it’s called Candyman? It’s coming out in the autumn and I thought ‘oh, Amiee would like this!’”

Whether it was the offer of going to watch a film with him, or the genre of the film itself, Amiee’s eyes widened slightly, a bit taken aback by the invitation. Being asked to watch a film with him was not something she thought would be asked today but, she wasn’t going to say no! Especially, if she got to spend more time with him outside of work. 

“Sinclair, you know that’s a horror film right? And last time I checked you hated those,” she pointed out as she took a sip of her water before continuing, “all of the trailers I’ve seen have been pretty suspenseful and a bit well erm horror-esque, which I love don’t get me wrong! But uhm are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure! Plus I don’t hate them! I just think they should be a little more logical. Like, tell me why do people always split up in those movies? It’s always their downfall!”

Sitting back up as she tried to recover from all the food in her, Amiee laughed at his example. He was right; she never understood the whole ‘let’s split up’ thing in the movies. Did no one ever learn the phrase there’s strength in numbers? Apparently not.

“Or you know when there’s a trail of blood and they follow it?” She added, as she rested her elbows on the table and placed her chin on top of the back of her hands as she smiled up at him. “Especially when they’re defenseless! Like what is your plan if the murderer is still there?” 

That seemed to rile him up some more, and she couldn’t hide the amusement she was getting from it. He so hated when things weren’t logical and horror movies to him were far from logical.

“Exactly! I just don’t get it! That’s why I don’t like them, they don’t make sense at all.” 

His tirade finished just as the waiter returned with their desserts. A piece of tiramisu for her, and for him, a slice of cheesecake topped with strawberries along with a bowl of fluffy chocolate mousse.

As soon as they thanked the waiter, Sinclair was digging into his dessert, all but groaning at how creamy the cheesecake filling was. Being so engrossed with his food, he wasn’t expecting to see Amiee staring at him when he went to ask how her dessert was.

Though he did note the twinkle in her eyes, and the way her lips quirked and formed a tiny mischief smirk. It was a familiar expression he had seen before, and he wondered what she was up to.

“Mmp-what?” He asked before another piece of cheesecake was in his mouth. “Thisisdelicious.” 

“So let me get this right, you don’t like horror because most of them are illogical yes?” She questioned, picking up her spoon and digging into her dessert.  

A tiny groan left her lips, as the taste of coffee, and mascarpone combined with cocoa powder, and lady fingers, created a nice and creamy dessert that wasn’t too sweet and had different flavor notes.

“This is good, not too sweet, can really taste the coffee and cream!” She praised enjoying that her teeth didn’t hurt the moment she bit into it like it would some desserts. 

“Isn’t it! I would say it’s my favorite but I like all of them,” he admitted freely as he scooped some mousse up and ate it. A happy groan left his lips at the taste as he remembered he had been asked a question. “But yes you could say that.”

“Mhmm, so what you’re saying is all those times you ended up halfway on my lap when we watched them was not because of the jump scares, but because they bored you out of your mind because of how illogical they are?”

Clearly, there was a teasing lilt in her voice,  which matched her playful demeanor. Yet, it still caused Sinclair to pause in his eating, as the cutest pout appeared on his thin lips, and all she could think about was kissing them. His brows were furrowed as he narrowed his eyes and he let out a low whine of her name.

“I can’t believe you’re bringing that up here,” he whined, much like a dejected puppy while his gaze turned down and poked at his food. 

“Aw I’m sorry love, only trying to take the piss out of you, ” she tittered. 

Leaning over the table, she reached over to stroke the hand that was resting on the table with her thumb in hopes of giving him a bit of comfort. There was a slight zing again as her fingers touched his hand, yet it was much less intense than how she felt when he hugged her in his office when they met again. Finally, she was getting used to being able to touch him again and it was more than she could have ever hoped for honestly.

“You know I never minded. Just like how you never minded having to lug me into bed whenever you found me asleep in some random place, which,” she added playfully as she leaned back and settled into her chair. “Is what you’ll have to do if we come back tonight for dinner because I’m liable to fall asleep in the car.”

The insinuation of her agreeing to come to the cinema with him seemed to perk him right up. That and getting to come back to the restaurant later tonight. But mostly getting to spend more time with her had him cheering up. It was something they hadn’t had too much time to do, as they had both been busy the past few weeks so this was perfect.

“That’s okay! I did that when we were in Manchester and it’ll be like you said, just like old times.”

A bashful smile flitted across Amiee’s face as she looked down at her hands, her face warming as she remembered waking up next to him those mornings. Curled up and feeling safe even if her world was trying to fall apart. 

She would be lying if she said she didn’t think about those moments every day she woke up. What it would be like to wake up beside him again. God, she missed it.  But maybe with this unofficial date, they were one step closer? She really hoped so.

“Well, then Clair, it sounds like we have ourselves a… date?” 

There was a bit of trepidation in her voice as she asked him. But there was also thinly veiled hope in it that she almost wanted him to hear. 

It seemed though that he had heard or at least caught on to what she was saying as there was a sudden burst of warmth that bloomed in his stomach. Before he knew it, that warmth was radiating from his stomach, to the full smile on his face that had grown without him noticing it. 

“Yes! It’s a date!”

Neither of them knew how they survived the rest of the work day after they returned from lunch, solely because their minds were focused on their evening outing. Sinclair, who was normally very much dedicated to his work, was very much the opposite, as his brain bounced from thing to thing. 

He had the hardest time focusing on any of the papers that were piled up, only thinking about why time wasn’t moving quicker as he was eager to hang out with Amiee.

Amiee was the same way of course. While not as busy as Sinclair was at the moment, she could hardly focus on the training manuals that she needed to look over. Her brain was buzzing with anticipation, and she found herself pacing around the office more than once. Stopping from time to time, to stare out the window as her mind wandered to everything that wasn’t work.

When the clock finally struck five, Sinclair was the first out of his seat as he quickly and haphazardly packed some documents in his briefcase. He would take a look at them in his home office tomorrow, he had more exciting things to look forward to tonight. Rushing out of the office, he was met with a startled look from Sarah who had only started packing her bags. 

“Leaving already Sinclair,” she asked, pausing her packing as she watched him fiddle with the keys to his office.

“Yes!” His tone was more enthusiastic than normal, and a sheepish smile appeared on his lips as he turned to look at her. “Yes,” he repeated more calmly, yet still radiating that bright energy of his. “I have some things to do at home tonight and I wanted to get back early. I know! Very peculiar for me to be leaving so early but it’s been brewing in the back of my mind for days. Don’t let the other know you’ve seen me leaving okay?”

“O-Oh okay, no problem I guess.” It wasn’t like she was going to tell anyone anyway. “Well have a good weekend!”

“You too, buh bye!” He answered, waving back at her and briskly walking away, leaving a very confused secretary who just shrugged and went back to her packing.

When they arrived at the venue, Amiee briefly wondered if they had turned up in the wrong place because this was not your average cinema. Expecting to see the normal brick building and maybe some glass here or there. She was surprised to see them pulling up to a building that was basically like an art school of some sort. 

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” She asked dumbfoundedly as Sinclair helped her out of the car.

“Yep! They usually do the private screenings of the new films here or sometimes at one of the galleries near Kensington.” He explained as they walked up the steps of the building.

For a Friday night, it wasn’t too busy, but granted, it was a private event, so she shouldn’t have expected a whole lot of people from the public meandering around.

“Wow, never thought I be at a rich person’s cinema,” she mused out loud before she immediately felt the need to lower her voice as they entered the place. “Must be nice to not hear all the talking and carrying on in the public ones. Though I don’t see a concessions booth, and I’m not sure if I appreciate that or not. Do we get like seat side service?”

“I don’t know, I quite like being in the cinema with others, it makes for a good ambience. Some of the ones in the area have gotten upgrades with their furniture and sound as well! But also yes to your point there isn’t usually food here,” he sighed as if it was the worst crime that the place had committed. “I don’t come often because of that, I think the last time I was here it was last summer with Natalie-.” 

There was a sudden pause in his speech, and Amiee looked up to catch a forlorn look that crossed his features.

Natalie? Was that the name of his wife? Or soon to be ex-wife? There was this incessant urge to pry a bit more into what had happened because she still wasn’t aware of what had gone on. Call her nosy, but she was just curious about what had happened that caused Sinclair to clam up anytime anything about this mysterious ex was brought up.

But that was maybe for another day, because she didn’t want to ruin a night of fun with questions about the woman. Plus, it couldn’t have been at all good, which only made Amiee dislike her even if they hadn’t ever met. She hoped it stayed that way. 

“No food?” Her tone was incredulous as Sinclair handed a man standing by another door the entry tickets. After he gave the passes a quick check, he let them through to the main screening portion of the theatre. “I would have shoved some crisps or something in my purse if you had told me that beforehand,” she continued, steering the conversation away from the unpleasant subject as they searched for an empty pair of seats. “When I was in uni, one of my friends brought a whole meal into the theatre. Snuck it right in with her purse and no one even knew.”

His expression relaxed as she told her story, and he couldn’t help the warm chuckle that left him as he led them to an empty spot.

“That was a brilliant idea from you friend though, how put off would you be if I asked you to shove some sandwiches in your bag next time we do this?”  

“Well, as long as you share I’ll do it, but if we get caught I’m going to act like I don’t know you.” 

Sinclair feigned a hurt expression, his brows drawn, and a little pout on lips that made Amiee want to laugh, but she held it in, a smirk being the sign of amusement on her face.

“Of course I would share with you! But now that you're threatening to leave me to fend for myself, I’m not sure if I want to!”

“I’m teasing Clair, I'm teasing. I would never rat you out to the theatre authorities. You know that’s not my style. We’re just gonna have to make a run for it if they catch up.”

“We can throw a sandwich on the floor and make them slip just like if it was a banana peel,” Sinclair added, but quickly retracted it at the thought of food waste. “Wait no we can’t sacrifice the food- Oh look the movie’s starting I think!” He whispered enthusiastically as the lights in the room began to dim and the screen began to brighten.

Giving each other one more grin, the two of them settled in to watch the film.

The movie was terrific. Well to Amiee that is. It was a good thing that the place didn’t provide popcorn, though to be honest it was pretty cheap of them not to. So fancy yet no snacks, she was surprised Sinclair wasn’t bothered by that. 

Granted if they did have popcorn, most of it would have been on the floor if he had been in charge of it. He had jumped over five times during the first half of the movie. And honestly, him getting startled did more to scare Amiee than the actual movie. 

“Oh my god, why are there bees in his mouth? What is he about to do,” Sinclair stuttered out as he watched the Candyman grab the main character, Helen, before kissing her. 

Sinclair made a gagging sound as one hand went to cover his eyes, so he could avoid watching the bees swarm down the poor woman's throat. His fingers were gripping the armrest so hard that Amiee was sure it was going to leave a permanent dent when they were done. 

“Okay but what would happen if she was allergic to bees? Wouldn’t that mess up his whole plan if she died right then from shock?” Amiee whispered to Sinclair who was trying to block out the whole thing. She was serious though! Why this man was trying to ruin his own plan? 

“And if not, what if she chokes on them? Come on he’s dead he should know these things!” She continued unfazed by what was being shown as she had been the entire time. 

Well, that was just slightly untrue as both of them had let out pitiful sounds at the fate of a side character’s dog.

“No not the puppy.”

They had both whimpered as they watched the scene that could have been left out for all they cared. Poor Sinclair seemed to be affected by it the worst out of them both. Of course, he would be, he was part puppy and seeing anything happen to his family was upsetting.

The moment had him laying his head on her shoulder as he looked away from the screen. His face buried as if trying to hide away, and instinctively Amiee’s hand went to stroke his head as the scene played out. Sinclair stayed like that until Amiee gave him the all clear, but of course, he stayed on edge the entire time. 

Their hands stayed tucked together the rest of the movie and up until Sinclair got Amiee into the car before they drove back to the Wharf for dinner.

“I admit the plot and lore was fascinating. But I’ll never be able to look at bees again in the same way,” Sinclair blanched as the waiter took their menus away after they finished their orders. “And then the poor puppy! Amiee, they didn’t have to hurt it,” he whined, still upset about that part of the movie. “I think I may have nightmares tonight.”

“If it makes you feel any better I bet the pup got a lot of treats that day during shooting,” Amiee offered in hopes of cheering him up seeing as he was mainly upset about the dog. “I bet they used jam or something for the effects and had to keep it from licking it all up. It was probably a fun day for it!”

“Now that you mention it! I know one of the tricks they use to get dogs to lick someone is to put flavored grease on the person,” Sinclair pointed out happily. “ I read it in a movie magazine before and thought that’s brilliant of them. I’d be enticed by the smell of bacon grease too, and I’m not even a dog!”

‘Well not a four-legged one but there are definitely some puppy genes in there.’

Amiee thought to herself as she tried to avoid laughing to herself.

“Yeah! It was probably the same as this movie. Maybe we should see if they can add some bloopers in the credits where we get to see the dog rolling around,” she joked swirling the lemon in her water before taking a sip. “Plus, we don’t need you staying up all night when you have an early morning tomorrow.”  

The statement garnered a puzzled look from Sinclair who didn’t understand what she meant. He didn’t think he had anything he had to do in the morning. Unless he was missing something, which he didn’t think he was.

“I do?” He asked, along with an adorable tilt of his head to the side that had her ‘awwing’ internally.

“Yes! I mean…Well actually now that you’re asking me I don’t know!” She laughed. “Don’t you go into the office on Saturday mornings, you’d always used to,” she pointed out, before giving him a cheeky smile. “Unless you’re telling me that you’ve finally fallen out of love with work.”

She always thought it was a bit strange that he went to work on Saturday mornings. Wasn’t forty hours a week and occasionally fifty enough? When she asked him about it one day, he simply just said he liked it, and it helped him keep up with all the work he had. 

Secretly though, she always thought it was to catch up on work he hadn’t done due to his time management. Or lack thereof. Even as perfect as he was, he needed a flaw. Hiding her laughter she listened to him.

“Oh well no, I erm,” he paused for a moment thinking of a way to explain the situation while carding his hand through his hair. He thought and thought and yet there wasn’t any other way but to directly say it. 

“Well you see…oh god this is such a weird place to be talking about this,” he chuckled nervously, even though there was no humor in his voice and his hand had dropped to fidget with his fingers.

“Then we don’t have to,” she replied swiftly, not meaning to bring up anything heavy. “Sorry didn’t mean to rain on the parade, I just always thought it was funny that you went in on Saturdays. You couldn’t pry me from my bed if I didn’t have to be anywhere,” she grinned.

“You’re such a sleepyhead,” he teased, causing Amiee to give him a proud look before a thoughtful look crossed his features. “But no, please don’t apologize, it's not like you would have known. It’s just, well…” He trailed off with a shake of his head before answering truthfully. 

“I stopped going in because, during marriage counseling, the therapist asked me to. They believed it would help mend the issues that had caused us to have to go in the first place.” He explained to her. “It didn’t, hence the divorce, but I did find out I do actually enjoy a nice lie in during the weekend.”

Listening intently up to the end, she couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Sinclair. He did what he was asked to do, and she assumed that he did try but it didn’t work. Though he did gain something at the end which had her ears perking up. 

“Sinclair?” 

“Hmm?”

Taking a breath, she spoke.

“This is going to make me sound like a right arse but.” There was a pause as she looked at him, a waiting expression on his face before she finished with, “I’m pretty sure I told you that before!”

By the way his eyebrows raised, he hadn’t been expecting that statement to come from her. Even more confused than before he blurted out, “you did?”

“About the lie in thing? Yes!” Her voice was higher than normal as she tried to keep herself from falling over with laughter. She didn’t know why it was so funny but it was, especially paired with the surprised look on his face. “You slept like an absolute log on Saturday mornings when I would stay over. I don’t know why’d you ever torture yourself going in like that.”

“See but that was easy! Do you know how cozy it is to sleep with you-?”

There was a sudden pause, and he could feel his cheeks becoming warm at his terrible word choice. Brown eyes that had widened at his statement stared at him, and he could see a pale red blush begin to spread across her face. 

‘Damnit don’t embarrass her!’

The voice in his head chided him even though in reality Amiee wasn’t embarrassed at all. More flattered than anything. 

“No sorry I-I mean!” Spluttering and tripping over his words, he fumbled for a moment more before carefully stringing the words he found together. “It was nice to have someone that didn’t mind being held or you know, have someone who liked to hang off your back like a kola…it’s very cute, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

What? Did his ex not cuddle with him often? She needed to meet this woman and find out her problem because who wouldn’t want to cuddle with Sinclair? You know what, never mind, maybe it was for the best that they didn’t meet.

“Well, then I’ll have you know that I for one am glad that you are taking the advice and staying home now on Saturdays,” she chirped truthfully. “You work too hard. It's admirable, but also don’t go working yourself to death! I need someone to spot me when I’m being dangerous.”

He grinned warmly at her statement and all she could do was sigh internally. How was one person so handsome, sweet and playful? It was truly easy for her to forget about her problems with him.

“I will try not to! But also please don’t, it would scar me,” he half joked as it probably would do that.“Anyways, enough about me! What do you have planned? I hope that flat hunting is in the cards because I still don’t like where you’re living. It’s not safe.”

Of course he didn’t.

“Sinclair it’s perfectly safe where I live. I’ve been there for almost two years and the only danger to me is my flat itself,” she joked even though it didn’t seem funny to him. 

He just pouted at her and she resisted the urge to playfully roll her eyes at him. She knew he meant well, but she was also used to living in places that were a bit rough around the edges.

That didn’t mean he was wrong though, she did need to find a new place. Not only because she wanted to be closer to the office as the hour commute both ways was draining, but also because she needed an extra room for when Angie came to stay with her.

“If it pleases the court to know,” she informed, sarcasm dripping from her voice, “I’ll probably be moving in autumn after I save a bit.” And it did seem to put him at ease as he let out a pleased ‘good’ while she could only shake her head humorously at him.

“But for tomorrow I’m actually going home! Angie’s getting out of hospital and I was gonna spend a few days with my parents and her. Make sure she’s alright.”

This was the first time Sinclair had heard about this, and his face absolutely brightened at the good news. He knew she had gone back one more time since the initial visit but that was about it. 

“Amiee that’s wonderful!” He exclaimed warmly, his eyes shining while Amiee’s cheeks hurt more than usual at how much she had been smiling. “I’m so glad to hear she’s alright. Do you need my help or anything? Since I’ll be at home I can take you if you want? I quite liked the visit last time oh- no that’s not what I meant. I mean you know it had been a while since I went there, not that the situation was any good.”

“I know what you mean Clair,” she said, saving him as she shook her head with a chuckle. “But no, it’s fine. I’ll probably go sometime in the afternoon since I’m going to stay till maybe Wednesday. But it’s great. I’m just super, super happy I don’t have to see her with that tube again. It’s just…ugh.” 

Just the thought of her sister in hospital made her stomach churn and she tried to push the thoughts as far away as possible. All that mattered now was that she was better, and they could figure it all out after she was home and on the mend.

“Do you know if she’s going to be alright? I mean you know…I’ve read that with things like that it only takes a few minutes to impact the brain and it can damage-.” Stopping his spiel abruptly, Sinclair looked down for a moment as if a thought crossed his mind before he returned his attention to Amiee who patiently waited. “Oh actually, I shouldn't bring something like that up. I’ve been trying to keep in mind that it’s not appropriate when it comes to stuff like that, sorry.”

What he said was a little off putting as she hadn’t at all found it inappropriate. He liked to share information, and it was always accurate when it came to whatever subject they talked about so she didn’t mind. 

Plus, it just meant he cared about what he was talking about and wanted others to know. She wondered briefly if his therapist also told him that. Granted she was getting the idea that it may also have been influenced by someone else. She grimaced at the thought.

“No, no it’s okay! It’s the truth and something the docs were looking out for as well,” she explained. “But thankfully, when I talked to her the other day, even though she sounded a bit croaky, which fair I would be too if I had a tube shoved down my throat. It seems like her motor functions will be fine, and they just want her to do a few months in physical therapy.” 

“Thank goodness! That’s scary stuff and I’m glad she’s okay,” he sighed in relief. “Will you tell her I said hello when you see her? Maybe I can send some flowers with you to take to her as well?”

“Clair no you don’t have to! I’ll tell her you said hello though, she’s going to flip out probably knowing that we work together again.”

This piqued his curiosity, as did most things in life, but this really interested him.

“Really how come?”

It was Amiee’s turn to look down and away from him, hiding her face as she tried to figure out how to tell him her sister was a raging romantic, and would probably go crazy knowing they were ‘together’ again. 

“Oh god, erm how do I explain,” she laughed nervously as she tucked a short strand of hair behind her ear.“Just know Angie used to consider you as one of my ‘bad’ decisions. But in a good way.”

“I don’t follow, a bad decision? In a good way?” Again an adorable head tilt followed his confusion. “Those can’t exist, they’re the complete opposite of each other?” 

“Well okay, how about I put it like this, from the last I read, London’s a city of almost 7 million right?”

“Yes, that's what the BBC showed a few months back. We’re growing at a steady rate.”

“Right, So I don’t think it’s a stretch to say, it’s a bloody miracle that I applied to where you work, and that Arthur happened to not come in, leading you to be the one I had to talk to.”

There was a thoughtful expression on Sinclair’s features as he pondered what that had anything to do with why her sister would freak out. But slowly, he started to get the image and the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. To say he was merely happy was an understatement.

“Rubbish!” He exclaimed, startling her before grinning at her reaction. “Is what I would have said, because where’s the logic in that? But, when you put it that way, statistically a lot of things had to go right for us to run into each other again.”

“Exactly! I’m glad you agree,” she nodded. “And I don’t know about you but I’m proper chuffed that things somehow turned out this way.”

“Me too! I’m happy you’re here Amiee and I hope you don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon. If you do, I’ll be sure to follow. There are billions of people in the world, and I don’t want you to get lost among them.”

Because he would be damned if he lost her again. 

A warmth bloomed in her tightening chest at his words. His amber eyes were bright, and warm, just like a crackling fireplace on a cool autumn day. The smile he wore radiated that same feeling, as he declared how happy he was, even though just from how he looked, at her one could properly tell how he felt. It caused feelings that swirled in her to push at her, wanting her to get up from her seat and hug him. To never leave again and to stay put with him. 

But, she did her best not to succumb to them as her mind constantly reminded her it was too early. That even if her heart, still entangled with his wanted more, she should wait because things had changed and they needed to tread carefully. At least she could promise him she wouldn’t leave again, because truthfully, she didn’t think she could survive that heartbreak a second time.

So with a shake of her head, she smiled at him, a gentle smile that was illuminated by the warm orange lights of the restaurant. A smile that made him forget that there were other people around as everything became background noise. It was just her and him as she spoke.

“No, not this time. Promise.”

By the time they had finished eating, and Sinclair had gotten them back to her flat, it was almost midnight, and they were both absolutely knackered. Helping her get out of the car, Sinclair led her up the stairs to her flat. Her hand comfortably resting in his as they chatted and laughed up until they made it to her door.

“Well this is me,” she yawned, her body alerting her once more that it was past her bedtime after the fun evening. “Thanks for the film and dinner. And I’m going to pay you back one day I swear.” The last part added on as she had been unsuccessful again at paying for their meal.

“You’re welcome and I absolutely won’t accept it unless! You being around is payment enough!”

“Well if you put it like that how can I say no?” She beamed, causing him to reciprocate her gesture with a grin of his own before they laughed. “But really, thank you for tonight Clair, I had such a good time. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve laughed till my face started hurting!”

“Me too! Hopefully…we can do something like this again soon?” He asked hesitantly, not wanting to make it seem as if he was pushing her to do anything. 

“I would love that! Maybe we can talk about it some when I get back to town? How’s that sound?”

“That’s absolutely perfect!”

