#I’ve made it twice already and it’s a great pattern

[oh-saints]

sweetest devotion (pt. 5)

everything was sort of a wake-up call for mason mount and he was now questioning every of his decision he'd made, he makes, and he'll make.

playboy!mason x princess!OC

tw: as mentioned in the masterlist only, but particularly extramarital affair to a marriage of convenience and mentions of violence in this chapter

wc: 2.7k

note: I'M FINALLY BACK! and as i’ve promised previously, here’s some happ(ier) updates for you guys! indented & italics part were flashback. but as usual, i happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet.

tags: @pingyu-in-wonderland @ironmaiden1313 @myreveriie @808heartz <3 (lmk if you wanna be added!)

<<part 4 - part 6>> sweetest devotion masterlist here

as soon as elena stepped an inch outside of his property, mason didn’t think twice to slam the door shut and ran back inside to serena’s aide.

while she was well known for being dubbed calm beauty—in line with her majestic name inspired by the word serene—mason had never wanted someone to be boisterous it could hurt his ears. anything, really, other than the sight of serena, helplessly so, curled over to a foetal position in order to protect their baby.

their baby.

ironic how it was a life they created together yet serena was the only one protecting them and mason was the one who, despite the indirectness, had a hand in this entire ordeal. if it wasn’t because of mason, serena wouldn’t be lying on the floor, holding her bulging stomach whilst hiding her held-back grunts behind her gritted teeth.

this whole situation with his little family wasn’t the most ideal scenario but mason was anything but a murderer. his parents raised him better than that and yet, mason could easily have bloods in his hands just now.

mason could taste bile on the tip of his tongue, so bitter at the reality that—no matter however put—mason was the one who put two lives in danger tonight. fucking hell, mason didn’t even know the gender of his own flesh and blood yet.

“serena,” mason kneeled beside serena, trying to lift her up from the floor so he could get her some help in the speed of light. “serena, talk to me. how do you feel?”

mason’s question was only met by another pained grunt, followed by an erratic breathing pattern. he could sense serena was trying to control her breaths in between her cry for help.

“i need you to hang in there, okay?” mason had never been so lucky he was a footballer, accustomed by now to carry weights while running on a daily training basis, as he was reaching the door of his Lamborghini with her in his arms. “on scale 1 to 10, where are you?”

but as soon as the Chelsea star placed her down the passenger seat, serena cried out an eerily screeching shriek while her hands gripped the back of his neck on a death lock. mason’s ears were ringing in alert, his eyes looked everywhere for anything that could’ve possibly caused worse pain for serena.

as he looked down, he realised it could be anything because blood was already smeared everywhere—the leather seat, the dashboard, the sideboard, the floor of his car, the concrete floor of his garage… leading all the way back up to the house.

it was red all over and he’d never feared for having painted the town red.

it was red all over and he’d never feared for anything else than now.

“god, please,” serena wailed, tears running down her eyes now/ “please, make them stop.”

“I need you to hang in there, you got me?” mason’s hands were as fast as his feet on the pitch now, buckling her up while trying to soothe the back of her hand, the one cradling the protruding belly, in hope to reduce her stress. “you’ve been doing great so far, serena…”

the last line was honestly the red thread serena tried to hang her last bits of sanity left. because mason was right—she’d been doing well so far, despite all odds, and if she failed now, she’d only fail her only friend in this lifetime; her own baby. she had to make it.

serena’s deathly grip on mason’s free hand—as the other was holding the steering wheel—was the only thing that kicked off mason’s feet to push the pedal till the speedometer showed he’d breached the speeding limit. fuck repercussions, this was life and death.

the crispy screeching sound from his wild driving—drifting would be a better word choice, now that he’d thought about it—surprised the on-call doctors and hospital staffs. some immediately threw away their coffee and reached mason’s aide before he even called for help, and he was grateful for that because serena’s wailing certainly messed up his logical thinking at this point.

“what happened, sir?”

“she—”

mason didn’t know where to start in all honesty. and it was funny, the confusion, because he wanted to tell everything so serena could get the best treatment possible but mason’s mouth couldn’t seem to summon the words. why was that?

was it because he was afraid of people’s judgement towards her? towards them? towards their so-called arrangement? was it because he didn’t want people to know what he’d done to her? was it because he was ashamed that he was ultimately the source of her on-going pain? was it because he was afraid people would jail him for becoming a monster he’d never intended himself to be?

there’s also murderer who never intends to kill their victim in the first place, his father used to say whenever he gave lame excuses for not meaning things he said.

mason wanted to throw up. he truly had bloods in his hands. literally and figuratively.

how could he possibly be a father in this state?

“mr. mount,” someone tapped him by the shoulder, and only then did he realise they’d rolled away serena to another room. “I need you to tell me what happened to your wife.”

his wife. his fully, legally-wedded wife.

good god, he needed to puke.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“mr. mount,”

hours later, a nurse finally came by to reach him, who’d been sitting and staring at the white walls lifelessly for the past hour, waiting for any news from anyone that had taken serena into their custody and care. now that he was called, mason stood up immediately, the pathetic excuse of plastic chair squeaked at the sudden movement.

“how’s my wife?”

for someone who proudly claimed he doesn’t have a wife and only a mother to his child—to ben chilwell’s face, no less—mason’s tongue rolled the word perfectly. like it wasn’t his first time calling serena his wife in public. like he didn’t even have to practice them. like it was natural for him. like it was supposed to be.

“they’re waking her up right now, and the baby’s doing fine,” the nurse smiled and mason let out a bated breath he didn’t know he was holding. “you can see her in 15 minutes.”

but mason didn’t want 15 minutes. mason wanted to be the first person to see it himself that serena was okay, that their baby was okay, that they both were okay, and that he didn’t hurt either of them.

the forward player let out a relieved sigh when he reached the assigned room for serena, his eyes zeroed on the sight of the mother lying peacefully now. gone was the agony from her face, despite the whiteness casted all over the pretty face, and mason had never been more in peace than knowing that their baby was also doing okay.

at least for now.

the nurse checked up on them every now and then, making sure the IV drip was working fine, her overall condition was okay. some even reminded mason that he could leave briefly to grab the both of them some garbs, an older nurse even went as far as scolding him to wash up and change his bloody pyjama top.

but how could he leave serena behind when he knew his crazy girlfriend could come in and assault serena once more behind his back?

right, elena. the big, fat elephant in the room. what to do with her?

in all honesty, mason was still in disbelief. he wanted to say elena was lying—possessed even—but he’d seen it with his own eyes. he truly had a hard time digesting the reality where elena—his sweet elena, unable to kill even a spider—was capable of hurting someone. a pregnant lady, moreover, until she bleed her life out. for him, nothing made sense regarding this whole situation.

or was that elena’s true self, one that mason didn’t know of?

“mason,” serena groaned, breaking his train of thoughts. her throat must’ve been very sore. “water.”

without further ado, mason immediately ran for a glass of water outside, as well as informing a nurse—the entire nurse station was perhaps a better fitted word—and anyone who knew their real arrangement would’ve been surprised to see how responsive mason was to every of serena’s whim that day. a fake husband shouldn’t demand fiercely for someone to attend his fake wife as soon as possible on a lazy Sunday morning.

“do you need anything else?” mason asked when he got back from fetching his delivery order, despite the nurses’ adamant complaint towards the fact he kept providing serena the patient with things she wasn’t suppose to be having yet. “a pillow or anything?”

“no, I’ve had enough,” serena smiled meekly. “thank you, mason.”

mason could feel his lips tugging upwards by a bit. “you’re wel—”

“didn’t I tell you,” mason and serena looked up to the dramatic door opening, only to find her personal doctor barging in, obviously pissed at the situation at hand. despite not glancing the married couple a glance, the doctor’s expression said it all. “that the next time you’re assaulted again I’m going to hunt your husband down?”

mason’s chest fell heavier than the biggest rock found on earth as soon as his brain could register the next time and assaulted again in the same sentence.

“oh there he is,” the doctor exclaimed, rather sarcastic this time around, as she looked up from the clipboard she was holding. “looks like I don’t need hunting after all.”

in another circumstances, mason would probably have a clap back to the doctor’s jab. but he didn’t have it in him, not today, not after learning too much all at once. he didn’t even think he had the right space of mind to even nod at whatever the doctor was saying, everything just went off before his eyes like a shinkansen train.

“I need you to be honest with me, serena,” mason didn’t waste another breath after the doctor—finally—walked away from the pristine white room. “the doctor said next time. when was the first time?”

serena’s breath was caught in her throat. she didn’t think mason would pay attention to such detail, for he was looking at distance during the whole time the doctor was berating her.

“serena, I need you to answer me.”

serena had been in countless intense court and constitutional hearings full of intimidating men greedy for more power and they’d never been able to tackle her face first—thus her given dib of calm beauty—but this… the way eternal fire was blazing in mason’s eyes, full of determination, hatred, vengeance all at once. it was certainly something she’d never wish to be on the receiving end.

mason turned her into a coward desperate in need of hiding. the papers back in her country would have a field day if they found out about this.

“serena,” mason clicked his tongue, obviously annoyed at her silence. “I’m not in a very patient mood.”

angry and bothered mason was certainly not a sight and side serena would want to see of him again. “remember the one week you thought I went missing?”

mason’s breath immediately got stuck on the airway.

it didn’t take a genius to figure out the main takeaway for her answer, and mason had never felt more useless and more similar to a piece of shit at that moment. how could he not, when he remembered precisely he once harboured an ill thought that serena wasn’t taking their arrangement seriously when she was the mastermind behind the plan?

but right now wasn’t the perfect time to dwell on his misjudgement. as much as serena’s words invoked a churning feeling inside of him, mason needed to know everything. “what did she do to you?”

serena was visibly gripping the blanket beneath her palms, playing with the fabric, while her lips were pursed in deep thought. oh, how much penny mason would pay for her thoughts in this moment… did she hate talking about this? if she did, which part of the incident did she particularly hate? or did she just want to forget about his? worse, was she contemplating not to tell him at all like the first time it happened?

“she always comes at wee hours, drunk and asking for you,” always? mason could feel his brows curling in confusion. “she always comes on times whenever you’re staying over the night and she always asks for you. I never let her in because you’re obviously sleeping so she gets physical about it.”

elena always comes whenever I left her for his own home? mason had to remind himself to breathe, gathering himself because there was no way he could continue this conversation without cooling his hand but that was the last thing he’d want to impose serena, especially not in her current recovering state.

“always?”

he needed her to confirm his hearing didn’t fail him, and serena averting his gaze was the most important answer mason needed.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

if mason was living in an animated world, his head would’ve been drawn with blowing smoke coming out of his crown and ears, as he drove down a familiar lane he wouldn’t wish to visit again.

the smoke was blowing harder and darker as his feet grazed down the asphalt towards the house he only stepped in a day ago—how time changes everything was real in every sense of the word. and everything serena had recounted back at the hospital didn’t help his mood at all. in fact, the more he recalled what she said, the more he gained the courage to burn the house if he could.

why and how could he even muster up that vile of intention, he didn't know. but he didn't want to know now, that would be a question for another day.

“serena, why don’t you talk to me about this?” mason whispered when serena had done elaborating each and every sequence of her hidden pain, partly in disbelief she’d been enduring such mistreatment for far too long, partly in outmost proud because she’d manage to recall each and every incident and willing to share them with him. his hands were untangling hers, one by one, releasing the gnawing grip she held over the frail blanket. in his defence, he was finding a distraction from the burning wrath boiling inside of him, slowly but surely, targeting at one particular person he didn’t want to see now but realised he needed to face. “why are you doing all these?” the footballer continued, gently—unlike his true nature inside of him. “you could’ve told me.” “it does not matter—” “it does to me,” serena had to hold back an audible gasp when she saw the raw emotions mason was displaying through the clear, brown orbs. “I want to know why you’d do such thing, endangering our baby.” while mason certainly didn’t want to be held accountable for another flash of pain in serena’s eyes, even for a split second, he needed to say the words. he needed to know her ulterior motive for doing such thing—a bit peculiar to see a princess, all in her glory and power, choosing to glower under pressure for a mere peasant, no? mason could practically see the gears shifting in her brain, probably contemplating to choose to reveal the truth or to spike another lie. “because one of us deserves a happy ending and by the looks of it, it’s never going to be me.”

replaying that particular scene fuelled his anger more. that was apparent by the way he knocked on the door like a police trying to catch a criminal red-handed—ironic enough for mason to laugh inwardly.

“mason!” surprise and elation were two emotions were clearly painted on his mistress’ face as she opened the door. “I didn’t expect—”

but mason had only one thing in his mind and it aligned with his initial intention. “don’t ever come near my wife and my child again, you got me?”

gone was the happiness in elena’s face, washed away and was now replaced by huge devastation. mason had never seen someone sporting that particular emotion so clearly. “but mase—”

“you got me?”

elena didn’t say anything and mason doubted she’d give any response any time soon—probably hoping to stall mason longer around her—so he decided to take matters to his own hands.

“don’t ever come near my family again or I’ll see you at court.”

next chapter contains:

“serena,” mason remembered thinking her last comment was so ridiculous that he had to grasp her by the shoulders, before grazing her now slightly bulging belly when she’d stayed in place. “you’re the most useful person in this household.”

[suchalonelysunflower]

Happier Than Ever (Stay) (A.I)

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x Fem!Singer! Reader

Summary: Based on the songs Happier than Ever by Billie Eilish and Stay by Post Malone. pt 2 of YOYOK. You go back to L.A and old friends open old wounds

Warnings: ANGST. This is very, very based on my own experience so this is my therapy session with you guys, sorry. Mentions of abuse, death, melancholia, psychological abuse, sad times, curse words. And grammar errors (I didn't even check twice, I'm sorry)

Word Count: 8.7 k

Author's Note: Hey, I'm back because I've missed you and I needed to get this fit out of my chest and survive it. Please, if you like it reblog it and comment, I love to know your thoughts. SUPPORT YOUR WRITERS THAT WE'RE GETTING FEWER AND FEWER HERE. Thank you. Hope you like it and happy reading

YOYOK / Masterlist

“Hey,… I know it’s been a long time since we last saw each other. I’ve heard the new album is coming along great, I’m so happy for you. You… You seem happy, or at least that’s what I can see on social media. I just- I heard you were coming back home- I mean, L.A for some time and well, I was wondering if we could catch up? If you don’t have a place to stay maybe you could crash into mine, like the old times. But you probably already… Anyhow, just call me or text me if you want to. I would really love to-”

When I'm away from you, I'm happier than ever Wish I could explain it better I wish it wasn't true

You love the feeling of being above the clouds. So close to the sky that you marveled on the technological advances that allowed you to feel free.

“Mom, look!” You thought “I’m in the clouds, so high above. Is this the feeling you were always dreaming about?”

A pang of nostalgia stabbed your heart, wishing your mom could be there with you experiencing all of this. But she was back at home, safe and sound on the surface. You knew it was for the best, that you could miss her a little bit more before your heart begged you to go and visit, even when your mind knew better than to believe those rose colored glasses of memory.

Was it the feeling of familiarity that made you feel safe even when it hurt? Maybe. Still, you wish you could’ve shown the world to her, give her everything on a silver platter and say “Mom, I did it. I can take care of you now”

What would she say?

You know she’s proud and she’s thankful for everything you’ve done for her. Still, it doesn’t feel like enough. Her eyes just won’t shine the same way; her smile would change; and the hug won’t ever feel as comforting as you’d expected. Your heart would tell you that she loves you, but your mind would always go back to those moments where you doubted it could ever be unconditional. So you’ve learned to miss her a little bit longer each time. Longer until you learn to miss her for the rest of your life.

It was not a foreign feeling, but it was one that you learned to feel and apply to your life. With time you’ve known the patterns, you’ve learned to grow and let go because that’s not the energy you need to spend even a bit of your mind over. You could miss the happy moments but know that they don’t fit anywhere with the person you want to be most. For your own good, you needed to learn how to let go.

The path was not easy - having to teach your heart not to bleed itself dry for the memory of past times. All the tears and the hurt, it was all part of healing what other people broke. So, the beauty of the cracks made you see just how worthy you are. Even if sometimes the water leaks and your mind starts a whirlwind of doubt, you would never come back to the person you used to be when the people that you loved most didn’t love you as you deserved.

Since then, you found yourself thriving. Not only in your career as a musician, with your lyrics that resonated with a lot of people and even made you gain a considerable number of new fans; but, also with yourself. You started loving more freely, more authentically. you saw yourself in a better light and wished people from your past could see just how much better you are without them. Not to be mean or to gloat, but for them to know that you didn’t cave, that life was meant to be lived and you will be doing just that even if they’re not part of it anymore. You wanted them to be happy for you, just as happy as you are for them.

Still, it scared you to go back to L.A, a place that has seen you at your worst and was the cause of your declining mental health. Even if it was for a short period of time, you knew you couldn’t stay there. Your place, the place that you belong was somewhere across the sea; far from anything and anyone that could make you feel like you once did. Like you didn’t matter.

Yet, no process of healing is ever complete until the cycle of hurt is broken. There were some things in your chest that begged for you to say them. Now it was time to let them out. And, if you were honest, a tiny bit of curiosity tied itself to that feeling. There were just too many unanswered questions still left hanging in thin air. The problem was that you didn’t know if you’d like the answers.

“Hey, Y/N” Your agent called your attention as she sat next to you “I need to confirm the last dates for your airbnb, are you sure you want to shorten your stay?”

You smiled softly at her “Yeah, I will be staying with some friends after”

“Okay, but are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. There’s a lot of things we need to catch up”

Every time we make-up, the truth is fading' Everybody's blind when the view's amazing'

It was weird to feel foreign in a place that helped shape you into the person you are now. But, then again, L.A never felt like home. Australia didn’t either, even though that’s what you’ve been saying in all the interviews when they asked what’d you miss more from home. “My family, the sweets, my friends, the sun…” But the sun did shine in other places; your family, you realized, never made any difference; the sweets could be ordered online; and your friends… Your friends changed. In the end, home never felt like home because you could create it everywhere you’d go.

There just places you’ve been. Home is something else, something you haven’t found yet.

Still, if you had to admit something is that the sun in L.A shines differently than in other places. It always seemed like you were entering a strange dimension, always playing “Something about the sunshine” on loop inside your mind.

You’ve been there a month and so. Enough time to have meetings and writing retreats that lasted a weekend. You’ve been to social required events, just as you do every couple of months to show your agency that you do know just how lucky you are. You’ve been to concerts, gave concerts, left concerts early to go and drink some wine curled up with a book in your bathtub in the hotel room. A small holiday mixed with a little bit of work, you’d say.

But you were leaving in a week, and there are still some things left on the schedule.

You sighed as you grabbed your bag from the sidewalk. The driver was kind enough to offer his assistance, but you would much rather face this by yourself first. During the drive you’ve imagined what it would feel like. Seeing him again. You wondered if your heart was beating faster than usual because of excitement or anxiety. In all honesty you didn’t know what to expect or even if you should be expecting something out of this experience.

Yet, you made up your mind to try and heal this. Get the answers that you longed for and be able to move on completely free. So, once the car drove away, you walked up to the door you’ve only seen in pictures before, and rang the bell.

For a moment you wondered if he remembered. Hoping that, in the end, his proposal of having you as his guest wasn’t just a passing comment he made. After all, you didn’t know when you’ll be back in the city or if your schedule would ever be as free in L.A as it is now. And even if he forgot and didn’t expect you, well, you can’t say you’d be surprised. Thank goodness for back-up plans.

“Coming!” You heard moments before the door opened, barely giving you time to prepare.

There he was. His hair was longer, somewhat a few tones lighter than the last time you saw him. His eyes took a couple of blinks to recognize you, changing the gleam in that hazel color you used to share so many secrets with. He smiled at you, the ghost of a laugh hidden in the dimples you used to poke at lunchtime, claiming that it wasn’t fair that he got to be the pretty one of the two of you. And for a moment, the man standing in front of you was the same kid you met all those years back, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hey!” Ashton sang with a laugh, stepping closer into your space and hugging you with one arm as the other took your bag out of your hands “I’m so glad to see you! It’s been so long”

“Yeah,” You softly said, pulling back just enough to analyze his face “Thanks for the invite, Ash”

“Of course! I know you’re not a big fan of hotels anyway and, you know, it’s good to have you back. You’re always welcome to stay here when you’re in town”

He opened his arm toward the door and invited you in. You tried not to think about the fact that this was the first time you stepped foot into his house ever since he moved to L.A. He invited you before when you first moved, but schedules were complicated back then and after a while he stopped offering.

It was hard to think that once you used to live at his house back in Australia. Always trying to escape whatever nonsense was happening over at yours. At some point, you lost count how many times you ended up napping on his bed while he played some dumb internet game on his computer or watched a really dumb movie because “You don’t understand, Y/N, Seth Rogen is a genius” And you didn’t understand because even then you thought Seth Rogen was a creep, but it didn’t matter. You were in your safe space. You were with him. And he probably didn’t even know just how much that meant to you.

Now as you look around, you couldn’t help but search for that same feeling. A sign telling you it’ll be okay.

“Sorry, I know the living room is a little messy”

You turned to watch him look around the place with a slight blush on his cheeks. You smiled kindly at him.

“It’s okay, I’m not one to talk either” You turned back to the room “This place… suits you. It’s a lot like I imagined. Very artsy, very you”

He looked at you confused for a while “Yeah, I haven’t changed it much since -” He caught himself before he could continue and tried to cover his realization with a cough “No, yeah. Thanks! Come, your room is over here”

Once he settled your bag on the bed you went and sat next to it. Silence falling over the two of you as he stood awkwardly at the door.

“I hope everything is-”

“Everything is lovely, Ash” You smiled “Thank you”

He nodded and looked away. Hands hid inside of his pockets as he thought of the right thing to say. But nothing seemed to come to mind.

Suddenly, you felt out of place. Incredibly conscious that maybe you were an inconvenience now that you were there. Maybe, after all, he didn't want you there. You wanted to take this chance to meet him and talk, knowing you couldn’t just pretend that the years of separation and the strangeness you now felt toward each other didn’t exist. Yet, judging by his stand, there might not be a chance to bring those old moments back.

“So, how long are you staying in L.A for?” He asked. And he must’ve seen the way your face fell in disappointment for he quickly followed by saying “Not that I’m not happy that you’re here, of course, I invited you. Just wondering because that bag is just-”

“Oh. Yeah, no. My other bags are still at the hotel”

“The hotel?”

“Yeah, I just asked my team if I could leave them there since we leave in a week and I don’t need much to get by while I’m here and so…”

“Wait,” Ashton shook his head “You’ve been in L.A for a while now?”