His little shout of happiness was accompanied by him squeezing her hand, reminding her that they were indeed holding hands once more. His larger one engulfed her smaller one and she couldn’t help but enjoy the comfort it brought as she squeezed his back.

“Well, it’s getting late and while you’re lucky to get to snooze in, I have a train to catch tomorrow,” Amiee pointed out as she stroked his hand with her thumb absentmindedly. “Drive safe and please call me when you get home okay?”

“I will! And…will you do the same when you have time tomorrow? When you get settled of course!” He added not wanting to seem overbearing, but just wanting to make sure she was safe.

“Of course,” she nodded before they stood in silence. 

It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was a feeling of underlying energy as they watched one another. Waiting to see who would move first to do anything. If one of her neighbours came out at that moment, they would think they had interrupted a pair of lovers with how close the two were. 

“Night night Clair,” Amiee whispered to break the stillness as she looked up at him. Even in the dim light, his eyes shone bright as they stayed trained on her. 

“Good night Amiee,” he responded in a murmur as he watched her carefully, admiring how she added beauty to any setting they were in. Even in the hallway of her building.

They stood for a moment, hands intertwined for a little longer before they let go of one another. Lingering for a bit to just say goodbye one more time, Sinclair waved before he made his way down the hallway. Amiee watched until he disappeared around a corner before she let herself into her flat which was illuminated by the hallway light.

Kicking her shoes off and relocking the door, she stood there quietly, her back facing the entrance as her mind raced with thoughts. A loud exhale left her lips before she found her back against the door, and she couldn’t stop the smile that brightened her expression as she wrapped her arms around herself. 

Similarly, as Sinclair sat in his car, the radio turned low to provide background noise, he looked in the direction of her flat’s building. Resting against his seat and thinking of all the emotions he had felt that day, he noted that most, if not all of them, were feelings of fondness. It felt good as it had been a while since he had felt that way and it was all because of her. 

Still staring in the direction of her flat, he noticed a light illuminating from her window that was not on earlier. A sense of comfort washed over him knowing she was inside safe and he knew it was okay for him to leave. So giving the building one last glance, he whispered a tender,

“Good night darling.”

A/N: Ekkk i had so much fun with this chapter! I hope it makes up for how angsty the past chapters have been. These two deserve some fluff haha. I'll probably be a while in updating again (as if i'm ever quick) as I think I want to finish more chapters before posting but we will see.

[haet-sal]

Hug in A Letter // juhaknyeon x reader

Told in a series of letters. Haknyeon never thought he’d find the person that’s the sole reason he’s alive again, or that his life would continue… and yet, now he’s in university doing both those things.

Tags: ANGST, haknyeon x reader, FLUFF, lover from the past/meant to be type of romance, cold!reader, shy!hak

Warnings: scars on wrists and arms (cause unexplained), bullying, Y/n is a rigid bitch, miscommunication, love triangle but not really

W.c.:8.8k💗💞💗💗💞

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

Dear Y/n,

You probably don’t remember me, huh?

That’s a weird way to start a letter.

Why am I weird about this? It’s not like you’d ever read it…

Sorry, I’m not a letter guy. But I just had to talk to you and if it is in the form of unread ink then let it be. I just…

I never thought I’d see you again.

Really. You were an angel that appeared to me that winter day, purer than the snow around me, even when that dirty maroon blood was tainting it: you wiped the blood off my lips with the back of your hand, and when it stained your skin, I pulled away you said:

It’ll be okay.

That’s what you said.

Today you were with your friends when I saw you. We’re in the same year. Of course we’re in the same year. It’s not news to me. It’s just…

You joined the photography club. I realized it when you were behind me, signing up for the same thing. You wrote your name under mine, and for a minute I just gawked, before I told myself to keep walking. I don’t want you to hate me.

My father’s been telling me I need to socialize like a real college student, that if I keep acting like a loser that’s all I’ll ever be. He says I should stop acting so haunted by the past, because nothing can hurt me now, but I always feel like I’m still in that snow. Not that I’m doing this for him. I’m not even doing it to see you—I know you would never like me, of course I do. I’m just… Photography sounds fun. It’s something I used to enjoy, before I became The Monster That Fails to Enjoy Anything.

Legitimate title. My sister made it up on our family vacation.

I’m still recoiling from the whiplash of having you stand there, right in front of me, or well, behind me once I turned around, anyway.

I must have turned around with my head down for a long time, because when I looked up you were walking with your friend, ahead of me.

Already people were whispering things about you, things I knew and didn’t know, like: you’ve spent a good chunk of your life overseas (knew that), your brother Younghoon is a model (knew that), your family’s famous (which I knew, more or less).

The Photography club wanted to initiate us this very night, and just before I got into the hall they rented for this, I kind of wanted to back out. Just walk backwards, say sorry, no one would miss me anyway. I wanted to see you, y/n, but also… I didn’t…

I was just scared. You’d think I’d get over all these fears after everything that happened, but really I just became more and more of a clockwork robot broken by anxiety.

One of the initial seniors from the photography club convinced me to go.

“N-no,” I said, “I’m okay.” These days my voice doesn’t reach as loud, but I hoped it was loud enough to hear—only, of course, he doesn’t care what I want.

“Come on!” His name was Jaehyun. “It’s more fun the more people we have, you’ll have fun.” I guess I got the better end of it, because the female members he recruited and persuaded into attending the club night by several winks and… this weird flirty thing he does with his eyes that makes them fall all over him.

But he knew I was nervous, so he walked me into the club, and was also the one to offer me a seat next to him, in the front row in front of the stage.

I didn’t get to look back into the crowd to see if you were there, so I tried to concentrate on the group activities, which is something I should do if I’m trying to be normal, and there was:

President Choi Chanhee, who was actually a photography major already signed to some art gallery that wants to show his photos

Ahn Sohyun, the vice-president of the club, an impressive feat since she was only a year above us.

And the new freshmen introduced themselves one by one: me, Donghyuck, Kevin Moon, a girl named Rachel, Changmin… you.

You mumbled your name like you were embarrassed to be here but I heard it nonetheless, and when you were speaking I finally got a chance to look at you—not to be creepy, but… to make sure it was you.

I mean, of course it is. You look like you, and your name… I guess I was just never sure if you existed for real, like you’re someone I only see on TV, so whenever you’re in the same room with me, it’s just…

The freshmen started to dance and have snacks after that, classic initiation night, I guess. It’s the end of summer but still feels like the middle of it, and the night was hot and everyone’s already discarded their jackets in a pile.

I’m the only one still standing with my hoodie zipped all the way up.

At first I tried to look for you, but I quickly gave up. I don’t even know what I’d say to you. It would be weird if I just kept sitting when everyone was either drinking or eating or dancing, so I tried to walk around, keeping my eyes on the ground—it’s a habit I learned a long time ago, a habit I can’t unlearn because eye contact scares me—and then I spot you, you’re talking to Choi Chanhee, about his photos and his major. I don’t even know what your major is.

The party transformed completely into a dance thing, and everyone was now crowding around the stage, where they encouraged freshmen to get up and dance, one by one. You were spared the treatment, because everyone was rather afraid of you, or were in awe—either way, you didn’t need to subject yourself to embarrassment like that.

Someone pushed me into the stage lights, I guess it was my turn–and I just froze there, on stage, and everyone’s looking. I search for you but I can’t see through the blinding lights.

“Haknyeon’s cute,” someone says.

“Haknyeon-ah! Do you have abs?”

“Show us!”

I tried to get off the stage, but just like 5 years ago I’m pushed back, there’s no way to escape, and I’m back under the lights again, and everyone’s laughing—not at me, I know that, but there’s no way to control the rapid beating of my heart.

“You’re sweating.” Rachel reached over and pulled the zipper of my hoodie down, and then quickly, with action that shows she works the coat room at restaurants, slid the hoodie off my sleeves.

I should have worn a long sleeved shirt. But I like the one I had on then, you know? I like the color of it…

At home I just walk around with short sleeves, sometimes less—my scars don’t scare me, and I’ve been living with them for, like, 4 years? 5? It’s just a part of me now. All the itching and extra skin and discoloration, it’s a part of me now.

I guess when people see it it makes them want to touch and observe me like a lab rat.

But everybody in the room did that side-eyed glance at my scars, the kind where they’re apologetic about the curiosity, but they still stare—

And that’s when I realized all the attention was on me. Even you—you were watching me, too, except you didn’t have that friendly, initiation-night smile like everybody. You had a blank stare, dark eyes like doll’s eyes, so tough but stunning. And you looked like you were bored of me, which, I have to admit, I’m bored of myself too.

But everybody else certainly wasn’t bored. They were intrigued, disgusted, whatever else—by the scars on my arms. I gingerly put my hoodie back on, while you just looked away.

So you don’t remember me?

Rachel was the one that handed me the hoodie back—it wouldn’t help me now, but it would palliate the staring—and when I looked back at you, you’re talking to Chanhee again, although he looked distracted.

The party went on all night, and I had half a mind to just stay for half of it, and after the scar thing no one talked to me, anyway. There was free beer, though, so I drank a little. It would be weird if I walked out after that scene—but also no one was talking to me.

I lounged around for a bit in the room, but suddenly someone takes me by the arm, and I’m walking unwillingly out the hall.

It’s Ji Changmin, who is nice enough. He grins at me. “We needed some fresh air,” he says, “here, I bought you your own cold one.” It was a beer.

It was club night all over campus, so there were people from every club walking around us, as we sat on a bench behind the garden statue, shrouded in the dark.

“It’s alright,” Changmin told me. “It’s not on you that everyone is a freak.”

I don’t like that word, as much as I use it on me. Plus, the fact that they stare makes me the freak, not them.

“If they stare, it’s because they’re mannerless bastards. Not because of anything you did.”

We just sipped from our cans in turn, sometimes talking about our lives, as we introduced ourselves to the other. Changmin initially wanted to join the dance club, but apparently he was ‘overqualified’ and Chanhee, the president, asked him to join his club, ‘on knifepoint’, he says, “he was literally pointing a pair of scissors at me when he asked me to join.”

As we sat in the dark, people would pass by, sometimes talking about me.

“Did you see the scars on him?” comes a voice, and Changmin saw me cowering in my seat, although we were covered by the statue and they couldn’t see that I was sitting right there. He nodded at me to be quiet, it would be over, anyway. “He must be sick—do you think someone did it to him?”

“Maybe he did it himself. Look at the look in his eyes—crazy son of a bitch.” I held my breath until those people had passed by.

Changmin sighed at me. Clinked our beer cans together. “Here’s to this semester—at least you’re being talked about.”

We both walked back to our dorms later that night, but with a group from the club. I’m finally included in a group, again… it feels good. But I know you went back in that blue racecar-looking… thing… that’s way too cool to be called a car, and I know you have an apartment somewhere close but also expensive. Tonight, like always, that day flashes by in my eyes, and like always, I wonder, why me? Why did you save me? Were you just bored? Righteous? I can’t think of more reasons.

I don’t know how to sign this letter so I’ll just write:

From,

Haknyeon

.

Dear Y/N,

I guess you’re looking out for me, even till now. You’re really a nice person. I can’t even stop telling you how nice of a person you are, if only I could get the words out… if only we could talk.

Changmin is still the only person that talks to me. It’s great that we’re in the same major together, and although you’re not, your name is the only thing on everybody’s lips. It’s quite a major feat.

“Y/N spent half her life in America.”

“Y/N’s brother, Younghoon, is an international model.”

“Y/n’s a bitch.”

This statement broke through the gossip that started before the lecture, and I almost turned around to see the source of it, because who’s saying that—but I fought the urge, I was going to lay low, anyway, plus I can’t act like I know you, because I don’t.

“What do you mean, she’s a bitch?” someone asks. Thank God, I’m not the only one with questions.

“Did you see the way she didn’t talk to anybody except for the club president, Chanhee? She’s only interested in connections.”

“Of course, she’s raised like that… rich people have no manners.”

“She told me to shut up this morning—like, real mean, glaring, ‘shut the fuck up’. And she stared down everybody at my table—that qualifies as bitchy, doesn’t it?”

“Jeez, what were you saying?”

“I was just saying—” the guy’s voice drops to a lower octave, but the lecture hall was dead silent that I could hear: “—was just saying Juhaknyeon’s weird, that everyone saw his arms last night, and it’s covered in scars, just discussing it, civilly.”

“And she told you to shut up?!” someone asks in shock.

“She threw a coke can at me. ‘Shut the fuck up’ real messed up, angry voice.”

Someone laughs. “Does Y/N L/N like that guy? Like, for real? Because why else would she—”

“Who knows? But they filmed him taking his jacket off, didn’t you know?” someone says. “Everyone in the uni knows he’s a freak—no matter what Y/N has to say about it.”

I guess I’m screwed. I guess we’re both screwed. But… is it okay that I feel a little happy about this? I always knew I would have a hard time fitting in, but the fact that you’re trying to defend me makes me happy. That I’m kind of in this with you—you, and Changmin.

I guess it kind of makes me a loser if I keep thinking of you as a friend. We haven’t even talked.

Anyway, thank you.

From,

Haknyeon

.

Dear Y/N,

I don’t get it. Why are you doing this to me?

The more I think about it, the more it looks like it’s just a long-winded joke. Your brother or someone set you up to this. It’s surprising that you’re here, but more surprising that you act like you know me.

We don’t know each other. I keep telling myself that.

Today is club day, and they’re going to a village somewhere in the rural parts, apparently there’s a waterfall there. Chanhee funded the trip, but needs more people to sign up. I almost didn't go, no one asked me specifically, and Changmin’s not going, either. I wanted to lay low.

I thought you were going, but soon Sohyun and Rachel cornered you and asked if you would. You looked annoyed. You always do, but…

“Ask Haknyeon,” you told Rachel. “If he goes I’ll go too.” And then you slammed your locker shut.

Of course that day only ended with Rachel, Yunjin, Sakura, all the other boys and girls with a crush on you, cornering me and asking me to go on the trip.

It’s funny, because they never even considered me as part of the club, and now they’re begging me, “Haknyeon it’ll be so fun. You’re one of us!” It’s… hilarious. If only I still had a heart to laugh…

But all this socialization in my life trained me into being unable to say no as an answer… so of course I’m going, and I told them that. Rachel excitedly walked off to tell you—I don’t know what your face looked like when she told you.

Why would you do this to me? Why would you mention me by name and force me into that? It’s strange, Y/N, do you still see me as that boy in the snow? That I’m weak, that you could destroy me?

You could destroy me, I know that. But why would you want to? I thought you were nice to me.

I guess I’m going… on that bus with the rest of the club on that long winded road. To a motel surrounded by farms. I still don’t understand why you mentioned me, except if it were some sick joke.

I guess I’ll see you on the bus.

From,

Juhaknyeon

.

Dear Y/n,

Fuck. Did we just fight? What is this?

I’m writing this on my notes app in the back of the bus while that guy Donghyuck’s beside me, eyes closed, trying to sleep. I don’t even feel like this is secure enough of a position to write to you, because what if the words mirror off the window and everyone can see?

But I’m hiding and writing.

Why am I such an idiot? There’s no one I want to meet more than myself, so I could beat him up. I’d skin him from the inside out if I could, that bastard.

So today started with the bus ride—I mean, literally started, I wasn’t even awake until the bus started moving—and I was completely resigned to my fate, this would be three whole days of torture, living with people, riding a bus through roads that could make the strongest stomachs carsick… hotel food… the list goes on.

You enter the bus with a frown and your bag, and sit in a single seat at the front. I gawked at you for a second, before I realized that other people could see me looking and draw conclusions.

So I sat in a four-seater, don’t know how I ended up there—with Donghyuck and Rachel and Sakura.

“Does y/n like you?” Donghyuck asked somewhere along the ride, just when we were starting to doze off.

I just shifted in my seat, not making eye contact. I think someone needs to teach me the art of eye contact again, because now people’s gazes scare me, especially kids my age. It’s like they’re searching for a way to bring me down, they could get up at the next move and just—I feel safer with my eyes closed or on the ground. “No,” I answered. Well, it had been more like, n-n-n-no.

“I mean it just doesn’t make sense. She doesn’t even smile to anyone, but with you—” Donghyuck sucked in a breath. The others with him just nodded along. “She even told Sohyun she’s not going on this trip if you don’t come, isn’t that weird?”

“Maybe she didn’t want Hak to be left out?” suggests Rachel. “Because of freak-rumors and such?”

“You must think she’s an angel or something,” says Sakura. “Y/N’s so nice to you, isn’t she? She made sure you got on this trip.”

Just as I feared: food from unrated restaurants in the middle of nowhere. The bus stops for relief, and we eat, if Changmin were here maybe I would be more comfortable but I’m just sitting with Donghyuck and the girls, we ordered bibimbap, which even the four of us couldn’t finish.

You sat away from everybody, in a solitary table eating nothing. You bought a coke bottle, though, and kept drinking. I stared at you for a bit, which made Donghyuck nudge Sakura. “They’re in love,” he told her. “It’s some secret relationship.”

Our secret relationship came to this.

I cornered you beside the bus stop where you were washing your hands; everybody was still eating. You glared at me when I came near, so I knew I wasn’t welcome, but I was kind of mad at you, too, so:

“Why are you doing this to me?” was my first question. I didn’t mean for it to come out like a demanding challenge.

“Doing ‘this’ to ‘you’?”

“Why did you tell them you’d only go if I came?” You looked even more annoyed than before, so I go on: “is this… a joke? Did someone put you up to this? Are you trying to hurt—”

“Idiot,” you sneered under your breath. “Fucking idi—I didn’t want to come, as you can see, I didn’t think you would! I just said that so we could both stay home, but who fucked it up, Haknyeon, who?” You kicked at the wall in front of you angrily, and I stepped back a little, trying to give an angry person space. You just rolled your eyes, and then walked past me, colliding first into my shoulder deliberately.

When we all get back on the bus, you’re in your single-seat, sunglasses on, with a frown on your face. Someone asked you “who shit in your coffee?” and you snarled through gritted teeth, “shut the fuck up.”

Now I’m here sitting beside Donghyuck. Did we fight? Do we even know each other well enough to fight?

I just don’t get it. I hate myself for fighting with you, I should have kept my mouth shut. I don’t know why I started it in the first place—it’s not like I’ll ever get real answers, anyway. I should have shut up, now I feel like I’ve lost your trust, and whatever you felt when you were protecting me, you wouldn’t do it again.

I really hate myself right now.

From,

Juhaknyeon

.

Dear Y/N,

You’re sleeping 4 feet away from me right now, which is, well, cool, but I’m gonna stay awake all night to make sure you’re safe. The latch to the door is broken for some reason, adding to my vigilance. Plus everyone in the club is horribly drunk, so I…

I’m gonna stay awake. Gives me more time to write this letter, anyway.

Just to recap because I feel like we might forget how we ended up here:

The bus ride was horrible. It’s more horrible that we’re gonna have to ride it all over again when we get back to the city later, it gave everyone motion sickness. No one’s prepared for the ride home.

But we saw the waterfalls! Well, the rest of us did, anyway. You stayed on the bus playing games on your phone. I snooped around and gawked a little–it’s one of those dashing games. I guess even that monotony is better than hanging out with the rest of us, huh.

Chanhee loves the waterfalls (read: took 19,686 pictures). Everyone did, actually. You can’t see anything from the bus, but inside there’s a stream and it’s really pretty. Everyone swam. Except me, I guess, you can probably guess why I didn’t.

And then we drove to the motel, where we were planning to get drunk for the whole night. I thought it’d make everything weird if I went, so I didn’t go. I just sat in the motel room, charging my phone. Thinking of writing you another letter, but I don’t even know what I’d say.

The guys went out to drink around 9. At 10, there’s a knock on the door—the latch is broken, so it just slides to the side.

Your head poked in. “Oh, you.”

I gawked at you wordlessly, pathetically actually. But you didn’t hate me so much. “Can I stay here for a bit? It’s scary in my room.”

I nodded, and you came in, immediately lying down on the mattress they laid down for us. “Aren’t you gonna get some shut-eye, too?” you asked me.

I just shook my head. We stayed there in silence for so long. I wanted to ask why you didn’t go to drink, but I couldn’t get it out, couldn’t get myself to speak to you. You let me do my thing, which was staring at my phone like it’s the most interesting thing in the world, when really all I wanted to do was stare at your face. Ask you questions. All about you, all about that day in the snow.

You spoke first, though. I never speak. “I’m sorry about earlier today.”

I wasn’t expecting an apology at all, so I’m surprised. “Huh?” finally, some sound from me.

“I was just… I didn’t eat anything, so I guess I was hangry. It’s fucked up. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

I shrugged. “Used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to be used to people treating you like that.”

You looked at me in a special, peculiar way. Not hating but also not enjoying my company. You saw me scratching the tag on my back, it’s hot and I’m covered in sweat. And I’m still wearing a jacket over my shirt. “Take it off,” you say, “the motel heating is fucking off its rocks, it’s like 30 degrees in here.”

I just shook my head and mumbled it’s not hot at all, but…

You crawled over to me and swiped the sweat off my forehead. “It’s just the two of us here, Haknyeon.”

I gripped at my sleeves. “No…”

You gave up easily, thank God. You sat back on the mattress. “Fine, I guess. I’m sleepy.”

“Do you remember me?” I ask out of the blue, and it should have been quiet, I didn’t even mean it for you to hear, I was just wondering it to myself, it’s become a habit of speaking my thoughts out loud because usually no one’s around to hear…

“Do you know me?” you asked in return, louder than me this time.

I looked away. “No.” Which was true, I didn’t know you other than that day and chance sightings, and I’m not delusional enough to force a connection.

“I’m sleeping,” you say. “I trust you, so I’ll just sleep here. Is that okay?”

I said yeah, and then you’re curled up with a pillow. I dug up a fan from the closet and plugged it in facing you so you’d be a little cool. I’m still keeping my jacket on, though. It just gets weird if anyone sees it, even you, who knows how I got them.

Thank you for trusting me.

From,

Haknyeon

[continued on back page]

Okay, I just… I’m having flashbacks again, as bad as it is. You’re still asleep. I’m writing this in the small flashlight, in case turning the big lights on would wake you up. There’s been a few club people coming back to sleep, but I won’t let them in my room—not unless it’s a girl that I can trust around you anyway, but neither Rachel nor Sohyun are back.

5 years ago was the worst year of my life. I guess it was always like that since I was a kid, people didn’t seem to take my side in fights, or I was always under the upperhand… but it didn’t get as bad as freshman year of high school.

On the day you talked to me, it was snowing.

Winter may be the cruelest month to do these things in. One time I stood wearing a mere short-sleeved school shirt in ankle-high snow, with the boys all standing around me—my puffer jacket was clogging the toilet in a stall on the second floor—and they were saying “it’s not that cold,” all the while wearing 4 layers, the pure irony. And the snow fell all around us.

On the day you talked to me, they weren’t around. I was bleeding from my head, I swear the blood was frozen and congealed with my eyelashes, everything was just cold and painful, and I was wearing one jacket. Hands in my pockets. They’d intimidated me into kneeling in the snow, and demanded that I kneeled there until they came back. It was almost past lunch, and they would either actually come back to torment me more or just go back to their classes, mindless of me.

I tried to report them, a few times. I tried to get my parents to help me. It was always the same thing—even the bullies themselves wouldn’t come to the office with me, it would be the students’ representative, which happened to be your brother, Younghoon–he’d apologize, and do nothing. He just kept saying “we’re all friends. We just need to respect each other.” to me, as if I was the one needing to respect people.

You walked up to me, that day in the snow. It was lunch time, and everyone was eating inside, I know students stared but they never got closer. But you did.

“Get up,” was what you said. Just like now, today, you’re impossible to read. I thought you were angry at me—I’ve seen you before, I know you’re Younghoon’s sister, I know nobody could help me, so…

“Get up, let’s go to the hospital.”

I didn’t move. If anything, I kneeled firmer than before, sinking into the snow, head facing the ground. I’m meant to be sorry, although I don’t know for what.

“Get up!” you yelled at me. “If you won’t get up, you’re gonna get sicker.”

You kneeled down with me, and I opened my mouth, I said, “don’t,” the sound got away from us with the wind and you didn't hear it.

You wiped the blood off my brows. “It’ll be okay.” It was staining your hands, and then it fell onto the snow, maroon against pure white. I was the one dirtying it.

That’s when I looked up at you, finally, although I wasn’t supposed to. “Kneel with your head bowed” had been the order. But when I looked…

You looked angry. “Get up,” you said again, this time with your arm hooking with mine to pull me up. And yet, I planted myself on the ground, afraid they would hurt us both if you got me.

“Juhaknyeon, please.” You knew my name. That was the most surprising part of it. “Get up, come on.”

Tears and blood congealed and froze around my temples, I don’t know what I’m doing. Crying icicle tears and still planting my knees on the ground. I can’t get up, I can’t.

You gave up eventually, and I didn’t watch it happen—I kept my eyes on the ground. Praying for something. But when you came all my prayers were answered, and after that… they never bothered me again.

I don’t know what you did, but I know you did something. It was you. You did more than Younghoon ever could, you saved me.

I’m always going to see you as an angel, that day in the snow. I’m sorry my blood stained you, it was dirty. I’m trying to never bleed that way again. Thank you for then. I think you might be the sole reason I’m alive. Now I have to protect you, which is why I’m here staying up. In the moonlight, the outline of your nose is really pretty.

That’s creepy to say. I just wanted to compliment you, sorry.

Note to self: just so I remember to tell you: Rachel eventually came back to the bedrooms and I let her sleep in the same room with you, warning her that the latch to the door is broken. Writing this in my own room with Kevin and Chanhee. It smells like soju here it’s unbearable. I hope you’re sleeping well, though, good night.

—Hak

.

Dear Y/N,

Are we friends now? It feels like I need a bigger audacity to assume that. An audacity I don’t have.

I guess if the things that happened to me didn’t happen, I would be a happy person. Someone who easily makes friends, someone kind… As much as I wish I were that person, I also don’t want someone else to go through what I did. I guess I just think that I can take the worst of it. Anyway, today it really feels like the worst of it is over. Changmin texted me ‘hey loser, how was the trip’ and I wrote back. I finally have a friend… or friends, since the whole club is so nice to me.

I don’t know why, but they’re a little iffy about you. I find it weird they think badly about you, but when I try to defend you it just makes things worse. I would tell people that you helped me out back in high school, but… I don’t know if you’d like to let people know we’ve known each other that long.

Man, you can sleep. You sat on the bus with your head resting on the window, and just went to sleep. It’s not even like you’re part of the hangover crowd, which everybody is, because just look at Chanhee. I’ve never seen eyes that tired.

You pulled me in to sit with you, though, and like everything you do, I don’t understand it. I just sit quietly. Writing to Changmin on the phone, which I have all sounds off and set on vibrate mode, so it doesn’t disturb you. Everyone’s quiet, and the bus curtains are drawn.

Some time along the ride, your sleeping figure started to lean on me. You were asleep, I’m sure, and that moment was when I let myself dream…

In the universe where I was never hurt, I have an audacity big enough to believe I should be the one kissing your lips. I ask you out. You fall asleep on me, just like this. You put your hand in mine. You feel my forehead by pressing yours against it when I get sick. When I lean into you, you won’t pull away—because I’m not a loser with scars. Because I’m not me. And that’s the only way you’d ever like me.

I thought no one saw us, that we were shrouded on the dark bus… but I guess everyone saw. When we’re on campus again, Donghyuck and the others teased me about it, some of them clasping my arm in a side-hug.

“Juhaknyeon, what the hell did you do that the ice princess is all over you?”

I don’t know, either. I just don’t know why you would keep helping me all this time.

From,

Hak

.

Dear Y/N,

Okay, I feel like I need to apologize for my earlier wishful behavior that you were mine, because today you came to the club meeting with your boyfriend.

Of course you have a boyfriend. I shouldn’t be surprised. I guess it’s a good pairing, too, because Youngjae is bright, happy, so funny, and his family is just as affluent as yours. I guess he’s the exact type you should ever go for.

But anyway Youngjae arrived at our club meeting today all flashy, and Chanhee was over the moon because apparently they know each other. Youngjae’s parents own a gallery and everything, and they talked for a bit. You looked so happy and bright, bragging about your boyfriend. “This is Eric! He and I got close when I was studying in L.A.”

And Eric mingled with the club, everyone likes him. Some people thought we were a budding love triangle, though, if only they knew how we were really connected. They’d just feel bad for me, hoping on someone just because they saved my life once.

“Ayy,” someone went, whistling over the club sounds, “what about Juhaknyeon… he’s gonna be heart broken his princess has someone like Eric.”

“Are you jealous, Hak?”

I just shook my head.

But later when we’re partnering up for the club projects, you jumped over to my desk and said you wanted me as a partner. I guess you really do think of me as a friend—which I’m happy about! If nothing else at least we’re friends.

So now we’re partners in this project. Chanhee gifted me a camera to use for the club—he has many, he says. I would be bragging about it to you, but Eric’s around, and… I didn’t want to complicate things for you.

Eric tried to talk to me, though, which I found weird. He asked me about my major, how life is, and all that. Do you talk to him about me? I guess it’s only natural… But at the end of it, he told me, “I think you’re a good guy, Hak.” I guess that means he trusts me around you?

I kind of feel bad for wishing you were mine, because I don’t know, it just feels wrong now, and I’m sorry. Anyway, in other news, Sohyun asked me out today. She wanted to know straight up if we ‘wanted to try’ to date, and I said yes, I mean… just for the experience? Plus she’s always nice. I want to thank you for always being kind to me, though, because without you I wouldn’t have the confidence to go out with her.

I’ll try to actually talk to you sometime.

From,

Your Hak

.

Dear Y/N,

Eric was kind of aggressive towards me when I saw him at the end of all my classes, in the parking lot. I don’t even know why, because I just found out you two aren’t dating, so… why was he so mean, out of nowhere?

I guess I want to ask you but I don’t want to make you mad, either.

You looked actually happy when I met you for the project today. The whole catch is that we don’t have to do anything, really, for the club, our photos probably won’t even be selected for Chanhee’s project. But I tell you this and you said:

“No way! You like taking photos, so we’re gonna take your work to the gallery!”

You weren’t frowning or cursing when you said that, and you seem… not mad. Maybe I am a good influence around you, haha.

I should ask about you and Youngjae, I thought, so I did, “so you must be really glad Eric flew all the way here from L.A.? What are you guys doing?”

The same expression on your face that resembled gray clouds. “We’re just hanging out.”

Okay…

“So how long have you been dating?”

You gasped. “Wait you thought—”

I’m embarrassed for embarrassing you. “You’re not—?!”

“Eric’s a friend.” You frowned, looking down at the ground. You didn’t meet my eyes for a long time. “You thought we were dating? And you were happy about it?”

I don’t understand why you’d be upset that I’m happy for you… I didn’t say that, though. I just shrugged. “Sorry, it’s just—you two looked really close, and when you introduced him—”

“And you were happy I’m taken?” you shrugged my hand off you, and I didn’t put it on your shoulder a second time. “Anyway. We’ll take pictures good enough to get into Chanhee’s collection, alright?”

“I think we should make you the subject,” I told you. “You’re the prettiest thing anyone can photograph…” I trailed off. I wished I hadn’t said that, and anyway you barely heard me.

But you did hear me, though. You barked out a horrible laugh. “I guess now that you know I’m single, you can flirt all you want, huh?”

I tried to defend myself: “I wasn’t flirting, I was just saying you’re—”

You didn’t listen to me, you were playing with your camera.

You were in a good mood, up until lunch time. I sat with the photography club, and you mindlessly followed me there with your tray. The usual gossip ensued, but I wasn’t paying attention to it, I was just looking over at you. If you were eating well.

Sakura mentions my name and I suddenly get sucked back to reality. “So, Haknyeon and Sohyun are a thing now, right?”

“Holding hands~” Donghyuck teases, “there’s a photo of you two in the campus couples’ instagram.”

“Congratulations, you two…”

I looked away, unable to take the attention, and across from me Sohyun smiled. “Thanks, you guys…”

“Haknyeon and Sohyun?” I’ve never heard your voice so small, it made me cock my head to the side to watch you speak. You’re standing with your back turned to me. “They’re dating?”

“Holding hands,” says Rachel.

“Ah, Y/N’s sad~ She likes Haknyeon,” someone says.

You glared at Sohyun. “You think I don’t see right through you?” you hissed at her, and then you stood up, with a tray of half-eaten food, and walked off. I should have tried to stop you, because you never eat well, but Sohyun tried to talk to me now, and I can’t just shrug her off, we’re sort of an item now. I tried to text you, though, and you didn't reply. I’m still waiting on the text about the project.

Which brings me to my next recount: I don’t know what’s with it, but, like, Eric was kind of aggressive towards me when I saw him at the parking lot today. He bumped into my shoulder, actually rather harshly, and went: “next time think about what you’re doing.” What does he mean? I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong, per se, at least to him…?

Anyway, I’m still waiting on your text. I’m thinking, I’ll really have you read all these letters, just so you can understand me better. I don’t like it when we fight.

Anyway, I’m sorry. If you’re in a bad mood you can come to me, though. :)

Your Haknyeon

.

Dear Y/N,

This is a joke. I might never forget this conversation, it’s riding my mind and I can’t—

Y/n, you’re lying, there’s no way that

This is killing me.

When you met me today you’re actually in a good mood. You don’t even always dress like this… colorful, like spring flowers. You look pretty.

Words just flow and flow out of you, and sometimes you’d ask me about Sohyun.

(“Did you go on a date with her?” “Yeah” *snort* “That’s great.”)

I asked you why you didn’t bring your camera, and you shrugged. “It was actually Eric’s. I don’t actually own a camera—I don’t like taking photos.”

“But the club—?”

“Listen,” you said, “I might have learned the basics on lighting and angles, but I have no interest in photography and my gallery on my phone is all empty—I don’t even have an instagram.”

“I don’t have insta either—Wait, you don’t like photos?” I asked. “Then why did you—come here? This far? Join the club?”

“You were in line,” you say. “In front of me. I saw you, so I… signed up right after you.”

“What?”

“I like you.”

I made a noise that’s somewhere between a gasp and a cry. I don’t ask ‘what’ again, even though we both know that’s what I’m thinking.

“Haknyeon,” you say, “no matter how anti-social everybody else in the world thinks I am, I still try to be your friend, don’t I? I’m the one making the first move everywhere with you—I ask you to sit next to me on the bus, I invite you to parties myself, I asked you to be my project partner.”

“Y-yeah,” I say slowly, camera dropping to hang on my neck heavily. Nervous, so I’m playing with my hands. “Um… why do you do that?”

“Because I like you,” you insist. I’m dumbfounded, but you look angry that I’m dumbfounded and don’t believe you.

“You like me?” I probe, “After you’ve seen me in the snow—after you saw me like that, all… hurt…”

“I've liked you since then,” you say. “Actually, even before that. Before we even met in the snow. I always knew who you were, and liked you.”

I just gawk wordlessly until it makes you roll your eyes.

“Well,” you say, sighing, “you have a girlfriend, so I’m confessing. I know nothing will come out of it.”

“You don’t know,” I said suddenly, before I could stop myself.

“Don’t know what?”

“My pain. You don’t know how bad it is, how painful it was, so… you can’t like me. Because you don’t know me.”

You scoffed. “Yeah. I guess. I don’t know anything, huh.”

But I was wrong, Y/N, which I just decided I am, after I’m in bed thinking about today. I was wrong. I mean, there’s no way you like me, maybe you’re confused—a 5-year-old confusion. But I was wrong to assume you had no pain in your life. The way you glared at me when I said it just says it all. I was wrong to say that… But I guess now I can't take what I said back.

From,

Hak

.

Dear Y/N,

I have a feeling I might need to talk to you instead of writing letters I’ll never send. Maybe this will be the last one.

I just needed to talk to you about Sohyun.

We’re not dating anymore. I don't know what you'll think, it’s not like you were betting on us failing, but… well, nothing could keep us together! Not when Sohyun only wanted me to one-up you, anyway—and, yes, I knew it all along. I just pretended to be an idiot for a bit. I thought…

Nevermind what I thought.

What were you thinking?

Sohyun and I met at the school cafe after dark. She was angry, and I swear something was off, and one of her acrylic nails was broken. She was fuming when she stormed towards me, it was almost scary. “I’m going to fucking kill Y/N L/n!”

I’m always a little guarded for you, so I ask what happened.

“She attacked me,” Sohyun insisted. “She yelled at me—oh, I am writing this on the college forum, let everybody know what a fucking freak that girl is—she gets everywhere because her family’s famous, she’s arrogant, you know—”

“What did you do?” I asked out of the blue, just because I wanted to know, but she changed her entire demeanor at me, like a bird with ruffled feathers. A fight.

“What?” she spoke with narrowed eyes (that was about the time I realized I fucked up), “What does it matter what I did? She came over to my table and yelled insults at me.”

“What did you do that made her mad?” I asked. It might have been the most engaged I’ve ever been in any conversation with Sohyun, and it pains me to admit it’s about you.

“I’m dating you, if someone attacks me this way, you’re supposed to protect me,” Sohyun says adamantly, wringing her wrists everywhere. I think she might be madder at me than at you. “What kind of boyfriend—do you know what I go through trying to support you, walking on eggshells about those ugly fucking scars all over you, everyone thinks I’m a saint, so you should also—”

“Okay,” I say.

“I’m just saying, I do it out of the goodness of my heart, Haknyeon. Not just being your friend, but also trying to be your girlfriend.”

“Well you don’t have to be either.”

She gasps. “I am not getting dumped by a—” She hurled insults at me, one after another, that I was barely even sorry for her anymore. At the end of it, I smiled. My first real smile in a while.

“Dump me, then. Whatever you feel fits. I’m going home.” It was the most damage I could do, with my character. Somebody else would have hurt her more. I slinged my bag over my shoulder, and walked out on her.

I think I might need to give up on the Photography Club. I made an enemy out of the vice president, after all. It’s funny, it genuinely brought me joy, but I don’t feel bad when I think about leaving.

Because you don’t like it there, either.

—Your Hak

You’re sitting on a bench outside of the dorms, even though you don’t live there. It wasn’t the first time. You know Haknyeon’s window has to be somewhere in the visible lighted up windows, and sometimes you walk by, just to see if it’s still lighted up, or if it’s off, he’s sleeping, or sitting in the dark. As creepy as that is. You’ve always been curious about him, ever since high school. After that day in the snow, you threatened his bullies. You had to move away to America after that, but you made Younghoon keep an eye on them, never hurt a hair on Haknyeon’s head ever again.

You liked him for so long, and you hoped, if you ever did meet again, you’d at least have the courage to say hi. But it really happened, and the first night you saw him again, you couldn’t gather the courage. Instead you talked to Chanhee, and everybody else, just anyone but him. You couldn’t gather the strength.

You only loved him in the only way you knew how: protecting him. Telling people off when they used him as a gossip tool. When Sohyun used him… you fought back. That’s how you ended up here, in front of his dorms, with a swollen eyelid.

It’s necessary to mention you’ve never been in a fight before.

“What are you doing here?”

That’s Haknyeon deep voice, which you recognized immediately. With a sigh, you turn around.

“It’s not so I can see you, trust me.”

Back to his withdrawn character, he balances himself on his heels, mumbling, “why fight?”

“I think you mean ‘why did you fight’?” He kept staring at the ground. “Your taste is girlfriends is horrible…” You tutted. But your eye was hurting. “Do you have an ice pack or something? My eye really hurts.” Which was half truth but half just wanting to spend time with him.

Haknyeon takes you to a convenience store in the corner of the building block, and basically nurses you, carefully pressing the ice pack to your eye.

“How could her nail just scratch you?”

“Ow,” you say, “be gentle.”

“By the way, you’re really bad at fighting.”

“I literally fought her for y—” you stop yourself. “I mean. I just… she’s annoying.”

“I never realized.”

“Yeah, your perfect little girlfriend, huh?” you scoffed.

Haknyeon smiled like he had a secret, as he hummed, pressing the pack to your eye. “It must really hurt…”

“I think you’re been in more pain than me.” It just slipped out of your mouth, so you backpedal. “I mean… fuck, what’s wrong with me?”

“So you do remember everything,” he concluded.

“I don’t forget anything about you, actually. Not since the day we met—but meeting you here was an accident, I thought I’d have to search through facebook or insta to get your contact back again.”

“Well, I don’t use instagram so you’re lucky we met here…” Haknyeon smiled, expression warm and the ice pack on your face lessening the swelling. “Do you really mean it, that you’ve liked me since high school?”

“Every day since I met you. It’s love at first sight.”

“You don’t look like the type to believe in it, funnily.” He looks up at you, grinning. He’s never looked at you this way before—his eyes had some wonder in them. Like the space between stars, dark under the streetlight shade. “I don’t have a girlfriend, if you were wondering.”

Doubtfully, you quirk an eyebrow at him. “For real?”

“I decided ice princesses are better than universal-nice girls.” Haknyeon grinned at you. “I’m not… I’m not saying I need an answer straight away, though. It’s fine if you’ve changed your mind—”

“Haknyeon,” you say, “I made up my mind 5 years ago, when I saw you in the snow.” You reach over and swipe at the hair on his forehead, just like you wiped the blood back then. “Is this okay?” you ask, inching closer towards him.

“It’s okay.” His eyes closed, as if he’s trying to feel the moment with every cell in his body, and you take the opportunity to kiss him, closed eyelids and soft lips.

When you pull away, you swear you’ve never seen Haknyeon so smiley. Which makes you gloat. “Let’s see Sohyun top that,” you hissed under your breath. Ha! You kissed your crush of 5 years.

And you would keep kissing him… and kissing him and kissing him. And he never pulls away from you, no matter how cold, annoying, or mean you get. Sometimes all three of it at once.

~~

“You’re dating Juhaknyeon,” Donghyuck gushes. “I mean, I knew you liked him, but what’s all that with Eric, and Sohyun—”

“We’ve known each other for a long time,” you answered, “ever since freshman year of high school.” And you don’t hold his hand but you look over at him, into his sparkling eyes.

“Wow,” says Donghyuck. “First love?”

“Wow,” says Chanhee, with more emphasis. “Our first photography club couple!”

Haknyeon’s slowly starting to wear short sleeves, now. Soon it’ll be spring, and you can see the cherry blossoms, in the warm weather… and he’ll take off his jacket for once. Scars do heal and fade, and after you’ve kissed his, he swears, they’re fading out more quickly than ever. Not that you needed them to fade: you loved him for the scars, not despite, and you like him, just like this.

For Chanhee’s project, Haknyeon submits just one entry: you, in the snow, wearing almost the same outfit when he met you. This time, the snow remains white, pure. He’s not bleeding anymore.

[gumi-gang]

SECRET ADMIRER KENMA x gn!reader

wc: 969

someone’s been leaving notes on your desk for a while now. it began a few weeks ago, two days after you cut your hair way shorter than you normally would. ‘your new hair suits you,’ the note read. at first you thought someone had just forgot to sign the note, and that it was from one of your friends that you hadn’t had the chance to see since you’ve been so busy studying for the upcoming exam season. 

that was until you received a second note two days later. this time accompanied by a cartoon of strawberry milk from the vending machine, which you normally get yourself during lunch. the note reads, ‘don’t work yourself too hard. make sure to take care of yourself.’ the thoughtful words don’t fail in making your blush. it’s nice to be reminded that people care about your well being. however, it’s once again not signed, and as you sip on your drink at your desk you go through a mental list of your friends, wondering which one it could be. 

over the weeks you’ve become a detective of sorts. the notes keep coming, now daily instead of sporadically throughout the week. sometimes accompanied by a cartoon of strawberry milk, or the candy you like, but mostly alone. you collect all the notes you’ve received and kept them in a box in your desk, every once and a while shuffling through it. you tell yourself that it’s to analyze the handwriting and to check if there are any clues that give away the identity of the sender. however, from the deep blush and huge smile on your face, anyone looking closely can tell that you’ve begun to indulge in the flattery your admirer provides you. 

you also begin to use your role as class representative to collect information on your fellow classmates. cross analyzing handwriting and writing style between class assignments and notes, you fail to make any consistent matches. eventually, you decide to stake out your admirer by watching your seat from the hallway. 

“what are you doing?” a voice asks you from behind, as you stake out your seat. you jump with fright, but quickly your adrenaline subsides as you look over to see your best friend kenma from two classes down standing next to you. he’d never call you his best friend, but if you add up all the times he’s allowed you to tag along with him and kuroo after school, the times you’ve went over to his house to watch him play video games as you read in the corner of his room, and the times that you’ve spent hanging out on the weekends, you’ve got enough time to foster a friendship strong enough that almost nothing could break. 

“jeez, you scared me,” you tell him. “i’m trying to stake out my seat to see if i get another note.” kenma doesn’t even bat an eyelash at your antics. the fact that you have binoculars doesn’t even faze him. you told him and kuroo about the notes after having received the first one. while you’ve listed theories on who it might be or why they chose to remain anonymous, kenma hasn’t proven to be much help in trying to discover the secret identity of your admirer. kuroo pretends to help by encouraging you to keep trying to find hidden messages in the notes, but you know that he’s just trying to catch you making a fool out of yourself. 

“everyone can see you y/n,” kenma informs you. “no one is gonna leave a note if they know you’re trying to catch them.” you frown at his words, but also put away your binoculars in defeat. 

“don’t look so sad,” he rests his arm on your shoulder. “maybe they’ll confess soon and then you won’t have to act like a spy in between class periods.” you let out a deep breath and nod. kenma’s been trying to get you to stop trying to figure out your admirer’s identity for quite some time, because, as he constantly reminds you, they probably aren’t ready to admit their feelings for you to your face yet, and you should give them some time. “look i got you a strawberry milk from the vending machine,” he opens your backpack and slips it into one of the pockets. “volleyball practice got pushed back a little later today so kuroo and i can’t walk home with you today, but i’ll see you later. let me know if you need anything, okay?” he sends you a soft smile and a wave as he walks back to his class. 

it isn’t until that night, when you’re doing your homework, that you notice a piece of paper sticking out from your math textbook. from the handwriting you recognize that it’s another note from your secret admirer. it reads: ‘i love the happiness in your eyes. i hope one day you look at me with those same eyes and behind them will be love.’ you blush and stare at the note, reading and rereading its words. you wonder how the sender could have managed to place the note in your textbook when you’ve been carrying it all day, but you can’t think about it too much. your brain it unable to process any logic when your heart is filling your body with joy. 

once you’ve regained some sort of control on your emotions you call kenma to tell him about the note. he picks up immediately. before he can get any words out to greet you, you tell him about the note and listens to you gush over how sweet your secret admirer is. he listens to you with his heart full. maybe one day he’ll get the courage to tell you how much he loves you to your face. 

gumi-gang @ 2022

all contents and its rights belong to me. do not modify or repost. 

[always-andromeda]

ii. sound of a love song | Joby Taylor x fem!Reader

Joby Taylor x fem!Reader

Word Count | 3,838

Summary | In the safety and comfort of you apartment, Joby strips down in a way that he couldn’t have imagined.

Author’s Note | sO, I've finished outlining this monster of a fic and it’s coming out to about fifteen chapters??? I’m hoping to put out chapters at a little bit of a faster rate because I am really vibing and grooving with this story. hope y’all enjoy it as much I’m enjoying writing it, lol.

Warnings | a pinch of angst, please let me know if I need to add anything else!