“A month or so”

“And you didn’t tell me? Y/N, I offered you a place to stay for a reason”

You frowned “Ash, I did tell you. Last time we texted to see when I was arriving, I told you I was already here”

“No, you said-” He protested as he took out his phone and you watched him scroll down to your conversation. His words got caught up once he read those messages again “I- I though-”

“I have been incredibly busy these past few days, hence why I didn’t want to inconvenience you with my crazy schedule and all. This last week is all I have to relax and so I thought that we could catch up this week before I leave?”

“No, no, no yeah, you’re totally right.” He said, running a hand through his face, embarrassedly “I’m just an idiot”

You looked at him quizzically.

“Everything okay, Ash?”

“I thought we had more time, that’s all” He smiled softly at you “Anyway, ready for tonight?”

“Tonight?” You asked, a small smile forming in your face.

“Yeah! I’m taking you to dinner to celebrate your new album!”

Ashton started to dance awkwardly, making you laugh as you shook your head at him.

“You really don’t have to do that, you know?”

“I want to!” He said “You’ll see, just be ready by seven”

He clapped his hands and left the room. A warm feeling spread through your chest on the fact that he wanted to celebrate you and your success. It finally felt like he cared, like he hasn’t forgotten about you. This really was a chance to put all bad things in the past and start anew.

Or at least, that’s what you hoped.

You scared me to death, but I'm wasting my breath 'Cause you only listen to your fucking friends

Fuck off and pour another drink And tell me what you think You know that I'm too drunk to talk right now

You knocked on his door at fifteen past seven. You decided to wear your favorite light blue top with black, wide leg pants and some low heels. You didn’t really know where he was supposed to take you or how you should dress, so you went with the most comfortable but chic thing you could find given that you didn’t plan to go out as much.

When Ashton opened his door you took a step back to look at him. He was wearing jeans and a wide, white shirt. You could feel your cheeks blush, and had to look down to hide it. It was an awful familiar feeling that you thought you could leave behind knowing that it was extremely pointless to feel the way you once did.

And just like all those years back, he didn’t notice. But for the first time you were glad he didn’t.

“Sorry I made you wait” He said with a smile, closing the door behind him.

“It’s okay,” You said, looking up with a shy smile.

Ashton walked past you to grab his keys, the path he created with his cologne left you dumbfounded for a minute. It was a different smell, one that you weren’t familiar with.

“Why do you have so many colognes?” You asked him once, walking over to his small desk while he wrote what was left of his assignment. Ashton looked up and chuckled when he saw you puffing them into the air to smell them and making faces at each one “They’re mostly presents from my family. I think my aunts were trying to tell me something last year”

“Well, at least they have good taste” You said, trying on the one that had a clear, almost orangy color bottle “Yeah, I’m taking this one home”

“No the hell you’re not!” He got up and took the bottle away from you, raising his arm over his head so that you couldn't catch it. It was his favorite pastime to remind you just how short you were back then “This is my favorite one!”

“You never use it!”

“I will!”

After a couple more tries to grab it from his hands you saw yourself surrender and falling onto his bed again “If you don’t wear it at least five times a week, I’ll take it”

“Deal” He said with a smile, throwing one of his hoodies at you from the floor “And then you will hate it so much because it’ll remind you too much of me that you won’t even want it afterward”

You never told him that it would be the opposite.

Next thing you know, Ashton has parked and was getting out of the car. You looked around and you were surrounded by nice streets and expensive houses. You opened the door and looked over at Ashton who was nodding his head toward one of the houses.

“C’mon” He said with a smile.

“Where are we? Is this a new restaurant I haven’t heard about or…?” “What? No,” He chuckled, ringing the doorbell “Is my friend Andrew’s home. He invited us over for dinner to celebrate that he came back from tour as well”

You were at a loss for words, “He invited us?”

“Yeah, I told him you were coming. Why, what’s wrong?”

A lot. You wanted to tell him. A lot was wrong. How could he not see what he was doing? If he had told you that you were just going to a friend’s house then you wouldn’t have looked so out of place, or feel like a fish out of water. You didn’t know who this Andrew was, you didn’t even know if Ash had actually told them that you were coming or if you’re just going to turn up at this reunion/party for his friend. He said it was to celebrate you.

But before you could voice your concerns to him, the door opened and a guy with a big mop of hair jumped in to hug him.

“Dude! I’m so happy you could make it!” He - Andrew, apparently - smiled widely at Ash, chatting with him for a minute before he noticed you standing beside him “Oh, hi!”

“Hi,” You smiled shyly, extending your hand in greeting knowing Ashton was not going to introduce you judging by the face he just made, seemingly embarrassed of that fact “I’m Y/N”

“Of course!” Said Andrew, shaking your hand and pulling you in for a kiss on the cheek that you weren’t expecting “I heard so much about you, I didn’t know you were friends with this guy here”

“Yeah! We’re friends since the old Australian days” Ashton said, smiling at you “Y/N here dropped by for a visit since she’s doing a lil business around L.A”

You smiled tensely during that small exchange. Wanting nothing more than to crawl back into the car and wait for everything to be over.

One of the reasons you left L.A was because nothing ever felt right. For years you tried to fit in into the scene, going to parties and hosting them with a bunch of people who didn’t even know your last name. You were never good at making new friends, that is to say once you’ve established a relationship with someone then friendship would just roll around the corner. But everyone here was moving so fast it was almost impossible to even wish for a deeper connection with someone.

When you first moved, you thought it would be like a great new beginning. Yet you’ve never felt more alone. The only people you knew were from your team and from Ashton’s band, but even then they turned into more acquaintances given just how little time they seemed to spend in the city.

And maybe Ashton knew that. Maybe he was trying to fix that and give you some opportunities to mix with his group of friends; something you’ve been wanting to do since you moved here all those years ago. Still, something fell… off about all of this.

After the guys talked a little bit more, finally Andrew invited you in. There, you found a group of people you’ve never met hanging around the living room. Plastic cups and ashtrays were scattered around the room as a tinted, light smoke served to decorate the place and give you just an idea of the state of most attendees.

As you walked by, people started to come up to Ash, greeting him and spending a few minutes catching up. Not one of them turned to look at you for more than a second or even gave you the courtesy to say hi. Ashton didn’t seem to notice it at first, but there would come the rare occasion that he would introduce you to some of the groups that started forming around him.

It was not a rare sight for you. Back in school he was the popular one, always friendly with countless people you didn’t even see around school that often.

“This is Y/N, she’s here promoting her new album!” He’d say.

“Wait, I know you!” One of the strangers said, their smile totally welcoming “Taylor Swift gave you a few shout-outs recently, didn’t she?”

You smiled “Yeah! I had a chat with her at a label party a few days back. She’s amazing. We talked about collabing soon, maybe a writing session next time she flies out to the U.K”

“Damn, that’s awesome! I’m Laura, by the way” They said, extending her hand toward you “Ash, why didn’t you bring her along on one of our trips?”

Ashton chuckled “C’mon L, well…”

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s our style. No offense” A guy next to them said. You frowned

“What do you mean?” You smiled awkwardly “Have you heard my songs before or-?”

“Nah, it ain’t that. It’s just- We don’t go Taylor Swift’s style”

You could feel your heart beating loudly inside your chest as you looked between Ashton and the other guy, hoping that Ash would intervene “But I’m not Taylor”

Once again you looked toward Ash, but his eyes were cast down to the bottle of beer that he held in his hands. You couldn’t help the disappointment that came over you then.

“Hey man, not cool” Laura said, locking your arms together as they pulled you away “Don’t mind him, he’s high out his mind right now. C’mon, let’s get a bit drunk”

They took you to the main couches and sat next to you. Your cheeks were a bit red from the humiliation. How could you have expected Ashton to defend you? He said it before that your music didn’t go with his vibes and that it was not really his thing, so why would he help you now?

“Those guys can be assholes sometimes. I love them, but they’re so…” Laura trailed off, looking over at you “But hey, forget about them. Tell me a little bit about yourself, how do you know Ash?”

You ended up telling them your whole story. About how you met when you were kids and how he was your best friend. How lonely you felt when he moved away the first time. And how excited you were to see him again after your big break, but that life got in the way. You probably told them more than you should’ve, but the drinks were soft and the room was crowded. And for the first time in the evening someone was actually willing to listen, curious to know you rather than know about you.

“That seems like a whole adventure” They smiled, “And when was the last time you saw Ash before deciding to come and stay with him?”

It wasn’t that long ago, a year or so earlier, when you gave a secret concert in London when you released your last album. He was standing in the corner, smiling at you as you sang. It was the first time since you told him you were moving a couple of years prior. You both kept following each other on social media, but that was pretty much it when it came to your relationship. And you were good with it.

You knew they were in the U.K for their tour, Michael and Crystal had asked you for drinks during that same week and you had a great time catching up. So, against your mind’s warning, you started to hope you would run to him soon enough. And when he appeared at the concert, you couldn’t help but smile back.

Afterwards, when you were back in the green room, you asked if he was still out there and to invite him over to chat. But no one from your team saw him; apparently he was already gone by the time you went off the stage. You remember waiting until you went home to allow yourself to cry, even for just a few minutes. That small interaction that seemingly never happened opened the wound back again. And, if you were honest with yourself, that was one of the main reasons why you decided to take on his offer to stay with him. But you didn’t say that.

“I don’t know,” You told them instead, as your eyes landed on Ashton standing a few feet away from you, a lighted joint between his lips as he laughed with people that you haven’t seen before “Since I moved to Scotland, I think. A while before, probably”

If Laura saw the sadness in your eyes, they never mentioned it. They just said “Okay, I think you should be a little bit drunker, my friend”

Hours later you were alone and tipsy sitting at the front porch of Andrew’s home, nursing a cigarette between your fingers.

“I didn’t know you smoked” A voice came from behind you.

You sighed, putting the filter in between your lips and taking a long hit before you let the smoke get lost into the night.

“You’re mad.” Ashton said, sitting next to you

“And you’re high”

“So we’re both telling the truth tonight” He chuckled, you didn’t “When did you pick up this habit?”

“I don’t know,” You answer honestly. “It was better than drinking myself to death back in Australia. It helps with my anxiety”

“What do you-”

“Alcohol makes you fat.” You deadpanned as you took another hit “I didn’t want my mom to have yet another reason for her nagging”

“Y/N-”

“But she’s not here so,” You passed him your empty cup, still not looking at him “Bring me another one, please?”

Ashton sighed “I think you had enough,”

“You will just never stop making decisions for me, are you?” You stood up, killing the cigarette after one last blow “I know what I’m doing, Ash. I’m a fucking adult, if you haven’t realized. I don’t need you to tell me what to do”

His eyes widened. He parted his lips as if to say something, looking over his shoulder back at the party. You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t worry, your friends can’t listen to what I’m saying. Your reputation will still be intact and they will still love everything that comes out of your mouth”

“Hey,” Ashton said with a bit of a bark “Don’t talk about them like that”

You pressed your lips on a tight smile, looking at him as your eyes filled with tears. You couldn’t believe that he was defending them like that from just a simple comment, but left you completely alone when they were making worse comments at you.

“Fuck, Y/N” He said, frustrated “I’m trying here, you know? It’s like I don’t even know you anymore! You don’t want to talk to me, you moved across the world. You still talk to the guys-”

“They’re my friends,”

“I was your friend too!” He shouted, surprising you “And I want this to work. I want you here, with me. But if you don’t want to be here and go back to your fucking hotel- I want us to work!”

“Why am I here, Ash?”

“C’mon, don’t be like that! I just wanted you to meet a few people, celebrate your new album-”

“Yet none of them cared to get to know me, nor you to introduce me and actually wanting to celebrate with me” You took a deep breath and sighed “Give me the keys to the house, I want to leave”

Ashton shook his head.

“You’re angry. I get that”

“No, Ash. I’m tired and I want to go to bed” You said more firmly this time “Give me the keys and I’ll call an Uber”

“I’ll take you!”

“The fuck you aren’t” You laughed, not a hint of humor in your voice “You’re high with more than just weed apparently. I’m drunk. I would rather not fucking die tonight, thank you”

“I’m not going to-”

“I don’t want you to! Okay? Fuck, Ash! I don’t feel safe around you!”

You saw the ways his eyes changed, how hurt they looked so suddenly at your words. You knew you wounded him, but it was how you felt. You didn’t trust him, not tonight.

“Y/N…” He said, getting up and walking over to you but you took a step back. He sighed, roaming around his pockets before he found his keys and gave them to you “Text me when you get there, leave the keys by the potted tree”

You answered him with a nod and a small thank you. You didn’t watch him as he turned away and walked by to the house. You didn’t hear Laura, who was watching over from the window, tell him:

“I don’t know what you did, man. But I’ve never seen anyone with such sadness in her eyes”

Damn, who are we right now? Can we have a little conversation? Figure it out with no intoxication We carry on, what is our motivation?

You woke up when you heard footsteps outside of your door. You knew it was him waiting outside, probably debating on whether or not to knock on your door, wanting to talk. There were times in the past where he would just open the door to your room and sit down on the floor next to your bed, waiting for you to start talking or acknowledge him so that he could apologize or talk things through. Sometimes you didn’t need to say anything, you just understood each other. And as he walked away without a word, you wondered where did all those times go?

Where was the friend that would go out with you and wait on the street for a cab to take you home, no matter whom he was with or what you were doing. Where was the friend that when you snuck out to your first concert, he held you close by the waist and covered your body so that none of the beer that people were throwing around got into your clothes or hair. What happened to the friend that would stay awake chatting with you on the phone even though you had an exam early the next morning, all because the guy you liked broke your heart.

Tears rolled down your face as you tossed and turned on the bed. It wasn’t fair, your heart kept begging your brain to understand. It wasn’t fair that you had to lose it all without a warning.

Once upon a time, you thought you had it all as long as Ashton was there. Now, you begin to miss the times where he wasn’t. Times where you learned to be happy without him, where you didn’t need him or his approval. Times where you felt complete even though your best friend was not around anymore. You were better off without him, and learned to live without him. You knew that to be the truth. But one just can’t ignore the past and the mystery of how the person that makes you feel such horrible things about yourself once promised to give you the world and its stars and meant it.

You just couldn’t figure it out. So you just forced yourself to go back to sleep.

When you woke up again a few hours later and made your way to the kitchen, you found freshly made coffee and bagels waiting for you on the counter with a little note next to them:

“I’m sorry, can we talk about it later? XX Ash”

You sighed as you wiped out the tears that clung to your eyelashes. You took a sip of the coffee and found comfort in the heat of the mug.

On the other side of town, Ashton was doing the same thing. His eyes were covered behind dark sunglasses as he thought of what to say once he got home. In front of him, Calum can’t say that he’s impressed from what he’s heard.

“What’s your deal?” He asked his friend.

“I- I don’t know” Ashton answered, biting the inside of his cheek “I thought she would have a good time. She was always cool at coming to those types of parties with me back home, we used to have fun”

“You and I both know she hates parties, and back home she had you. The normal, probably tipsy you, to keep her company” Calum said, taking a bite out of his sandwich “Last week I found her sitting alone while the rest of the world was having a conversation around her. We talked and it was nice, she’s not normally that outgoing on the get-go. She never was”

“You saw her last week?”

“We were invited to Gabriel’s cocktail party. You didn’t want to go, as usual”

“You never told me that-”

“What? That we’re still in contact? Dude, we all talk to her from time to time. We mention her in our conversations every now and then. She’s still our friend”

Ashton sighed, “So she just hates me for no reason?”

“You truly think that Y/N L/N could hate you?” Calum chuckled, “That girl would’ve followed you straight to the end of the world back in Aus. As far as I know, there’s only one person she truly hated”

“Who?” Ashton scoffed “I’m pretty sure our politics teacher was not so bad”

“What? No, Ash-” Calum shook his head “Remember when-” His face went blank “Oh shit,”

“What?”

“You didn’t know?”

Tell me that it's all okay You ruined everything good I've been waitin' on this all damn day Always said you were misunderstood Call me in the morning', tell me how last night went I'm here, but don't count on me to Just fucking leave me alone

He found you sitting outside in one of his garden chairs. A cigarette was hanging from your fingertips as the ashes fell on the floor in a small pile. You didn’t look back at him, for your eyes were staring at the moon that decorated the sky with its beauty.

You felt him come outside and sit on the chair next to you. The sound of a lighter made you blink, and you sighed at his exhale. There was no way he was doing this sober, and you couldn’t blame him. Yet…

“I was hoping we could talk without any of that” You said. “You have your ways and I have mines”

Silence fell over the two of you once again. You could feel his eyes burning holes into your profile, but you didn’t have the courage to look at him just yet.

“When did I stop being your best friend?” He asked.

Tears quickly covered your eyes and you hated that. “Probably around the time when you stopped being mine”

“Y/N-”

“You held me, once. Not the usual hugs that we gave each other, no. This one was different. We were at school, an overnight vigil that the nuns made us do every year”

“Those were fun,” He commented “A huge sleepover at school”

“The theme was about lost ones, remember? I had just lost my grandma that past week”

“I wasn’t at the funeral, I was away on a trip to the city. She was the one that taught you how to bake”

“Yeah,” You chuckled. “Though, I was never good at it once she passed. Anyway, of course I started crying. I’ve already lost so many people back then, and I was barely hanging on. But then - then you held me, so tightly. And my tears left a damp stamp on your shirt. You cradled me and brushed my hair with your fingers and whispered “It’ll be okay, you can cry. It’s okay” and kissed my head as they started to sing. You sang as well and never said a thing about it afterwards. That was the moment I knew I couldn’t have loved you more”

The sound of a cricket broke your monologue, and you allowed yourselves to be fed into the sounds of nature for a while. You knew there were still things left unsaid, so you better get over with it now rather than later. You didn’t want to stay for the aftermath.

“Remember the first time you came back to Australia? I was still living there in the house we grew up in. I was having a shitty day at work, so I went to grab a coffee at our favorite coffee shop with other coworkers when a few of our old friends and classmates came through the door. We said our hellos and caught up, it was nice. Then they had to go. “Who’s coming with me to Ash’s house?” One of them said. I remember asking about it as they argued over who had to take the bus or a cab. They told me you were coming back that day and have invited people over to celebrate”

“Y/N,”

“You invited them. Even people I didn’t know that well and that I know for a fact didn’t know you as well. And don’t try to tell me it was a guys thing, cause you invited girl classmates as well”

Ashton opened his mouth to say something, yet nothing came out. “I was numb as I took a taxi home. I still remember that the radio played “Waiting for Superman” as I tried my hardest not to cry. But when I got into the kitchen, I just couldn’t stop. I cried myself to sleep that night knowing that you were just a door away but didn’t want me there”

“Y/N, I wanted you there” He said, putting his hand on your arm as he leaned closer “I - I know I can’t say anything to fix it now but- I missed you, too”

“It didn’t seem like it” You told him “Every time I learned something about you back then was through a story or a tweet. I learned through the paparazzi who you were with and in which city you were going to sleep next. I saw you living your best life with your friends away from home. And, I get it, we both resented that place and all that we suffered while we were there. I just - I just hoped that my memory was something worth saving, cause my memory of you always was and will always be the best thing that’s happened to me while we were there”

You turned to him and looked him in the eyes “It just hurt to know that while I put you on a pedestal, I was already out of your sight”

“Baby, you know that’s not true” You scoffed “I swear! In my memory, you were always there! Front of the line!”

“Then why-?”

“I was scared, okay?!” He shouted, lowering his eyes in shame “So fucking scared and it’s so stupid!”

“Scared of what?!” You shouted back, willing for him to look you in the eyes “Ashton, for god’s sake just tell me!”

“They told me that you liked me!”

For a moment time stood still. You backed away from him as his words started to make sense. You pulled away your arm, letting his hand grasp the space that you left between the two of you.

“What?”

“People started whispering,” He said, his voice broken as if he were crying “Telling me how good of a couple we could be. How happy you were with me and how in love you looked”

“When was it?”

“At the beginning of our senior year” Ashton admitted, ashamed “I- I already knew that I wanted to get out of Australia. I knew that with the guys we could take the band somewhere massive. So I put my whole soul into it, trying to escape the feelings that would pull me back”

“You thought I was pulling you back” You stated, betrayed.

“No! I was pulling myself back by thinking about it!” Ashton said, finally looking at you and hating the way you were looking at him “I couldn’t risk it”

“Couldn’t risk what?! That I could have feelings for you?!” You stood up “You’re unbelievable! You could’ve asked me! Come to me instead of running away and make me lose part of myself in the process. Parts that I can’t take back, that I can’t love back because of you”

“Y/N!” He tried reaching out to you, but you took a step back.

“No!”

“Y/N, please! Just-!”

He grabbed you by the elbow and pulled you to him. The movement made you lose your balance, tripping over your feet as Ashton maneuvered you to land on top of his lap, holding you by your waist.

The sudden proximity made you lose all the air inside your lungs as you looked at him and his hazel eyes surrounded by red. He looked desperate, pleading with his eyes for something you couldn’t understand. He was breathing hard, his chest colliding against yours where your heartbeats were going as fast as your thoughts. Almost impossible to catch up.

Then, almost without thinking, Ashton launched himself forward and pressed his lips on yours.

The softness of the kiss contrasted the chills that ran up and down your bodies. As you gasped for air, his hand came to tangle itself on your hair, pulling you closer to him as you allowed him to deepen the kiss. He sat back on the chair and pulled you with him, making your legs spread at either side of his hips; never once letting you go as he kissed you over and over again, like a man deprived of something more.

“Y/N,” He whimpered against your lips, making you sigh as his hands roamed your body until they landed on your hips, moving them against lower half “Y/N, please”

Your mind was clouded in smoke, feeling the heat of his kiss along the length of your neck. His words whispered your name, as his movements on your hips became erratic, letting you feel all of him under you.

“Please, please Y/N” He said, kissing and kissing and kissing every part he could find “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”

Suddenly, you opened your eyes as you jumped back to reality. Putting a hand on his chest and pulling away from him. Both of you were left panting, as your skin tingled from the contact.

Ashton’s eyes were desperate, looking at you in fear of what you might do. His lips - you imagined - were a mirror of yours, plumb and beat red as your name escaped him in the form of a question. You closed your eyes and let a tear fall across your cheek as you shook your head.

“You don’t get to do this to me” Your voice, a whisper.

“What?” He asked, almost out of breath. But you were already getting off him and turning your step back to the house.

“You don’t get to do this to me!” You yelled through the tears “You don’t get to confuse me all over again. You don’t get to have a half-ass apology followed by a kiss that would make it all better!” You turned to him, poking a finger on his chest “You don’t get to make me hate myself all over again for loving you when you didn’t think it was convenient for you!”

“Y/N!” Ashton pleaded, taking your hand in his before you yanked it away “I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking-!”

“Exactly! You weren’t thinking! You never, not once, thought of me during all of this. Fucking admit it! Trying to get me to come here to patch things up was just such bullshit! You just wanted to make sure that I was still available for you any time you wanted! And don’t say it isn’t fair cause you were not aware of how miserable you made me!”

“That’s not true-”

“Was this just a plot to get me to bed?! Is that what you think of me now?!”

“It’s not true!” Ashton yelled “I know I made a mistake and I’m so fucking sorry! I should’ve never-! Look, I want to patch things up. You were right, goddammit, Y/N, you were right! It took me a long time to realize and fuck! After you moved away I was fucking miserable as well! I- I failed you”

You stood there in front of him, crying silently as he paced desperately.

“Ashton,” You called to him “Ashton, why am I here?”

Suddenly, he stopped and looked at you “Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“About what?”

“For fuck’s- About the fact that you were abused, Y/N!” He yelled, leaving you speechless “Right after I left! Why didn’t you say anything?!”

You swallowed hard “It was none of your business-”

“You told Calum” He accused “You told Calum and you never told me. Why? Maybe it was not just me who was a shitty friend to you, after all, if you were going to keep things like that from me”

“How fucking dare you, Ashton Irwin. How fucking dare you?” You pushed him away “I told Calum by mistake! I didn’t mean to do it and it was years after it happened. And because I didn’t think you would care!”

“What?” He broke down, putting his hands on his knees for balance as he looked at you in tears “How- Why would you think that?”

“Because it’s the truth,” You cried “Just like you said, you had big dreams and a massive opportunity and I was just going to pull you back. Ashton, you just justified everything I thought it was true with that sentence”

“Y/N-”

“Do you think I had a good time? Knowing that my best friend, the only person I cared about in the world didn’t give a fuck about me to even ask how I was doing? So if you really wanna know… I don’t relate to you anymore. I don’t. I don’t want to think about what we had anymore because it just makes me fucking sad. I thought the world of you. Ash, you were my everything. I loved you, as a friend. I loved you, as the sun loves the moon even when it’s gone. I loved you with every prayer, every pleading, every move I made was for that one day I could be with you again, anyway that you would have me. I would’ve died a thousand times next to you, just as long as you kept me company. I didn’t care about what could happen to me. And when something happened, I tried to spare you from it, even when you never once asked. Fuck! I moved to L.A and this is the first time I’ve been in your house!”

“That’s-”

“I wish I could explain it better, I wish it wasn’t true. I wish we could’ve resolved this somehow, but let’s be honest. There is no bridge to burn when we're already so far away. And those memories? From all those years back? Now it all feels like a lie and don’t you dare say otherwise. You’re not the person I once knew, Ash. The person I once knew would’ve never invited me here to leave me alone at a party with people I don’t know, saying a cute lie about how it was for me when in reality it was to make you look a certain way. The person I once knew would’ve never made me feel like nothing every time we were at an event together and you couldn’t even say hi. The person I once knew would’ve never let their “friends” disrespect me in any way. The Ashton I knew wouldn’t have tried to make me feel sad. He wouldn’t have made me so miserable to be in my own skin because they’re not brave enough to face the music he so highly speaks about. You never once showed support for what I do once I became my own person. You never once called to ask how I was. You never once believed in me as much as I believed in you. You made me hate this city. But even more, you made me hate everything I used to love about us. Now I meet someone new and wondered if it’ll be like what we had. You ruined me, Ash. And you never apologized for it”

Ashton was shaking his head, crying as he listened to what you had to say.

After you had your feelings heard, you didn’t walk away or ran through the door so that you could escape the aftermath like you did back in December all those years ago. You were not going to run away again. Not when your heart finally felt light from all the things you’ve been carrying.

You and Ashton cried in silence, each one at one side of the room.

The two of you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened and why did it end up like this? You could play the blaming game; pretend this never happened; you could walk out and never see each other again; or, you could just stand there, waiting, digesting the sour words that fell from both your lips and think, think of anything that could be saved.

“What are we going to do?” Ashton finally asked, voice hoarse from the crying.

“I don’t know,” You answered in all honesty “It’s like we only play to lose”

“Every time,” He said, looking at you and giving a small chuckle. “Every time I see you it just hurts. Not for anything you’ve done, but for everything that I could’ve done but didn’t”

“Maybe it was for the best to have it end this way”

“But… I don’t want it to.” Ashton admitted in a whisper “Now that you’re here… I kept on failing cause I wanted to prove to myself that I still knew you”

You laughed “Who are we, Ash?” you asked “A girl that chases over the past and a boy with the excuse?”

“How the hell we’re going to make it?”

“Maybe we don’t” You shrugged “Maybe we’re just meant to be passing figures on the street. People we once knew. We can’t go back from this, Ash, and you know it. We’re just going to keep hurting each other”

Ashton nodded, walking over to you as you let yourself be embraced by a hug.

“I love you, Y/N. I will always love you”

“Terribly” You murmured against his chest “I will love you all my life, Ash. And I’ll miss you forever”

“Tell me that it’ll be okay? Please?”

You smiled and placed a small kiss on his chest, and held him tighter. And he knew.

He knew.

*

*

tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @hoodharlow @littledrummeraussie @irwin-fletcher-ash @wiiildflowerrr @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @in-superbloom @sadcupofcoffee @personalmuyverypersonal @as-hs-blog @himbohood @sofiaaraee @irwindoll @weasleytwinscumslut @fairytrice @colourfulcal @nibin0912 @youneedtocalumdown @heyitskelseaj @ashtonsunflower @calumspupils@secretsicanthideanymore @alltimesos @wontlastimokwiththat @whywontyoulovemecami @theimpossiblehologramtree @perriexed @abiancajg @rewmuslupin @icelily13 @bookthingz @gracieboogirl @fastandtheformula1 @lendeluxe

[emilysidhe]

This is a plant runner:

I made it a few years ago. It’s double knit, which is a knitting technique where you cast on stitches that you intend to be on the front of the piece alternating with stitches that you intend to be on the back of the piece and use two balls of yarn in alternating knits and purls to keep some stitches in the front and let som drift to the back, so that you’re basically knitting a giant pocket. You can switch the front and back yarn to make a reversible color pattern.

It’s also felted. Felting is when you take 100% wool yarn and use agitation, heat, or friction to induce the fibers to fuse together, essentially shrinking it on purpose. This makes a much stiffer and sturdier fabric that holds its shape and is more watertight.

This happened because I wanted a plant runner and I thought, “Why don’t more people make double-knit, felted plant runners? I’ve never seen a pattern for one, but it makes so much sense! Double knitting is super flat even with color work, so the pots will be stable, and felted wool is so waterproof that water actually beads on it, so it’ll help with spills. Plus it won’t felt any more in a delicates bag with cold water on a delicate cycle, so I’ll be able to machine wash it. This is a great idea - I’m gonna try it!”

Well, I found out why more people don’t do this, because it was a pain in the neck to make. Because I was shrinking it, it had to be larger than I wanted the finished piece; because it was double knit, I had to do twice as much knitting to get the front and back done; and because of the color work, I had to pay attention to what I was doing the whole time. Most of the time when I’m knitting rectangles like this, I only have to repeat the pattern 3-4 times and it internalizes to the point where I start having an intuitive sense of what to do next and start only having to glance down occasionally to check where I am. I can do complex cables with the TV on and watch the screen most of the time - I’ve knit simpler stuff with an ebook open on a propped screen reading as I go. This thing I had to keep looking at the entire time. Between the double knitting and the leaf pattern, I had to constantly watch what I was doing. This thing took forever! If I calculated out the hours I spent on this as money, there no way I’d spend even a fraction of it on a *plant runner.*

And yet … I had barely finished it when I was already thinking about making another one. You see, I was right. This really does make a fantastic plant runner. It catches the dirt and dried leaves that fall off the plants and keeps them from messing my table, water does bead on it so it protects my table from spills beautifully, and the plant pots sit very stably on it. It’s great!

But I used a kind of wool that comes in several different colors, but is all undyed - it’s from white or brown sheep. I was worried the darkest and lightest colors - that cream that you think of when you hear undyed wool and a dark chocolate brown - would be too much contrast and I went with the second darkest and lightest (a heathered dark brown and an oatmeal off-white). But I forgot how fuzzy wool gets when felted like this and I want a second crack at it with the higher contrast colors to make the pattern pop more. (This is one of the rare cases where the pattern is actually slightly more distinct in photographs than irl.) There’s even a small voice that I think of as, “That is the craft-devil talking,” whispering that I should try it out again with wool yarn that comes in actual colors and see what it looks like as green-and-something.

Fortunately, everyone I know seems to be having babies at the same time, so it’ll probably be 3-5 years before I make anything for myself that isn’t a quick, weekend project between yet another baby blanket.

But every time I wash it, there is that craft-devil. Whispering.

[gdayinla]

Saturday, July 16, 2022

Moon in pieces

I wake up late. I stay in bed late. I appreciate my mattress and the fluffiness of my comforter a little while longer. A long while.

I’m bummed every other morning about the state of my hair, already so dirty. I know I need to go back to batiste for the desired effect but realize also they do animal testing. I need to find one as good. Regardless it’s a ponytail every other day. Today a sunglasses act as a headband and I’m satisfied.

I look good in orange and I forget that until I wear it. New rectangular gold hoops give off an elegance and aim toward trendy that I appreciate and desire. I have such a vision for my closet that I rarely try to emulate. Maybe it will be something I tackle over time- and American Eagle no longer sells my favorite jeans. I adore them but once again there is an inevitable hole on the right thigh. Not the point.

The orange shirt in a halter top cut shows off my ridiculous taglines but I don’t mind- I lather sunscreen on my shoulders arms and chest and hope for the best. A fuchsia linen button down goes in my new tote bag just in case. The new tote bag from A24 is my new favorite bag- cute pattern, lots of space an an extra pocket, I am set

I put on a pair of new shoes and I’m maybe 3 inches taller. Oh to be 5’8. Oh to trip and twist my ankle in my kitchen and have to sit down for a minute.

It’s maybe 11 o’clock. I have leftover pizza for breakfast. And the slices are cut into shapes that remind me that the man at the shop said it was cut into triangles, then an attempt was made to remedy the cut. It was comical. I’d denied his offer for a new pizza.

It’s noon- I’m going to go get my rook pierced. I get a weird feeling sometimes- I mean once or twice before that I’ve felt that drives me to suddenly go add a new piece of jewelry to my ear. The rook had been on my wish list anyway, there’s a place the miles away in Santa Monica- why not.

So I drive half an hour to go ten miles because that’s how LA works and the worry is on my mind the whole drive- what if there’s only parallel parking? Now, it’s not impossible for me to do, per say and it’s not a great idea to go driving in LA if you can’t do that. (A requirement for my new apartment was a parking lot, I really won’t parallel park. And thank god my job has a garage.) I just haven’t parallel parked since I got my license in Sept of 2017. Have I attempted it since? Yes, but it was unsuccessful. If it’s a street spot, I only park in it if I can pull forward into it. Maybe one day a car with a backup camera will be in my future, but for now- I will drive forever around a block to find parking.

But I got lucky this time. A street parking space with a large amount of room in front of it before the next spot. I pulled in forward, just backed in and paid two dollars for two hours, should’ve paid for longer in hindsight. Was given a 15 minute wait and walked up the block to the cutest damn Starbucks I’ve ever seen. It should’ve been on the beach. With the light blue exterior and build of a small business in a beach town and enough tall plants outside to prove some shade, I wish I lived close enough to become a regular- and the pink drink was one of the best I’ve ever had; a champion açaí to coconut milk ratio.

I’ve barely sipped my drink when I get the call. That’s when I meet Paige. We figure out we’re both going to the pricing studio and had grabbed Starbucks to wait. She’s getting her jeweled hoops changed cause it’s to big. I say mine is also bigger than I’d like and she says hers is bigger- it’s not but okay Paige. Tell her I’m getting a rook when she asks what I’m doing it. She’s considering it but not sure.

I get pierced. It was easy- just bloody.

I go back to Starbucks and sit outside for an hour and a half- my ear doesn’t hurt. The throb is only occasional and easy to miss while I’m engrossed in my book. The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo hooks you and I’m not surprised by all of the reviews and people insisting it needs to be read.

But when I read I get distracted easily by my surroundings because it’s so nice out. It’s 73 degrees. There’s a breeze and so many different people come in and out of the Starbucks. There’s a cute fluffy white dog. A mother and a daughter. Four teen boys who stop by on their bikes for water and one of them asks another if he’s sure the water is free. He insists and goes inside by himself before he returns with four grande waters in a carrier.

I really get into my book. Monique is tasked with writing a story about the Evelyn Hugo.

A red Prius drives by with California plaster and I remember I don’t know my license place. I memorized my mom’s mini van plates but the ones adoring my own car don’t exist in my memory besides LJZ…

A woman walks by with a crying baby and seems irritated that her baby in a stroller facing the bright sun is crying- some parents are so clueless.

Evelyn invites Monique into her office .

A woman in a hoodie sits behind me playing music aloud on her phone as I try to read and I’m too distracted.. I wish jazz was playing and while I have my AirPods, I don’t know if I trust the city enough to wear them right now.

I can’t decide if I’ll go to a museum or if I’ll run errands next.

Evelyn says that Oh, I know the whole world prefers a woman who doesn't know her power, but I'm sick of all that.

My chair is uncomfortable but I have a beach towel with me. I tuck it behind my back because I’d rather be uncomfortable

I love the absence of big pickup trucks in LA. Who needs ‘em? Very few people apparently.It felt like every white boy I went to high school with needed a truck and got one on their 16th birthday. It was almost never that they needed them to be useful- it was just cool to them. It was the thing to do.

Chapter 7 page 55

Monique says she’s from Encino-it excites me.

I need to put more money in the meter.

No I’m going to go have a very late lunch at coral tree cafe

Hell I’ve already gotten a piercing today without having a real meal- my eyes were a tad fuzzy for two seconds after. I’m fine but I need a meal and breakfast at 3 sounds perfect.

I stop writing while I drive. Come to find the nearby Coral Tree is paid cash valet parking only. And there’s not. Single parking spot around. So I drive to the other one in Encino- the temperature goes up 20 degrees and I regret not just adding more money to the meter and grabbing a snack form the Whole Foods.

A peach banana smoothie and chocolate croissant later I’m sat on the balcony of my favorite A Frame house on Sherwood lake.

“I could get used to a view like this” I can’t say how many times I’ve heard it on screen.

I thought it really wasn’t true- that you can’t get used to things like this- but then I started to be able to drive to my uncles house without the gps.

18 exits north and a left then a right. Then a left and a left and you hit the driveway and suddenly you’re at a charming house overlooking the lake. And the tall eucalyptus tree in the neighbors yard is there per usual. And you know just where to look when it gets dark out to find Scorpius and the Big Dipper in the sky and you realize you’ve gotten used to the view. I still think it’s amazing every time I see it. I think you can be used to something but still appreciate it.

I read as the sunsets for a while with plans of maybe migrating over to the beach as planned. But do I want to go to Santa Monica again today?

Evekyn tells Monique that life isn’t easier because it gets more glamorous.

-The beach plans have been cancelled. I’m on house guard duty and I’d never make it before sundown. For another day then. -

But my uncle invited me to dinner with him and his newest fling. She’s nice. I like her. I tend to like them. Like the next door neighbor. And the one I met two years ago who gifted me a shot glass knowing I was underage and had a lightsaber fight with was nice as well- I like this one more though.

I tell him I like this woman. He says she’s all right. That’s what he always says. It’s how he describes everything. All right. (Hell, I was shocked when he texted me okie dokie earlier today when I said I wanted to come over to read instead of just saying ‘copy.’)

She said she’s all right for a woman. I said she nice and you’re all right for a man. I think he laughed cause he knows I’m right.

I think that’s the thing with Davis men. They know I’m right.

I try not to like the woman that my uncle dates too much because I know it’s not going to last and he knows it’s not going to last-but they never know that. It feels like we have a secret and we both don’t want to address it. But we both know we’re thinking it whenever we talk about whatever woman he’s dating.

I don’t think she knows he invited me because she’s surprised to see me. Or it feels like she is.

He takes a hit from his bong and gets frustrated when I say I should drive. But we barrel down the highway with him at the wheel per usual.

I don’t get a drink at dinner. I don’t like the menu items and don’t really know what I would ask for otherwise. I think the bartender (also Gracie) thinks I don’t want to drink because I don’t feel like it- I’d happily have a drink but it’s too much to think about.

I don’t eat the appetizer they order. But dinner is delicious. A miso cod over a rice patty and asparagus. It’s divine. My uncle tells us that we can talk to each other- me and his current woman. It’d weird to talk over him- and to be frank we’ve run out of things to talk about.

With a drink in him, my uncle drives us to the restaurant he’s a regular at ( so much of a regular that the owner painted a strip of the curb blue- people think it’s a handicap spot that way but it’s just so my uncle and his friends have a section to park in. Wild) so he can say goodbye to an employee who’s going onto do something else. His woman and I sit at. At bale together and talk about how she thinks I should go to night classes for entertainment lae. I tell her I have no desire to do law and no desire to go back to school- she doesn’t seem to care and pushes it anyway. I derail the conversation. I’d order a cocktail but I wouldn’t drink it fast enough and I need to drive home tonight.

My uncle introduces us to a man who’m I give a handshake. He decides when he leaves that he gets a hug. Which is fine for most of my uncle’s friends. I like them because we tend to have conversations. I only said hi to this man and went back to what I was doing. Men are weird.

My uncle says it’s time to go and I’m ready to get home to my rabbit and get ready for bed- I have. Work call at 9am in the morning. After a text goodbye that leaves me and his woman standing by the car waiting we speed per usual.

I often wonder if my uncle is lonely out at his house by himself. That or he just really enjoys my company and misses me. I say I’ll see himtuesday- he wants to see me before he leaves Friday for a wedding- but works Monday, wednesday and Thursday. I tell him I’ll see him Tuesday. He tells me to call to make sure.

He forgot that he hugged me inside and makes me get out of the car to hug him again.

I leave the GPS off as I put on I Know The End and wind down the dark Road by the lake. I pass through the gate and by the time I’m heading down the main road with the wind blowing in my open windows the tempo has picked up.

It’s notably a sad song- but from 2:14 to 4:30 the music brings me a full feeling in my chest and I smile and sing along. And it feels therapeutic. A sad ass song is playing but it puts me in the best mood- an introspective one that makes me think wow I am glad to be driving on a cool night right now through LA. I got myself a life in LA- wtf. And I feel lucky.

And I get on the highway. I cut the song back to 2:15 because when the screaming starts, I have my volume too loud and it hurts. I play the same part over once more before I decide maybe I want to listen to Sabrina Carpenter’s new album- emails I can’t send frequents my Spotify at the moment. Vicious and because I liked a boy are on repeat.

Many things are actually on repeat and it’s very specific

Gracie on repeat:

Vicious | Sabrina Carpenter

becuase i liked a boy | Sabrina Carpenter

I Know the End | Phoebe Bridgers

touch tank | quinnie

Go Getter | Mia Giovina

Annie’s Song | John Denver

Ceilings | Lizzy McAlpine

orange show speedway | Lizzy McAlpine

Running Up That Hill | Kate Bush

Running Up That Hill - Epic Version | Samuel Kim

Special - Lizzo (album)

Both Sides Now | Emilia Jones

Beyond The Shore | Emilia Jones

Don’t Know Why | Norah Jones

Home | Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeroes

And it’s such a random mix of songs. Whatever songs make my brain feel a good kind of warm and fuzzy stay on repeat for me. Not form the official on repeat list, but it happens anyway.

I get home at 11- I’ve left my water bottle at his place. Zuzu is hungry. I’m tired. And every night when I climb into bed, I realize it’s much much better than I remembered.

I lay on my right ear to test if it would hurt to sleep on. The rook piercing is safely placed in my ear with no pain, so I go to sleep.

[flintandpyrite]

Here’s my current project, which is progressing…slowly, because I basically only work on it during Healthcare Issues class twice a week. I really didn’t like the color combination for a long time but it’s growing on me.

[babblydrabbly]

Distracted (Peacemaker x Reader) Smut

Pairing(s): Peacemaker x F!Reader; Brief Javelin x Reader

Characters: Peacemaker/Christopher Smith, Amanda Waller, Javelin

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warning(s): Smut, language, mentions of blood/violence. Choking, cream pie, semi-rough sex.

Summary: Out on a Task Force X mission, Peacemaker notices you're acting... different. He generously offers to help with what's distracting you. Asshole.

A/N: What's this? Baby's first Peacemaker fic? Takes place before The Suicide Squad (2021). Metahuman!Reader has super strength/speed abilities. Also, what kind of vanilla name is Chris Smith.

---

"Again?"

Amanda Waller arched a brow at your perturbed expression.

"My apologies." She droned. "Am I not stimulating you with enough variety, [L/n]?"

You scoffed, folding your arms in deference. It wasn't about that— It was about the deliberately repeated pairings with Christopher Smith. The dynamic that was becoming a pattern. You never would have worked with someone like Peacemaker on the outside. As much as you appreciated the job always getting done with him, you still bumped heads with him too much on the way to the finish line. He was frustratingly serious and flippant at the same time.

You decided to shut your trap before Waller decided she didn't need you anymore.

"You've got one skillset useful to me, [L/n]. I suggest you get used to the prospect of being paired up with Smith on a regular basis— While you're still around."

You nodded when she dismissed you. You had gotten used to it. You were seeing so much of Peacekeeper you were practically partners.

So, you pointedly sat to next the one called Javelin on the helicopter out of Belle Reve, as far away from Smith as possible. You were about to spend over twelve hours with him— It didn't have to start right away. While Colonel Flag gave you all the spiel on the mission, you glanced over and saw Javelin toss you a nod.

"You're Team B," The thrower noted over the whir of the helicopter. "[L/n], yes?"

"Yeah," you said. Your eyes flitted over the muscular squad member. He looked more like a superhero in his light blue and yellow get-up than the rest of you. You personally kept the lower half of your face covered with a black hard shell mask— Your armor from before you were incarcerated (Yes, you've heard the 'Baby Bane' jokes from the others). Even if you had to get used to working with a bunch of weirdos, you could at least conceal your face from them while you did it.

"You move very swiftly." He complimented, and you didn’t know how you were supposed to take that.

"Thanks," You tried, "I like your... weapon of choice?"

Javelin held his namesake in his arms, his legs spread wide to accommodate it as he rested it against his inner thigh. The innuendo normally would have had you rolling your eyes, but today they lingered, and you wondered if he still looked as broad and muscular without the suit on.

You frowned. Without the suit on?

Were you still staring down at his thighs?

You supposed he was a goddamn Olympic athlete at one point. And prison didn't seem to stop him from his regimen. —There it was again. You blinked and looked away, thankful nobody seemed to notice. Javelin seemed content with the brief introduction, so you left it at that.

Okay, so maybe it had been awhile since you...