When you unlocked your front door, he didn’t know what he was expecting. He certainly wasn’t expecting a big black Labrador to come bounding to your feet, obviously excited to see you. Around the labs neck was a pastel pink collar that sparkled under the door light you'd flicked on. The metal tag jangled as the dog danced around, nails sliding on the tile.

“Ohhh, Angel, come here!” You cooed. The dogs tongue lolled at the attention you were giving, before her eyes fell on him behind you in the doorway. Her ears flopped forward as she tilted her head slightly. Joby didn’t have much experience with animals. He had some rats when he was a teenager but they’d long since died. Dogs were totally out of his realm. They got hair and drool everywhere and that could ruin his leather. But Angel was far too excited to see someone new. She pushed past you and hopped up onto Joby, the exuberant force almost knocking him back. Chuckling nervously, he tried not to let your dog's paws touch his leather jacket and failed as she eagerly sniffed and licked at him.

“Not much of a dog person, are you?” You said over your shoulder, already going further into the darkness of your apartment.

“Oh, I love dogs. Totally.” With your back turned, he pushed the dog's paws off but that only solidified her commitment to playing with your new guest. Frantically mouthing no, no, no,

He heard you sigh and you shook your head, “You really are such a terrible liar.”

Shit. He stopped, resigning to leaning nonchalantly against the wall leading into your kitchen. How could you tell? Had he always been this hopelessly transparent or were you simply really good at reading him? It was probably the former. Any apprehension he had at his misstep faded as soon as he saw you smile wide. He couldn’t remember having seen you smile like that at the bar. It was so bright with something close to a laugh attached at the end. No, before, you had been moody and angelic. You had been performing. Now you were real.

“If you keep lying to me like that, I might have to do something about it.” You threatened before turning your gaze down to your dog, “Angel, down. We don’t want to scare him away now.” You voice was sweet but stern. And part of him wanted you to talk to him like that. Really? You want to be talked to like you’re her dog? You’re a fucking joke.

The dog jumped down from him, letting out a soft whine before settling on the floor with a tired huff.

“You’ll have to do something about it? What would you do to me exactly?” He cocked his head and raised his eyebrows suggestively. He was drunk as shit and wobbly on his feet but damn if he didn’t try to turn on a little bit of charm. It was only because he was a massive idiot that he was here, but he was still grateful. He could at least return the favor by being an entertaining guest.

You watched him pose sensually, hand rested on his hip and knees swaying like trees in the wind. It was ridiculously endearing how bad he was trying, “I’ll wash your lying mouth out with soap.”

He scoffed, “What are you, my mommy?” The way his tongue poked out slightly between his teeth like you were his next meal made your stomach lurch.

Even with the genuine desire rising inside, you settled on a shy, “You wish.” You’d heard from others in the industry that Joby Taylor could be a…handful…to say in the least. You’d also heard about his whole formula for taking people to bed. He would poke and prod until the tension was so unbearable that whoever was with him just had to go home with him. He liked getting under people’s skin and daring them to pluck him out, knowing full well that as unsavory as his type was, they would ultimately give into the sin.

You had set your keys and purse down on your kitchen counter and went to brew yourself a mug of tea. On cold nights like this one, you loved a good mug of green tea with lemon and honey to soothe your vocal chords after a long day. Without really thinking about it, you pulled out a mug for Joby to make him some as well. Leaving the water to boil, you went back to your bedroom to change into pajamas.

Despite the heater in your apartment finally working, you were still freezing in that dress and couldn’t wait for the comfort of some longer sleeves and sweatpants. You lazily wiped your heavy makeup away with a wipe, not quite getting all the mascara but not really caring. You couldn’t help but think of him. Just sitting in your living room. He’d laid on your couch as you passed by to go to your room. Letting his head hang back on the armrest, he groaned. As wasted as he was, he was handsome, sprawled out on your couch like that with his arms thrown behind his head, sprawled out like he was still making himself available for the taking.

It had been a long time since you’d brought a man back to your apartment. You knew he was just there to sleep off his rough night, but it made you very aware of yourself. You weren’t used to being seen this way by most people. All you’d needed for a while was that floaty, almost uncaring attitude that convinced the men around you that you were an enigma. Those interactions never amounted to anything like this.

You figured the only way you could fight off your nerves was to match his smug demeanor. He had been teasing you. You couldn’t believe there was anything special about it, knowing he’d probably turned it on for dozens of people before you. You’d play the game but he certainly wasn’t winning it.

As you closed your bedroom door, you forced the thought from your mind. He wasn’t really into you at all, you decided, just drunk. Getting back to your kitchen, you poured the now boiling water from your kettle into the mugs and stirred in the lemon juice and honey. You grabbed both mugs and started towards your living room couch. As you came around to where he was now sat, you saw Angel was laying her head on Joby’s leg. Compressed against the bottom of the couch and still working in some curious sniffs to his jeans, she was fixed intently on him. His eyes were clenched shut so he didn’t notice the little black hairs, already starting to shed on his jeans.

Standing in front of him, you cleared your throat. When Joby opened an eye and saw you holding out the mug, he was once again dumbstruck that you’d even bothered to care. Carefully he took the mug and its heat spread to his palms. The drink brought a warmth that permeated his being better than his usual scotch or bourbon. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a good old drink of water, actually, let alone something this calming.

Your body was exhausted, no doubt, but your head desired some sort of stimulation.  You wanted to keep talking to him, to continue the playful tone you two had established. It wasn’t often that you got to develop a good friendship like this.

“So, what brought you to Magnolia tonight?” You tried. The whole week before you’d been performing at that bar and you hadn’t seen him once. He must have just gotten to town.

“Heard that a pretty girl was singing tonight so I thought I’d stop by to…appreciate the scenery.” He joked and smirked through another sip of tea.

After your soft laughter had sunk in, he found couldn’t keep himself together in front of you.  He took a sharp breath and set his mug down before answering seriously, “Because I’m fucked. I’m so fucked, y/n.”

“Well, yeah, getting kicked out of a band sucks but you’ll bounce back. If you could just rebuild some bridges I’m sure you cou-”

He interrupted you, “It’s not just about the band. It’s shitty but it’s the least of my problems right now.”

“Then what is the problem?” The question cut through him like none of the advances before had.

He looked at you this time. The cogs turned in his head, trying to figure out if you would think any less of him if he told you everything. He could trust you, right? You didn’t seem the type that would tell him to just man up and get over it. You’d looked out for him so far. But was that enough to open the floodgates? Was that how starved he was for some sort of real attention? The sympathy spreading across your face was encouraging him to spill his guts. You were so nice to him, so understanding. He didn’t even know where to start.

“I lost custody of my daughter.”

Your mind went racing. You figured he had to have gotten someone pregnant at some point with how he got around. But you didn’t think he’d be the type to have a child that he could care enough for to be so broken up about losing them. You put your hand over his, rubbing at his knuckles with your thumb. Not wanting to say anything and risk losing the moment.

He continued, “Her name was Claire. I got her pregnant when we were young. Her parents wanted us to get married so we did. When I started Snake Trouble we were playing shows around the state, trying to make it big. Claire had her while I was away. She wouldn’t let me see her anyways. So I stopped coming around as much.” His eyes were misty, remembering Claire. He’d loved her once, he was sure of that. They’d gone to parties together and she’d always be at the front when he was playing shows at run down clubs. She could be rowdy and loud and it was all perfect for him.

But when she got pregnant…she changed. She dulled. Became more contemplative. Always watching him with those piercing eyes and judging every selfish decision he made. It got fucking irritating having her disapproving looks aimed at him. He couldn’t have asked for a better escape once his bandmates started talking about going to LA.

“What’s your daughter’s name?” You asked softly.

He could feel the moisture beginning to well up in his eyes as he answered, “Ellen.” He tried to laugh off the tears that were already falling. It was all so stupid. He was making such a fool out of himself. You fucking pussy. You’re fucking crying on her couch. Great. If she didn’t think you were a baby before, she sure does now.

But you just pulled him closer to you and let him get out every emotion that he’d held back. You had your arm anchored around his shoulders. His pounding forehead pressed against your soft cheek. The tears started to fall on your shirt and you stayed still.

“Ellen is a pretty name.” You said. “She must be a pretty good kid.”

“Yeah. She’s the greatest.” He sniffed and wiped his bottom lashline with his knuckles before his face could get all puffy. Then his eyes met yours, filled with warmth. It struck him that you didn’t pity him. Your hand had made its way to his hair, delicate fingers running through it. The action sent shivers down his spine. You were so beautiful and so good to him. He didn’t deserve it. But he wanted to know you. In every way possible.

Before he knew it he was leaning in, satiating the hunger he’d felt ever since he’d seen you on that stage. Eyelids fluttering shut and lips latching onto you, there was no going back. He sucked and nipped on a spot high on the side of your neck where he knew it would leave a very visible mark. Tomorrow morning you’d be right beside him, all marked up and nestled against his chest. At least he’d have something to show for the night.

The broken sounds you let out were almost involuntary. You let your head fall back when his deft fingers traveled underneath your shirt, squeezing into your soft sides and wandering their way up further and further. Even drunk, his touch was skilled, as if he’d already determined how to unravel you as quickly as possible. And you would’ve let him continue if a single thought hadn’t run through your head: William.

“Joby,” you gasped his name. He wanted you to keep saying his name over and over. And when you did, it only made him hum with appreciation into your skin. Until he heard another word.

“Joby, stop.” You pushed him away and suddenly you were moving back, keeping him at an arm's length.

“Joby, I have a boyfriend. That guy who was on guitar tonight…he’s my boyfriend. His name is William. He’s a great guy, I really think you should meet him. He knows some people who could help you get back into a studio.” Your mouth was running a mile a minute, hoping your words would snuff out the remaining sparks from what had just happened between you two.

Suddenly yanked from the fantasy he’d already resigned to drowning in, Joby shook his head and squinted. You couldn’t have possibly just said what he thought he heard. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

You held your hands up to placate him. “Listen, you don’t want to do this. You’re drunk and you’re sad and that’s not a good combination for a hook up. I know you didn’t mean it so we can just forget about it. And tomorrow I can set up something with William and you two can-”

His attitude flipped abruptly. “A fucking hook up? Y-Y-You thought we were gonna hook up?” With his brows furrowing and expression turning angry, his entire body tensed.

To say that Joby Taylor couldn’t handle rejection was an understatement. His hands started to shake. That fucking prick at the bar really had been your boyfriend. He had poured his heart out and you were going to sit there and reject him? You had the audacity to suggest he go running to your boyfriend for help fixing his career? After you had taken him to your home and held his hand and looked at him with those glossy eyes and moaned his name? The way you’d moaned his name so easily and out of breath… You fucking idiot. Why the fuck would you do that? Why the fuck would she even want you?

“You were kissing me. What else would that have led to?” You raised an eyebrow at him. Your face was heating up, the anger beginning to bubble and spit but you made an effort to keep your voice calm. You didn’t need a noise complaint on your hands.

“You’re fucking delusional if you think I’m gonna take any help from that asshole you call a boyfriend. Who said I even needed either of you anyways? I-I-I-I’m Joby…fucking…Taylor!” He was close to yelling now and his glare was dark. Your dog let out a few aggressive barks, hearing how dramatically the atmosphere had changed. She bared her teeth and gave a low growl, warning him to not even try coming closer to you. You placed a gentle hand on the back of her head and petted her until she calmed down.

With your eyes fixed on a corner of the room, just past his head and your voice coming out quavering you said, “Well, Joby fucking Taylor, get the fuck out of my house.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s fucking cold outside. I’d have no where else to go, you can’t fucking do that to me.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you made an ass out of yourself. Get the fuck out of here, Joby, or I swear to God, I will call someone and they’ll make you get the fuck out.”

Wordlessly, he raised himself from the couch. His boots stomped on the kitchen tiles as he stormed to the front door. Then he was gone, slamming the door as he left.

The temperature had only gotten worse in the time he’d spent in your apartment. Snow was falling and the wind blew wildly. With no car, a dead phone, and no real idea where he was, he was going to freeze to death outside of your apartment. You were going to wake up tomorrow and find the corpse of Joby fucking Taylor on your doorstep and it was all his fault.

Why did you do that, you dipshit? She brought your ass into her home. She made you tea. She was gonna make that stupid boyfriend help you. But she wouldn’t fuck you so you had to throw a fit. This is why everyone leaves. You’re a fucking joke.

It was the boyfriend that had messed with his thoughts so much. You said he could help him? After all these years of working his ass off, there you were, a desert mirage handing him his dream on a platter. He rubbed at his face, attempting to put together the pieces of his night and scanning them for an image of the guy playing with you. He had mostly been paying attention to you and your swinging hips. He vaguely remembered thick, dorky glasses. Long blonde hair pulled back into a slick ponytail. A black turtleneck and unwrinkled slacks. A guy who looked just as put together and perfect as you. Of course you’d want to stay loyal to a guy like that. Why would you sacrifice something that good for a one night stand with a washed up loser like him?

The chill was making a home in him. And as of right now, Joby Taylor didn’t want to die. He was about to make even more of a fool out of himself. He turned and knocked at your door.

“Y/n…I’m sorry…please let me back in. It’s fucking cold out here.”

His voice was muffled by the door and the howling wind but you still heard him. You stood on the other side of the door, already considering letting him back in. You were just…upset. The way he blew up so quickly scared you. That was another thing you’d heard others whisper about. He had an anger issue and relied a lot on gaslighting and projecting his own issues to get what he wanted. It was childish behavior that made you want to scream at him. But you didn’t want him to freeze out there.

For those few minutes that you were just talking, it was good. You could see him being your friend. You wanted him to do well. You still remembered the first time you ever saw him perform. Back before he was fixated on being “Joby fucking Taylor.” He was just a guy at the microphone trying to put on a show. And it meant everything to you. Was that enough, though?

You turned the doorknob. His head hung low in front of you. He ran a hand through his hair before looking up, shame painted over his features. His nose was bright red from the cold and snowflakes clung to his dark lashes.

“I’m sorry. I fucked up.” He muttered with a defeated sigh.

“Yeah, you really did.” Your grip stayed firm on the edge of the door, your body being the only barrier between himself and the salvation of your apartment.

“I just…I’m not used to all of this. I’m sorry.” He repeated it. He couldn’t handle how hard it was to say those words. He wanted to feel humiliated for the way he yielded but he knew he owed you every apology he could muster.

He hadn’t missed the fear that fell upon you when he’d yelled. Couldn’t ignore how you’d flinched when he waved his arms. How your dog had immediately come to your rescue. How your hands shook while stroking her fur. Fuck, he never wanted to do that to you again if you ever let him back in. And with the way the night was biting at every bit of his now numb skin, he was willing to do anything. Thankfully, you stepped behind the door and he shuffled in. Angel stayed by your side, not thrilled to see him anymore.

“I think we’ve both had quite the night. I’ll get you some blankets. And then I’m going to bed.” You wouldn’t look at him now. He’d be lying to say it didn’t break his heart just a little.

He couldn’t stop replaying that moment as he laid on your couch once again. You’d shoved three plaid blankets into his arms before retreating to your room. He wasn’t sure if you’d meant to but you’d locked Angel out of your room. She still had that weary expression like she was just waiting for him to fly off the handle again.

He called her name softly. To his surprise, she drifted back to him. He didn’t know how to apologize to a dog. The best he could offer was a good scratch behind her ears. Watching her face screw up in satisfaction, he was pleased that she seemed to hold no grudge against him.

In your room, you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. Why had you gotten yourself into this mess? You knew well enough to lower your expectations, especially when it came to men in your industry. You couldn’t idealize anyone, even if you had listened to them for years and practically worshiped the ground they walked on. Everyone was fucked up in some way. But Joby was exceptionally fucked up. To let him back in was asking for trouble. You reached down, looking for the comfort of your best friend, expression twisting to concern when you couldn’t find the black Labrador lying beside you.

You had been so distracted that you’d forgotten her. So you rose and opened your door once more. Creeping down the short hallway, you figured Joby had probably passed out already.

But instead you found him barely awake, flat on his back, and head propped up with a throw pillow. From the darkness of the hall, you saw Angel tucked between his long legs, head resting on his stomach. A blanket was thrown over her relaxed figure. He was scratching behind her ears and whispering to her.

“It’s not gonna happen again. I promise.” He muttered the last part over and over, deliriously exhausted.

You pursed your lips. Dogs have a good sense of people, right? They could sense certain vibrations from people. If Angel could forgive him, maybe he wasn’t as much trouble as you thought he was.

[nightingaleflow]

I was (unofficially) tagged by @bbgirlsteve to list nine of my favorite movies.

Gotta tell you, narrowing this list down was hard. I was a Film major back in the day, so I have a ton of movies that I love dearly.

Tumblr arranged them in alphabetical order, so below is the actual order, along with a little blurb about each!

(1) Requiem for a Dream (2000) This is my all-time favorite movie, and one of the few I view as being perfect. It's about four people going down the downward spiral of addiction and experiencing all of the consequences that come with it. It was the first movie I watched on my own when I was trying to be a Serious Film Student, and I was blown away by it. In particular, the editing style is remarkable. It uses over 2000 cuts, whereas your average film of the same length uses about 600 - 700. It's done in such a way to mimic a drug user's experience, going from rapid, frantic movements to slow calms. I must stress though, if you want to watch this movie, PLEASE exercise caution. The whole reason I found it was because it was on several Most Disturbing Films Ever lists, and it earns its place there. It's like a very long, drawn out sucker punch - painful, dark, and potentially will leave you laid out for a day.

(2) Legally Blonde (2001) On the complete opposite end of the spectrum, Legally Blonde is my second favorite. I'm sure most of you know it, but in case you don't: A "dumb blonde" goes to Harvard Law School to win back the boyfriend who dumped her. I love it because it works hard to subvert the dumb blonde stereotype - Elle is smart, hard-working, and above all has a good heart. This movie just has an overall positive message, plus it has a ton of female positivity, which the world needs way more of. It's my go-to sick day movie because it never fails to make me feel better.

(3) Coraline (2009) Ah, Coraline. A cautionary tale about a little girl who discovers a gateway to a perfect parallel world in her new house (except it's not so perfect). This one I love because it manages to perfectly marry the magic and pains of childhood with extreme darkness. Coraline is just a kid who longs for adventure and a family that pays attention to her, which hit home for me in a lot of ways. And then they come in with "oh by the way you have to have buttons sewn into your eyes." God, that moment still makes me shudder. Also, fun fact: Coraline held the world record for the longest stop motion animation film (100 minutes) for seven years until it was overthrown by Kubo and the Two Strings (101 minutes).

(4) Colossal (2016) Colossal is probably one a lot of you have overlooked. It's a got a very strange premise - a drunk, down on her luck woman is somehow linked to and controlling a kaiju that randomly appeared in South Korea? What? But this movie is so, SO good. After not really paying much attention to movies for a few years, Colossal was the one that made me take notice again. It's a masterclass in acting from both Anne Hathaway and Jason Sudeikis. Its premise, while strange, lends it a unique charm I have yet to find in another movie, even other kaiju or body swap type stories. And its another positive message movie - no matter how hard life or other people knock you down, you can get back up and keep fighting. I can't recommend it strongly enough.

(5) Cat People (1942) This movie's premise is also pretty bonkers: A woman won't have sex with her husband because she thinks that she will turn into a giant cat and eat him if she does. However, do you like modern horror movies? If you do, you have Cat People to thank for them. Obviously, horror movies had come out before Cat People. It was made by RKO as a response to Universal's success with Dracula and Frankenstein, after all. However, Cat People set up a lot of things that would inspire later horror movies. In particular, its use of the idea that "What you don't see is scarier than what you do" and emphasis on subtlety rather than in your face scares is something you see coming from here. It's also credited as the source of the very first jump scare.

(6) Coco (2017) I love movies about music and/or that have good soundtracks. Coco falls into both categories, since it's about a little boy who wants to be a musician and ends up seeking out his musical ancestor in the Land of the Dead after his family rejects his musical aspirations. It is visually gorgeous - I legitimately think this is the prettiest movie Pixar has ever made, which is saying a lot. (The moment where Manny crosses the marigold bridge into the Land of the Dead comes to mind) I also love the way that the Mexican culture and music is seamlessly woven into the story. It truly transports me to a new world.

(7) The Ring (2002) Everyone knows the story even if they haven't seen this movie: It's about a video tape that kills you seven days after you watch it. And this is the single scariest movie I've ever seen. I first watched it when I was about 13. I watched it on VHS alone in the basement of my childhood house late at night (which definitely upped the scare factor). I actually thought the movie was over after they discover Samara's body in the well and stopped the movie. But then I decided I wanted to watch the credits because I wanted to see who was in the cast. And boy did I get a surprise. That single moment redefined horror for me. To this day, there hasn't been another movie that has scared me that badly.

(8) Tucker & Dale vs Evil (2010) Conversely, there hasn't been a horror comedy that hit all the right notes quite like Tucker and Dale. It's a spoof on your typical summer slasher movies like Friday the 13th or Wrong Turn, but done right. It takes every single slasher horror trope you can think of and turns it on its head. This movie made me laugh harder than almost any other movie. It's also made from a place of love, honoring the tropes and movies that came before it, and working with them to make an amazing movie.

(9) Zack and Miri Make a Porno (2008) Yes, this is a romantic comedy about two friends making a porno together. And it's good. It's hard to make me like romantic comedies. They have to have something that really sets them apart. Zack and Miri does this by leaning hard (hehe) into its premise. It's not ashamed, it gleefully shows off its cast in every sense of the word, and it still manages to create one of the most intimate sex scenes I've ever seen. (Yes, in a film about porn) Plus it's funny as hell. Just do yourselves a favor and don't watch it with your mom like I did.

Some honorable mentions:

The Omen (1976) Happy Death Day Ratatouille Us Pan's Labyrinth Candyman Stranger Than Fiction Wolf Children Cabin in the Woods Little Miss Sunshine A Quiet Place

~

Tagging (no pressure or obligation <3): @justmyownreality @iantoya @therantingfangirl @obscurism @starnightcat @moonlight-alphafemale @mal-the-konohoe

And if you weren't tagged but want to participate, please feel free. I love talking movies!

[gyusbambi]

humph; han seojun (pt 2)

 click here for humph masterlist!

part 1, part 3

story: frenemies to enemies to lovers, high school au

synopsis: seojun and you have known each other since kindergarten. you’re neighbors and even attended the same singing and piano classes. despite knowing each other for such a long time, you don’t enjoy spending time with seojun. even though you are aware of his unfairness, you keep spending time with him. when will you finally leave your childhood frenemy?

note: juyeong is reader’s brother and is not related to the lims, jugyeong doesn’t exist in this story. humph! is a story inspired by pentagon's "humph! / 접근금지". originally, this is a seungyeon fanfiction, which i posted on my wattpad. words: 4k

after the encounter, you try your best to avoid han seojun. everytime you spot him walking in the hallways, your feet start moving faster. every so often you won’t allow yourself to put all of your books into your locker and end up carrying the heavy things during the whole day. why does his locker have to be next to yours anyway?

seojun might be academically not the best, but he sure isn’t dumb.

clearly, he notices how you turn around and walk into a complete different classroom whenever he makes an appearance in the same hallway. he also notices how you always walk around with piles of books, never taking the chance to place them into your locker, since his own happens to be next to yours.

one day he spots lee suho helping you with carrying your books. smiling, you thank your friend and hand him over some of them. while heading towards the classroom together, you talk about the upcoming school trip. unfortunately, you’re not quite able to see what’s in front of you since the pile of books cover your sight slightly. yet, as seojun walks past suho, his shoulder hits suho’s which makes the books fall out of his hands with a loud thud. 

quickly, you help suho collect the books on the floor and don’t fail to notice him muttering,

“what’s his problem?” 