You reprimanded yourself. These were not recreational outings. As much as you liked feeling free every once in awhile, you were never in a position to consider doing something so stupid. The last few missions were some of the closest calls you had while on the task force, but now that your job today was more about recon, you could at least let your mind wander to the less... imperative things. You crossed your legs at the ankles in front of you and let mind drift for the rest of the trip.

But christ had prison been rough. And a little boring. You didn’t have to think about Javelin moving closer to you for long— Pressing up flush against you— Before you were imagining yourself against a wall— Hell, right here on this bench— hooking your legs around his waist as he thrusted into you. You pictured him going for two, three rounds, that stupid suit lying on the floor with your back on top of it. You pictured him going down on you too, a handful of his wavy blonde hair in your grasp as you pressed your thighs around his ears. You swallowed behind the mask, glad it was there to hide your face.

You get dropped off an isolated point a few klicks outside the target area, the rest of the team traveling further in to handle the bulk of the mission. You lug some extra equipment in a canvas bag— Guns, surveillance tech— already annoyed by the heat.

The heat of the jungle. Definitely not the heat you'd been feeling in the helicopter. You walked a half mile in total silence just trying to focus on the mission again.

"What's got your tactical suit in a twist?" Smith finally uttered as you got to your destination. You almost forgot he had dropped down the rope onto the ground after you. He stood out against the green around you in his obnoxious red shirt and white pants.

"Nothing." You lied, and you could tell from under his helmet that Peacemaker thought you were full of shit today. Great.

You set up inside a small building— An outpost long abandoned. Whatever organization you were taking down for Waller, they clearly had to downsize over the years. You kicked open the metal door, sending it flying off its hinges. Smith entered first, clearing all the rooms before you joined him. Upstairs, you begin setting up the equipment together. Peacemaker started with standing up a rifle by the window, aiming it at the road below.

You fiddled with a tablet; You went downstairs to put a sensor on the door frame and on the rusted gate blocking the road outside. They were supposed to warn you when any vehicles were approaching, but when you came back up, it lost signal. You did this twice; You batted at the little screen, vexed. There were probably signal jammers over at the main compound that could still reach all the way out here. You thought about how Team A was doing— So inevitably, your thoughts drifted back to the damn Javelin guy.

"Jesus!" You snapped. You were grateful when you didn't break the small screen in half with your strength.

"Okay. What the fuck is wrong." Came Peacemaker's voice from across the room. You stood there without turning around. You took a breath, tossed the tablet onto the bag at your feet.

"Nothing is wrong, Smith. Fuck off." You said. You reached up and unclipped your vest. Beneath it, you felt the cool air of the shelter hit your jumpsuit. You tossed the vest on the floor, then turned around. "When are they supposed to get here?"

He quirked a brow, as if proving his point. Since when didn't you remember the mission details? Rather than give him the satisfaction of thinking you were slipping you waved your own question away.

"God, never mind."

He scoffed. You watched him remove his helmet and gloves, setting them down carefully next to his own pack. He'd made his own area across the room from yours, another tablet showing him a view of the road propped up against the wall. Smith took a seat on the floor; The two of you were going to have to play the waiting game now.

In silence. The thought made you pinch the bridge of your nose right above where your mask stopped.

"You know, I've been at Belle Reve for four years now." You finally relented. You leaned back against your wall, folding your arms over your chest.

"Yeah? So?" Smith retorted. You rolled your eyes.

"So," God— You were really confiding in Christopher Smith. That's what it was coming down to. "I haven't had sex in four years. It's... not a big deal— Nothing's wrong. That's just what I was annoyed about earlier, you know? Consider me over it."

"That why you were ogling the Javelin in the copter today?"

Shit. Shit!

You dropped your arms. "You piece of garbage. You saw that?"

"I'm garbage? You're the one sexually harassing our fellow teammates with your eyes."

"I was not sexually— Nope. I'm done. You're ridiculous." You said. You reached down and went back to your tablet, busying yourself with it idly.

Peacemaker did the same. From the corner of your eye, you just knew he was doing it smugly.

"You know," He said after a few minutes, "If that's all you're bitching about, we can just get it over with."

"Excuse me?"

"You and me. Target's not coming in for another six hours, by the way. You don't need that much time do you, 'four-years-dry'?"

You stared at him from across the room. When you didn't reply, Peacemaker set his screen down so damn casually you consider just shooting yourself in the head.

"You're off your game. I'm not going to let you compromise our objective."

You threw your hands up. "There it is. You're like a broken record."

"What? Am I fucking wrong?"

"No, you're fucking crazy."

"Get over here." Smith instructed in a low voice.

The words shot up your spine, sending a very mixed signal to your brain. Directly across from you, Peacemaker was pinning you with an expectant look— One that was clearly a challenge. It pissed you off.

It was the look he used when he said you couldn't rip a guy's spine right out of his back— It dared you. And when you did succeed, you would shoot him an equally smug look in return. Your back and forths were always crass, always a test of who would back down.

You weren't normally so brutal when you worked alone, but something about Peacemaker brought it out of you. Whenever you were paired together, it was like your powers weren't something you had to hold back. They were something he was always prodding you to embrace. The jabs, the snark— It made you want to punch him in the face.

Standing up, you crossed the room. Smith didn't move as you stepped over his legs, as you leaned down to straddle his waiting lap. He simply watched you shift around until you're comfortably seated, your hands resting on his shoulders. He moved to place his own on your thighs but didn't do anything more.

"Well?" You said.

He shrugged, "Your call."

"What am I gonna do? Dry hump you?"

"Hey, if that's what it takes."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Fuck."

Finally, you reached up, unclipping the back of your mask.

"Whoa, wait—" He started, finally reacting to this ridiculous situation, but you already had it off, in your hand.

"I—" He stared at you. You shifted, feeling nervous as you stared back. It occurred to you that you'd never seen him shocked before.

He blinked. "I've never seen your whole face before."

That wasn't true— was it? You tried to think. "What about in Cuba? We camped out for like three days. I had to take it off to eat at least."

"I didn't look."

"You didn't look."

"I don't fucking know! You wear that fucking thing everywhere. When you took it off to eat I assumed you didn't want me looking."

"Wow. How courteous."

"Fuck you."

"Well, isn't that what we're doing here?" You said, putting your hands on your hips stubbornly. Smith's were still resting on your splayed thighs.

"I can't wear this when we— How am I supposed to...?"

He snorted softly, "Don't tell me you're a romantic, [L/n]."

Nothing about this seemed romantic. Least of all with him. Still, if you were going to take the opportunity, you were going to do it your way. You looked him over.

He had a few tufts sticking out from wearing his damn helmet earlier. You reached up and brushed some of it back into place at his temple first. Smith blinked up at you, his brows pinching together.

"This okay?" You heard yourself asking him. He eventually nodded once, watching you as you placed your palm on the side of his face. Finally, you leaned down and caught his lips with yours in a long kiss. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to know his reaction.

But you felt him return it. Slowly at first— Then he was kissing you back. You moaned somewhere in the back of your throat as he ran his large hands up and down your legs, his fingers folding to grip your ass tightly. You were already reacting, already so touched starved. His lips parted, and you felt him swipe his tongue across your bottom lip, over the front of your teeth. You opened for him, your tongue darting out to meet his hungrily.

You tugged at the front of his uniform. Without a word he reached down to pull it up over his head, the fabric dropping off somewhere beside you. You glanced down at his bare chest. You ran your hands over it, dragged your nails down his pecs experimentally. When you looked back up he was still watching you.

Your mouths crashed to meet again, this time with a fervor that threatened to split your bottom lip with every bruising kiss. You felt his hands on you again, pressing into your sides, your waist. He didn't move to take off your clothes, so you drew your hands to your own chest, pulled the zipper of your suit all the way down to your stomach.

He took the invitation, and you gasped when he roughly reaches in and cups a hand around your breast; He kneaded it, brushing his thumb over your nipple. His other hand worked at your shoulder, yanking the rest of your suit off of you. You reached back and tugged the sleeves off, finally exposing your upper body.

You felt the clasp at your back come undone, and Smith was tearing your bra off next. A muscular arm came around to scoop you up by the waist, bringing your chest closer to him. He leaned down, took one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Smith—" He bit you roughly, and it sent a shock of electricity up you. He palmed your other breast again, tweaked at your nipple until your back was arching into his touch. You squeezed your thighs around him.

Then he was back in your face again, bruising a kiss against your lips as you took a breath. Your eyes flew open when you felt the press of his fingers to your mouth. You shot a look at him, but didn't object when he pushed his index and middle fingers past your lips. You sucked them hungrily, your eyes fluttering shut again.

"Fuck," Peacemaker murmured, feeling your tongue swirl around the digits. You slurped sloppily until they were soaked, until he was pulling them back out with a light pop. He brought his hand down to the base of your suit, where the zipper stopped just above your pelvis. A pair of black panties peaked out from the V shape there, the same shade and material as your bra. You gasped when Smith finally pushed down past the layer of cotton, gripped his bare shoulders when you felt his wet fingers dip right into your cunt.

"Fuck," He said again, because you didn't need any help down there. "You're so fucking wet."

You expected to feel humiliation— To hear a joke about how it really had been while. But all you felt were his warm, thick fingers; He ran them up and down your slit, pressed them in small circles around the peak of you a few times. You cursed, your head falling back. Smith leaned up to kiss your throat, teeth dragging across the base of your collarbone. He bit you some more, daring to take your meta-human skin between his teeth. You cried out, your arm reaching to wrap around his head in pleasure.

Smith slid his fingers up into your pussy. He crooked them, scissoring them inside you. Your hips bucked, unable to resist meeting his short thrusts. You felt him grin against your neck. "Damn, baby."

"Shut up." You whispered, letting your hips rolling down to fuck yourself on his fingers some more. When he slipped in a third you moan loudly.

"Fuck! Fuck me." You demanded, yanking the short hair at the back of his head. A groan left Smith's lips, his head jerking back. Quickly, he removed his hand from your suit, pulling the rest of your clothes further down your waist. You lifted yourself off him, but Smith didn't wait. He picked you up and lifted you both off the floor. You grabbed at him as he laid you down on your back, his body between your legs. Then he was ripping off the last of your suit, tearing your boots off.

"Watch it," You snapped— If he fucking ripped anything you—

"Oh please." He huffed, and your thoughts stopped in their tracks as you watched him lean back on his knees above you, undoing his white pants. His cock sprang free from a pair of just as white underwear, his arousal already thick and ready. You stopped yourself from expressing how the sight of him made you even wetter.

He took a moment to drink in your face, a hint of that smug smirk forming. You growled, pulling him down by the neck again before he ruined the moment with speaking. Smith caught your lips again, his hand running down your naked body. He gripped one of your legs and nudges them apart, planting his knees between you.

Despite his earlier preparation, it was nothing compared to the feeling of his cock pushing inside you. You groaned as he entered you, your walls stretching around his length. Your back arched as you took him in, eyes rolling a little into the back of your head.

"Fuck— Chris—" You shuttered. His hands squeezed your thighs at the sound of his name leaving you. You heard his breath shake, his hips remaining utterly still as you got used to the size of him. Opening your eyes, you looked up to see him waiting for you; You nodded once, another moaning already escaping in anticipation.

It was like a brick wall knocking into you. Smith didn't hold back as he began fucking you— Knew you could take it— what with your powers and all. The idea seemed to drive him, and he began hammering into you, his hands moving to bracket your hips so he could fuck you better. Faster. Your legs wrapped around his waist.

Fuck— You couldn't think. You arched up off of the floor as you rolled your hips to meet Smith's. It felt like he could keep up this pace forever the way he wasn't stopping. Your breathing turned to panting, a high whine escaping you when he shifts just right— he picked you up again. You arched up into his arms, holding yourself up from around his neck as he fucked up into your soaking cunt. You bounced on his cock, a sheen of sweat blooming across your skin.

When you opened your eyes, Smith was still watching you intently— witnessing every little expression on your face while he fucked you. You could hardly discern what he was thinking. All you could focus on was him ramming you, the feeling of his cock hitting and stretching you out.

“Choke me.” He said, and you have just enough wherewithal to oblige. You wrapped your hand around his throat, pressing firmly on either side. You felt the tightness of his skin shifting under your touch. His pulse beat a fast rhythm in time with his rough thrusts. The strength of your grip was a little vice tipping Smith over the edge.

The look on his face, his eyes closed as he tried to control his breathing sends a jolt up you. You used your other hand to slip two fingers down between your folds. They found your clit, making quick work of bringing you to close to climaxing. You shuttered as you felt the tight coil of it building. Finally, with a cry you were coming, squeezing your legs around him as your hips rolling through every wave of it. Smith groaned, picking up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm until your walls were fluttering from the unrelenting stimulation.

“Going to—“ He warned, and you squeezed the hand around his throat harder, making his eyes roll up. You whimpered as you feel the hot spurt of him fill you, his hips finally locking as he pumped you with his cum.

You both took a moment to catch your breath, your hand releasing from Smith’s neck so he could take in a long gasp. His skin was reddened along his throat and chest. You saw the beginnings of your handprint bruising around his Adam's apple, your fingers a mark on his skin. You hung onto him like that, your arms back around his shoulders for balance.

“Fuck.” You finally said. Out of habit, you checked your watch to assess where you were on the mission. He took your chin in his hand, drawing your eyes back up to him. You saw that his hair had fallen back into his eyes, his face glistening with sweat.

“I’m not done with you.” He said. It sent a shiver through you. You felt your walls flutter again, some of his cum leaking out with his half-hard cock still firm inside you. You gasped as he pulled you off of him, guiding you down until you were turning around on all fours on the floor. You glanced over your shoulder, already craving the feeling of him filling you up with his cock again.

And fuck it, you two do take the whole six hours.

[dreamgrlarchive]

Self Care 101 🦋

In this post I’ll be outlining my current routines as they relate to self care. I’ll cover everything from head to toe making sure not to skip your spirit. You cannot be a girl of ANYONE’S dreams if you aren’t taking care of the most important person in your world: you.

mornings:

wash face with gentle cleanser from curology, tone with organic Mamonde rose water and finish with rich moisturizer and spf30

brush teeth with activated charcoal toothpaste by Crest and baking soda for whitening and gum clarity

take vitamins : woman’s one a day, hair skin nails, biotin, vitamin c

drink glass of water then a cup of tea

black tea, raw cane sugar, a lemon slice, ginger

good for energy, immune function, and detox

showers:

this may sound so extra (😅), but depending on my hairstyle, I sometimes like to let the shower run for about five minutes with the door closed to create a sauna effect. this is especially if I have a mask on my hair.

my showers usually are about 20-30 minutes

I have a back brush, pink exfoliating gloves, a loofah, and tree hut body scrubs and I use them ALL.

I wash first with my dove beauty bar to assure clean skin before washing with EITHER my OGX Shea So Soft body wash or Dove Renewing Peony and Rose Oil body wash to add scent or silkiness to my skin.

hair removal:

I haven’t yet mastered the art of waxing myself so I’m still riding the shave wave. *when I do I’ll make a post 4 that*

I exfoliate throughly before AND after shaving

I shave my entire body using Tree Hut Shaving Oil and a nice conditioner I’m not using. This leaves my skin super soft and silky and helps the razor to glide without skipping. I use Gillette Venus. no less than five blades, anything less is ASKING for nicks and a hard time.

when I don’t feel like shaving, I use Nair. use at your own risk. yes, I Nair my ENTIRE BODY. only leaving it on for about 7 minutes I rinse in WARM (not hot) water and exfoliate afterwards. it is imperative to moisturize after to avoid irritation. however, Nair is much easier to do than shaving and seems to last an inkling longer.

after shaving, once a month, I pull out my KENZZI. it’s an IPL device and it has helped to slow the growth of my hair. it’s noticeable for us long, thick haired chicks. I use the second to lowest setting as a melanated babe, as the higher settings could burn me.

I know many endorse the hair on women movement and I can understand it. But I personally love my skin silky, hairless, and smooth.

nights:

after eating dinner, I wash my face and apply the tiniest bit of glycolic serum and my curology night cream. my skin has been the best it’s been in a few years. then I brush my teeth and rinse with peroxide.

every four days I give myself a facial

my favorite face masks:

The Ordinary Salicylic Acid mask

The Ordinary AHA + BHA mask

all Tony Moly sheet masks *luvvvvv those*

GLAMGLOW SUPERMUD clearing treatment *fav*

Peter Thomas Roth Pumpkin Enzyme mask

Peter Thomas Roth Cucumber Gel mask

Peter Thomas Roth Irish Moor Mud mask

Peter Thomas Roth Rose Stem Cell Bio-Repair Gel mask

ORIGINS Clear Improvement mask

An at home honey and aloe mask

I apply a rich facial moisturizer and get to bed.

I then write in my planner my new plans and what I did that day if I hadn’t already. then after that I script and make mood boards in my diary. then I read a little. currently reading: Making Faces by Kevyn Aucoin, and Live Like a hot Chick by Jodi Lipper.

emotions:

I talk to my grandmother about my feelings, she helps me sort things out. please try to find one person you trust to talk to, my messages are always open. 💓 I often overthink. I suffer from anxiety and clinical depression. sometimes these things make me FEEL limited. these experiences wax and wane. I remind myself that the darkness is temporary.

I write in my diary what I feel and track my emotions for potential patterns. I don’t manufacture or sugar coat my feelings, I just talk.

sometimes you need a good cry. let it out. clean your slate. you’ll always feel better, sometimes great after a hard, deep sobbing cry.

I try to get out of the house and get some sunlight. it helps brighten my mood sometimes.

baths:

LOVE taking baths I don’t care what the status quo is about dirt. just rinse off. I love wrapping my hair up and soaking in warm-hot water.

first I run the water. as it’s running I add my bubble bath, then body wash, then my Shea Moisture fragrant coconut oil. it smells soooo good, literally yummy. then I inevitably scream from dipping my toe in the hot water. finally I get in, scrub down my body, emphasis on feet. then I wash, and just relax. I’ve even fallen asleep in the tub once, I was so zen.

careful not to soak too long or overdo it with your products. synthetic materials lingering in your lady bits for too long cause cause infections like bv or uti

some women add tea tree oil, acv, or even Aztec clay to their baths for wellness purposes. I love adding essential oils to my baths to relax and the natural scent is just great 🥺

when I get out I always put something that feels lush and soft on. *invest in super soft, comfy bath towels, they’ll make you feel so luxurious and soft after a nice relaxing bath*

flower:

the yoni is something sensitive that needs to be taken care of thoroughly, and differently than the rest of your body. it’s not recommended to use soaps down there, it can unbalance things and make you itch. also make you prone to infection. this is why I use clear warm water to clean. if I use soap it’s a sensitive, gentle formula. don’t ever try to clean the cavity. she’s a self cleaning vessel.

to shave, I trim my hair down as close as possible and use a FIVE BLADE razor with conditioner and take my time. making sure not to pass a spot twice, I apply moderate pressure and move slowly. when finished I rinse and scrub gently. I PAT not rub dry. to finish off I apply TendSkin, and salicylic acid to avoid ingrowns. once that’s soaked in I apply shea butter. very soft and pretty 🌸

⚠️ DO NOT PUT ON TIGHT PANTIES OR RIGHT PANTS AFTER SHAVING. it restricts the hairs and causes irritation and ingrowns. throw on some comfy loose shorts for a while, let it breathe

dietary needs:

drink plenty of water

cranberry juice

vitamin c

minimal red meat

probiotics

at home vagacial for the high maintenance girlies:

*make any necessary extractions with pointed and slanted tweezers *

scrub: 

brown sugar, tea tree oil, a little shea butter

exfoliating and anti inflammatory

mask:

baking soda, fresh lemon juice, vitamin e oil, papaya juice, gelatin

fixes discoloration and brightens the skin while softening

moisturize:

aloe vera gel, rose hip seed oil

smelling sweet:

ah yes, my favorite part. I love fragrance so much. I love to smell like you could literally break off a piece of me and eat it.

I find that using fragrant washes and oils make your scent more strong and help it linger. I already mentioned the body washes I use. the tree hut scrubs I use smell amazing also. I alike to add essential oils and man made scents like strawberry and chocolate to my Shea Moisture oil (so yummy).

I also use a fragrant lotion, eau de parfum, and fragrance mist.

here’s a list of some of my favorites:

perfumes:

jimmy choo fever

coach floral blush

yves saint laurent mon paris

victoria’s secret bombshell

victoria’s secret scandalous

valentino

fragrance mists:

victoria’s secret velvet petals, pure seduction, warm and cozy

bath and body works a thousand wishes, fiji pineapple palm, warm vanilla sugar, black raspberry vanilla

oils:

coconut

sweet almond

peppermint

chocolate scented essential oil

strawberry scented essential oil

orange

grapefruit

eucalyptus

sweetest combo ever:

vanilla extract, coconut oil, shea butter, and your favorite perfume. you’ll be smelling like a warm cupcake with extra sprinkles and icing 🧁

layering:

oil, lotion, eau de parfum, mist

pulse points:

inside elbows and knees, in between thighs, inner arms, behind ears, back of neck, ankles

hair:

it’s super important to keep your hair moisturized. quenched tresses move, grow, shine and bounce. dry hair is limp, lackluster, and extremely fragile

my fav diy deep conditioner:

a banana, half an avocado, three spoons of honey, an egg, a spoonful of mayo, a spoonful of coconut, olive, and castor oil each

strength from egg, avocado, mayo and olive oil

moisture from avocado and honey

cover damp CLEAN hair and scalp in mixture and cover with a plastic bag, then towel for an hour, rinse thoroughly, and seal in moisture

fav hair products:

castor oil

fusionplex conditioner and mask

Aussie conditioner

wella goji berry mask

coconut oil

style booster edge control

helpful tips:

when shampooing, concentrate on the scalp and wash thoroughly twice, as the suds will naturally cleanse your stands without drying and stripping them

rinse hair with apple cider vinegar every now and then. it restores your ph balance, smooths the cuticle, clarifies the strands, and adds shine

always add oil and leave ins to DAMP hair, never dry; this will ensure you’re sealing in moisture

try to use smooth fabrics to dry your hair, bath towels encourage frizz and breakage

hands and feet:

and last but not least, let’s cover manicuring and pedicuring.

it’s super important to make sure your nails are either DONE or filed, shaped, and smooth. at home maintenance is super easy. make a point to scrub your hands and feet well when bathing. make sure to stay on top of your cuticles by trimming or pushing them back. I like the look that pushing them gives. I use an orangewood stick, metal pusher and cuticle softener to make the process super easy and safe. after I’m done I add my pineapple scented cuticle oil. I do this on my fingers and toes.

invest in a rasp and pumice stone for your feet and use these gently every two weeks after soaking them in warm foot salts. rough usage can cause cuts and irritation. in between treatments keep your feet soft by slathering them in a moisturizing foot cream, cocoa/shea butter then oil to seal it all in. buy some soft thick aloe infused socks and wear them to sleep. you’ll thank me 😉

for info on how I do my nails click this

well, that’s all I’ve got. I truly hope you enjoyed my post! it’s always fun sharing my advice with you all. any feedback is appreciated and question is welcomed ♡

[keilemlucent]

mother knows best

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~4.6k

keigo’s dick catches up with him in the form of a fat, red strap

warnings: daddy kink, subby hawks, mean reader, lingerie, pegging, dumbification (a wittle), dacryphilia, revenge sex, degradation, keigo’s a cock slut ❤️

...

oh wow so this is actually a wip from all the way back in august!! i got some good inspo, so enjoy some subby hawks goodness loveys <3

You wanted nothing more than fucking ruin Keigo.

He’d been a shit lately, more annoying than usual. Fuck, you’d even say that he had been a downright brat.

It was obviously somewhat endearing, getting bent over countertops, teased through your clothes and getting left wet and wanting as he would just so happily walk away, whistling triumphantly to himself. 

Or, maybe, it was how at the recent Hero’s Gala, Keigo had dragged you into one of the hotel’s lavish bathrooms, meters away from his colleagues and shoved you up against the large dressing mirror, his bulge shoved against your ass, whispering about how he was going to shred your dress from your frame. 

“You just look too good, babe,” Keigo’s hands raked up and down your chest, nearly pulling your breasts from the delicate fabric of your dress. 

You’d pleaded with him, “I get that you’re horny, but this really isn’t the place.”

You still let him fuck your mouth to orgasm.

Twice.

He’d been at least nice enough to help you wipe the smears of the professionally done makeup from your face.

“Sorry,” Keigo spoke with a smile, thumbing away a run of mascara from under your eyes as you sat on the edge of the sink. “You did great though. You were so beautiful for me, angel. So sexy. ”

You frowned, grabbing his hand and pulling it away from your face, meeting his eye with an uncomfortable amount of intensity. 

“Keigo.”

He blinked.

“Yeah?”

You felt his palms begin to sweat in your grip.

You smiled, something eerily dark.

“How do you feel you’ve been lately?”

You watched his throat bob, his keen mind going just where you wanted it to. As much as you loved indulging in Keigo’s insatiable, unstoppable, carnal need to bend your back until it broke, you were also very tired of the attitude he’d gotten from it lately. 

“I think...” Keigo wet his lips, pressing between your spread legs from your perch, “I think I’ve been good.”

“You do?!” You repeated, laughing a bit as you squeezed your thighs around Keigo’s trim waist. You grabbed his cheeks between your thumb and middle finger, forcing his gaze to be on your messy, smeared face. “I didn’t think my ‘good boy’ was such a fucking dumbass.”

A whimper dripped from the back of his throat as you frowned, knowing how quickly being taken down a peg got him hot and bothered.

“You’ve jumped my ass without any regard for circumstances how many times in the last week?” You sneered, digging your nails into baby fat above his jaw. “Did you think about the consequences of your actions, babe?”

Keigo let out a deep breath, “Angel, I—”

You fully grabbed his cheeks and jaw, squeezing his lips puckered, “What did you just call me?”

His eyes went wide, hands tensing on the tops of your thighs.

“If I let you speak, are you going to do so properly?” You relished the frantic nod he tried to give you.

You dropped your hand to the front of his dress shirt, hooking your fingers into the top of his tie, “Speak then.”

“I’m sorry, mommy,” Keigo’s eyes went big and doughy, refusing to look at you. 

“That’s better,” You hummed, playing with the silky fabric. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, okay, sweetheart?”

He forced his gaze up to yours.

“We’re gonna go back out there, smile for the cameras, and then head home and get some good sleep.”

“B-but aren’t you going to p-punish—” Keigo words were gluey and slow, giving you all the more reason to interrupt him, even going so far as to shift to tighten his tie around his neck, perhaps a bit too constricting.

“I will, when the time is right. You just try to be a good boy until then, see you actually can.”

A filthy, but very fun plan was brewing in your head. It just would take some time.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

The opportune time struck a few weeks later. Though Keigo had at first been on some better behavior, he reverted to his typical, bratty self a week after your threat was made.

You were just biding your time, besides, custom orders took some time.

It wasn’t hard to contact Keigo’s PA, requesting his measures for ‘unknown’ purposes. 

What was harder was wading through the hundreds of beautiful designs you could order for him. You spent a good few hours scrolling and fantasizing about what colors and patterns Keigo’s pretty, lithe body would look best in. After beating one out, you made your decision, entered his measurements, and sent the order off. It might’ve been the fervor of hot pleasure you had, but you threw in an extra item or two to your purchase. You were spoiling yourself, really. 

Three weeks later, it arrived, perfect in every way, along with the extra items.

Then, it was just about watching Keigo and waiting to strike.

...

He came in late one night, feathers all but bare, uniform muddled.

As Keigo fell on the bed following his shower, you took note of his downy stubs, bare of most of his usual feathers. You grinned something wicked. 

Tomorrow was the day.

Keigo crawled up to you, immediately pulling your back to his chest, peppering your shoulders with kisses before drifting off. You turned to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, hoping he’d get enough rest to be ready for all you had planned.

...

The next morning, Keigo lumbered out of bed while you were finishing your coffee on the couch, already donned in your business casual attire (with some additions, but he couldn’t see those yet). 

“Hey, angel,” His voice was scratchy with sleep as he plopped down next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “How’d you sleep?”

“I slept super good,” You smiled, returning his sweet gesture. “How about you?”

“Good, very good. I’m just glad I have a day off.” Keigo relaxed into the cushions. He flexed the roughly two-foot-long stubs of crimson feathers, “Gotta grow these back out, and that means I’m relaxing all day.”

You grinned, the pieces of your plan having perfectly fallen into place.

“I’m very glad, sweetheart,” You gave him a fleeting kiss before standing up and heading back to the bedroom. 

Keigo called after you, “Where’re you off to, angel? I wanna give you some love before you gotta leave me.”

“One sec! I just gotta get my shit together for work,” You purred back knowingly. Your purse was already packed and ready. You had other traps to lay.

Flitting into the closet, you rummaged through a small set of drawers to retrieve one of the several packages you received. It was a clean, white box, about half the size of a pillow, wrapped in red ribbon. 

You laid it on the freshly made bed, adjusting some of the satins as you did. 

Keigo beamed at you as you exited to the living room, sauntering up and wrapping his hands around your waist to kiss your forehead. 

He stiffened when he felt the straps beneath your work blouse.

“Angel?” He squeezed your waist. 

You smirked, kissing the corner of his mouth before gently cupping his jaw, “Now, sweetheart, can you be a good boy for me today?”

Keigo, the sweet thing he was, turned to putty in your hands.

He nodded, his bottom lip poking out. 

“Good,” You tightened your grip on his jaw. “You have a lot to make up for, considering what a brat you’ve been lately.”

The way Keigo trembled in your hold, cheeks hot, made your head spin with your ideas for the evening. 

“You didn’t forget, did you?” You walked him back, only stopping when his ass hit the kitchen table. He jumped when he slid just the slightest bit back, forced to sit. 

“F-forget what?” Keigo genuinely couldn’t remember, based off the quirk in his brow.

You clicked your tongue, shifting a knee between his legs, “At the Gala. Use your brain, sweetheart.”

His expression fell with the revelation. 

Your punishments were never easy. Very fun, but god, they were excruciating. 

Watching the expression on Keigo’s face drift as he worked out the context of your actions made you shiver. You were sure he’d be a brat later, but catching him off guard always made him particularly weak to your touch.

“Now, baby, I was nice enough to leave a pretty present for you in our room.” You pinch his plump bottom lip between your fingers, “When I get home, I want you on the bed all dolled up for me, understand?”

He swallowed, nodding against your hold as enthusiastically as he could manage.

“Good.” You released him, kissing the indent that your nails left. “I’ve got to get going, but I love you lots, okay?”

Keigo was comically stunned with a very noticeable bulge in his boxers, “I l-love you too.”

You throw your purse over your shoulders, smug at your ability to turn Keigo into obedient mush. 

As you opened the door to leave, you were gracious enough to shout and remind him, “Oh, and sweetheart? Be a good boy and don’t you dare touch yourself today, or I’ll make tonight far worse for you. Have a good day off, love!”

...

The moment you left the apartment, Keigo let out a tight breath.

Holy fuck.

He really thought he’d get to spend the day relaxing and letting his wings regrow, but as it turned out, you had far better plans for the two of you and Keigo didn’t have the mind to fight it.

Not yet, anyway.

He’d give you shit later. It was fun to push you around, in any context.

When he was sure you were far out the door, he quickly padded to the bedroom, eyeing the box that lay on the duvet.

Slipping onto the sheets, he kneeled and pulled it closer. He rubbed at the ribbon, frowning. 

The two of you had used toys and...  devices plenty of times, tending to each other, just in different ways. But, when Keigo picked up the parcel, it seemed far too light to have any sort of toy in it.

Keigo frowned, slipping off the satin and pulling off the lid.

...

Oh fuck.

Inside, neatly packaged with crisp tissue paper, was a carefully folded set of clothes. Special clothes, notably.

This became abundantly clear as Keigo carefully pulled the mesh and lace out of the box, blood rushing to his half-hard cock. 

It was an incredibly pretty set. Stockings, garters, even a ribbed bodice with lacey cups, all pale pink with gold embroidery and accents. 

It was pretty, but not your size at all.

As he pulled out the last item, a pair of satin and lace panties with extra fabric at the front, he realized that these were undoubtedly for him.

A hot blush sped to his cheeks as he stared down at the pretty mess in front of him. 

Sure, he’d talked about this kink to you in passing, but you’d never mentioned it and he’d never asked you to indulge him in it. 

However, it was quite clear that that was indeed what you were doing, giving him such a beautiful set. 

There was even a small card.

“Keigo, 

Despite the fact that you’ve been nothing but an ungrateful brat lately, 

I’ve been gracious enough to give you a sweet gift.

You’ll have to earn it tonight. 

Be good.

(Y/N) <3”

 Keigo stared down at the garments and the note, already far too hard to be comfortable.

It was hardly going to be a leisurely day off.

...

 You took the opportunity to torture Keigo just a little.

Honestly, you deserved it. With the way he’d been randomly dragging you into bathrooms, alleyways, and dressing rooms to wreck you, it was truly only fair that you got to wreck him. 

So, you started early.

You sent picture after picture to him throughout the day, stepping from your office to tease at your own special garments that hid just under your modest clothing. Keigo probably wouldn’t touch himself, knowing what that would cost him. Fucking with him throughout the day would just make your revenge that much sweeter. 

He was easy to get riled up, it was one of his biggest weaknesses when this dynamic came up. Keigo might’ve had the stamina to go for hours, but he didn’t have the heart or mind not to beg for it.

And god, by the end of reaching your own workday, straps feeling almost too tight and pussy dripping, you were more than ready to fuck Keigo up beyond belief.

 |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 “Kei’? I’m home!” You called as you came in the front door, slipping off your shoes and hanging your purse.

“I’m in here,” Keigo’s voice echoed from the bedroom.

Oh.

Perfect.

Your plan, long thought-out, had turned out perfectly. Now, you reaped the reward.

You were going to fucking ruin Keigo.

Destroy him.

If he wasn’t a shaking pile of cum and sweat when you were done with him, you’d just keep going. 

You strode to the bedroom, anticipating the sight before you with bated breath.

And god, did Keigo take yours away.

Like a ‘good boy’, he was just as you ordered him to be. 

He was kind enough to keep the lighting the room low, though he was more than visible and fucking gorgeous.

The lingerie set fit him beautifully, as you expected. The pink satin and lace stretched over his tanned skin so well, showing off the tone of his muscles and the swell of his light curves, as well as his already weeping bulge. 

He sat on his spread knees atop the bed, garters pulling tight over his upper thighs. The panties were maybe a bit small for Keigo’s fat cock, but seeing a bit of him peeking out was never a bad thing.

The bodice of the piece was truly beautiful. It was ribbed, a blushing pink and had small threads of golden stitching accenting the lace work. The cups of the piece were pressed to Keigo’s hardened, pierced nipples, the fabric undoubtedly teasing the skin raw (not that you didn’t plan on getting them such a way yourself.) 

“Oh, baby,” You sigh, a light, genuine smile coming to your face. “You look beautiful.”

Keigo must’ve already been pretty deep in it, ducking his head and biting his lip, “Thank you, mommy.”

You smiled at his usage of the proper title, though none of your irritation or anger faded. It was only a few drops of water on a much hotter burn. 

You walked up to the bed, leaning over the end of it to tilt up his face to yours, “Kei’, what’s your safeword?” 

“Quill,” He leaned into your touch, stubbly cheeks brushing against your palms. 

Nodding to yourself, you stepped back from him. Watching Keigo was like observing a moving piece of fine art, the shadows and highlights of his body crafted by some finer being than you. You were just there to tend to him, use him and bend him in the ways you knew he craved.

You fetched the last two parcels from the closet, setting them onto the nearby dresser. Close by and in-sight, teasing the two of you.

 You turned, directly regarding Keigo. He must have been watching you move about the room, eyes rounded and knees spread just right.

“So, tell me, Kei’,” You hummed approaching the bed while popping the buttons on your work blouse. “Have you been a good boy lately?”

His fingers stiffened over the lace of the stockings, stubs twitching behind him, “I... don’t think so.”

You hummed, fully peeling off your top, “Wow, so someone’s finally got some sense to himself now? Mommy’s proud, but it’s a little too late for that.”

Keigo audibly swallowed now that you were barer to him.

Your set was a leather of some sort, black straps adorning and squeezing your frame and flesh in the best ways, linked by o-rings and pretty buckles. If Keigo was in a different mood, he would have half a mind to tug you close by the ring dangling between the slope of your breasts. 

But he wasn’t, he was mommy’s good, sweet brat, and that meant sitting and shutting up unless he wanted this to be worse for himself.  

You tapped your hip, over the slim zipper to your skirt.

“Unzip.” 

Keigo nodded, too quick and too eager as his shaking hands slid the zipper over the curve of your hip.

You stepped back before Keigo could get too much satisfaction from the action, shimming the skirt down your legs—

And the set you had on top kept going.

Garters and black stockings settled over your thighs, perfectly fitted and perfect for you and your perfect body, Keigo just wanted a taste—

You slapped his hand down onto the bed, holding it there and leaning forward with a sickly syrupy smile, “I thought you said you knew you were being a brat, baby boy? Wouldn’t that mean you know not to push your fucking luck—?” 

You left his hand on the duvet with an order to not move it, to which he complied.

And you slipped back over to the dresser, unfurling your last parcels. 

Rope and a pretty new toy.

He didn’t deserve them, they were for you.

The new harness was perfect, custom made to your size, so it sat perfectly over the curves of your thighs and ass. It looked even better when you attached the curved, thick strap to it.

“Is that—”

“For you?” You finished Keigo’s sentence with a click of your tongue. “Maybe. Maybe I’ll just suck on that cute little cock of yours until you’re fucked dry. Maybe, I would let you near my dick. Or, you learn to be a good boy like you say you are—”

You grabbed his jaw in one hand and squeezed, “And you’ll get mommy’s pretty strap?”

...

To his merit, Keigo really, really was being good. 

Each expression of his was just so, so delicious, and that wasn’t even taking into account the beautiful ways his body arched and writhed below you. 

What would the public think if they knew ‘Hawks’ was fucking mama’s boy who craved nothing more than getting stuffed with thick cock and edged until he was crying sweet, sweet tears?

Who knows! You didn’t, and you didn’t fucking care. 

You’d stuffed Keigo with a cute plug as prep, one with a glittering, yellow gem that just looked so good between his pert little ass cheeks. The new rope was put to use as well. Though, the knots were kept mainly to his arms and wrists. The new lingerie was too pretty to hide. You had tied the intricate knots and binds torturously slowly, as you’d be so kind as to attach a small, vibrating egg to the tip of his dick. 

Though, the first thing you did was lock a cock ring at his base with the promise that he ‘wouldn’t be cumming until he was screaming’. 

You had him under you, tits squished to his ribs. Your thighs slotted on the sides of his braced and squeezing him just enough so he knew not to dare to try and move with your word. 

You smeared lube up and down his angrily red cock, thumbing the head. The slick and pre slipped down and stickied his balls and the roughed-up panties tucked beneath. 

Keigo was a fucking mess for it. Whining and gasping with each breath for little, reverent pleas— ‘more, more, more—’ 

His wrists were tied together, pale pink rope making flushed marks against his heat softened skin. They were secured high on the bed, pulling his body taut and flat against the sheets.

You nipped at one of his pierced nipples, tugging the tender bar with your teeth with little regard for how Keigo squealed again. 

Each sound had you dripping, just as needy and wanting as your sweet, sweet boy, but you’d be damned to let it be as apparent as his wanting.

Keigo was a goddamn sight. 

Blond waves stuck to his forehead and temples, cheeks red and lips bitten to cherry. His mouth hung open, drool spilling from the corner and soaking the pillow you graciously kept under his head. 

(Only because you’d ridden his face for a good while prior, and you were such a nice mommy, you gave him a nice cushion while you let him tongue fuck you to another orgasm.)

“M-mommy,” Keigo’s voice shook. “Please.”

You tsked. 

“Disappointing, sweet boy,” You chastised, lightly. Keigo had already wept hard enough, you didn’t need to push much more before he cracked just as you wanted. “You know to beg better.”

Keigo choked on a sob, something that made his bound, stubby wings shudder and writhe against the sheets.

“But, I-I already have,” Keigo sputtered, tugging on the bindings and breathing hard as you toyed with the ring at the base of his swollen cock. “Please.”

He deserved it, all the teasing and sweet torture, considering what a bastard he’d been in the past week. 

“Needy and you’re talking back?” You rolled your eyes. “So what, you want me to ride your cock? That’s too good for you.”

“‘T-too good for me,’” Keigo repeated, tearfully, stomach shaking with the way he was still trying to holding back.

He just needs to let go. Be the shameless cock slut he is. 

“Guess I’ll just fuck that cute little ass of yours until I’m satisfied.”

Keigo gulped as you helped him onto his tummy, bound hands freed from the headboard to brace below him. His back arched, a practice ‘c’ curve that you made dip deeper with a press to the small of back.

“Do better,” You reminded him, cruelly. He stifled another sob, nodding.

He shrieked as you eased the lubed plug from his ass. You poured a gracious amount over the red strap-on, admiring it. 

It was thick, it’d be a stretch and would press deep enough to knock Keigo out if you so chose.

Good.

As much as Keigo loved fucking you hard and fast, wherever and whenever he pleased, he needed this sometimes. A bit of handful (or so) of mean words, and a thick cock to fuck him full and dumb.

“Baby boy,” You cooed, tapping the toy over his blushing bottom. “You ready? Or should we wait—”

The impatient bastard. 

“No, no, no,” Keigo sputtered against the sheets. “I c-can’t mommy, I can’t—”

“Can’t what, baby?”

“I can’t wait!”

It was the concept of waiting any longer for your fat cock that sent him sobbing into the bedding, hiccuping and writhing. 

Keigo, the sweet thing he was, sagged and fell apart. Breaking good and proper, coherency gone. 

You guided him through it, good and proper. 

Truthfully, Keigo had been put through it. The sudden expectations, having him wait his entire day off, tempted by your skimpy little photos. And when you finally deemed him worthy of you, it was just to tease him and pretty cock for a few hours just to let off some of your own steam was cruel. 

But Keigo had been bad, and loved getting used when you both needed it.

His tears must’ve felt damn good, considering when you reached under his hips (while rubbing tender little circles over his spine) his cock was harder than ever, leaking and wet with need.

He seized beneath you, sputtering little ‘n-no’s and ‘p-please’s mixed with his weeping. He twitched in your hand as you ran the pad of your finger around the ring at its base.

“I could take this off,” You mused, pressing the tip of the strap against his hole. “Or—” 

With a slow grind of your hips, you stretched him wide and trembling. 

Keigo’s cries got louder, deeper and rougher as he clasped his hands in their binds. Bent over his body, you teased his cock with a light hand, humming as you nonchalantly fucked him to the hilt of the strap.

“Now, sweet boy,” You nudge your hips flush to his, just barely shifting “If I take this off, can you come for me? I need you to cum for me as much until you can’t anymore. Can you be a good boy?”

After a moment of sniffling, he nodded, “Yes, m-mommy.”

You flicked the clasp on the ring, discarding it and rolling your hips.

And Keigo instantly came. 

With all of that build-up, he shuddered, wings writhing as his back bent harder as he drenched the sheets beneath the two of you.

“My good boy,” You hummed, petting between his wings as he rode it out. “Keep it up.”

And without relenting, you grabbed his wings for leverage and fucked him.

Maybe, it was a little cruel. 

Your pace was set hard and fast, tugging the feathery stubs and enjoying the feel of his round, downy feathers where you held the base. Your grip was the only thing keeping Keigo as he resisted collapsing.

You were nice enough to occasionally reach down and give Keigo a few quick pumps, just enough so he’d crest again, sticking your hand so well and thick. The cum was smeared onto the fatty round of his ass with a slap or two. 

As much as it was a damn treat to see Keigo so fucked up and fucked, you let up when his orgasms were still hot and harsh, but his cock was nearly dry. It hardly sputtered anything, drained and sticky and overstimulated beyond belief.

“N-no more, no more!” Keigo sputtered as he trembled and convulsed with a dry, painful orgasm, your hand still fisting the sore flesh on his cock. 

You knew him well enough to stop then.

Your hips stilled, breath labored, though nothing like Keigo’s teary, nearly-dry sobs. He slowly fell into the sheets, aching body falling with nothing left to give. 

Everything was slow for a moment. 

You pulled out, graciously slow and tender, mindful of his raw state.

With a few skillful tugs, his wrists were free and unbound. Weak arms and shaking hands grabbed for you, needy as ever, but still, you could indulge him. 

‘Mommy, m-mommy, please,” Keigo tried to tug you down into the soaked sheets as you unbuckled the harness from around your hips. 

You raised an eyebrow, “Still needy?”

Keigo choked on something between a sob and scream, nodding and needing. 

(Completely wrecked, just as you craved and planned. He really was good.)

Your heart softened, the energy in the air diffusing as you freed his wings, coaxing them to stretch out and release any remaining bottled up tension.

And you fell into the bed with him, tugging your sweet boy to your chest and peppering kisses over his salt-slicked cheeks.

“You were wonderful dear, my good, sweet boy,” You layered on the praise, enjoying how his shudders came from your words as opposed to the discarded cock. 

Keigo opened his cracked lips but quickly closed them, settling before nuzzling under your chin and practically purring as he came down.