_

it’s an entertaining thursday evening as you spend time in the karaoke bar with your classmates. kang soojin, who happens to be suho’s childhood friend, asked you and suho to tag along with them. first, lee suho declined the kind offer but you luckily managed to convince him. 

the noraebang is filled with laughter when taehoon, sua’s boyfriend, sings his lungs out to his favorite song. after your eyes wander from the couple too soojin and then too suho, a smile forms on your face. taehoon’s arm is around suho’s shoulder as they both sing a ballad. you’re happy that suho opens up to others more and you enjoy being able to spend time with these four, feeling like you’re making new friends.

however, it feels a little strange that seojun and chorong aren’t around. you remember how you would go to the karaoke bar every saturday, sometimes it was only seojun and you. secretly, you adored listening to his voice.

suddenly, the notification sound of your phone wakes you up from your short trance. 

juyeong: why is seojun hyung’s bike in front of our house?

it’s a message from your younger brother. why hasn’t seojun picked up his bike yet?

while the others continue singing, you excuse yourself and walk outside in order to call your younger brother. patiently, you walk back and forth, waiting for him to answer the call. you sigh when he doesn’t pick up and are about to dial his number again.

before you can do so, you jump and let out a yelp at a familiar voice,

“y/n?”

it’s han seojun.

frightened you turn around, palm pressed to your heart.

“you scared me!” closing your eyes, you let out a relieved breath.

“you’re here too?” seojun ignores your shocked reaction.

“yes.”

“with whom?”

taken aback, you stay silent for a short moment, not knowing how to respond. clearly, you’re aware that seojun, for some reason, isn’t on good terms with suho. therefore, you wouldn’t want him to start a conflict with the innocent boy right here, at the karaoke bar.

“uh, i’m here with soojin a-”

abruptly you trail off when you spot lee suho himself at the entrance, searching for you while his glance shifts through the place. luckily, seojun’s back is facing the entrance. the boy in front of you waits for you to continue but is caught off guard when you pull him around the corner, before suho can find you.

“what are you doing?” seojun questions with lines forming between his brows.

nervously, you try to come up with an excuse while avoiding his gaze, checking behind his back if suho saw you, 

“your motorcycle-”

“look who we have over here! seojunnie!”

at the sound of lee sungyong and his gang you stop talking and observe an annoyed expression appear on seojun’s face.

when you turn around to face them, they let out surprised laughs,

“y/n, long time no see!”

“why do you have to here.” seojun groan.

soon, you sense that something bad could happen any moment which makes you dart your glance around the area nervously, looking for a possible way out. timidly, you draw your mouth into a straight line before your fingers firmly grip around seojun’s, pulling him away from the others without thinking twice. the young boy seems shocked by your actions as his legs adjust to your pace.

in no time, you find yourself running away from lee sungyong and his gang, your hand still clutched on seojun’s wrist. adrenaline courses through your veins as you pass several stores, pushing people out of your way. to the sound of lee sungyong shouting your names, you keep your breath steady, push harder and run even faster. 

seojun himself forces his legs to push harder, his lungs straining. his breath thickening, he steals a quick glance at you. the wind whips your hair away from your face as you face forwards with an uneasy look. his mind is frantic with thoughts: how is it possible to move this fast?

yet, at this great speed, you can barely see a few feet ahead of you. your feet nearly slip from beneath you when your shoes pound heavily across the ground and mud splashes up your leg. 

noticing this, seojun rapidly takes your hand into his own without slowing down and takes the lead. since the boy is familiar with this dark area, he sprints around the next corner. the shoutings behind you don’t stop, demanding you to stop running. after sprinting for solid minutes, you finally hide behind a wall when seojun finds a way to trick the gangsters.

heart pounding faster than ever, you’re still concerned that they will find you. seojun squats down next to you, his legs tired from all the running. when your surroundings are safe, you swiftly stand up while your breath comes in short gasps. 

claiming you’re tired would be an understatement. you are exhausted. still you feel relieved that you could escape the group of boys.

moments later seojun sighs with annoyance behind you. 

“why did you have to drag me away?” the boy complains before you turn around to face him with a frown on your face.

it’s dark and quiet outside, indicating that it’s probably really late. the air is cold which makes you shiver for a moment. when you wait for him to continue instead of answering, seojun groans, not believing that you seriously don’t understand what he’s trying to point out.

“they’ll think it’s weird of us to run away like cowards. ah, you’re really dumb.”

“i’m dumb?”, you raise your voice with squinted eyes before he can leave,

“you’re the one who believes fish are wet.”

“fish are wet.” the boy slowly turns around to face you again.

“they’re not because they’re surrounded by water. once they get out of-”

“it’s water, y/n!”

it’s not worth arguing with someone as dumb as him.

with a mirthless smile you shake your head,

“you’re the dumb one.”

after that you leave to make your way home, completely forgetting to ask seojun about his motorcycle. the boy himself watches you walk away with a little worry. shouldn’t he walk you home at this time? ah, never mind. 

and so he walks home by himself, not used to the fact that his motorcycle is away from him.

_

the next day in school seems like a regular one. fortunately, you were able to get enough sleep this time. thankfully, seojun’s motorcycle was no longer parked in front of your house this morning. not expecting anything spectacular to happen, you enter the classroom with several books in your arms, like always. however, as soon as some of your classmates notice you, they walk to your seat with widen eyes.

“y/n! where were you last night?”, soojin asks you with a calm tone.

sua hits your shoulder playfully and whines, “do you know how worried we were?!”

oh, no. you completely forgot to contact them after your small adventure with han seojun.

“poor suho looked everywhere for you.”, taehoon pouts, his glance darting to suho, who was sitting on his seat peacefully.

after hearing taehoon’s words, you turn your head to the innocent boy with regret written on your face,

“i’m so sorry.”

“don’t worry, y/n. we’re glad you’re okay.” suho smiles at you as the others agree.

the day passes normally, like you predicted, until lunch break. 

considering kim chorong is nowhere to be seen, and you’re trying to stay away from han seojun, you sit next to you other friends during lunch. the same people from the karaoke bar talk about their plans after school, when suddenly everyone looks up to the sight of han seojun’s. his loud steps and irritated expression catches all the attention in the canteen.

however, you feel concerned when you’re approached by him, your heart beating a little faster.

“yah, y/l/n y/n.” 

you gulp when he carefully talks in a controlled voice, glaring at you through his cat like eyes,

“come out.”

the whole lunch room gasps with surprise at his statement, anticipating on what will happen next. just when he grabs your arm to drag you out of the room, lee suho steps between you both, slapping seojun’s grip away from your arm,

“what do you think you’re doing?”, he speaks with a low voice.

“you better stay out of this.”

han seojun hisses and holds on your uniform this time, pulling you away from the others.

your head is filled with endless questions when you’re forced to follow him out. what have you done wrong? the corridor is empty and silent as the boy in front of you pounds his hand on the wall behind you, leaving only a small gap between your faces. your back is pressed against the cold wall. 

blown away by the sudden closeness you swallow dryly, unable to wet your parched throat. his sudden change in mood slightly intimates you.

“you think you can piss me off easily?”

you’re taken aback when he snaps.

“wh-what are you talking about?” nervously, you stammer while excessively blinking.

after that, seojun laughs with edge, eyes leaving yours for a moment to remain his calm. why are you pretending to not know? seconds later he bends down to your height, now even closer than before. eyes looking deeply into yours, he tries to read you. yet, the only thing he’s able to see is your confusion.

“do you believe giving my keys to that bastard is funny?”

“i have no clue what you’re talking about.” 

luckily, the worry in you melts down a little but you’re still confused.

“you’re really starting to get on my nerves now. this morning lee sungyong came to me with these, and my damaged bike.”

frustrated, seojun takes his keys out of his jacket-pocket and holds them up for you too see. a line forms between your brows when you stare at the keys, waiting for him to continue,

“and what do i have to do with that?”

“are you kidding me?! you’re the person who had my keys the whole time!” seojun hisses, his voice raising which causes you to flinch lightly,

“my bike was parked in front of your house, remember? you gave my keys to that bastard!”

“i didn’t have your keys!” finally you defend yourself, slowly getting annoyed by his behavior.

“you did, i gave them to you last week!”

seojun’s face is still insanely close to yours.

“you did, but i gave them back to you.” you look into his eyes with confusion.

“what?” seojun’s expression reflects your own.

“i-i put them into your pocket. didn’t you notice?”

oh no. he absolutely didn’t.

“when did you do that?”

“the day after you gave them to me. i thought you would notice.” you mumble the last part quietly, suddenly feeling like it’s your fault.

precisely, you remember how you put seojun’s keys back in his jacket, which was hanging on his seat when he wasn’t around. taking the opportunity, you decided to quickly put them in there without having to face seojun for it, since you weren’t on good terms. 

all this time you wondered why the boy wouldn’t pick up his bike. it was standing there whole time, which made you believe that maybe he truly wanted to quit riding his motorcycle.

however, it turns out that he never noticed. how did the others find his keys, though? was it your fault? perhaps you should have simply handed them to him personally instead of being stubborn.

seojun sighs with frustration and runs his hand through his hair,

“how did they get them then?”

suddenly it all clicks. everything makes sense when you remember every detail from last night. with unease your eyes widen,

“the jacket you wore last night... it was the navy one, right?”

he thinks for a moment before nodding, waiting for you to continue.

“i put the keys in that one. maybe it slipped out while we were running?”

you glance around, not focusing on anything as you try to avoid his eyes. this doesn’t feel good at all.

a momentary look of discomfort crosses seojun’s face. he realizes that you’re possibly right and that he shouldn’t have accused you to do something like that. the fact that he already messed up by telling suho to stay away from you makes everything even worse. he feels guilty when he catches you looking around nervously. it’s not your fault.

right when he’s about to form words, two students run past him which causes him to stumble over his feet in shock. on the spur of the moment, his body is pressed on yours. at the sudden contact, you let out a small gasp when you notice that you’re stuck between him and the wall. one of his palms is still pressed against the wall behind you, while the other one holds on your shoulder to steady himself.

both of you look up at the same time, embarrassed by his sudden actions. when your eyes meet, your heart pounds against your ribs as if trying to reach thousand beats. it’s so intense that you internally pray for him not to hear it. his face is only a few centimetres away from yours which makes you freeze on spot. somehow you feel his breath on your cheek and you think you’re about to lose it. 

why are you so nervous suddenly?

why does his gaze make your heart beat so fast?

carefully, you study seojun’s face. his dark hair partly falls over his forehead, his eyes now relaxed, cheeks tinted a bright shade of pink.

in fact, seojun is blushing profusely. just like you, he’s taken aback by the closeness and can’t help but gaze into your eyes deeply. he too, feels strangely nervous, a little too nervous if truth be told.

after what seems like seconds, you can’t stand it anymore and forcefully hit his forehead with your head, which makes him stumble backwards.

probing the pained area, seojun winces, “what the hell?!”

“i-i told you i didn’t give them your keys!”, you decide to come up with that instead of showing how the boy effected you so easily,

“you always put the blame on me.” after mumbling that you rush back to the canteen in super speed, hoping for your poor heart to calm down.

seojun only watches you sprint away, unaware of how he made you feel. rubbing his forehead painfully, he shakes his head in order to get rid of his thoughts.

there’s no way. i should probably just see a doctor.

_

time passes quickly and finally the important day has come: the school trip. everyone from your grade was talking about the upcoming event the whole time, planing several games and activities. for you it seems nice too but since you’re avoiding seojun, which also automatically makes it harder to see chorong, you worry how you’re going to spend the whole time on your own. it’s a bummer that lee suho refused to join the trip. certainly, you attempted to convince your friend but unsuccessful. 

as soon as you arrive at the school gates, where everyone is already waiting with their suitcases, you feel uneasy. nearing the others, you concern about the fact that you’ll probably have to sit alone in the bus. yet, when you finally approach the others you spot suho standing next to soojin, sua and taehoon. instantly, a smile appears on your face and you greet them, adding that you’re happy for suho to join them. glancing around, it doesn’t take you long to see han seojun next to kim chorong. without looking at them for too long, you focus back on your other friend group with little uncertainty. 

one by one, students enter the bus after putting their suitcases into the bus trunk. for some reason you happen to be the last person to enter the bus. after putting your luggage into the trunk, you’re ready to go inside. yet, out of nowhere chorong appears in front of you with puppy eyes, begging for you to pack his snacks into your backpack, since his own is already full. not thinking about it too much, you agree and start placing them into your bag. chorong smiles with satisfaction and thanks you before his eyes check behind him. he winks at sua and gives her a sign after making sure you’re not paying attention to him.

sua then pushes her boyfriend and soojin inside when nobody is left, leaving chorong and you alone. eventually you manage to push in all the snacks into your bag. you’re surprised when you see that everyone is already in the bus and follow chorong inside as well. 

as soon as you enter, suho finds your eyes and waves at you, indicating that he saved you a seat next to him. happily, you nod and wait for the others in front of you to take their seats. 

you fail to notice chorong’s eyes widen when he stops in front of you, not allowing you to sit next to lee suho. sua understands the situation and slightly pushes kang soojin towards the empty seat next to suho. 

oh, well.

both of your friends exchange surprised looks. however, seconds later soojin smiles at the boy next to him, starting a conversation.

as a matter of fact, you feel upset. disappointed, you move on, eyes not leaving chorong’s back. who are you going to sit next to now? 

when the boy in front eventually arrives at the very back, you’re concerned. surprisingly, kim chorong takes the seat behind han seojun, leaving the last seat, which was next to seojun, for you.

han seojun doesn’t bother looking up, as he’s focused on his phone. clearing your throat, you request,

“chorong-ah, change seats with me.” 

“nah, i like this seat.” stubbornly, he crosses his arms across his chest, head leaning against the window with closed eyes.

the short conversation catches seojun’s attention and he looks up with curiosity. after taking a look at the filled seats his eyes land and you. he’s surprised when he notices that you have to take seat next to him.

letting out a quiet sigh, you give chorong one last glare before sitting next to seojun. this is either going to be really awkward or provoking.

of course, once again you don’t notice chorong peeking at the both of you before giving sua and taehoon a thumbs up, content that their plan worked successfully.

“are you sure this is a good idea?” taehoon whispers to his girlfriend,

“they look like they’ll throw hands at each other any moment.”

“ ah, don’t worry. they’ll make up sooner than you think.” sua takes a quick glimpse of you plugging in your earpods without exchanging any words with the boy next to you.

but sua was wrong.

half an hour already passes and you still haven’t spoken any word. although, there‘s a small desire of talking to you in seojun, he can‘t make himself form the right words. 

right when chorong is about to lose hope and fall asleep, something finally happens.

feeling tired from all the packing last night, you sense your eyelids getting heavier and you’re struggling to keep them open. nonetheless, you’re no longer able to do so and you fall asleep instantly.

out of the blue seojun feels your head resting on his shoulder. the boy is dumbstruck when his eyes widen, holding in his breath for a moment. his body shuts down and he doesn’t know how to react when his posture stiffens. besides that, he feels the skin on his shoulder tingle. 

seojun almost curses under his breath when his heart races once again. this time, there’s a fluttering in his stomach as well, causing him to go speechless. from the corner of his eye, he observes your expression. a slight frown forms on your face, hair covering parts of it, lips in a small pout. 

no matter what you do, you look so effortlessly... good. it doesn’t make a difference to him if you’re annoyed, confused, happy or simply tired. he always notices himself looking at you the same way, with adoring eyes. attempting to ignore it, he chose to tease you, not daring to ever show you. 

he knew he went to far and feels stupid for his actions. yet, why doesn’t he just apologize? perhaps he doesn’t want to accept the fact that you mean much more to him. perhaps he’s afraid he’ll never mean more to you.

still asleep, you unknowingly move your head closer to seojun’s chest, feeling more comfortable this way. after that, he feels your arm wrap around his torso, almost snuggling him.

the boy’s heart melts at the sight of you. although his heart feels like exploding, he doesn’t want to admit that he kinda enjoys the skin-ship with his you. right when he’s about to run his hand through your hair, the sound of a camera catches his attention.

he looks up to find sua taking a polaroid picture, chorong awing at the sight of his two friends sharing a moment.

“aw, you guys are so cute!” sua jumps up and down, while handing seojun the polaroid picture.

suddenly seojun gets aware of his surroundings and the situation he finds himself in. he blinks a few times before moving his shoulder purposely while coughing, making your head fall down in a swift move.

before it hits his lap, you open your eyes and rub them with a displeased expression,

“what happened?”, you ask with a low voice, completely clueless. 

“why- why do you fall asleep on my shoulder? that’s so uncomfortable. get a pillow or something!”

seojun stammers in the beginning, eyes not able to meet your tired ones. your friends sigh with annoyance and return to their seats, disappointed by seojun’s change in mood.

“sorry.” after rubbing your eyes, you steal a short glance at seojun. you’re slightly embarrassed and fix your hair while sitting up properly.

the boy only shrugs, quickly hiding the polaroid in the pocket inside of his jacket before you can see it.

seemingly, this trip is not going to be easy for han seojun.

little does he know, this was only the beginning of cupid chorong’s plan.

_

to be continued...

[azucarian]

NEFELIBATA - Takuya Birthday Special

Masterlist No content/trigger warning. Extreme fluff <3

Takuya had grown upset at the possibility of his birthday being forgotten; especially considering his two childhood friends hadn't even raised so much as a 'happy birthday' to him. It's not like he particularly expected a gift - although it definitely would be nice. Tapping his pencil against the desk, he frowned - (Name) was the most attentive person he knew and even she had forgotten? Maybe he failed in making it known beforehand. At this point, he just wanted to go home and curl up into a ball with the birthday cake his mother had baked him.

Now that he thought about it, Makoto had an obsession with the western zodiacs - he always looked on those weird 'zodiac luckiness' websites. Cancer, that's what Takuya's zodiac was - the zodiac of the crab. His 'aligned' personality was about him being loving and full of emotions - but also moody, suspicious and overprotective. He was not moody, he'd like to believe. The thought made him grumpy-

Ah, wait, that'd be right then.

He mentally groaned as the bell signalling the end of the day sounded, and his phone let out the identifiable ping to tell him he'd received a message. Flipping his phone up, (Name)'s contact popped up.

(NAME)-CHAN Mizo Middle headin' out early - we'll see you later Taku-chan! Byebye!

So they had truly forgotten. Takuya felt himself visibly deflate; there goes his final slither of hope. He shrugged, at least he had all of that cake to himself. He began his journey home; the train ride being oddly silent - usually the group of them would rambunctiously play whilst (Name), Akkun and himself would stare judgingly. Until (Name) got annoyed with all the stares from the elderly people and try to beat them up. For someone who didn't fight, Takuya could admit that the girl punched way too hard.

Coming home to an empty house was normal; his parents worked long jobs to provide for them (he actually appreciated their evening absences because of Kiyomasa and his gang, but he no longer feared any of that). But it felt much more empty as he slipped his shoes off- Wait, those definitely were not his shoes.

Sloppily hidden amongst the eco-friendly tote bags, five pairs of shoes were stacked. Four pairs of messy trainers, and one pair of remotely looked after converses. He nearly laughed - so they were here. A surprise birthday party, he guessed. The idiot trio must've gotten side tracked and, in a hurry, (Name) or Akkun shoved the shoes to the side and threw the totes over them.

Takuya guessed he'd humour them after all their effort. Slipping his indoor slides onto his feet and hanging his bag up on the door, he slowly made his way to the living room - and, upon entering the dark room, the lights suddenly flicked on and the distinct sound of party poppers filled his ears (and kind of scaring him, admittedly).

"Happy birthday!" The collective cheer of each person brought a grin to his face; regardless of the under-planned surprise element, he couldn't contain his smile at the sight. Kazushi, Makoto and Takemichi each had several party hats decorating their heads - almost as if they were trying to imitate a crown. Akkun was off to the side with a bright grin and a party popper in his hand. (Name), however, wasn't in sight.

He was about to open his mouth to ask where she was when someone jumped onto his back, arms around his neck "Happy birthday, Taku-chan!" The familiarly cheery voice made him laugh, and he softly thanked them all. The girl of the group eagerly dragged him towards their paper cut out of a birthday cake laid out on the table, surrounded by gifts.

Takuya slowly opened each of them.

From Akkun, a new controller for his gaming console - the boy explaining it as a 'new' method for everyone to play together, instead of taking turns with one controller. He appreciated it, and smiled softly before gently placing it back in the box (promising that he'd play with Atsushi first and foremost).From Makoto, a porn magazine - he slightly sneered at the gift, and the dumb(est) boy began to whine and cry about how 'Takuya didn't like his gift'. Even (Name) sneered and appropriately smacked Makoto on the back of the head with an apologetic smile towards Takuya. The blonde just shook his head and thanked the boy reluctantly (he had definitely thought more of himself instead of Takuya - but it was funny regardless, both Kazushi and Takemichi seemed to think so, too).From Kazushi, a bunch of notebooks, pens and pencils - explaining it to him as a new hobby to pick up. According to him, Takuya looked like the 'artsy poet' type (admittedly, he couldn't help but agree). He tested the glittery gel pens on one of the note books and grinned - they were extremely pretty, perfect for exam note-taking too. He placed them to the side delicately and expressed his gratitude.

He couldn't help but side-eye Takemichi and (Name). Takemichi was someone who would buy an extremely expensively thoughtful gift - it always made him feel guilty for weeks after, because the determined blonde would never allow Takuya to repay him. And (Name)… he visibly sweated. She had no taste in gift giving, and her gift was probably going to be worse than Makoto's - appropriate, but worse. They all exchanged knowing glances as the girl turned around to push Takemichi's gift towards him.

Takemichi had gotten a choker chain; and, as expected, it looked expensive. On the front, 'TAKUYA' was written in cursive with two ruby colored stones either side - if he remembered ride, a ruby was his birthstone. He almost verbally awed, but, instead, opted for hugging Takemichi tightly with an over-the-top thank you. The bleached blonde looked very happy at Takuya's joy."It's time for my gift now, right?" (Name) cheerily reminded, pushing a large box forward "Don't be surprised; I asked for your parents permission too." What? Takuya rose an eyebrow. Parents permission? Whatever it was, the other four didn't seem to know either - they looked just as confused.

She raced out of the room for a few moments before returning with her head poked around the door, hiding her arms behind the door frame "Don't freak out, we have to be quiet." They all nodded "Promise?"

"Promise." They all quietly spoke, and Takuya could feel himself get slightly giddy. Whatever this was, he was excited - and he hoped he wasn't disappointed (he wouldn't be, regardless, because he'd get to jokingly bully her for a bad gift for the rest of her life). She slowly turned and walked in, and the bundle in her arms nearly sent him into cardiac arrest.

The cutest puppy was excitedly wagging its tail in her grip, adoringly staring at its new friends jovially. (Name) crouched down and softly placed it against the floor, and they all watched as it clumsily stumbled towards the closest human - Takuya himself. Pressing its wet nose against his arm, its little butt wiggled with the force of its tail.

"How- wha- I don't know how to react-" For the first time in a while, the group watched as an awe-stricken and very visibly shocked Takuya brought the puppy into his arms. (Name) laughed and slid to the floor beside him, gently patting the puppy.

"I spoke to your parents the other day before school about it; they said it'd probably do you good, especially with summer break comin' up. Keep you company, and you can go on walks with her." She explained whilst watching as the other four crowded round, each taking a turn at stroking the soft puppy.

"How the hell did you get her here?" Akkun questioned. It made all of them wonder; yeah, how? She had been with them all day, so how on Earth had she gotten a puppy to Takuya's house without them realising?

(Name) snorted "I asked Mikey-chan and Ken-kun to bring her; they put her in your room, in one of those play pens. Cute little thing was fast asleep but woke up straight away when hearing the door open. She was so excited." Takuya was so in love with this adorable creature that had found its new home in his arms "She ain't got a name, so that's up to you." He lit up, and the group laughed at his expression.

"Rocky." The name sent embarrassment into (Name)'s system, as she profusely rejected the name - completely being ignored by a cackling Takuya.