You always knew that you did your job well when Keigo was fucked silent. 

|||||||||||||||

thank you for reading 💞 

ko-fi

[eat0crow]

I’ve been seeing an increasingly large amount of people get into fic binding lately, which is fucking amazing! I love each and every one of you guerilla publishers! With the history of fandom takedowns, purges, and the bull shit legislation corporations try and start every few years, it’s so good that fics are being given permanency. 

I’ve noticed that fic binders seem to be focused on longer fics, ones in the 50k onward range, which makes sense and is great because these fics absolutely deserve to be put into print! But, the thing is, my favorite fics have almost always been short one-shots, and no one seems to be talking about binding them.

So! I’m gonna show you how to bind short one-shots.

A couple of things before we get started, the method I’m going to show you is called saddle stitching, it works best for works between 5-20k. This method is affordable, utilizing things you most likely have already, and lasts years. (I have booklets that are literally a decade old and still holding strong.)

For longer works Coptic binding is my personal favorite, it’s not only affordable but also produces some beautiful spines. (Video talks about different types of string, but shows off some gorgeous spine work). If you have a little more money to spend on a project, I recommend hardcover binding. I don’t like perfect binding and while Japanese style binding is pretty it’s a nightmare on your margins.

 @armoredsuperheavy​ has an amazing list and perfect tutorial that has everything you need to know about bookbinding and typesetting . The tutorial goes into in-depth detail on exactly what you need to do every step of the way. The only thing I do differently when printing one-shots is that I only have one signature so I  print everything as one booklet. This orders the pages for you.

The most important thing you have to remember is to select flip on the short edge.

Also, add page numbers, trust me when I say it makes everything a world easier.

What I use:

Body text: Garamond 10.5

Meta information: Garamond 8

No gutter

A 1 inch top and bottom margin, and a .7 inch margin on both the inside and outside (Note: If your work is closer to 20k you’re going to need to account for page creep, so I recommend adjusting your outside margin to .9 and your inside margin to .5, this will even out when you cut)

What you’re going to need: 

Mircosoft word—Sorry, I know everyone uses google docs now, but you’re going to need Word in order to print this as a booklet. If you have Adobe Indesign you can use that too, but it’s more expensive.

Card stock or craft paper—Anything 75lbs or more.

Embroidery Floss and Needle. Super cheap compared—and if you have beeswax on hand—the exact same as bookbinding string.

Ruler

Scissors

Craft Knife

Nail file 

Index cards

Clips

Thumbtack

(Washi tape is an extra to add decoration and protect the string, though, if you really want to reinforce the spine duct tape is amazing.)

Okay! Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get started.

What you’re going to do is carefully fold your card stock and pages in half, ends flush together, running the edge of your ruler or bone folder, if you have one, over the crease. You’re then you’re going to start placing your pages inside the cover. To minimize page creep, each time you add a page, first push it in place with the needle, then go back over the crease with your ruler or bone folder. It should look like this when done—

You’re going to prep your booklet for sewing next.

What you’re going to do first is open the booklet up, make sure everything lines up as close to perfect as you can, then fold the index cards over the side of the book, to prevent the pages from creasing due to the clips. Then clip them in place to prevent wiggling and make the hole punching easier. Do this to all four sides.

Traditional saddle stitching uses three holes, and you can too, but I like to use seven because it maintains better tension. For my hole guide, I measure 1 and 1/4th of an inch up to my first hole—this leaves me about 1 and 1/4th of an inch between the bottom of my page and the seventh hole. From the first hole, everyone after that is measured 1 inch apart.

After you’ve measured everything, it’s time to jam the thumbtack through the marks you’ve made. The pages have a tendency to move as you do this, so it’s vitally important that all four sides are being held in place with those clips. (If you have an awl, cool beans, they work better.)

For the love of God do not put the crease between your thighs when you start hole punching. I know it’s easier, but learn from my dumbassery and don’t do it bitch!

You should have something like this—

Now it’s time to sew. Which, because I’m weird and love hand stitching, is my favorite part.

I use one strand of floss, folded over for a double-stranded effect. I find this works best because each hole is gone through twice, leaving a four-ply binding. When measuring how much string to use, my rule is double the length of the spine, triple if you’re feeling unsure.

Now traditionally you’re going to start from the inside outward, leaving your tail within the book. I like to leave my tail on the outward spine because I cover it with washi tape. What you’re going to do now, is go in through your 4th hole(Leave around two inches for a tail, more if this is your first time), out through 5, back in through 6, like this—

When you get to seven you're going to follow the same pattern until you get to hole 1, where you will turn and sew toward the middle. When you get to hole 3 for the second time, you’re going to double knot the tail to your string and cut off the ends.

A note about tension, it’s important that you maintain even tension throughout each hole, this takes practice, but it gets loads easier the more times you do it. You want your string to be tight, with just enough give to make closing the book easy. If you have too much tension, over time the strings will wear through the pages. Too little and the pages will move around inside the binding.

Essentially your sewing pattern will be: in 4, out 5, in 6, out 7, in 6, out 5, knot the end, in 4, out 3, in 2, out 1, in 2, out 3, knot.

It should look like this when done—

Now you might notice this along the edge of your book—

That’s page creep. Some people leave it, I cut it away. This is the biggest pain in the ass of the entire process, and I have yet to get a perfectly clean edge any time I’ve done. The only way to get that clean edge is with a guillotine, but I don’t have one, so this is where the craft knife comes in. (If you don’t have one, you can use a box cutter, provided the blade is fresh.)

What you’re going to do now is place your ruler along the edge of the paper you’re going to cut away. Pro-tip, I recommend cutting 1/16th of an inch into the card stock, 1/8th of an inch into the entire edge of the book so that each of your pages have the same starting point, like this—

Becuase my hands shake really bad when I apply tension to them, I stick my book under a sheet of glass, hold it down with a big old book, and use my body weight to keep everything in place.

It’s important that you go slow, cut page by page, and apply even tension from the top of the book down to the bottom.

Now if you’ve done this and still get these little fly aways—

Join the club! Fortunately, they’re really easy to get rid of and smooth out, just use your nail file to sand out the edge.

And that’s it! Congratulations, you’ve bound your very first book!! If you want to hide the spine add your tape, but if not, you’re done, my friend!

[audreydoeskaren]

Making a (somewhat) historically accurate 1930s cheongsam

It’s summer holiday for me already and I have plenty of free time, so I decided to try my hand at making a 1930s style cheongsam. I started this in freaking April and only finished now because of supplies ;3 I’ve never made any cheongsam from the 30s before so this is gonna be half tutorial half me trying to figure stuff out. I cannot guarantee 100% historical accuracy, although I try my best. I don’t think people will actually follow this and make a whole cheongsam, but if someone does, please tell me about it and feel free to ask any questions :D

You can read about 1930s Chinese fashion in this post.

The design

I wanted to make something glamorous that exaggerates some typical features of the 30s such as the wide, shiny binding, tall collar and drapey floor length skirt. I was heavily inspired by this one worn by 阮玲玉 Ruan Lingyu.

Source here

I’m gonna make something like this: short sleeves, floor length skirt, slits up to mid thigh (so I can show off my lace petticoat uwu), 厂字襟 (厂 shaped closure), with double row wide binding and a really tall collar with three buttons.

However, since I wasn’t able to find a similar fabric in my local fabric stores’ websites, I decided to go for a green polka dot cotton poplin which did exist in the 1930s and is also great for my budget. For the pankou, I chose elaborate floral ones for the collar and front closure and plain white 一字扣 yizikou for the side, a common historical practice. The binding will be made from green and white polyester satin; polyester did exist in the 30s as well and was a popular novelty choice. This cheongsam is for summer so it will be unlined, plus the poplin is stiff enough to hold its own shape.

Pattern drafting

Now, prior to the 1950s, cheongsam makers used 平裁 pingcai, the historical Chinese method of pattern making without any darts, tucks or shaped pattern pieces. The whole gown is cut as one continuous piece with the fabric folded over twice. By doing this, the center front, center back and shoulder would be on fold and have no seams. Unlike historical hanfu pieces which were very, very big and required additional front pieces, 30s cheongsam were slender and didn’t require them, meaning there is no 中缝 zhongfeng, center front seam. Instead, the front piece is cut open at the 大襟 dajin, the front closure. Since I don’t own any period originals, I cannot use their pattern, so I followed this tutorial on bilibili to draft my own. It’s in Chinese but I think you can still understand with her calculations and drawing. I have no idea if this is what people used back then, but the end result is pretty convincing and the idea is legit so I guess it’s alright. She did use a bust dart though, just ignore that.

So this is the finished pattern on paper. There is the main piece, the collar piece and the placket (which I will need two pieces of). The equations are from the tutorial, I don’t know why they are like that. There are no darts or tucks, and the main bodice is cut twice on fold. The overall length is 145cm and I’m 168cm tall so it should be just about floor length for me. The slit is 60 cm, sitting on the middle of my thigh, which is accurate to around 1934-36. The collar is 8cm tall, which was tall even for the 30s but still within the acceptable range, and it’s cut on fold as well. The placket doesn’t have to be so wide but I want to have a nice big placket :))

You may have noticed that since the front is one piece and cut open at the front closure, there is no seam allowance for the placket/front seam so when the cheongsam is buttoned, it will be slightly distorted. There is a commonly used historical method for countering this and there are multiple names for it; I’ve heard people call it 偏襟法 pianjinfa, bias closure method, or 归拔 guiba, which is a general term for abusing the bias cut in dressmaking. It’s explained with diagrams in this article and this one. Hopefully as I start explaining it will make sense.

Cutting

First, I folded the fabric in half from selvedge to selvedge and then again in the other direction, creating four layers of fabric. I taped down the lower two layers, pulled the uppermost layer outward and flattened it down. It should now be slightly on bias. In the drafting tutorial it is said that you should pull it out 1cm at the point 60cm away from the top fold, but just a little bit is fine; you don’t want to overdo it.

I pinned the upper two layers together and flipped the fabric upside down. I did the same thing with the uppermost layer here, aligning the two center layers. Now both the uppermost and lowermost layers should be slightly on bias. Now I need to cut open the dajin (front closure). I pinned the three lower layers together and started drawing out the pattern just around the dajin area.

On the uppermost layer only, a cut is made straight to where the dajin begins under the armpit, perpendicular to the selvedge. Then I cut along the dajin and at the fold, so that I could open the uppermost layer. 

Once you open the uppermost layer, you could see that the top fold of the fabric is not aligned i.e. the two layers in the middle are slightly lower. Fold the uppermost layer over, following the fold of the two inner layers. You should be able to see the upper dajin piece slightly overlapping with the lower, creating a seam allowance. 

If this sounds really complicated, do not panic; once you start handling the fabric it’s actually very easy to understand. It just works :3

I started drawing out the full pattern on this new fabric alignment. Since I will be finishing the raw edges with decorative binding, I only added seam allowances for the side/underarm seams and collar seam. Then I pinned the layers together and simply cut out the piece.

Now let’s take care of the collar opening. Open the fabric once, so that it’s only on fold at the shoulder. Since the dajin is now open, I could transfer the front collar pattern onto the fabric and cut it out on the upper layer. Once that is finished, flip the smaller dajin piece over so you could see the back piece, transfer the back pattern to the fabric and cut it out.

Then I need to cut out the placket and collar. The collar is self explanatory, just cut out two of the pattern pieces on fold, not forgetting to add a seam allowance. I gave it a very slightly tapering edge accurate to the period, but not to the extent that it had a v shape gap at the front which is definitely not early to mid 30s. I also need some stiffening for the collar, so I used a scrap piece of cotton coutil from my previous corsetry projects. This is not historically accurate since coutil was an expensive fabric and not so commonly used in the 30s anymore. Starched net interfacings were far more standard but I didn’t have any at the moment and I didn’t bother ordering, so I just recycled.

For the placket, I just traced the shape of the dajin from the main piece, extending down to where the slit begins, and added a 5cm width. Oh and also seam allowances. Since there needs to be two layers, I went ahead and stitched the two pieces right sides together at the three exterior seams (not the one that will be connected to the front piece later), turned it over and ironed it flat.

After I finished cutting all the pieces, I basted the side seams together on the main piece to see if it fit. I figured the hip part was a tad too protruding so I went ahead and smoothed the curve out a bit after taking out the basting stiches. I think this is because the drafting tutorial was for a shorter cheongsam that tapers inward below the hips, whereas I’m making a more flowy floor length one.

Binding

The double row binding is the most iconic design feature of this era and could really make or break a cheongsam in my opinion. I decided to bind the raw edges before putting the garment together. First I need to make some bias tape. I got half a meter of white and green polyester satin each, which was for some reason much cheaper than half a meter of bias binding? Anyway I folded them twice along the same direction to make a square and drew out diagonal lines with the desired thickness of the binding (I’m always using a chalk pencil because I can’t find my proper chalk for fuck’s sake). I decided on 1.5cm as the width of the finished binding, which is pretty wide and accurate to the 30s. Since I wanted the white binding to be inside and the green binding outside and actually enclosing the raw edge, I made the white bias strips 3cm wide and the green ones 4.5cm. I cut the strips out and clipped the edges, then stitched them together right sides together and ironed the seams flat. Just standard bias tape making. I cut out way too many and ended up with one long ass bias strip for each color and a bunch of shorter ones, which will come in handy later.

By the way, I have absolutely no clue how 30s double row binding was actually constructed, like whether the two pieces of binding are stitched together and applied together or separately, I just did it the way that made the most sense to me and that would be easiest to do with a machine (yes machine sewing was commonplace in the 30s). If anyone reading this owns an original 30s cheongsam, please analyze the binding and tell me about it :D 

I decided to start with the sleeves cause they’re the most straightforward. I measured out how wide the two rows of binding will be and marked out the outermost edge. Then I pinned a short white bias strip to the line right sides together with 0.5cm of seam allowance.

I stitched it in place, turned the white binding over and ironed it flat.

I just realized the white polyester satin is thinner than the green one and is actually slightly see through T_T it’s fine, no one will notice... no one will... notice ::.)

Now I just need to repeat the same with the green binding. I stitched it on top of the white binding right sides together with 0.5cm seam allowance.

Now, I originally planned to topstitch the green binding when it’s folded over and enclosing the raw edge, but then I remembered that I don’t think I’ve seen topstitching on period photographs, so I deduced it must have been finished by hand on the inside. Since the inside of the pieces could occasionally be seen, I suppose they were hand sewn with a tiny slipstitch. Actually, some heritage cheongsam makers nowadays stitch the binding to the inside first and then finish the exterior, but I don’t trust my hand sewing skills enough to be able to pull that off, and I also can’t do a proper slipstitch. So I finished the inside by hand with an invisible stitch. Although now that I think about it, I could also make the binding wider, topstitch it just outside of the first stitch line, then use the excess width to cover that up when ironing it flat. Maybe this explains why the binding on a lot of 30s cheongsam appear slightly detached to the fabric, it’s because the actual stitch line is concealed behind the fold (if any of that made sense). Well that’s too late now I’ve already finished the cheongsam :3

At this point I figured the sleeve openings were much too wide, and 30s sleeves were supposed to be tight. So I reduced the original 34cm opening to just 28, which fit very well.

And then I began to bind the slits, hem, dajin and neck area (always bind the neck area for pre 50s cheongsam!!), which shared a continuous raw edge, on the front piece. I did the same thing as with the sleeves. Right angles are needed at the hem edges but I’m not exactly the best at doing them :3

For the slits, the top edge needs to be triangular.

Then I did the back piece slits.

I’m not known as the best seamstress so feel free to read me for the wiggly lines 🤦‍♀️ But hey, I did it. Binding took me forever but the final product looked so fucking cool it was worth it.

I left out the inside finish at the neck area because I still need the seam allowance for stitching the collar and I will bind it after that is done. I clipped them so they looked a bit messy but that makes it easier to finish later.

Now the collar. I just remembered that since I was gonna bind the upper edge, I didn’t need a seam allowance for that. So I trimmed off the seam allowance for the top edge on all three layers (two fabric, one interlining).

I sandwiched the interlining between the two fabric layers and basted them together. Then I did the same thing with the binding. This time, the collar top edges should be rounded rather than rectangular, which was more common in the 30s.

Sewing

Now it’s time to actually put the garment together. A lot of historical Chinese garments were finished by a French seam (it’s not actually from France just called that in English) so I don’t see why that wouldn’t be used in the 30s. While I doubt that it was a good idea to use a French seam on cotton poplin instead of something like crepe or georgette which were more commonly used for summer cheongsam in the 30s, I also had no energy left to bind the interior seams if I didn’t do that, so French seam it was. Other possible seams for this era would be mock French seam, pinking (for softer, stable fabrics), bound seams (both interior and exterior) and machine serged seams etc., depending on the fabric, basically any seam that does not show visible topstitching. The Victorian part of me is saying that you could also fell the seams by hand with a whipstitch but I don’t think anyone in China ever did that.

For the French seam, you need to stitch the pieces wrong sides together first with a super tiny seam allowance. When that is done you check the seam and trim off any fraying. 

Then you turn the piece over and stitch it again with a bigger seam allowance right sides together, thus enclosing the original seam within the new one. Since I left a roughly 2cm seam allowance, I stitched the wrong sides with a 0.5cm allowance and the right sides 1.5cm. I finished the left side seam (without the closure) first because it’s more straightforward and it worked out surprisingly well for my cotton poplin, maybe because it was relatively soft.

For the right side seam, I sewed the top of the placket to the smaller front piece first and then sewed the placket, now continuous with the sleeve front, to the back piece at the sleeve back and side.

Now to attach the collar. I just sewed the collar to the neck right sides together, open the seam allowances and iron them flat.

For the collar, I didn’t think a French seam could be attempted cause I wanted to open the seam allowances and bind them separately so they could be flat against the neck. This wasn’t a concern historically since most cheongsam were lined so the raw edges would be in the lining, but the sheer summer ones were probably also bound internally. I’ve seen a lot of photographs and museum examples of 30s cheongsam where there is another row of binding/piping between the collar and the bodice, however I have no idea how this would be achieved. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe this was used to bind the upper edge of the collar while the lower edge is bound by the binding?? Oh shoot, that’s too late I’ve already finished the thing. I decided to finish the opened internal seams by hand with an invisible stitch. The lower layer of the binding would be continuous with that on the front closure.

That should conclude the assembly process! I made some mistakes but I corrected them and I think my cheongsam looks pretty good :D

Finishing

Yayy now I finished putting the garment together, I just needed to attach the pankou. I originally wanted to use floral ones for the collar and placket and plain 一字扣 yizikou for the side, a common historical practice, but the yizikou I bought weren’t of passable quality so I had to settle for the white round 盘香扣 panxiangkou I got later for everything. This is also historically accurate.

In a lot of 30s cheongsam, the looped part of the pankou is attached to the right side and the knot part to the left. I attached three to the collar and one to the edge of the dajin, then eight to the side ending at the slit. In the 30s, the collar could have three to five buttons, the dajin one or two and the side six to eight (depending on slit length). I couldn’t find any information on how the buttons were attached historically so I just tacked everything on by hand.

There is an extra step you could take if you want the cheongsam to have that ability to circumvent and drape around the boobies visible in a lot of pinup posters: the process of 归拔 guiba, which translates to something like “push and pull”. This terms describes any techniques that make use of the bias of the fabric to micromanage the shape of the finished garment, and in this case, you could put the cheongsam bodice on two round cushions, pulling it diagonally while blasting it with hot steam. I’m quite flat chested so this isn’t necessary.

And with this, my cheongsam is done!! 😆

Since I’m busy again, I’ll post photos of me wearing it in the future. I can tell you that it makes me look very skinny and fierce, and it’s also weirdly comfortable.

Conclusion & takeaways

So there are some things I learned with this project. I’ll summarize below:

Be careful with the seam allowance of the collar. It’s easy to miss and if you miss it the collar will look wiggly and cocked to one side like mine :(

The bottom end of the dajin should be much lower, at around bust level instead of directly under the armpit

The binding could be topstitched; if there is some extra width in the binding it could be ironed over the stitching line to hide it

The binding strip could be starched to hold better shape

The inside finish was usually a slipstitch instead of an invisible stitch

Be extra careful when buying pankou from the internet, the really big and messy ones cannot be used for proper period cheongsam at all

Be careful with the placement of the collar (note to self, experienced sewists take no notice)

A proper interfacing should be used for the collar instead of recycled coutil

That’s it for now, thanks for reading :))

[spacedikut]

i love your blurbs sm, can you write one about in quarantine with spence?

“im running out of new things to try.”

spencer’s looming in the doorway, enviously watching your position of comfort - you’re on your twelfth book, cuddled up in the duvet, using every pillow on the bed to your advantage.

he’s been pottering around in the kitchen all morning - he’s recently discovered his mathematical mind makes baking come naturally, and he’s beginning to translate that ability to pastries that he’s only content with if you shove into your mouth whole.

you hum. “you could clean,”

“already done.”

“rearrange your books?”

“did it yesterday. and five days before that.”

“...are there any puzzles you haven’t finished?”

“i’ve done them all at least twice now.”

you laugh, then, because it’s barely midday and this crisis usually happens at least right before dinner - to which you suggest he attempts to make said dinner and... he tries his best - and spencer frowns, displeased by your response and evident lack of empathy when it comes to his struggle. and what a struggle it is.

he shuffles towards the bed, kicking off his slippers (which he made himself - penelope sent a kit), revealing his mismatching socks (that he crocheted), a rush of air pushing out of you both when he lands on you.

“it’s not funny!” he whines, worming his way into your neck. “i have a shipment of new books arriving tomorrow, but every time i track the delivery it shows the same ‘delivery in progress!’ message.”

“for once, your constant need to be learning has come to bite you in the butt.”

that wasn’t the correct response, apparently - although he doesn’t move from being burrowed in your side, his lithe fingers momentarily dig into your side, just enough to get a reaction and for him to pull back and show you the pout on his lips. he’s asking for sympathy and you’re making fun of him.

he pauses, calculating as he waits for you to catch your breath. “what about a pet?” he asks.

although you’re fond of the idea, there’s one tiny issue: “that would require going outside, mr homebody.”

he huffs, moving from your chest to resting his head on your stomach - prime head scratching position. 

“doctor homebody.” he mumbles uselessly.

he flicks through his options like a catalogue in his mind - he’s done knitting, crocheting, sewing, anything involving needles and patterns, really, and he’s done his fair share of baking and cooking and he made that lopsided cake that one time. he’d reread every single book in your apartment before the first lockdown ended, and although he’s more than happy to do it all again...his brains needs something different. something other than being stationary and only using his upper body to flip pages and stir pots and weave fabric through holes.

with a soft hand rubbing against the bare skin of your thighs - he’s also started taking skincare very seriously - he tentatively asks, “we could...dance?”

you pause, questioning whether you heard him correctly.

“did you hear me?” spencer asks, turning to face you, fingers poking under the book that rests on your chest to lift it so he can see your face. you look very confused.

“dancing?”

“yeah.”

“you want to dance?”

“im not great, but...”

“you really want to?”

he can’t decipher if the expression on your face is building excitement or disgust. it’s terrifying - one will lead to future embarrassment (when he inevitably stands on your toes) and the other will lead to imminent embarrassment (when you call him a gangly freak). “i would like to, yes. if you’ll be my partner.”

“spence!” you sit up abruptly, forcing him to follow, and now he’s confident it’s excitement contorting your face. “are you kidding? of course! this’ll be so much fun,” you’re wiggling from under him and leaving the bed. spencer watches you with a warm smile. “i’ve always wanted to see you dance, ever since i saw the videos of jj’s wedding.”

you move towards the record player in your room, shuffling through the vinyls you own with pursed lips and bright eyes. spencer watches, leaning back on one arm, lovesick and surprisingly not even a little worried about how difficult this will be for his uncoordinated self.

(the mention of wedding has him asking if you’ve got any music fit for a waltz - of course you do - and has him tearing up with you’re close and softly singing along to what spencer decides will be your wedding song)

[thecreaturecodex]

Slaad Lord, Rennbuu

Image © @tredlocity​

[When I first learned about the slaad lords as a high school student, Rennbuu was my favorite. Being the Lord of Colors seemed like such a niche and petty thing compared to Randomness, Madness or Entropy, and “can change the color of anything to anything” is a signature ability with little mechanical impact that would nevertheless be very strange and disruptive in a real-world context. That naked favoritism is part of why I’ve made him stronger than Chourst, even though the Lord of Randomness was stronger back in Dragon Magazine. I also already have a prismatic slaad at CR 22, and I wanted the quasi-divine version to be a little more powerful.

Also, it took me until working on this project to realize that “Rennbuu” is based on “rainbow”.]

Slaad Lord, Rennbuu CR 23 CN Aberration This frog-like humanoid stands twice as tall as a man, with a smug expression on his wide face. He has a long white mane of hair, and his color is ever-shifting in spots and swatches of color. He wears a garish robe, also multicolored, but clashing with his own native hues.

Rennbuu, Lord of Colors, the Resplendent CN male slaad lord of art, color and unwilling change Domains Artifice, Chaos, Luck, Trickery Subdomains Curse, Deception, Revelry, Slaad Worshipers artists, dyers, fashionable iconoclasts Minions red and blue slaadi, marids, fey Holy Symbol a rainbow with its colors in a random order Favored Weapon iron brush Obedience Spend one hour engaged in a work of creative expression. Altering or adding color must be part of this process. Gain a +4 sacred bonus to saves against pattern and phantasm effects Boons: 1: chameleon stride 2/day; 2: rainbow pattern 2/day; 3: veil 2/day

Rennbuu the Resplendent is the slaad lord who has occupied that position for the least amount of time—a few centuries as opposed to millennia. He was once a prismatic slaad who returned to the Maelstrom from the timeless Astral Plane out of boredom, cultivated a minor cult among slaadi who desired to be promoted to another form, and then assumed a more humanoid and much smaller form in order to pursue his artistic goals upon obtaining a spark of divinity. Simply put, Rennbuu wants to paint the multiverse, changing the color of everything to another color as suits his bizarre whims. Some of these “masterpieces” he collects and brings home with him, whereas others are left behind as “living galleries” where hues and shades clash and are radically different from natural forms.

In combat, Rennbuu focuses more on humiliating and teasing opponents than actually killing them. He uses glamers to distract foes, patterns to mesmerize them, and phantasms and his natural weapons if he actually needs to do some damage. Any creature Rennbuu touches has its color altered however he sees fit. Rennbuu enjoys shifting colors to those that are garish and vibrant, as well as shifting skin tones to make trouble for creatures who consider racial categories to be coloration based (changing a drow’s skin tone from black to nut brown, or changing a gold dragon’s scales to red for example). He maintains some of his prismatic slaad lineage, both in terms of his spell-like abilities and his ability to inflict prismatic spray like conditions on creatures he bites.

Rennbuu dwells in a demiplane resembling a great art gallery, the name of which changes regularly as Rennbuu enters new artistic phases and seeks to emphasize different exhibits. Its staff is composed mostly of red and blue slaadi, many of which wear headbands of wisdom to temper their violent urges. These supplicants seek to be promoted by Rennbuu into another form by changing their bodies and colors. Rennbuu mixes genuine promotions with changing his supplicant’s colors without actually reshaping their forms, and is convincing (and menacing) enough that he usually gets away with the lie. His allies include several marid shazadas, and the Lantern King has been rumored to stay at Rennbuu’s gallery as a friend.

Rennbuu stands twelve feet tall. He has no favored form when shapeshifting, and can and does appear as all manner of species or genders. No matter the appearance, however, he leaves his hair long and brilliantly white as a sign of vanity.

Radiant Robe of Rennbuu (wondrous item) Aura strong abjuration and illusion; CL 14th Slot body; Price 111,000 gp; Weight 2 lbs The radiant robe of Rennbuu shifts colors constantly, making it difficult to look directly at its wearer. It functions as a robe of the archmagi that functions properly for a chaotic creature and bestows three negative levels when worn by a lawful creature. In addition, it also acts as a minor cloak of displacement. Multiple of these items exist—not only does Rennbuu wear one as a badge of office, he has bestowed several as gifts to his powerful minions and body doubles. Construction Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, antimagic field, blur, mage armor, creator must be chaotic; Cost 55,500 gp.

Rennbuu             CR 23 XP 820,000 CN Large aberration (chaos, extraplanar, slaad, slaad lord) Init +8; Senses arcane sight, darkvision 60 ft., Perception +29, true seeing Defense AC 40, touch 24, flat-footed 35 (-1 size, +4 Dex, +1 dodge, +5 armor, +11 natural, +11 deflection) hp 495 (30d8+360); fast healing 20 Fort +26, Ref +20, Will +28 DR 20/epic and lawful; Immune pattern and phantasm effects, sonic; Resist acid 20, cold 20, electricity 20, fire 20; SR 34 Defensive Abilities blur, chromatic shield Offense Speed 40 ft. Melee 2 claws +32 (3d6+11 plus color curse), bite +32 (2d10+11 plus prismatic bite) Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. Special Attacks alter slaad Spell-like Abilities CL 23rd, concentration +34 (+36 to overcome spell resistance, +38 casting defensively) Constant—arcane sight, true seeing At will—deeper darkness, greater dispel magic, greater teleport, plane shift (DC 28), prismatic spray (DC 28), rainbow pattern (DC 27), word of chaos (DC 28) 3/day—empowered fire storm (DC 28), greater invisibility, permanent image (DC 27), quickened prismatic spray (DC 28), prismatic wall (DC 29), symbol of persuasion (DC 27) 1/day—cloak of chaos (DC 29), prismatic sphere (DC 30), shades (DC 32), summon slaadi, symbol of stunning (DC 28) Spells CL 20th, concentration +31 (+33 to overcome spell resistance, +35 casting defensively) 9th (7/day)—mass hold monster (DC 30), time stop, weird (DC 32) 8th (7/day)—create demiplane, greater shadow evocation (DC 31), scintillating pattern (DC 31) 7th (8/day)—finger of death (DC 28), greater shadow conjuration (DC 30), project image (DC 30) 6th (8/day)—greater heroism, mass owl’s wisdom, veil (DC 29) 5th (8/day)—cone of cold (DC 26), permanency, persistent image (DC 28), waves of fatigue 4th (8/day)—fear (DC 25), fire shield, hallucinatory terrain (DC 27), stone shape 3rd (9/day)—displacement, fly, major image (DC 26), tongues 2nd (9/day)—eagle’s splendor, glitterdust (DC 23), magic mouth, mirror image, misdirection (DC 25) 1st (9/day)—color spray (DC 22), grease (DC 20), magic missile, shield, unseen servant 0th—dancing lights, detect magic, ghost sound (DC 21), mage hand, prestidigitation, ray of frost, resistance, touch of fatigue (DC 19) Statistics Str 32, Dex 19, Con 34, Int 23, Wis 25, Cha 32 Base Atk +22; CMB +34 (+38 dirty trick); CMD 60 (62 vs. dirty trick) Feats Alertness, Combat Casting, Combat Expertise, Combat Reflexes, Craft Wondrous Item, Dodge, Empower SLA (fire storm), Extend Spell, Forge Ring, Greater Dirty Trick, Greater Spell Focus (illusion)B, Improved Dirty Trick, Improved Initiative, Lightning Reflexes, Power Attack, Quicken SLA (prismatic spray), Quicken Spell, Spell Focus (illusion)B, Widen Spell Skills Appraise +21, Bluff +26, Craft (painting, sculpture) +25, Diplomacy +26, Disguise +26, Fly +20, Intimidate +29, Knowledge (arcana, geography, history, nature, religion) +21, Knowledge (planes) +24, Perception +29, Sense Motive +26, Spellcraft +24, Stealth +34, Use Magic Device +26; Racial Modifiers +4 Craft, +8 Stealth Languages Aquan, Common, Draconic, Protean, Slaadi, Sylvan, telepathy 100 ft. SQ camouflage, change shape (humanoid or giant, polymorph or giant shape II) illusion mastery, slaad lord traits Ecology Environment any land or underground (Maelstrom) Organization unique Treasure triple standard (radiant robe of Rennbuu, other treasure) Special Abilities Alter Slaad (Su) As a standard action, Rennbuu may touch a slaad and permanently transform it into another kind of slaad. He may not create a prismatic slaad in this fashion. An unwilling slaad must succeed a DC 36 Fortitude save to resist this effect. Rennbuu may use this ability three times per day. Slaad lords are immune to this ability. This is a polymorph effect, and the save DC is Charisma based. Camouflage (Ex) Rennbuu can change his color at will. He gains a +8 racial bonus on Stealth checks, and can make Stealth checks without cover or concealment. Chromatic Shield (Su) Rennbuu gains his Charisma modifier as a deflection bonus to AC and CMD. Color Curse (Su) A creature struck by Rennbuu’s claw attack, or that he touches as a standard action, must succeed a DC 36 Will save or have the color of its hair, eyes, skin or equipment permanently changed to one of Rennbuu’s choice. This coloration can include patterns such as spots, stripes or countershading if Rennbuu wishes. This change in color may grant a creature up to a +8 competence bonus to Stealth in a particular habitat (e.g. brown and green blotches in a forest) or down to a -8 penalty to Stealth in most habitats (such as neon pink with yellow zig-zags). When used against an inanimate, unattended object, Rennbuu may use color curse to change the color of up to a 10 foot cube of material at a time. Multiple color curses are needed to fully change the color of a larger object. This is a curse effect, and is permanent until removed. The save DC is Charisma based. Illusion Mastery (Ex/Su) Rennbuu gains Spell Focus and Greater Spell Focus (illusion) as bonus feats, and may apply them to both his spell-like abilities and spells. In addition, whenever Rennbuu uses a pattern spell, creatures affected by it treat their HD as their true HD minus Rennbuu’s Charisma modifier (-11 normally). Prismatic Bite (Su) A creature struck by Rennbuu’s bite attack, is exposed to a prismatic spray effect (CL 23rd, DC 36). The save DC is Charisma based. Slaad Lord Traits (Ex/Su/Sp) Rennbuu is a slaad lord, a powerful slaad that has assumed quasi-divine traits. A slaad lord has the following abilities:

DR 20/lawful and epic

Resist acid 20, cold 20,electricity 20, fire 20

Immune to two of the following: charm effects, compulsion effects, death effects, energy drain, fear effects, pattern effects, phantasms, poison, petrifaction

Summon Slaadi (Sp) As a standard action once per day, a slaad lord can summon one or more slaadi constituting a CR 20 encounter. This is     the equivalent of a 9th level spell

Immortal (Ex) A slaad lord does not need to eat or drink, and cannot age.

Capable of granting followers spells, as per their cult entry above

Spells Rennbuu casts spells as a 20th level sorcerer. He does not gain access to bloodline abilities or bonus spells.

[gardenergulfie]

Emptober Day 4: Ribbon

Rating: G

Word Count: 2539

Relationships: Jimmy | Solidarity/Scott | Smajor1995 | Dangthatsalongname

Characters: Scott | Smajor1995 | Dangthatsalongname, Jimmy | Solidarity

Tags:Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Red String of Fate, Pre-Canon, Post-Canon, Past Lives, Alternate Universe - Empires SMP Setting (Video Blogging RPF), Friends to Lovers, Childhood Friends, Bickering, Flower Husbands, Emptober, Seablings, 

Everything was normal with it until the day he met the other rulers. It was a political meeting of nations, the first time all of them would all be together in years. Rivendell was hosting it and it would be Jimmy’s first time out of the kingdom. Jimmy and Lizzie were representing the Ocean Empire as heirs but they were allowed to meet and greet with whoever they wanted. Lizzie quickly ran off, introducing herself to the Mezalean prince and leaving Jimmy to flounder alone. He gripped the ribbon between his fingers nervously but took a deep breath and approached the first person he could see. That person was a winged elf with blue hair and a very aloof expression.

Emptober Day 4: Ribbon

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AO3 Link

Fic below the cut

Jimmy was a pretty normal guy. I mean he was the leader of an empire but compared to the other leaders and even his own citizens he was normal, maybe even average. Just a pretty basic dude. But Jimmy had something, a part of him, that was very not normal. It was a ribbon tied around his left wrist. It was green and blue with a design of red flowers that Jimmy had never seen before. The ribbon had one end constantly trailing out of sight. It had been there for as long as he could remember and strangely enough, seemingly no-one else could see it.

When Jimmy was little he tried out some tests with the ribbon. He found out that he couldn’t tangle it, he couldn’t trip people with it, he couldn’t hang things on it, it didn’t interact with water like most fabrics did, it was just intangible to anyone or anything but Jimmy. He’d told his sister Lizzie about it but she didn’t have one and she couldn’t see or feel it. He’d even gone to the local library to do research on it which did make the bookkeeper give him a strange look, he’d never been one for academics before but he just needed to know. He found nothing but some sappy love stories about people with invisible red strings of fate that connected them to their one true love. Jimmy didn’t really believe these stories, besides he had a ribbon not a string.

Once or twice in his life Jimmy had felt a tug on the ribbon. It felt like a person on the other end of it had pulled on it. Was there someone also connected to him? Were those stories about strings of fate true? Jimmy followed the ribbon for a long time, only stopping when he realized that he was at the edge of the kingdom. If there was a person on the other end, they weren’t from his home empire.

For a while that was it. Nothing new could be found out about the ribbon and so Jimmy resigned himself to it just being a mystery forever. On the plus side, he didn’t really mind it that much. It didn’t hurt him or get stuck on anything which was nice and it was a nice texture. Sometimes when he was anxious or just restless he would twist it between his fingers and fidget with it. He got some strange looks, fidgeting with nothing, but it wasn’t that weird so no-one really questioned him.

Everything was normal with it until the day he met the other rulers. It was a political meeting of nations, the first time all of them would all be together in years. Rivendell was hosting it and it would be Jimmy’s first time out of the kingdom. Jimmy and Lizzie were representing the Ocean Empire as heirs but they were allowed to meet and greet with whoever they wanted. Lizzie quickly ran off, introducing herself to the Mezalean prince and leaving Jimmy to flounder alone. He gripped the ribbon between his fingers nervously but took a deep breath and approached the first person he could see. That person was a winged elf with blue hair and a very aloof expression.

“Hello! I’m Jimmy Solidarity of the Ocean Empire!” He said to the elf, his voice coming out louder than he intended from nerves. He winced as the elf turned to him with a mildly peeved expression.

“Scott Smajor, heir of Rivendell.” The elf said coldly. He assessed Jimmy lazily but his eyes stopped on Jimmy’s left hand, the one holding the ribbon. His cold mask dropped and Jimmy could see an expression of shock and mild intrigue before it went back up. “I’ve never spoken to a citizen of the ocean empire. Are you all this small? It's kinda cute” Jimmy bristled a bit at the insult? Flirt? He couldn’t tell but he knew enough to be offended.

“Not all of us can be as tall as elves. I am quite a normal height! And I’m not cute.” Jimmy snapped back. Scott looked briefly surprised at his retort but then smirked.

“Not cute you say? That adorable pout on your face says otherwise.” Scott says, lifting his hand to gesture at Jimmy’s expression. A hand that had a blue green and red flower patterned ribbon tied around it. The same ribbon that existed around Jimmy’s hand. Jimmy’s eyes widened and he looked at his own ribbon. Sure enough, they were connected. So there was a person on the other end of it and Jimmy had found them. But Scott? Really? This ribbon better not be one of those soul things, he does not want to be bonded to that rude elf.

Jimmy realized that he should probably respond to Scott. He’s been standing silently for about a minute now and Scott was surly waiting for him to say something.

“I wasn’t pouting! I was upset at being called cute. Not everyone likes random strangers calling them cute, you know.” Jimmy says back. Scott looks thoughtful.

“I don’t know. If a pretty boy like you walked up to me and called me cute, I don’t think I’d be complaining.” The elf says back. Jimmy sputters as he tries to think of a response. He really wasn’t someone who got flirted with often, even as a joke, and it was very disarming.

“Well I’m not you so I care.” He says back with his face bright red. He knew it wasn’t the best comeback and from Scott’s smug expression he could tell it hadn’t hit the mark he was aiming for.

“Right sure.” Scott says with an eye roll. “This conversation’s being nowhere and I already won it so why don’t we talk about something else. I could take you on a tour? I don’t think you fishfolk get the chance to see elven architecture often.” Jimmy once again bristled at Scott’s mild insult but agreed to the tour. Scott led Jimmy away from the front hall and outside into Rivendell proper. Jimmy wouldn’t admit it but Scott was a pretty good tour guide, he knew a lot about the kingdom’s history and culture and was good at talking about it, even if he still flirted and insulted Jimmy quite often. Scott showed Jimmy the sheep pens, the owl roost, and apiary, all places that Jimmy had only seen glimpses of during the trip here.

In the apiary Jimmy saw something. A red flower, identical to the ones on his ribbon. He called Scott over, asking what kind of flower that was. Scott glanced over and when he saw the red flower Jimmy was talking about he briefly touched the ribbon tied to his own hand before answering.

“Its a poppy. They’re a common flower and grow in most places. You haven’t seen one before?” The elf asked. Jimmy shook his head.

“I don’t think they grow in the swamps. I would have remembered seeing a flower this red before.” Jimmy gently touched a petal of the flower. It was beautiful and it made Jimmy feel…. weirdly bittersweet? It was just a flower. Why did Jimmy feel like crying then? He blinked away the tears that were forming and backed away from the flower. Scott was giving him an odd searching look.

“It's my favorite kind of flower.” Scott said at last. “I always make sure there’s at least one in the apiary at all times.” Jimmy was surprised at this personal info that Scott was just telling him. Scott hadn’t talked much about himself, mostly speaking about the elves and their great kingdom. Him just dropping this strange piece of personal information seems out of pace and it made Jimmy wonder why he did it. The elf was still looking at him, waiting for Jimmy to say something in return.

“It really is lovely.” Jimmy responded. “Does it have any special meanings?” Jimmy had heard of flowers having special meaning attached to them though he hadn’t learned much about them. Lizzie had but not him.

“Sleep, peace, and death are what the poppy represents.” Scott says, unconsciously tugging on the ribbon. Jimmy felt that tug, just more proof that they were connected. Sleep, peace, and death were strange meanings for the flowers on his ribbon. Maybe the type of flower didn’t mean anything but it's a magic ribbon so that was unlikely. Jimmy was hoping that his flowers meant peace or maybe sleep, death was something he’d really not want to be tied with.

Scott had been looking more and more nervous the more Jimmy thought. The elf was trying to hide it but the fluttering of his wings and shuffling of his feet gave him away. Jimmy was about to ask him about the problem when a loud gong rang across the city.

“That's the feast bell. They’re about to start dinner.” Scott says, moving towards the door to the apiary. “We need to go quickly so we’re not late.” Jimmy let the topic of Scott’s anxiety around him drop and the two rushed towards the main hall. They were separated in the crowd when they got there, Jimmy being reunited with Lizzie who asked him where he was and introduced him to her new friend Joel. Jimmy didn’t see Scott for the rest of the night, only briefly catching a glimpse of him when it was time for him to leave.

Jimmy met Scott quite a few times over the course of many years, the two becoming rulers of their own nations, Scott in Rivendell and Jimmy in the newly formed Cod Empire. They maintained a similar relationship as they had when they were young, Scott teasing and flirting with Jimmy and Jimmy getting flustered and firing back with his own bad insults. Neither of them brought up the topic of the ribbon though Jimmy was pretty sure that Scott knew at this point. The many glances at Jimmy’s left wrist was a pretty big clue to that.

Years past, Jimmy and Scott were still leading their empires and occasionally bickering with each other. The demon plagued them for a bit and in that time they became allies in a very strange way, Scott taking Jimmy on a date. The many poppies around the date place was a nice reference to the ribbon and a knowing look from Jimmy let Scott know he knew what was up. It took a couple more suggested dates for Jimmy to realize that the date wasn’t one of Scott’s normal flirts but that Scott was actually interested in him. The two took it slow, going on quite a few more dates before they were ready to speak of the ribbon out-loud.

Jimmy remembered it as a chilly evening, the two of them drinking warm tea inside of Jimmy’s house. Scott had made the excuse of it being too cold back home and that the swamp was just much warmer but Jimmy knew the elf at this point to know that Scott wanted to spend time with him. They had done some baking following a simple recipe that somehow they still managed to mess up and then salvage at the last minute. Now with a mug of tea in hand and slightly burnt cookies on a plate in front of him, Jimmy was feeling brave. He tugged on the ribbon once then twice when Scott didn’t look over from his cup of tea. The second tug caught the elf’s attention and he looked down at the ribbon resting beside them both.

“I think at this point we both know about the existence of this,” Jimmy waved his own end of the ribbon, “and the fact that it connects them. I don’t know about you but we’ve been dating for a bit. We might as well talk about it.” Scott blinked in surprise at the question coming from seemingly nowhere but nodded at set down his drink.

“I was wondering when one of us was going to be brave enough to bring up the soul ribbon.” Scott said. “I’d have thought you would have blurted the question out way before now.” Scott teased with a small smirk. Jimmy let the insult flirt fly over his head, mostly focused on the words soul ribbon.

“Wait, the soul ribbon is like a string of fate? The stuff from those love stories?” Jimmy asked. Scott looked confused at the question.

“Wait, you mean you don’t know about soul ribbons? They’re real and way more than just stories. We’re kind of living proof of that.” Scott said. Jimmy leaned back in his chair a bit more.