"Huh, what's so bad about Rocky? Rocky-chan is so cute!" Kazushi protested.

"It's Rocky because the last time me and (Name) hung out alone together, she fell into the river because of the rocks." The laughter from everyone was enough to make (Name) hide her face in her hands, muttering a 'I hate you' endearingly under her breath.

With his new friend and playmate in his hands, Takuya could wholeheartedly say... THIS WAS THE BEST BIRTHDAY EVER.

TAG LIST @dot0nix @starsandkeysruler @hikkarins @valbedo @notsodeadgirlwalking​

Feel free to ask to be added to the tag list!

HAPPY TAKUYA DAY!! Honestly, as a character, Takuya grew on me progressively - I didn’t like him much when I first started but he definitely got my heart </3 He’s so pretty and sweet (totally didn't mistake him for Mikey at the beginning lmao) ~

A proper update will come out over the weekend - I’m currently looking for work so interviews have been taking up a lot of time. I promise it’ll be out tomorrow/over the weekend! I love you all!

[xaharadesert]

Accidental Potion Drinking - Headcanon

Arcana Characters (Main 6) x MC

A/N: This is one of the super cute requests I’ve gotten from @firefly-child! It’s taken some time to get to it (as I’m currently working through older requests), but I’m super excited to write something light and fluffy :) the backstory provided was along the lines of MC and their LI having a little wine night when MC accidentally grabs the wrong bottle and they end up drinking a harmless potion instead, which is a really fun request! I don’t know anything about wine, so I’ll just casually skirt around that issue by leaving it to the reader’s imagination, but since the type of potion was left up to me I’ll definitely be having some fun describing the effects! Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes, and requests are open!

TW: drinking, consumption of alcohol, tipsy characters, mentions of alcohol, sorry I don’t really know how to tag for this kind of thing, but the alcohol bit is really only mentioned briefly to set up the scene

❤️Julian❤️

It didn’t take long to realize that you had grabbed the wrong bottle, considering that after the two of you had taken a few sips of what you had thought was wine you had both started slowly floating upward

There were a few moments where Julian thought to himself “wow, this stuff must be pretty strong, I kinda feel like I’m floating” before he realized that, oh, he was, in fact, floating

This was followed shortly after by only a second of panic, which quickly turned into delight when he remembered he was dating a magician and this sort of thing was probably normal for you

Honestly though, as endearing as it would be for him to simply trust that you were pulling a harmless prank, you would probably be panicking a bit more because oh my stars you grabbed the wrong bottle and which potion was this exactly?

But of course, Julian has an infectious laugh, and seeing as you were already a bit tipsy and nothing majorly bad was currently happening, you dissolved into a fit of giggles as well

By now the two of you were drifting near the ceiling (thank goodness you were inside), laughing at each other as you tried not to spin too far apart

The effects of the potion wore off a few minutes later, seeing as you had only had a few sips each, and you settled down peacefully, no harm done

🧡Portia🧡

The two of you had been having a rather peaceful evening, for once devoid of any sort of job or task that needed tending to

You were genuinely relaxing, drinking wine and telling bad jokes that would send you into full-bellied laughter— the kind that only seemed to grow whenever you tried to stop

With that being said, it wasn’t that surprisingly when the two of you developed a bad case of the hiccups after a while

What was surprising were the bubbles that floated from your mouth afterward

Although you were initially confused, Portia’s obvious delight at the magical turn of events quickly dissuaded your worries

She was always thrilled whenever you performed even the smallest bit of magic in your daily life, and this was no different, even if it was an accident on your part

Her hiccups only seemed to get worse as she laughed harder, tears of joy starting to spill from her eyes

The mood was infectious, and you would find yourself joining her in her pure delight

Small moments of joy such as this permeated your relationship, but this one in particular would always be a favourite of Portia’s, she was sure

💛Lucio💛

You know, even with Mercedes and Melchoir’s incessant barking, you two had been having a rather relaxing evening, sharing your favourite wines with each other as Lucio regaled you with endless stories of his epic past battles and parties

However, as always, things took a turn in the most unexpected way

The two of you had only taken a few sips of a bottle you had brought out when you noticed the dogs’ barks seemed to sound… different

You tuned out Lucio for a moment and came to the realization that you were, in fact, hearing actual genuine words coming from the dogs’ mouths as they yelled at Lucio, an endless chant of “Dad, dad, dad!”

Lucio seemed to have not noticed, so you gave him a gentle shove and motioned for him to be quiet and listen to the dogs, which promptly lead to his own eyes widening and his mouth hanging open as he processed what was happening

He was thrilled, obviously, to be able to communicate with his beloved dogs, and all thoughts of the story he was telling were forgotten

In all honesty, Mercedes and Melchior didn’t seem to have a lot to say other than “Dad!” and “Love!”, but Lucio’s eyes were brimming with tears anyway as he hugged his dogs close

Let’s be real, having the opportunity to tell a beloved pet that you love them and to have them understand it would be one of the greatest feelings of all time, and Lucio was determined to not waste a second

What may have been a small mistake on your part was one of the greatest moments of Lucio’s life, in his words

💚Muriel💚

It wasn’t noticeable at first— then again, Muriel’s voice was rather deep

But after a few more sips, you couldn’t deny it; his voice was definitely getting higher

He had been in the middle of telling you about something funny one of the chicken’s had done that day, and you had been quietly listening, but now you absolutely had to know

So, as politely as possible, you interrupted him, only to find that, oh, yeah, your voice was much higher than before

Both of you seemed pretty shocked, but let’s be honest, it’s hard not to laugh when it sounds like both of you had just inhaled helium, which, apparently, was the effect of the potion you had accidentally poured out for the two of you to drink

Muriel tried to stifle his laughter, but failed miserably as you embraced the situation and let out a long and loud sound of joy

There was no harm in drinking the potion, luckily, so the two of you decided to continue as you were, telling stories in the most serious voices you could while trying not to burst out laughing

💙Asra💙

Most evenings you spent alone with Asra were filled with quiet laughter and gentle light continuing to illuminate the room even after the sun had bid you goodnight, and today was no different

You had opened a new bottle of wine just a few minutes prior, despite both you and Asra having slightly rosy cheeks from being a bit tipsy already

The cozy light of the lantern above your head reflected off of him in a way that almost made him seem like he was glowing, although combined with the way he dressed it wasn’t very unusual

That was until you reached out to him to push aside a stray curl from his face and subsequently realized that relative to you, he really was very much actually glowing

You had been telling him about a particularly stubborn customer earlier, and as a result, hadn’t had as much to drink, so the difference was clear

He picked up on your surprise quickly, and reached up toward his own hair, thinking perhaps there was something stuck in it that startled you, only to also see his skin was glowing with a faint light

Of course, he knew as well as you did that potions were often misplaced in the shop when there was no real urgency to keep them sorted, so he knew right away what was happening, and, frankly, he found it hilarious

If you were at all apprehensive about drinking random potions while tipsy, Asra would have been pick to put those thoughts from your mind by quickly downing more of the potion and snuffing out the lantern

This on it’s own would have been a funny sight, but when he smiled widely at you and you noticed that even his teeth were glowing with a bright white light, you wouldn’t have been able to do anything but laugh, which, of course, had been his plan all along

He would encourage you to drink the potion as well so the two of you could wander around in the darkened Vesuvian streets and scare other citizens :)

💜Nadia💜

Wine nights with Nadia are pretty common— it’s one of her favourite ways to unwind after a long day of working to improve Vesuvia

However, she’s usually the one providing the wine (seeing as she’s a very wealthy Countess), so nights like this one, where you brought over some of your favourites to share, were rather uncommon

The two of you weren’t particularly tipsy when you accidentally poured a potion into her glass instead of wine— an accident that you immediately recognized when Nadia morphed into an entirely different person in front of your eyes

Nadia herself seemed a bit surprised as well, seeing as the effect of the potion usually left the user with a mild child down their spine

You were quick to point out the error and apologize, but to your confusion Nadia seemed thrilled with the mistake

Blending in with Vesuvia’s population to gain a better understanding of her people was something she had always struggled to do, but you had just handed her the perfect opportunity

Wine forgotten, she grabbed your hand and lead you toward what was sure to be one of the most adventurous nights you had ever had in Vesuvia

[letarasstuff]

Making the Voice quieter

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you like it!

Summary: Spencer finds out about his daughter's eating disorder, he will he react?

Warnings: Angst, discription of an eating disorder (bulemia to be more specific), discription of (binge) eating, bad body image, self hatred, abuse of pills (diet pills)

Wordcount: 2.2k

✨Masterlist✨

______________________________

Prison. Cat. Diana. All those things happened close to each other. Luckily a few months have passed since then and slowly everything settles down. Spencer is able to get his feelings sorted through, processing the events.

Ever since his imprisonment he follows a more or less strict routine, given the uncertainty coming with his job. Spencer still tries to keep it up. So is every Friday dedicated to buying the majority of groceries and needed non food articles.

Sometimes (Y/N) tags along, other days she already has plans with her friends. Her father doesn’t mind it much, he is happy to see her socializing with people her age. The two of them have one father-daughter-night in the week anyways.

“Sweetheart, I’m heading out! Did you put everything you need on the list?” He shouts into the apartment. A faint “Yes! Love you!” echoes back to him. A smile forms on the doctor’s face. Oh how he longed to hear those words from her every night while he laid in his bed, locked up for a crime he didn’t commit. “Alright, love you, too!”

Meanwhile her father has to deal with Karens being their ignorant selfs, (Y/N) is under the biggest stress she has ever been. The end of her sophomore year and suddenly every teacher thinks it’s alright to give the students a load of work in every single class.

It’s beginning to get to her head. Four essays, three projects and studying for two tests and everything is due next week. She can see herself sitting at that very desk for the whole weekend, trying to contain control of her current situation.

As (Y/N) begins to read the page in front of her again to pull any information from it, it feels like her brain shuts down. Only one thought possesses her. One thing that can assure her, make her happy again.

Her body moves automatically, into the kitchen to the fridge. Her hands grab what they can. Puddings, yogurts, bananas, apples, last night’s dinner, everything that she can carry. Then the teenager sits down at the floor and devours everything she just got out. (Y/N) doesn’t stop until she gets to this intense feeling of being full.

It seems like she snaps out of a trance. Upon seeing what she ate in the shortest time, the girl feels even worse. Quickly she tries to destroy any kind of evidence, getting the trash out, making the fridge appear more full than it is, anything.

In her panicked state she remembers the small container of pills in her room. Relief washes over (Y/N), thinking everything will be better. She takes two of them for good measurement.

With the relief also guilt takes over. What just happened wasn’t normal. But (Y/N) tells herself that she can stop any time she wants. It’s not like she is sick or something, everything is fine. It’s just her way to copy stress. A way she discovered while her father was in prison. The diet pills help her to undo her mistakes. Someone from her friend group, who is already 18, got her them from the doctor for a fair price.

Feeling calmer now, the teenager sits back at her desk. A new perception of control helps her to continue her school work. She has to get done as much as possible, because in not even half an hour (Y/N)’s best friend will be the toilet.

Spencer is completely obvious to it. Sure, he is a profiler and he noticed his daughter’s new view on eating healthy food and working out. He just assumes that (Y/N) and her friends are on a healthy trip and he doesn’t see a problem in this. On the contrary, he is happy that she wants to be good to herself and her body.

But as the weeks go on, a suspicious feeling captures him. “(Y/N)? Why is the fridge nearly empty? We got groceries last Friday and it’s only Tuesday. Did you have a party over here while I was away on the case?” Spencer enters his daughter’s room, trying to joke about it.

(Y/N) freezes. Of course she isn’t able to say that the food went bad and she threw them away, her father is meticulous regarding this subject, always checking the best before day date. “Uhm, please don’t be mad. But Alex, you know her, the short one with red hair, uhm her parents are on a business trip and she is not the best cook. So I brought her lunch and dinner over. I’m sorry for not telling you.” She looks down at the floor, not only to feign sadness but also to avoid his eyes.

The second the teenager talks Spencer knows there is something fishy. Her voice is higher and she fidget with her hands. But he writes it off as being nervous for not telling him. Ever since he is out of prison, it feels like his daughter is withholding something.

“It’s fine, Sweetheart. Just give me a heads-up beforehand, so I know to buy more groceries. What do you think about ordering something tonight? I heard from Luke that a small Chinese restaurant opened a few streets down. We can celebrate the end of the stressful phase in Sophomore year.”

It seems like (Y/N) is calculating something in her head. Spencer knows exactly what she thinks about. “You can forget about your calorie intake for one night. I see how much time you invest in living healthy, but we can let loose for a night together. Just some noodles with chicken or spring rolls and us trying to use chopsticks and giving up after two minutes and resorting to forks. How does that sound?”

The teenager would love to sigh, but it would only alarm her father further. “Yeah, you are right. Let us let loose. But only if I can choose the movie we watch after dinner!” (Y/N) feels bad for eating unhealthy food again. Her last binge was only yesterday and usually she tries to consume lighter things. But she has to bite into the sour apple, else her father will be more suspicious. After all, she can just stop. (Y/N) promises herself to not think about her weight, her shape or the calories she will eat.

Well yeah, no. Just after the first noodle hits her tongue, intrusive thoughts take a seat in her mind, getting settled.

‘You already look like a potato.’

‘Are you sure this is the right thing to eat?’

‘Can you really stop?’

‘Dad is going to hate you when he finds out.’

All of them and more enter her head. (Y/N) is unable to shake them off. She is fine. She doesn’t have a problem. She just doesn’t feel like eating now, that’s fine, right?

“Uhm Dad. I’m full and really tired from the day. Is it ok if I go to bed? Maybe we can rain check on that movie?” The girl asks, feeling even worse for ditching her father. Usually it’s the other way around.

“Are you feeling ok? You look a little pale. Are you sick?” Spencer fires his question canone being the borderline helicopter father he always is. “Yes, just really exhausted from all the assignment and school work. A good night's rest and I will be good as new.” (Y/N) attempts a small smile, but fails miserably at it.

“Ok, sleep tight baby. I’ll put the leftovers in the fridge for you tomorrow.” Quickly she goes into her room. The thoughts in her head scream louder and louder with each step she takes. Can she really stop? Maybe she should come clean to her father.

‘And risking him hating you? Look at you, thinking you are sane is the only thing keeping him from abandoning you. How would you explain him keeping you otherwise? It’s definitely not for your looks.’

Later that night, (Y/N) hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep because of the voices, she makes her way back to the kitchen. In an attempt to distract herself, the teenager scrolled through her social media sites. There she was met by pictures of perfect people.

Perfect bodies. Perfect lives. Perfect smiles. Perfect family. Perfect friends. Everything about them is perfect.

And then there is her. Her body is unperfect. Her life is a mess. Her smile is not that of a model. Her family is just her, her father and the people he works with. Her friends aren’t always the best associates.

The stress of not feeling enough is getting to (Y/N)’s head. Like several times before that her body goes into auto. She doesn’t control her movements, though she tells herself all of this is willently.

Like so many times before the girl goes through the fridge and eats everything up she can get her fingers on. But this time one thing is different. Her father is at home. And he isn’t a heavy sleeper.

The movement in the kitchen wakes him up. Immediately his brain jumps to a burglar or even worse, an UnSub they once arrested coming after him. Quickly he gets his revolver and sneaks through the hallway to the source of the noises. As Spencer only sees his daughter sitting there, he instantly relaxes.

“Hey Sweetheart, what are you doing up? It’s a school night”, he softly asks in order to not scare her. Still, (Y/N) gets startled at the sudden voice.

“Uhm, nothing much. Just hungry. Probably because I didn’t eat dinner”, she explains, looking at her father like he caught her with her hand stuck in the cookie jar. Spencer watches her closely. “This is it? Because from what it looks like you not only ate your dinner but also tomorrow’s breakfast and right now lunch.”

(Y/N) swallows her bite, feeling that sinking reality in her stomach. The pills. She needs the pills fast before her body begins to digest the food. “Uhm, yeah. I probably should go to bed. I need my sleep. Just let me tidy up. Good night, Dad.” But he is quick to stop her.

“(Y/N), I want you to sit down. There is something we have to talk about.” Hesitantly (Y/N) takes a seat. “What is it Dad? Are you reprimanding me for eating? I thought you wanted me to let loose for a night.”

Spencer sits, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Baby, I want you to be alright. But I think you are not.” His eyes get a sad look. “I’m alright. I am fine, Dad. What do you think is wrong with me?”

“Look, (Y/N), I don’t need to be a profiler to see that you are struggling with something. Do you want to tell me about it?” Her answer is a tight lipped smile and a “I’m fine. There is nothing to talk about.”

The father sighs. She is not leaving him much of a choice. “And what about them?” Spencer asks after getting something from the highest shelf in the kitchen, the one (Y/N) barely reaches by stepping on a stool. He sets a little container down on the table.

“Dad I-” “No (Y/N). You don’t need to explain anything. It’s my turn to talk. I found those in your room yesterday while I was looking for a book. At first I thought nothing of it, I mean you are trying to live healthy, so I thought this is part of the process. But then I saw that they have to be prescribed and I know that these aren’t yours.

“I wanted to talk about it with you anyway. But now I know that I caught you binge eating and I see all the signs. I see them and I’m sorry for not acting sooner. (Y/N), you need help and I’m here for you. I know the last few months were especially hard on you. I can’t change what was and what happened, but I will be here for you now." Tears stream down on boths their faces.

(Y/N) is stammering for words. “I-I am fine. I can stop anytime I want. Th-this was a conscious d-decision.” Her father envelops her in a hug, cradling her head to his chest. She begins to sob.

“I know, Sweetheart. It’s hard and it won’t get easier from here on, but I’m here. You know you can’t stop, it’s only an illusion your eating disorder wants you to believe. But we get through it together. You, I and the team if you want to. We take it at your pace.” By now the two are crying loudly.

“I want it to stop, Dad. Please make the voice go away.”

He can’t make it go away. No one can. But Spencer helps to quiet it. Together they tackle the disorder, through the good and the bad times. He takes off from work for a time and (Y/N) out of school for a few weeks to be able to work on it together, to make the voice quieter and her life better.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

[upat4amwiththemoon]

The Scary People Next Door part 3

Summary: Two women move to the neighborhood, it seems like there’s more to them than meets the eye.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: nightmare (let me know if there are any!)

Word count: 2299

a/n: Finally a new part! Hope you enjoy, feedback is always appreciated :)

Tags: @madamevirgo @fishlikestuff @hi-i-1 @d14n4ol @simpforwandanat @diaryoflife @emilyprentissslut @idek-5

Y/N declines Darcy’s call for the fifth time in the span of an hour. She has been trying to call her the whole day, even Monica called her a few times, but Y/N hasn’t answered to any of them. She knew Darcy would eventually end up knocking on her door and possibly breaking in with the help of Monica’s tech if she didn’t answer soon. She couldn’t bring herself to pick up the phone and talk to Darcy, yesterday’s events still clear in her head.

Groaning, Y/N plays a voicemail Darcy just left her. “Listen, I don’t know what is going on with you right now, but I don’t appreciate you ignoring me. So, you better answer my next call or I’m coming over with Monica. And if you even think about not opening the door, I’ll call Jane and drag her here to drag your ass out of the bed!” The voicemail ends.

Jane Foster, Y/N and Darcy’s best friend, who neither of them have seen in years. Y/N met her and Erik Selvig through Darcy while she was helping with Jane’s astronomy research for college credit. Y/N decided to tag along and help as much as possible. They became close, and still are to a certain extent, but things happen. Darcy had to leave to finish college and become an astrophysicist, Jane got a new job at S.H.I.E.L.D and Y/N had to find an actual job that is in her skill set rather than being strung along with different doctors.

Jane was always known to be a bit bossy. It wasn’t always a bad thing, she needed to be bossy as a woman in that field of work to be heard and taken seriously. For Y/N that meant doing things that she didn’t want to do, like getting a job. If it wasn’t for Jane, she'd most likely still follow Darcy around like a lost puppy, which isn’t necessarily a good thing. She is very grateful for Jane pushing her into getting a job. That being said, she knows Jane would come over and make her spit out everything if Darcy did call her.

Her phone goes off. Y/N rubs her eyes frustratedly before picking up the phone and answering it. “Hi.”

“Hi? You ignore my calls the whole day and all you say is hi?”

“I’m sorry.” Y/N sighs. “I really just don’t feel like talking today.” She mumbles while laying in her bed. She has been laying on her bed the whole day, only getting up to go to the bathroom and get something to drink. She tried to convince herself that yesterday didn’t affect her, but it did, a lot more than she’d like to admit.

”That’s usually the time you need to talk to people the most.”

She did need someone to talk to. The feeling of rambling everything she feels to Darcy was strong, but the guilt of making her problems Darcy’s problems was bigger.

“I’m just tired, nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Would you like me and Monica to come over?”

Y/N bites her tongue, Darcy’s words bringing her close to tears. The damned question: Are you okay? That one question makes her want to spill out her guts instantly. “No, I’d rather be alone.”

Darcy mumbles something that Y/N can’t hear, probably to Monica. They have a silent conversation while Y/N waits for Darcy to answer her. “We’ll come over tomorrow.”

Knowing Darcy wasn’t asking her whether or not that’s okay, Y/N just hums in confirmation before saying her goodbyes and hanging up the phone. After throwing her phone somewhere to the table, she closes her eyes, ready to fall asleep.

“Hello!” She yells to the abyss, her voice echoing through the never ending emptiness. “Anyone there?” When Y/N’s only answer is her own voice bouncing back to her, she starts walking. At least she thinks she is walking. The space she’s in is pitch black, so Y/N wasn’t sure if she was moving anywhere.

Suddenly she starts falling. Y/N screams as her body flies down with no signs of stopping. She desperately tries to hold on to something, anything to stop her from falling, but to no avail. There’s nothing around her to grasp onto, only darkness and quiet apart from her screams.

A punch to the face changes her scenery. She groans, trying to lift her hand up to her face but gasping when she isn’t able to. Y/N’s eyes snap open in panic. She looks at her surroundings, noticing it’s the same room she was in not too long ago. However, now it was just a little more unsettling. She didn’t know what it was that made her feel so different from the real thing, nothing was visibly wrong. It just felt bad. Perhaps it was because she knew she was in a dream and she had gone through this already.

“Pay attention!” A very distorted voice shouts, punching Y/N to the face once again. She lifts up her head. The what’s supposed to be one of the men that hurt her definitely didn’t look like one. Its whole body was blurry and it moved to every direction. Its voice sounded like someone spoke through a broken megaphone, the voice cracking every now and then.

“What the fuck are you?” Y/N’s voice was a mere whisper compared to the creature.

The thing doesn’t answer, simply smirks, or at least it looks like a smirk. It starts walking around her, glitching when it takes a step forward. As it stops behind the chair, it sets a hand on top of Y/N’s head. She screams, all the pain she felt during that day going through her body in seconds.

Y/N screams as she sits up and looks around her, hands swatting away any remaining feelings of the thing. Her room is darker now, the clock being almost 11 pm. She stands up, runs downstairs and out the front door. This most likely isn’t the best idea, but Wanda did ask her if she wanted to stay at their place. If the question was genuine or not wasn’t clear to Y/N, but right now she’d like to think Wanda meant it.

She didn’t even know why Wanda and Natasha’s house was the first place she thought of. Maybe it was because she felt weirdly comforted by Wanda’s presence, or because they simply were the only people who know what happened.

Knocking on their front door, Y/N starts doubting herself. She almost turns around and leaves, but Wanda opens the door before she can.

“Hey, are you okay?” Wanda’s concern fills her ears. And so the waterworks start. Wanda gasps lightly, pulling Y/N into her arms as she sobs. She whispers sweet nothings to her ear while guiding her inside to sit on the couch. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Y/N leans more into Wanda, putting her head on Wanda’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She mumbles. “I couldn’t sleep, I just can’t be alone.” She sniffles, backing away from the hug as she tries to stop crying.