“The only information I found about anything similar to the ribbon was stories about red strings of fate that connect people destined to be together. They were just fiction I thought but you’re saying that it’s really real. We’re soulmates?” Jimmy asks.

“Soul ribbons are a bit more complicated than just the idea of fated couples. They’re broken promises from a past life. When two people promise to stay together but something happens where they promise is broken, the universe will step in and give them another chance. Hence, the soul ribbon.” Scott explains. “The pattern of the ribbon normally has some kind of meaning relating to the past life. Soul ribbons can’t really be studied but there have been enough cases that people are now pretty sure of their meaning.”

“So in another life, we made a promise to each other but it got broken? And poppies were important to us?” Jimmy questioned. “Well that explains why I feel so happy and sad at the same time when I see a poppy. Past life emotions, huh.” Scott reached out and took a cookie with one hand and Jimmy's own hand with another.

“I understand if this is a lot to take in.” Scott bit his lip, looking anxious. “Again, the soul ribbon doesn’t mean that we have to be together. It’s just the universe giving us a second chance. So if this is too much for you we don’t have to keep dating-“

“What? Scott no. I don’t want to stop dating. It’s strange, yeah, but I mean I already knew we were connected. This doesn’t have to change anything for us! I’m happy to know how we’re connected, this solves a mystery I’ve always been wondering about. I mean, better lovers in a past life than fated enemies in this one.” Jimmy said passionately, laughing a bit at his own joke at the end. Scott’s face brightened up and he smiled back at Jimmy.

“Was that one of your theories? Fated enemies?” Scott chuckled as he took a bite of his cookie. Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck bashfully with his free hand.

“I mean we were always bickering. It wasn’t too strange of an idea.” Jimmy defended himself.

The two of them continued to talk for quite a few more hours before they eventually fell asleep together, bundled up under a quilt. Their hands were intertwined, the two ends of the ribbons brushing against each other. The universe looked down at these second chance souls and felt pride. They really had found each other again.

[todomitoukei]

hello! japanese learner anon here ^^

how are you? how are things?

things are okay on my end. i’m kind of contemplating quitting japanese lessons because i’m burnt out. my sensei has this tendency to rarely praise or compliment someone for their efforts in learning japanese. unless you eat sleep and breathe japanese, then you’re not really putting the effort. he mad a jab about me in the groupchat and i’m honestly too tired to respond.

since march, i’ve been waking up very early (i’m unemployed) to study vocabulary. i now review 16 lessons worth of vocabulary for two hours, work on some home work in the afternoon for two hours more and use japatalk twice a week to speak to native japanese people. i have difficulties with listening (audios are way too fast) and sentence creation but i consider myself to be very good! especially when we’re asked why a particle is added here. i’ve also improved my reading and translation skills and im very happy with my achievements in japanese these year. even when i started becoming burnt out last month, i still pushed through.

however, we took a midterm two weeks ago and i got a 56/100 and i was in total disbelief. it’s like i didn’t study or learning anything at all! sensei said he intentionally made it very difficult for us and wanted it to be challenging and he said the reason why my score is so low is because of the listening portion. okay true but i’d understand more of i scored around the 70s not 50s like??

i wish i could enroll with another teacher but he’s the only one that i know of that teaches japanese in great detail and can explain it in arabic (my native language) and english. plus, i spent a lot of money and effort to just give up.

sorry this turned into a rant but i feel like you’re the only one who gets me 🥺

Hi there!

I've been good! I have a busy week ahead of me because my parents are going on vacation tomorrow (guess who gets to drive them to the airport at 2.30 in the morning...) but I'm going to a concert soon and going on vacation next month so I'm super excited about those things!!

First things first, I'm so sorry you're having to deal with a shitty teacher like that. Not sure why someone like that is a teacher when they're clearly not fit for the job...

I'm not sure if you're just considering quitting your Japanese classes or studying in general, but I definitely think that if the class and teacher aren't for you, then forcing yourself to suffer through it isn't the solution. You can keep studying on your own though, and based on what you're saying here, I've got a few tips for you that might help you:

First of all, you're spending too much time reviewing vocab. I used to be just like that and it wasn't as helpful as I thought it was and kept me from progressing better and faster. For a long time, all I did was learn vocab and grammar, without ever using it for anything by reading, etc. The thing is - there is only so much input your brain can handle and two hours is way too much.

Instead, I recommend reducing that time to maybe 15 minutes and using the rest of those 2 hours doing other things like reading. Doing something like comprehensible input (meaning you understand 80-90% already) is super helpful because you can either use this to learn new vocab/grammar without it being too much, or you can just consume content without looking up what you don't understand because most of the time, you can just fill in the blanks from context.

I used to watch a lot of crime shows when I was younger and whenever they would talk about medicine/science, I wouldn't understand shit but I still got the point and was able to enjoy the story. So doing comprehensible input or even consuming content "below" your level - meaning you understand pretty much everything - is a great way to just get used to seeing vocab and grammar in context and get used to sentence patterns without it feeling like studying.

Aside from the fact that you're gonna feel less burnt out by spending less time doing pure studying, what's really good is that you mentioned what you struggle with. Identifying your weak points is the first step in improving in those areas. So if you don't struggle so much with vocab, but more with listening, then focus more on the listening part.

Here are a few of my favorite YouTube channels that I highly recommend you use for practicing your listening. These channels are all made for Japanese learners so they're not too fast or difficult:

Comprehensible Japanese: Yuki talks about all kinds of topics and uses a whiteboard to draw while talking to visualize what is being said. She also repeats words and uses synonyms. The channel has three playlists that categorize the videos into difficulty levels from complete beginner to intermediate. I recommend watching ALL the videos. Again, you don't have to learn anything new here, this is all about practicing your listening.

あかね的日本語教室: Akane is a Japanese teacher who makes videos that are aimed at intermediate and above students, but even if you don't understand everything, just getting used to hearing the language and trying to pick up as many words as possible is a great practice.

Japanese with Shun: There are videos and podcasts that are for beginner to intermediate learners. A lot of videos also mention in the description which JLPT level they correspond with so you can choose a video that matches your current level.

しのせんせい: This channel has two main video formats: 'Daily News in Simple Japanese' and 'Learn Japanese Through Story' - all the videos have text on the screen and some vocab listed. What I recommend here is to listen to the video once without reading the text. Then watch again this time reading the text and looking up any words you don't know. Then watch again and see how much you can pick up now.

Aside from listening, you also mentioned that you struggle with creating sentences. Input (listening and reading) will help you a lot with this already because exposing yourself to sentence patterns, etc. will help you to easily memorize them. But I have two tips for improving on this through output:

Shadowing: This means listening to native material and repeating what you hear. You can also use the above-mentioned YouTube channels for this. Since those channels are beginner friendly, they are spoken slowly and have lots of pauses, giving you enough time to repeat what you heard without missing the next sentence. The last channel I recommend is especially good for this since the text is on the screen so instead of having to focus on listening + repeating, you just have to read + repeat. Speaking is all about muscle memory, which is why shadowing is a good way to get your mouth used to speaking Japanese. It can also help you memorize vocab, sentence patterns, etc. so it's a win-win situation.

Journaling: This doesn't have to be fancy. Just writing a couple of sentences in Japanese every day can go a long way. There are a few options for you here: you can use a physical journal, an app that lets you journal/take notes, or an app where a native speaker and correct you (i.e. HelloTalk). I especially recommend the last option because that way, you won't just keep making the same mistakes without knowing. The best way to do this is to have a separate notebook where you write down the mistakes you have made and their corrections. Go over those at the end of the week to see what you struggle with. Is there grammar or vocab you're using incorrectly? If so, go over those grammar points or words again. Keeping a daily journal is really helpful. Even if your sentences may seem plain and repetitive to you, you'll quickly memorize basic sentence patterns and build up on those over time. And remember - it doesn't have to be perfect, it's okay to make mistakes! People have a tendency to try and be perfect, but to tell you the truth, native speakers make mistakes too! And with English, I honestly... stopped caring. If I make a mistake, so be it. Language is there to communicate your thoughts, so as long as you can get the point across, who cares? So don't feel discouraged if you made a mistake or couldn't 100% accurately say what you wanted to say. A little is more than nothing.

I know the language learning process can be a struggle. And having a teacher that does nothing but discourages you isn't helping. But just think about the fact that there was a time when you didn't know any Japanese and now you can already speak to Japanese people so you clearly have a foundation already and the ability to progress.

Like I said, I used to also do more studying than anything else, but I made far more and better progress since moving away from actively studying (but still doing some reviews) and focusing more on just surrounding myself with the language and enjoying the process.

While I do still review vocab, for the most part, I just look up words I don't know whenever I come across them. It can be a bit frustrating to keep coming across the same word and not be able to recall its meaning even though you know you've looked it up several times already and as soon as you do look it up you just roll your eyes because 'DUH, I knew that!' but as frustrating as that is, it feels so accomplishing once you finally don't have to look it up anymore because you managed to remember it. Repeatedly exposing yourself is often more successful than trying to just drill it into your head.

The bottom line is that what helped me the most was to recognize what didn't work and then change up my routine. A different approach is often the best solution. I constantly change up my routine now to ensure I still have fun and because there are always new ways for me to improve my Japanese.

Always ask yourself: What doesn't work? What do I not enjoy? And then find ways to change those parts and keep the parts that do work.

There are a lot more resources and methods, but these were just some tips based on what you've said you struggle with so I hope this helps you a little bit.

Just know that you definitely don't have to stay in that class and can just self-study instead. There are always gonna be moments where you might not enjoy it as much, but it is so worth it because whenever you notice your progress, it feels so rewarding and that will motivate you to keep going. It's also a great reminder to yourself that you can improve your skills so you will be able to improve even more in the future.

Anyway, I understand your struggle and hope things will get better for you.

And definitely keep me updated! You got this!!

���張って！

[spenciegoob]

11 Minutes

A/N: Hi this is lovely based on the song 11 Minutes by Yungblud featuring Halsey, so if you’ve heard that song before, man I’m really sorry for this one. If you haven’t... man I’m really really sorry for this one. Also yes this is really short I’m sorry.

Couple: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral!Reader

Category: Fluff/Angst

Content Warning: death of a major character, car accident, therapy

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.4K

____

“Spencer, the last two times that I’ve seen you, we’ve sat in silence,” the doctor pointed out, obviously annoyed that her patient, who ironically enough had more PhDs, was wasting their time. “I know it’s hard to start, but the best place to, is from the beginning.”

“Y/N. Their name was Y/N.” This was the first time Doctor Fredricks heard Spencer say anything besides their usual before meeting greetings, and after meetings scheduling. “I heard it all, you know?”

“Heard what, Spencer?”

“Everything.”

“Spencer, I promise you I am getting in the car now. You’ll get to see me in 15 minutes,” you laughed into the phone at your very impatient boyfriend.

“Actually, I’ll see you in 17 minutes and 42 seconds give or take traffic patterns and how awful your first attempt at parking is.” It had been exactly 9 days 7 hours 24 minutes and 43 seconds since you last saw Spencer, and he wasn’t the one counting down by the second this time. 

“Hey!” You barked right back. You weren’t the greatest parker in the world, but there was no need to mention it. “I could walk and skip the parking altogether.”

“No,” he whined, growing more impatient by the second. “That’ll take you an hour, and it’s been enough time since I got to see you. Please love bug, I take back the parking comment.”

“Alright, alright, alright. You’re getting off the hook...” you said as you put the key in the engine, but before you turned the car on, you mumbled, “this time.”

“I heard that!” You couldn’t stop the guilty giggle from escaping your throat and into the speaker of the phone. “Did I just hear your car turn on? I’m hanging u-”

“No, sh. I’m putting you on speaker. Don’t worry, doctor. I’m not on my phone while driving.” Of course Spencer would be nervous about you being distracted by anything while driving, he had the statistics lodged in his brain about car accident deaths.

“Did you know that roughly 1.35 mi-”

“Million people in the US die on the road with an average of 3,700 per day? How could I forget?” You cut him off, hearing this rant every time you went to change the station on your car radio.

“You’re on speaker, and I’ve been driving for 2 minutes already. I think I’ll be fine for the next 15, I promise.” You both knew it was ridiculous to stay on the phone as you headed over to his apartment. It was like the two of you couldn’t wait another second without the other, and thankfully modern technology granted you both that.

“It’s dangerous, love bug, and you know it.” Spencer just would not give up, would he? You’ve had your license for over a decade, and yet he held onto the handle next to his window as if he was your mother teaching you to drive for the first time whenever he was in the car with you. “Plus you speed.”

“What can I say? I like to live on the danger side. Plus do you really want to talk about car deaths, or can I yell at you for insulting my driving TWICE now,” you joked, feigning offense to Spencer’s truthful mean comments about your driving.

“I would much rather talk about how much I missed you,” he sweet-talked to you. While it was cute and all, you knew it was just so you would immediately forget about his little backhand driving comments.

“I missed you, too, my love.” Of course it worked. It was Spencer Goddamn Reid.

“How much longer?” The tone of a little boy in a candy shop whose parents just said no to pounds of sugar returned. You smiled and shook your head to yourself.

“According to maps, 13 minutes.” You let your mind wander as you stared out into the road ahead of you. How did you get so lucky with Spencer?

The day you two reached for the same book in a small library that was almost hidden to the street outside was the best day of your life. You and Spencer talked for hours about Emily Dickinson, other authors, composers and personal lives. It felt natural to spend time with him, and if you could, you’d spend every waking moment with him. That day, you hadn't even realized that 5 hours had passed, nor did you realize you never asked for his name in that amount of time.

“Don’t speed, but hurry up...please.”

“Spencer, how am I supposed to do those things at once?” The light turned red before you could run it, adding at least another 30 seconds before you got to see him.

“I’m 11 minutes away. The lights in this city just su-” You never got to finish your sentence, because the car behind you forgot to stop.

Your head shot forward, hitting the top of the steering wheel as your car and the pick up truck coming at you at 40 miles an hour made impact. Your car had involuntarily skidded in the middle of the intersection. Thankfully, however, it wasn’t a busy one.

“Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?!” You hadn’t registered Spencer’s insistent yelling through the speaker in your phone until the ringing in your eyes subsided to a small dull.

“Y-Yeah,” you croaked out. “Some ass just hit me from behind.”

That’s when you looked to the left of you.

They say when people die, they see a white light at the end of a tunnel, but you saw two. You saw two headlights coming in your direction at a speed that you knew was impossible to stop. The weight the truck carried along with the amount of force used to halt the tires in their place made it so that the driver had no choice.

“You know I love you, Spencer. I love you so much.” You stared death in the eyes, it coming in the form of yellow lights and a blaring horn you knew Spencer could hear on the other end.

“Y/N, I-”

“I never got the chance to actually say it back.” Spencer finished recollecting your death, something he only did in the comfort of his home, alone with nothing but the silent sobs that raked through his body.

“Spencer, you don’t have to tell me for me to know that you blame yourself,” Dr. Fredricks spoke calmly, too calm for Spencer’s liking. He had just told her about the worst moment of his life, and she still held the same tone as if she was saying see you next week.

“How could I not?” He started to get more upset by the second, his voice rising in volume and his body leaning forward. “How do I sit here, and not blame myself? I called them that day. I was the one that rushed them. Me, no one else, but me!”

“Were you driving either cars that hit them?” Spencer knew what she was doing. Dr. Fredricks was trying to get him to admit it wasn’t his fault, so instead of giving in, he stayed silent. She sighed before continuing.

“You need closure, Spencer. The wound is still so fresh that it will never start to heal if you don’t let it.” At this, Spencer sat back and fiddled with his fingers.

She was right. He needed to start healing instead of ripping the wound farther across this heart, cutting deeper each time.

“That’s all the time we have for today. You’ve made great progress this week, and I hope that we can follow that pattern next week as well.” Spencer smiled down at his therapist as he stood up to walk out.

“Oh, and Spencer,” Dr. Fredrick called out. He stopped and turned, expecting a reminder he didn’t need for next week’s time.

“Their last words were I love you. Don’t ever forget they meant it.”

Spencer finally let a tear run down his cheek, the first time he cried in front of anyone after your death.

He nodded before walking out onto the busy DC street. As he was walking, Spencer took out his phone, flipping it between hands, contemplating his next move.

‘Closure, Spencer. You need closure.’ He kept repeating in his mind.

Finding a bench, he sat down to search his contacts for the one name he couldn’t bring himself to delete.

Before Spencer could rethink his next move, he made it, pressing the call button. The phone didn’t even ring, it just went straight to voicemail.

‘Hey! Sorry I missed you, I’m probably asleep. Leave a message, but I can’t promise I’ll listen to it. Bye!’

“Hey, love bug.”

____

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[onlythebrave-mp3]

my top 2020 fics!

okay! so i recently jumped back into this fandom after a couple of years, and started reading fic again, and i wanted to rec some of my favorites that were written this year. there’s ten on this list, and i probably could’ve done like 30 but this is already so long lol. it’s kind of in a general order, so #1 is my fav for this year, but i tried not to focus on the ranking too much because it stresses me out and i don’t need any more anxiety so it’s ended up being a pretty vague system.

1.  Our Lives, Non-Fiction (113k) by @indiaalphawhiskey 

listen. I’ve reblogged this fic like 10 times. I’ve read it twice already and it came out less than 3 weeks ago. It is an instant classic, right up there with fics like TIF or Wear it like a Crown. It has gorgeous, gorgeous writing, a thoroughly developed plot and well written character development, and such a compelling story. It is a marcel/louis fic, and I usually shy away from that kind of thing, but i’m so glad i didn’t this time because god, this one is so good. Seriously, if anyone ends up reading it, come and rant to me about it and we can cry together. Halfway through the second chapter, I created a note on my phone so I could keep track of everything I loved, and my comment on that fic is essentially a love letter to @indiaalphawhiskey. It's just so good. If you’re going to read one fic off this list, read this one. 

2. Loving You's a Bloodsport (106k) by @rosesau

okay i’m pretty sure this one made me cry like four times, which is a feat for me because i’m not usually a crier. Its soulmates with a little bit of a twist, and the plot is so well developed. Harry and louis’ feelings and their progression are written so vividly and i wish i could forget that i read it so i could go and read it again for the first time. It's also got some enemies to lovers, which is my favorite trope, and all of the side characters are beautifully developed as well. Prince!Harry, soldier!Louis, angsty soulmates. What more could you want? Oh and if you’re not convinced enough, here is a quote that fucking follows me around because its so beautiful: “Love and hate are two sharp knives balanced on a very fine line and I’ve cut myself on both because of you.” (ohmygod)

3. Mine Would Be You (114k) by @crinkle-eyed-boo

okay this one is listed at number three but it really should be 1c lol. I started this one at 11 pm like an idiot, and i don’t think i slept that night at all. It's Exes to lovers, and it's so well written. It switches between the past and the present, it's  heartbreakingly beautiful, the breakup and resolution are both so realistically written as well, and there's a great ot5 plotline too that i really loved. This one was also an instant classic- i bookmarked it before i even finished reading it. It's also got beautiful art and Louis and Harry are both artists in NYC, which I'm a slut for. Please read this one, it's so good.

okay i just realized how long this got so i’m putting the rest under the cut

4. The Murmur of Yearning (93k) by @mediawhorefics (for some reason tumblr isn’t letting me tag them??) | mediawhore on ao3 

I just finished this one, and my goddddddd it's so good. I read it in a day, and it's essentially 100k. Which isn’t that unusual for me except I did skip a class to get through it (an exam prep class. Not my finest moment but I passed. so.) There are tons of original characters that draw you in, and the whole world that is created is so fascinating and detailed. There's also no homophobia, so if you like historical fics but get triggered by that kind of thing, this is for you! Also, if you’re worried about the non-con elements, I'm sure you could message the author but also feel free to check in with me! I’ll definitely be rereading it in the near future and am totally up for discussing and crying over this fic with anyone.

5. Remember Me Fondly by @bluejeanlouis | kiddle on ao3 

ahhhhhhh this one made me sob too! It's set in both the present and the past, and I fell in love with all of the characters. This one is also heartbreaking, but I promise there’s a happy ending. Also, they way this fic deals with the fame and the homophobia and tours that harry and louis went through -even if it isn’t actually canon and is set in the 90s- is so vividly painful and realistic. It's written half through a journalist’s eyes and half through harry and louis, yet the switch in pov is so seamless and fluid and adds so much to the piece. 11/10.

6. Nothing But You On My Mind (83k) by @absoloutenonsense | nonsensedarling on ao3

okay. I started this in the middle of the night, and told myself I'd read one chapter to see if I liked it and then I would go to sleep. I'm pretty sure I read like 6. It sucks you in right from the beginning, and there's such a well developed plot. And it's so unpredictable and all of the details are so nuanced and tiny and then you look back at everything after you’ve finished it and go oh. Ohhhhhh. This one is also enemies to lovers. Are we sensing a pattern here?

7. An Invincible Summer (44k) by @twopoppies | Brooklyn_Babylon on ao3 

so as you can see this one is only 45k but i just love it so much that i’m rec’ing in anyways. It’s such a gentle, exploratory piece of literal art, and I kind of want to stay in the world that was created forever. Its set in the 1940s on a farm and i know @twopoppies has said that it started off as an excuse for barn sex, but it such a vivid story and its heartbreaking and emotional and uplifting all at once and please please please go read this. The only critique I have of it is that it's only 40k.

8. Somewhere in Between Lightning (99k) by @nauticalleeds, @shiningdistraction, and jassy117 on ao3

So this one's exes-to-lovers as well, and it's written in such a realistic way. Also i’m in love with the concept of louis on love island, despite the fact that he said he hates it. There's a sauna scene that I still think about sometimes. It's got just the right amount of angst and fluff and pining and despite the fact that it's set on a show that is usually pretty dramatic and unrealistic, this is written in a really beautiful but pragmatic way. I love it. i’ve got it  downloaded on my phone so I can read little snippets of it sometimes if I have to wait somewhere.

9. You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) (95k) by @harryrainbows | lucythegoosey on ao3 

god so this one incorporates some of Fine Line into it, and wouldn’t say it's a song fic so much as it is written as a canon compliant fic that ties harry’s songs into it and its done so fucking well oh my god. Harry and Louis are exes in this one too (lol i'm sorry) and the build up of them getting together and the pining and longing is written really well.

10. At Risk, I Fold (15k) by @bearmustard | clare328 on ao3 

so i know this one is only 15k, but I put this in the list anyways. It's canon compliant, and it does mention the stunts (as stunts), but don’t let that deter you. Harry and Louis are written almost exactly as i’ve imagined them, and this one is such a heartbreaking look into the resilience and love and bravery that they have. It made me cry despite the fact that it’s not really a glum fic. The only reason it is last on the list is because it's shorter and i was mostly intending this to be a long fic rec. The love that they have for each other really shines through in this one, and it’s super gentle and soft and sad and happy all at once and just please go read it.