“That’s okay.” Wanda has a gentle smile on her face that melts Y/N inside.

The feeling makes her question everything. Why is she feeling this way? She met Wanda only a week ago. These kinds of feelings weren’t supposed to awaken so soon.

“What’s going on here?” Natasha, who neither of the two noticed coming in, asks.

Y/N looks down, letting Wanda take control of the situation. “She’s staying the night.” She says as if it was obvious, which makes Y/N frown. It wasn’t her plan to stay the whole night, not wanting to bother the two, but she isn’t opposed to the idea.

“Only if that’s okay.” Y/N adds, lifting her head to look at Natasha, who only glances at her before turning to Wanda. They seem to have a silent conversation going on. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing for Y/N if they were talking telepathically, knowing Wanda did have some kind of powers.

Her eyes widen. Is she able to read minds? Has she ever read her mind?

Wanda pulls Y/N up from the couch, bringing her back to the present. “Come on. You seem tired.” She leads her upstairs to her room. “You can sleep in my bed, I’ll take the floor.”

“What? No, I can’t let you do that.”

Wanda smiles, taking Y/N’s hands to her own. “You’re my guest.”

Y/N stares at Wanda’s green eyes, finding herself mesmerised by them. They are beautiful, she could look at them all day. It feels like Y/N is transferred into a whole new world as she feels herself falling deeper into her gaze. Soon she starts relaxing her muscles, Wanda’s gentle smile and sparkling eyes bringing her comfort. Y/N glances at her lips, wondering if they are as soft as they look. Judging by Wanda’s widening grin, she is listening to her thoughts. Y/N averts her eyes back to Wanda’s.

“Go ahead.” Wanda says with a playful tint in her voice. Y/N frowns, making Wanda giggle. “Ask what you want to ask. I don’t mind”

She blushes, trying to drop her head down to look at the floor, but Wanda’s hand on her chin stops her. Wanda knowing what she wanted should have scared her more than it did, but right now she didn’t care.

Y/N gives Wanda a shy smile. “Can I kiss you?” She whispers. If Wanda hadn’t been so close to her, she would’ve missed it. When Wanda nods, Y/N pulls her closer and kisses her. Wanda sets her hands on Y/N’s waist, while her hands travel through Wanda’s hair.

Wanda pulls back, tightening her grasp on Y/N’s hips. Her eyes are a darker shade of green as she kisses Y/N again and again.

For the next two weeks Wanda and Y/N take it publicly slow, hiding whatever they have going on from their friends. Of course, Natasha being a literal spy, she caught on pretty quick. Not that the couple were that good at hiding it. Wanda spent a lot more time at Y/N’s house, sometimes even nights. Natasha wasn’t mad per se, Wanda was so much happier now, but she was hesitant. Dating someone outside of their field of job always proved to be difficult, no matter how many times one of them tried to have a successful relationship. It always failed one way or another.

Wanda didn’t want to think about that. She had heard a lot of dating horror stories from the other Avengers, but she knew she could make it work. She just needed to be careful and choose the best approach of telling Y/N what she really did. She already knew she had magic, that’s one difficult conversation out of the way, and she knew Wanda’s job is something dangerous because of the kidnapping. Not the way Wanda would’ve wanted Y/N to find out, but it’ll make the actual telling easier.

“I’m going to check up on Y/N!” Wanda tells Natasha as she opens the door. She had different excuses to tell Natasha. Checking up on Y/N, helping her cook or fix something, comforting her through hard times and so on. Sometimes they were true. Wanda did help Y/N during a nightmare or a difficult day many times after the unfortunate event.

Natasha hums, her eyes never leaving the television. “Make sure to check her neck better this time, it had quite many bruises on it last time.” Her voice was completely monotone, but she had the tiniest smirk on her face.

Wanda freezes, almost dropping the piece of cake in her hand. “I’m sorry?” She squeaks out.

“I’m just saying.” Natasha turns to look at Wanda. “You two are doing an awful job hiding the signs.”

“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, so someone else must’ve done them. Or perhaps a mosquito, hair straightener, a match... I know all the tricks, Wanda.”

Wanda closes the door, sighing. “Fine, you’re right. What now?”

“That’s not up to me, it’s your call. Just be careful. These kinds of pairings don’t usually last.” Natasha didn’t want to be so pessimistic of their relationship, she has actually started liking Y/N, not that she’d ever let either of them know. She still wanted Wanda to know the hardships these kinds of situations brought into their lives. “Besides, we can’t live here forever, the mission is almost over, then we go back.”

“I know, Nat, I do. I’m not letting that stop me though, because I really want this to work.”

Natasha nods with a smile. “Then I’m rooting for you two.”

“Thank you.” Wanda’s smile returns to her face as she opens the door again. “Now, I’m going to go and spend some quality time with Y/N, don’t wait up.” She steps outside and closes the door, not waiting for Natasha’s answer. It would’ve been something witty.

Wanda knocks on Y/N’s door, feeling nervous. Natasha was right. Soon they’d have to go back to the Avengers compound and she couldn’t see Y/N whenever she wanted. It also meant going back to no contact missions. They could last months. Wanda didn’t want to disappear for months with Y/N having no way of knowing whether she was okay or not.

Y/N opens the door, but not with the excited look Wanda was waiting for. Her brows were furrowed and she looked almost angry. “Why didn’t you tell me you are an Avenger?”

[comfortwriting]

A Summer Secret Part 1 - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

Part 1 of my mini-series 'A Summer Secret' want to be tagged? Let me know!

Part 2

Requested/About: After bursting a water pipe and flooding his house, Fred needs a place to stay - whilst the family is on a vacation he temporarily stays at  George's house. Y/N tries to get out of an arranged marriage her parents have planned with the Malfoy Family. Failing to do so, she flees to George's house - the father of her best friends who promised she could stay there to escape. Fred and Y/N meet unexpectedly, and something sparks between them - something that Fred vows to be nothing more than a summer fling, a summer secret... but is it?

Warnings: Age gap relationship (y/n is 18), swearing, mention of arranged marriage, mention of food and eating.

Staring out of the train window, bidding farewell to the mountains, the river, and to Hogwarts, you felt tears prick at your eyes. You weren't ready to go home for summer, you never did - you were always at the Twin's house, living under George and Angelina's roof to escape the arguments your parents caused when you said no to them controlling every aspect of your life.

Unfortunately, Gideon and Fabian were going away for the summer with their parents to visit Charlie and you were unable to join them, you understood and was fine with it, but you were absolutely terrified to step foot into your home, with your parents trying to force you into a marriage you didn't want.

"Cheer up, Y/N." Fabian frowned "I hate seeing you upset."

You broke your stare from the scenery and looked over at your best friends, taking some puking pastilles from their bags.

"Just in case" you muttered, "If they're sick they'll leave me alone."

Fabian smirked and shook his head, tutting "Did they say anything else in the letter?"

You shook your head back "No, they just told me I didn't have a choice.  I've graduated, I'm eighteen yet I can't decide what I want for myself."

"I can't imagine getting married at this age to someone I've probably never met."

You stared at Fabian, a little sore and taken aback by his sudden burn.

"Thanks, Fabian, I can't either." You squirmed in your seat and pulled out some jelly snakes from the bag of sweets you were sharing, biting and pulling at the tail, stretching the snake, bursts of green apple and lime flooded your mouth.

"I'm sorry Y/N," he apologised starting to panic.

You shrugged it off and tried to stay calm, throwing him a jelly snake"It's okay."

Gideon rummaged through his large bag and pulled out a large bronze key, handing it to you. "If things get really bad, stay at our house anyway."

You smiled slightly and took the key from him, examining it before stuffing it in your pocket "Thanks, lads."

Fabian nodded his head, flicking through job applications he had filled out before sighing and plonking them back in his bag. "Thank Merlin we've got dads shop"

"Tell me about it" Gideon replied "Uncle Fred will be chuffed when we roll up begging for a job."

The two of them laughed, waiting for you to join in, but you were too busy staring out of the window getting lost in what could unfold in a few hours time.

Dear Y/N,

We are so proud of you for working so hard, we are very eager to find out your N.E.W.T results in the next few months to come.

Your mother and I have been looking for jobs you can apply to once you're home, if you've got the grades, working for The Ministry seems rather promising. Your friend's uncle worked as an Auror for a little while, the one who now picks up spare shifts at that joke shop every now and then.

Anyway, we have got some news we need to share it with, unfortunately, we are unable to tell you in person as the wait is too long, but I don't doubt our owl is rather fast at delivering letters; a lot faster than yours it seems.

We have decided that you will be getting an arranged marriage, your status needs to be high if you want to go for and do well in life, you will marry into a very successful family, one that will open doors for you which your N.E.W.Ts cannot.

If you have anything going on with anyone right now, you need to end it before you arrive home. This matter is not up for discussion, neither is the family we have chosen for you.

Arrive home on time, well dressed, and we will go through the meeting. Don't you dare show us up in front of them, you will regret it.

Please write back, I'm not sending another owl to check on you and you are old enough to realise that Howlers are for kids.

Grow up and act like an adult.

See you soon.

Safe Travels,

-  Y/D/N

Grumbling down the path to your house, your stomach started to do flips as you inched closer and closer to the front door. Seeing yourself in the reflection of the glass diamond shape in the middle of the door, you quickly fixed your hair that got ruffled in the wind, unrolling your skirt and straightening out the creases in your blouse.

Taking a deep breath, you exhaled and pushed the front door open, carrying your trunk inside, your owl flying inside eagerly for scraps of food. Your heart thumped in your chest and you could hear each thump in your ears.

"Mum!" you called out "Dad!"

"We're in the living room, Y/N," Y/D/N replied.

Setting down your trunk beside the stairs in case you needed to make a quick escape, you walked into the living room, staring at your shoes, afraid your parents had already pulled out a wedding dress and pamphlets of various venues waiting to be hired.

"How lovely to see you," your mother smiled, getting out of her seat to pull you into a hug before your dad cleared his throat.

Yeah, go on, scare her away from me like you always do.

Your mum quickly sat back down beside your father who didn't hug you or welcome you home. Instead, he pulled two moving photographs from the pocket in his waistcoat, setting them face down on the table in front of you.

This must be the family he's chosen for me.

"Well dressed like I asked, thank you." He smiled "You'll be happy to know that the family we have picked out for you are rather eager to... get the ball rolling. They've been kind enough to offer to cover the costs of the wedding, and helping you move into their home once you have married their son."

A wedding... I won't get to choose...

Moving into their home... where I cannot escape...

Fred cursed under his breath standing in his kitchen, the bottom of his trousers heavy and drenched because of the water rising up to his ankles. He dragged himself around the kitchen, searching for some parchment and a quill, but with no luck, he grabbed the muggle telephone, trying to remember how to ring his brother.

"Hello, George Weasley speaking-"

"Alright, Mr Fancy arse" Fred replied, swearing as his shoes started to squelch with each step "Look, I need some help."

Angelina could be heard in the background, telling George to meet her at the airport after she lands with the boys.

"What's up, Freddie?"

Fred sighed "I'm up to my ankles in water, a bloody pipe burst and these muggles take ages to get here. The whole house will be flooded by the time you get here, can I crash at your place? I don't want to bother mum, she's got enough going on with Ron and Hermione's newborn."

George smirked through the phone, amused at his brother's bad luck with something as simple as a water pipe, magic not being able to fix it after a prank going wrong with Fred's wand.

"Of course, me, Angelina, and the boys will be gone for a few weeks though, there's enough food and that - all I ask is that you look after the owls for us."

Fred walked up the steps, his lower legs now getting wet "Thank you, George, I owe you one!"

"It's okay Freddie, just don't get up to any trouble."

"I won't. Say hi to Charlie for me!"

If Gideon and Fabian knew Uncle Fred was staying at the house too, they would have texted you, sent an owl if they didn't have any signal, but they didn't know - and their father didn't think to tell them.

If Fred knew a younger girl would be staying in the house, he would have rented a room somewhere else, hell, he would've stayed in the office above the shop, but he didn't know.

And you of all people would've forced yourself to stay under your parent's roof for a little longer, or jump on a plane and bump into Gideon and Fabian just by chance, but they didn't tell you.

Fred always felt amazed when he was in George's house - it was large and cosy, a proper family home, a master bedroom with an ensuite, two guestrooms where you had slept during previous summer - where the twins often slept instead of their own room from time to time, and a large bathroom that could fit in the whole Weasley family.

You swallowed hard, shifting in the stiff chair, you shook your head, your voice wobbly as you tried to speak.

"Dad, I appreciate all of this, I really do - but I'm an adult, it isn't your choice or right to make decisions for me, I don't want to get married, I don't want to live with another-"

You wanted to continue, but Y/D/N glared at you, he spoke through gritted teeth, flipping over the photographs of the family trying to buy you for their son.

"How dare you disrespect me. After everything I have done for you, for this family, you are not an adult, you still act like a child!"

"I'm eighteen!" you snapped, feeling brave, finding your voice.

"You are still living under my roof! You will do as I say!"

Your mother did nothing but stare into the fireplace, perhaps deep in thought or imagining you in a white lace dress, walking down the aisle with a face smile plastered on your face.

"No, I will not!"

"You will!" your dad bellowed, rising out of his chair "because they are coming to meet you in an hour and you better comply, girl!"

Tears pricked at your eyes, your chest tightened and the familiar lump formed in your throat. Staring down at the picture made you sick to your stomach, you recognised the young lad in the photograph, for he was no other than Scorpius Malfoy.

"The Malfoys!" you also stood up "I will never, ever marry into that family! Not after what they did!"

Y/D/N grunted "What are you going to do? Marry a Weasley? Work in a joke shop and be a laughing stock for a living?"

You stormed out of the living room, grabbing your trunk, your mother continued to stare into the flames, blocking out everything around her, smiling about what could have been.

Your dad followed you, grabbing the other handle on your trunk, pulling you to him.

"You aren't going anywhere!"

"I'm going anywhere but here!" you snarled back, your trunk opened and your clothes dropped onto the floor, letting go, you stormed up the stairs and sprinted to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

Frantically, you pulled out your phone, messaging the twins.

Y/N: They want me to marry into the Malfoy family! I can't fucking do it.

Fabian: Wait. Scorpius?

Gideon: You've got to be joking.

Y/N: No! I'm not! His family are coming to meet me in the next hour, what the fuck am I going to do?

Gideon: Puking Pastilles?

Y/N: No, I'm not risking leaving this bedroom if I'm not going outside.

Fabian: You've got our house key, use it genius.

Y/N: I will tonight, I just need to fake this shit, hopefully, I won't be married by morning, I'll run away to yours in the night.

Gideon: Be careful.

Fabian: Don't do anything we wouldn't do.

Y/N: Why do you think I'm running away? The Malfoys are the worst match!

Fred got used to being alone in the house after a week, blasting loud music, dancing like no one was watching, walking around in nothing but his boxers as the summer heat became unbearable. He felt on top of the world, he was alone, enjoying himself, in a huge house all to himself.

Managing to escape through the night as you had planned, you were taken by surprise when you arrived at George's manor to find the lights on and music blaring through the walls.

Maybe the twins came home early to surprise me.

Knocking on the door was pointless, even if you yelled the music was too loud to compete with. Pulling out your key, you unlocked the door and walked inside, setting your bags down on the table on the porch, hanging your coat up on the peg. Following the music you stopped in your tracks, in front of you was Fred, dancing in his boxers, sliding across the wooden floor in his socks, playing the air guitar. Your cheeks started to go red. If this was a prank, it was definitely well thought out - but deep down, you knew that Fabian and Gideon hadn't come home.

You had met Fred before, you always visited the joke shop with your friends and he had been at George's many times over Christmas, and Summer when he wasn't working. Each time you had seen him, he had always been on his own, no girlfriend, no ring on his finger.

Fred spins around with his eyes closed and opens them as he faces you, he jumps out of his skin and instantly covers his private parts with his hands as his eyes met yours, you grabbed the remote and rapidly paused the blaring music.

"W-What are you doing here?!" he asked, breathless and red.

You picked up one of his T-Shirts and threw it at him, leaning against the table, staring at your shoes as he got dressed "I could ask you the same thing." you replied shyly.

taglist: @amourtentiaa @alwaysnforeverfangirl @horrorxweasley @inglourious-imagines @reeophidian @sebby-staan @xmalfoyweasleyx @onlyfreds @lucymfer @livvysnaps @supermassiveblackhope @youralternantpersonality @xgoodbyexinnocencex @gustepasilyte 

[corpsedaydream]

neon banter

hi there! i’m leo and this is my first piece of Corpse Husband writing!

i’m sure just like all of u, i’ve really just felt so drawn to Corpse, there’s something so special about him and he really had me feeling ✨inspired✨

this is just a short, kinda cute one to find my groove w writing about a new muse and i had to put something up now that my tags are working and i can share to the tags, plus it’s 3:05am and i really gotta get to sleep

but i hope u enjoy!

if u have requests, feel free to send them here

🖤 tag list: @insaneangel18-blog @shameleswhorehourstm @unmotivatedwritings​​ @yoyoanaria 🖤

__________________________________________________

__________________________________________________

Have bowling places always been this fucking loud? You thought to yourself as you tried to seclude yourself from the friends you were with to avoid being apart of the next round. 

A second round had just finished and by now everyone was a few drinks down. They were currently entering their names to display on the screen, trying to think up silly nicknames for each other so it was a good time to find a quieter place while they were distracted.

It’s not that you didn’t want to be with your friends, it’s just that you hated bowling. You sucked at it, hard. You weren’t even sure how you could be that bad at something that seemed so simple. Normally you could laugh it off and play along because you loved spending time with your friends but you were starting to get a bit of a headache and just needed a moment of quiet.

You found yourself walking into the arcade area and you released a grateful sigh upon seeing that it was fairly empty.

The car games where you sit in a car seat and watch the screen were in the back left corner and somewhat secluded so you decided on heading over to them to sit down for that moment of quiet you were seeking.

You took in a deep breath and rested your head against the back of the seat and had your eyes closed, letting them have a rest from all the neon lighting. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to drive with your eyes closed.” You jumped and quickly opened your eyes again upon hearing the very deep voice coming from beside you. 

“You scared the shit out of me, dude.” You honestly admitted, you hadn’t noticed anyone was sitting in the car arcade game right beside the one you had accommodated. But that was probably because he was dressed in all black, and with most of himself covered up.

“You scared me driving with your eyes closed.” The stranger responded, half of his face was covered with the mask he had on but you assumed he was smiling due to the humorous tone that was mixing in his deep tone.

“My driving would scare you with my eyes open.” You decided to play along.

“I don’t get that scared easily.” 

“I failed my test over five times.” You avoided saying the actual amount, because it was completely embarrassing but admitting it was over five was enough to warrant a reaction.

“How many times?” He noticed.

“What?” You decided on playing like you didn’t understand what he was asking, maybe hoping he’d let it go.

“How many times, exactly?” He didn’t.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Oh, but I really do.”

“You think that’s information I go round just giving to strangers?”

“More than ten?”

“Less than ten, more than five.”

“I’ll accept that, for now.” He seemingly ended the topic but you kind of wished he hadn’t. Something about this stranger felt so warm and welcoming. His deep, gravelly voice was something you wanted to listen to more. Your peaceful moment had been disturbed by him, but you really didn’t mind at all.

“What’s your name?” You asked him.

“Hm,” He hesitated for a moment and you watched as his eyes darted away from your face before coming back and finding your eye contact again. “Corpse.”

“Did you just make that up right now? Are you worried I’m like a serial killer or something?” You couldn’t help but to laugh as you asked him this.

“What? No.” He laughed too and it was a beautiful sound. “Actually, now I kind of am.”

“That just really seemed like you made that up on the spot and I get it, stranger danger and all that.”

“No, no. Corpse is just something people have called me for a while now.”

“I’ll accept that, for now.” You repeated his phrase from before, while simultaneously trying to impersonate his deep voice which resulted in you needing to cough right afterwards. Something in which Corpse found humorous.

“Oh my god.” 

“Don’t laugh at me, that caused me serious pain. I need water.” Before you could make any type of movement to get up, Corpse was handing you a bottle of water.

“You can have mine, you need it more.” He was mocking you a little, but it was lighthearted.

“Thanks.” 

He watched as you unscrewed the cap and brought it to your lips, just as you had found him inviting, he too had found something in you that caught his attention. “What’s your name?” Corpse asked once you had finished having a drink.”

“I’m date Mike, nice to meet me.” You responded without thinking. Your reply was too quick for your brain to realise what you were saying and you quickly looked up to Corpse from the water bottle after putting the lid back on. “I’m sorry, I’m rewatching The Office right now and I just watched that episode before I came here today. I’m not date Mike, I’m (Y/N).”

“Now, you know I gotta ask. Are you worried I’m a serial killer? Because it seems like you just made that up.” He was repeating your own words now, teasing you.

“No!” You laughed, tilting your head back again until it hit the back of the seat. “I’m really (Y/N).”

“Well it’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

“You too, Corpse.”

[drmmyrs]

Remember Me (Becca x MC) Part 2

Hiii I’m back. Sorry again for the delay 😬I had such a hard time writing the ending so thank you so much @samanthadalton for all your help 😘Also, a big thanks to M anon for their suggestions and song request which I used some of.

tag list: @samanthadalton @crazzyplays @uselesslesbianfr @baexpoppy @alexroyard @alexlabhont @veenast @noixngn @sillyandcutewizardstuffs @doey-eyes8 @itszdavenport (If you wanna be added or removed or just prefer a certain ship just let me know ❤️)

Read Part 1

Pairing: Becca x MC (Emily)

Warnings: some swearing

Word Count: 2289

It's been an hour since Emily last came into my room to remind me of my doctor's appointment. And it's been about thirty minutes since I've been ready to go, physically at least. Naturally, I tried to get Chris to come with me instead because he's my boyfriend, right? Ughh fine, ex-boyfriend. But can you blame me, though? How am I suppose to move on when I literally have no memory of some sort of breakup or closure? I stare at the dull beige-colored ceiling, a view which has me panicking in the mornings right after I wake up, before I remember that I don't live at the sorority house anymore. I then close my eyes and get comfort in the memories I have left, my only anchor on the reality I knew, away from this freakish place with the people I don't even give a shit about.

After a couple more minutes, I begrudgingly get up with a groan and trudge downstairs, finding Emily waiting on the couch. She smiles upon seeing me, but I don't return the gesture, being genuinely annoyed at the prospect of having to spend an incessant amount of time with her. So instead, I walk past her towards the door, my heels clattering on the wooden surface. Emily then follows behind me from a distance, careful not to invade my space. Once outside, I walk straight towards the passenger door of Emily's junk of a car, grabbing the handle as I glare at Emily impatiently, waiting for her to unlock it. As soon as unlocked, I sink into the seat, slamming the door close harder than I intended. Emily, though, takes a second before going in, eyeing the seat suspiciously as if it might shatter anytime. Once seated, she places her hand on the gear stick, slightly trembling. And then it dawns on me, I may have forgotten about the accident, but it's probably still fresh from her memory, terrorizing her at every reminder. All this time, I've been complaining about how unfair everything is for me, not once considering how it may have affected her.

"Who was driving?" I ask. It may not be the best thing to talk about right now, but I have to know.

I see Emily flinch at the question, and before she even opens her mouth, I know. She looks out the windshield, her voice cracking when she replies, "I was."

I nod. My mom told me it was a drunk driver running a red light that hit us, so I don't blame her at all, not anymore.

"Is it–" The words come out sharp, so I stop and soften my voice. "Is it the first time you drove since?"

Emily doesn't reply immediately; instead, she shifts the gear and steps on the gas pedal as we begin to make our way towards the hospital. She grips the steering wheel tightly, anxiously looking at the road, her eyes obsessively sweeping for any oncoming traffic at every intersection.

"No. No it's not but..." Emily trails off, her knuckles turning white as her grip on the steering wheel tightens.

But it's her first time to drive with me in the car. I turn my head to look out the window, knowing full well I can't ease her fears. How can I when I'm the living reminder of everything she lost?

---------

I immediately regret my outfit choice as soon as we get into the waiting room, the frigid temperature biting at my skin, sending sharp pains like that of a needle across my exposed skin. I try to play it cool, but a shiver escapes my body, desperate for any source of heat. A few seconds later, a jacket appears in front of me, held by Emily who is wearing an annoyingly cute little smile on her face. I mumble thanks and take the jacket, placing it over my shoulders, smelling the scent of lavender as I bask in the comfort of heat.

I take out my phone and browse my socials, catching up on all the events I missed–or forgotten–while ignoring the get well soon messages from both people I know and don't know that have been piling up ever since the accident. A few minutes later, the doctor calls my name, and as I stand up, Emily does as well but then sits back down almost immediately, clearly unsure if her company is welcome.

I roll my eyes. "Come on."

---------

After a useless consultation–apparently, they can't do much to help me regain my memories–Emily suggests we stop by an ice cream parlor not far from here. I assent, but only because I need the comfort of a sugary snack right now, and it's been ages since I had one, or at least I think so.

We reach a store I don't recognize, replacing an office space that, while I never paid attention to before, was a pleasant fixture in my reality, not this... eyesore. I shake my head; I can't keep living in the past. I follow Emily into the store, reminding myself that this is my reality now.

Inside, the floor is patterned with alternating pink and black tiles, and the walls are coated with somewhat fresh pink paint adorned with decors that scream ice cream as if one might stumble into the shop looking for lunch or something.

"Welcome t–ah Emily and Becca! I haven't seen you girls in a while."

I turn around to see a guy, probably in his mid-twenties– smiling at us like...  I shoot Emily a side-eye. She, of course, fails to mention that the guy working here is buddy-buddy with me. So, is this the kind of couple we were? Those who frequent an ice cream parlor enough to be on a first-name basis with the ice cream guy? I internally groan in disgust at the thought.

"–Becca." I'm pulled out of my thoughts when I hear my name. Emily and the ice cream guy are looking at me expectantly.

"Sorry I didn't hear," I mumble.

"You'll be having strawberry, your usual, correct?" says the guy with a wide smile.

I do want strawberry, but I shake my head and say, "Vanilla," just to spite him, annoyed how some stranger knows my favorite ice cream flavor.

"Ooh, trying something new today, are we? One rocky road and vanilla coming right up," he announces in an annoyingly high pitch voice. I struggle not to roll my eyes.

"Where's the bathroom?" I ask, which is met by a look of confusion followed by a laugh.

"You know wh–" 

Emily quickly interjects, "The bathroom's there, Becca," pointing at a door at the back of the store.

I excuse myself and go to the bathroom, heading straight towards the mirror. I stare at my reflection, nitpicking every tiny detail that has changed throughout the years, changes I don't recognize at all. A tear rolls down my cheek, but I quickly wipe it away. I'm Rebecca fucking Davenport; I don't cry. I grip the sink tightly, overcome with a new resolution. I know who I am; they don't, convincing myself more than anyone else.

Once finishing up in the bathroom, I head back outside, noticing a different aura in the room. Emily is holding our orders with an apologetic look while the ice cream guy regards me with pity, something I've grown used to in the past few weeks. I take my ice cream from Emily, not meeting her gaze, and walk out of the store, striding ahead of her towards the car, not once looking back.

--------

On the ride home, silence weighs heavily between us as Emily bites at her lower lip, either contemplating what to say or waiting for me to go off on her. After an awkward amount of time, Emily finally breaks the silence.

"I'm sorry I–"

"Forget about it," I cut her off, too exhausted to engage with her. I think about the previous encounter, wondering if that would be my norm. Unfamiliar people coming up to me, sharing inside jokes and anecdotes while I stare blankly at them, wondering if I should explain my situation or just ignore them, being the bitch I know I am. I stare out the window, seeing all the changes in the city, musing about the memories I may have had alongside them, memories that I may or may not recover. It's as if an impostor had been living my life for the past two years, and now I'm forced to follow in their footsteps. It's obvious I had changed a lot during those years, my previous enemies becoming my closest friends, my greatest rival supposedly becoming the love of my life. Was she the love of my life? Was I happy with Emily?

It's already dark outside when we arrive home. I notice a few cars parked down the road, something unusual considering this is the only house for at least a couple of blocks. What do I know, though, it's not like I remember much about this place. I turn my attention back to the house; the lights inside are turned off, leaving a lone street lamp and the car's headlights as the primary sources of light, accentuating the jagged grey bricks of the house, almost giving an appearance of something sinister. This is ridiculous; I chide myself for being scared of a stupid house. 

Emily walks ahead towards the door while I follow a few steps behind. As soon as I walk inside, the light turns on, and I'm greeted by a chorus of surprise echoing throughout the house, coming from people whom I only recognize half of. I stare at them blankly, unimpressed but just mostly confused. My mother walks over to me and gives me a big hug.

"Happy birthday, sweetie."

Birthday? I inconspicuously look at my phone. Huh. I could've sworn I've seen the date today at least a few times. A few moments later, Emily steps forward with a cake in her hands.

"Happy birthday babe," she says, immediately followed by a look of horror. "Becca. Sorry."

Of course Emily had planned this. It doesn't really matter if I wanted to have a stupid party. She had to go ahead and decide for me.

"Go ahead and blow out the candles," my mom urges.

I blow out the candles, faking a smile for my mom. As much as I want to storm into my room, I'm not about to break my mom's heart by causing some unnecessary drama.

--------

Just a few moments into the party, and I'm already exhausted–people lining up to greet me, asking how I've been doing since the accident. I realize that most people here don't know about my condition, which means I have had to engage in quite a few conversations about the things I've supposedly been doing for the past few years, things I have no recollection of, to which I gave vague answers to avoid having to explain everything. 

I down my fourth glass of virgin cuba libre, eyeing the display of alcohol with contempt, resentful that I can’t drink because of the medicine I took earlier, when Zack drags me across the room to play some truth or dare with a bunch of people, some of whom I don't recognize. Thankfully, if there was one thing the sorority has taught me, it's that you don't have to know someone to ask the right questions or expertly avoid the common ones. That is of course until someone asks you the most unexpected question.

"Do you have a date for the wedding yet?"

I stare at them blankly, fumbling for words. Wedding? 

"I–I–"

But before I can make up an answer, Kaitlyn arrives with Emily in tow, and that's when I notice it, the ring on Emily's finger. I gasp for breath, feeling like the air is taken out of my lungs. And I almost don't notice it when Kaitlyn takes out her guitar and starts singing, joined by the others.

When all the tears are rolling down your face And it feels like yours was the only heart to break When you come back home and all the lights are out And you're getting used to no one else being around

Oh, oh, I'll be there

I look at the unfamiliar faces, singing their hearts out, gazing at me fondly. I then turn my gaze to Emily's ring finger, and sitting on it is a small but glistening diamond and part of me chastises myself for not noticing earlier. I feel the entire room’s eyes on me and suddenly, it becomes too much for me to withstand. I stand up, scrabbling to go to my room, footsteps following behind me. Once I got on the stairs, Emily shouts my name from behind, and I stop at the sound of her voice, turning around.

"We were engaged? Why didn't you tell me?" My voice comes out harsher than expected and it seems to take Emily by surprise too because she just stands there motionless, speechless. “Marriage is a big thing Emily, that’s not something you can just conveniently not tell me.” I let out a frustrated groan, momentarily letting the anger wash all over me before I’m left with a bitter feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I’m sick of having random people tell me things about my life which I can’t even remember when my own fianc–” I stop, not even being able to say the word, shaking my head as the agony brought by my predicament proves to be too much. “I can’t do this. I'm sorry," I croak before running towards my room, slamming the door behind me. I then curl myself in bed as the tears fall freely.

[luxwritesfanfic]

Definitely Not Your Color

In true Sherlock fashion, he shows you exactly why green isn’t his color. Or, the one where reader can read auras and Sherlock is going through it at the sight of her new friend. AU!Bucky makes an appearance because I can’t live without him. Enjoy!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You were stood off to the side of the crime scene recounting your conversation with the last witness of the night. There had been yet another murder and Lestrade had requested Sherlock’s help for what seemed to be a serial killer in the making. Two murders in less than a week and Sherlock was thrilled and it was easy to tell. An array of yellows and subtle oranges surrounded him, engulfed him, as he explained how vacant Scotland Yard truly could be and how quickly he had figured out the killer’s M.O. He shined like the sun, and you swore you saw tendrils of sunlight shoot off of his fingers as he analyzed every aspect of the scene before him. All confidence, he paraded around the crime scene in a way you knew so well, pointing out things that even after working with him for months that you wouldn’t of picked up on. He was happy to be working again, to be playing, no, winning the game once more. 

You were thankful no one else saw his colors like you did. Because as sure as you were that he was what they meant when they said, “let there be light!”, you were sure that others would gravitate towards him even more until it got to a point that there was so much in between the two of you that you would only be able to see his shine from between the cracks of other people.

Pulling you out of your thoughts of Sherlock and things that you couldn’t control, you turned your head at the sound of someone’s throat clearing.

“He’s seriously brilliant.” An officer who you hadn’t recognized before stood behind you, holding his cap in his hands and drumming his fingers along the rim. He looked past you to where Sherlock and John were, a laugh slipped out from under his breath. “Makes it look so easy.”

Your lips twitched at the statement, a warmth you knew too well for your liking spreading around you. If anyone else could see you, really see you, you’d surely be figured out. Sherlock Holmes was a great man, you were sure of it. He was as intelligent as they came and as handsome as the devil, and sure— sometimes he could be rude, and maybe a little ignorant, and sometimes you really wanted to slap the smirk off of his face when playing Cluedo (Because, Sherlock, it can’t be the victim!) but you wouldn’t change him. 

They told you not to stare at the sun but you couldn’t help it. You needed to see what was really there because you refused to believe that a man who couldn’t feel a thing made the world look that vivid. You were the moth and he was the flame and if that meant dying a painful death just to bask in everything that he was, so be it. Evidently, there were worse ways to die.

Stealing one last glance like you couldn’t help yourself, you shoved your notebook and pen in your purse and made your way back to your conversation.

“He really is. You’re new, right? Lestrade mentioned he had some new guys joining the force. Can’t say you didn’t have an interesting first week.” You wanted to lighten the mood as much as you could because you knew this wasn’t an easy crime to see. You still couldn’t look at the body too long yourself without feeling the black sit heavy in your stomach.

“Don’t worry ma’am, I can handle it.” As if he read your mind, he gave you a warm smile and nodded. “My father, he, uh, he was an officer as well. Started me with the bad stuff early. Said it would give me a little more character and a lot more advantage. There’s not too much that can scare me away, I don’t think.”

You returned his smile. He was a cool blue, and it matched his eyes perfectly. It looked good on him, you decided. “Good. London needs all the help that we can get. Oh- I’m Y/N, by the way! I work with Sherlock and John sometimes. I’m not a genius or a doctor but I can take damn good notes.” And at that you both laughed, as he reassured you that the boys would have nothing to study from if it wasn’t for you. In turn it made you laugh even harder when you realized he hadn’t got the chance to see Sherlock visit his Mind Palace yet, where everything you could offer him he already had.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m James, but I hardly ever use my government if I don’t have to. Please, call me Bucky.” He reached his hand out to you and shook yours, that boyish smile never leaving his lips. From behind you, you could tell subconsciously that it had gotten significantly darker. Like a light had went out. You didn’t think enough of it to turn around and investigate it.

---

You found it was easy to talk to Bucky and you had more things in common than you could have expected. He was polite and seemed to have seriously believed that you were an integral part of the team that he needed to get to know. You appreciated his kindness and how friendly he was, and it seemed like more than anything he was grateful you were giving him a chance to belong. You couldn’t figure out why.

It just so happens that from the angle you were looking, you saw Sherlock’s shoes before you saw his face. It looked like moss had grown through the concrete and saturated him so thoroughly that you thought he wouldn’t soon be able to move. It made you uneasy how sickly the green made him look. You had never seen this color on him before.

“If I knew all you were going to do was stand around and disregard everything I say, I would have brought Molly instead. She listens. Intently.” Sherlock spat and cut his eyes at you before looking to Bucky and giving him a once over before digging in. 

“Generally, they say to try again and again if you fail. I would think that wouldn’t apply to something like the police academy. Third, no... fourth times the charm as they say?” The green fog spilled out of Sherlock’s mouth and continued to cover him, wrapping so tightly around his body that you thought he might have trouble breathing. Even though you were standing a few good feet away from him, you could feel how heavy the fog had made you, and you worried for Sherlock as it encompassed him. You almost made to reach for him because you were afraid you’d lose him under all the smoke.  

“You’re a favored drop out who still lives with his mother, no, father. That’s where the drinking problem comes from I assume? One failed relationship too many and now suddenly your calling is keeping the streets clean of the people you used to run them with. Now, I know Lestrade has horrible taste when it comes to putting together a team but tell me, how did he get so lucky as to stumble across you? It can’t be the... no wait, it is because of-“

“Sherlock!” You say exasperatedly, looking at him like he’s he’s got three heads when you can’t even see the one he’s got as it is. He is solid and dark and lost in this feeling that you can’t name and he’s not him. Well, he is him, but weighed down so much by whatever he’s trying to carry through that you can’t imagine he’s acting this hateful for no reason. You refuse to believe it.

Bucky sighed and somehow still managed to twitch his lips upwards, a ghost of the grin he wore before. “Well, Mr. Holmes, you are what they say you are. Brilliant for sure. Hell, you haven’t even spoken a word to me prior and you know my life.” You were shocked to see Bucky’s reaction, most people would of blacked out on Sherlock for an outburst like that and this one definitely warranted it. “You’re right, about all of those things. I guess I’m just trying to play the best game I can with the hand I was dealt. I’m not one for feeling sorry for myself.” He straightened up and fastened his cap back on as he caught eyes with Lestrade and returned a knowing nod. 

Turning to you, Bucky grinned as if it never phased him, like he had grown used to being talked down on. The blue never left him and that made you happy. You didn’t want him to feel bad.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I look forward to speaking with you again. Mr. Holmes.” With that, he bid you both a good night and headed towards his team.

“Sherlock,” you murmured when you turned back to face him. The fog was so dark that you couldn’t make out his features anymore. You felt the fear creeping up your neck while you were trying to figure out what was so wrong with him. “What’s wrong with you? I figured you’d be happy that you practically solved the case...?” 

You saw it, he had been happy. And then you remembered his earlier comment about Molly. Maybe he wished she was here instead to celebrate his win with him.

“Listen... if this is about Molly, you know you can always ask her to tag along instead. I don’t want you to feel... obligated to invite me. She’s probably more useful in a situation like this anyway.” 

You felt yourself internally deflate as you spoke, but you were able to make out Sherlock’s face once more under the city lights. The green began to thin out. He must’ve been relieved at your confession, you thought.

Sherlock visibly tensed for a second before quickly masking it under an air of nonchalance.

“I could care less about Molly or what she’s good for. All I care about is the work and that it gets done. You know that.”

You watched as time passed and you could start seeing more of him. You realized you’d been holding your breath for some time waiting for the green to dissipate and set your detective free. Sherlock was back with you, and whatever feeling tried to take him away from you was lost now. That’s all that mattered.

And, of course, because there were still pressing matters to finish attending to, your moment with Sherlock didn’t last long. You swore something had changed within him. Something you couldn’t name just yet.

You weren’t totally quite convinced that whatever had happened between you two back there wasn’t about Molly, or some strange feeling that Sherlock was having that he’d surely never talk about. Even still you continued to follow after him wherever he asked you to go, as he still always asked you to go. 

And if he happened to stand a little closer to you the next time you worked alongside Scotland Yard, you were none the wiser.

[stylesberries]

Masterlist

Last Updated: 07/07/21

Thank you guys so much for all the love that you’re giving my writings. It makes me so happy to know that they’re people who enjoy reading things I write. I will be definitely adding to this masterlist, so this is not all you’ll get from me ;) - Hamida

♥ - indicates fluff

✪ - indicates smut

☹ - indicates angst

Bundle Of Love ♥

Harry reflecting upon his love for Y/N.

Despite the fact that you’ve only been dating for a couple of months, he still knew you better than he knew himself. Every stir and every little sound you made in your sleep. To everyone before him they were just stirs and sounds, but for him they had a meaning. He never lets them slip without noticing. He watches your every move carefully to make sure that he makes you the happiest he possibly can and even if that is the case, he still does everything possible to make sure you’re even happier.

Call Me H ✪ ♥

You both walk straight to Harry’s hotel room because you can’t keep hands off of each other anymore. (Is a logical continuation to Stay With Me, but can be read separately.)

“You’re very sweet, Harry. There is just one problem.”

Your eyes become a bottomless well and Harry feels himself drowning in its waters. The curiosity grows in him when he hears mystery in the way the words leave your mouth.

“What problem?” He whispers innocently, his eyes darting at you.

“I really want to fuck you.”

City Lights ♥

Harry asks you a very important question as you drive through the streets of Rome.

The hand wrapped around your side, carefully going in circles, the repeating motions slowly soothing your anxiety.

Harry lowered his head and his lips touched the top of your ears. The warm breath created vibrations against your skin and sent a charge of electricity through your body.

I really love you.

Daddy ✪

Harry wins a Grammy. You weren’t able to be there. Or were you?

“Aren’t you coming in?” Harry asked Jeff as he exited the car, his hand wrapped under his new Grammy.

“I’m not. Enjoy the night, man. You deserve it.” Jeff spoke weirdly as he closed the door behind Harry and waved at him with a suspicious smile on his face.

“Enjoy my night? Don’t you want to come in and drink with me a bit befo-” Harry spoke as he watched the car with Jeff in it drive off.

Egocentric ♥ ☹

Memories of a fight with Harry overflow you, as you wander around the house and end up playing Fine Line on vinyl.

As the first few seconds of the song echoed through the room, I found myself being dragged into a different atmosphere. The one my mental state wouldn’t let me go in without crying.

All of the insecurities and doubts, that I have been overflown with, came over me and dragged me down with them.

Fireflies ♥

Harry has been acting weird for a couple of weeks, but when y/n finally finds out the truth, it’s far from what she assumed.

“Harry, what’s behind your back?” You asked straightforwardly.

He looked uncomfortable and seemed to have been taken aback by your question.

“It’s um-” He brought his hands forward. They held a black folder visibly full of papers. “It’s m’folder with song ideas.” He seemed unsure of the statement himself, but you put the blame on the fact, that he was left dumbfounded by your actions. What was that about though?

Flower Field ♥

Harry accidentally breaks his favorite guitar, which makes it an obvious choice of a present for his upcoming birthday.

“Is it small enough for me to carry it around?” Harry tried his best to guess what exactly you were getting him. He’d been like this since the early morning when you wouldn’t tell him what you’ve gotten for him.

“It’s not small, but you can carry it around.” It was the first question, for which your answer wasn’t exactly a “no”, so Harry smiled, thinking he’s finally onto something. The party took place in a closed down restaurant that you all would go to once in a while. There weren’t many guests. Just the closest friends. “Knowing Harry, it’s probably hundreds of people.” You thought.

Full Of You ✪

It’s your birthday and Harry has an idea of a birthday present.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Harry’s hold tightening around your body and his face snuggling into the crook of your neck. You whined, fighting for a couple more well-earned minutes of sleep.

“Nopies, bunny. Don’t whine at me. We have a long day ahead of us.” Harry excitedly informs you and lets his hands snake over your sides. Your boyfriend moves his mouth over to your ear and whispers this time. “It’s my love’s birthday today.”

Gucci Jumpsuit ♥

Harry pampering Y/N despite her attempts to stop him.

“They have the heels you love. The black ones, you know? They have those in pastel colours. Wouldn’t y’love that?”

“Harr-” I tried to say something in between his Ted Talk on why exactly I have to try those shoes he is talking about.

“And we could look for jeans f’you. You wanted wide leg jeans, remember?” He continued, without pausing even for a second.

Heat ✪

Your boi’s too vanilla for your liking. He refuted that tho.

As he filled you, even more tears started flowing. Your vision turned blurry and your head felt light. All you could feel was the stretch you craved so badly.

“Daddy, please fuck me.” Words leaving your mouth without a single thought in your head. You didn’t care that you’ve never got to ask him if he was actually into such things before, acting purely on instinct. All you wanted was to be filled. All you needed was the sensation of being penetrated by the man you loved.

Love On Tour ♥ ✪

Your parents are coming to meet him but you chose to keep it a secret.

“He deserves to know.” You thought. He was going to meet them today anyways. “He won’t have time to get too nervous, right?” You kept debating on whether or not you should tell him the truth.

Your brows furrowed and your lips were pressed tight together. Harry took a look down at you, and his brows creased as well.

My Princess ✪

You tag along with Harry to his Vogue shoot. The dress is definitely a turn on.

“Ah, please,” Harry whined, letting you wrap your arm around his waist holding him from running away from your wet tongue.

“Please what, baby?” You teased him further, running your nails against the wet trace along his spine.

“Please, touch me.” He begged, pushing his back against your chest in hopes that your arm would move a little lower and touch his crotch even though he knew how much you hated it when he wasn’t patient.

Rainbow Cardigan ♥ ✪

Harry loses his favorite cardigan. You learn how to knit. (Based on the JW Anderson cardigan knitting trend.)

“I cannot lose it. I can’t. What if it’s lost forever? How could I let it out of my sight?” The sight of him so genuinely saddened by the situation made you let out a sigh. You were full of compassion and understanding, trying to remember the last time you saw the poor cardigan. Failing to do so, you turned to your crushed boyfriend and tried to get information out of him.

Right Choice ✪

Harry has a moustache now and you want to get it sticky.

“I’m all for it, so it’s up to you.” Harry nodded and started applying the shaving cream onto his cheeks.

“Just know that you have to eat me out whenever you’re done here because I’m dripping.”

Shattered Glass ☹

You feel overwhelmed by intrusive thoughts and memories of traumatic events. Glass is shattered.

“Hm?” You let your eyes fall on his gentle and almost all-knowing expression.

“I said I know what you’re doing. You’re letting things get to you. I know you can’t stop the flow of thoughts but at least let me know what’s bothering you so I can try to help.” He spoke softly and chose every next word with care as he knew that if he picked the wrong words you would close off even more.

Stay With Me ♥

You meet Harry and fall in love to the art and architecture of Rome.

“You looked very passionate and I would love it if we could sit and discuss it maybe? I know it sounds weird coming from a stranger-” He paused.

“You bet, crazy man.” You thought to yourself and giggled softly, realizing that the possibility that this ball of nerves is a human trafficker is close to zero.

Vegan Cupcakes ☹

You and Harry have been quarantined together and he needs space.

Spending most of the spring together didn’t feel as suffocating for Harry as summer did. Your classes were over and you didn’t take a summer semester, so your time fully revolved around him. Which he liked.

In the beginning.

Until you clung on him like a koala for days and made him cuddle you all the time, which he enjoyed a lot until it became a routine. Harry couldn’t even tell you how he felt because it would hurt your feelings, so he didn’t say anything at all, keeping it all to himself.

Wooden Floor ☹ ♥

Reuniting with Harry after being apart during the quarantine made you realize something.

When I met Harry, and we started dating, I promised myself to give him space and not suffocate him with my love, for I was scared, that he would leave me like everyone before him did.

I had never been loved so much. I had never experienced what I gave people myself. The endless love and loyalty. Harry gave me his all, and I started feeling bad for not showing all of the love I had for him, and yet I still feared losing him because of my obsessive nature.

I sat at the kitchen table and scrolled through our texts with Harry.

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