#and they’re STILL making her trend every week and putting up birthday ads for her

[djxiao]

I always go to ur blog first when I open tumblr. disappointed that I didn't see any tea today ://

you read my blog like it’s the morning paper i’m honored 😭 sorry for the lack of tea i promise to do better

[sundaysundaes]

My Words, Your Thoughts (Teaser)

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut | Soulmate AU, Friends-to-Lovers AU

Part of the beautiful ‘Aubade’ collaboration hosted by @hyucksie​

Synopsis: As an introvert, you are familiar with the silence. Drowning yourself deep in your thoughts has been a habit you’ve become addicted to. Your life begins to change, however, ever since the day you turned twenty. Suddenly, there’s this song that’s stuck in your head, and no matter how much you yearn to hear your thoughts or be comforted by the silence, it keeps on playing. You only get to find the answer to your problem when a young, cute barista hands you a cup of coffee one day, with that song’s lyrics written on the side. And you realize that you’re not the only one who’s been hearing voices in your head.

Warnings: explicit sex, expletives, mentions of physical abuse and astraphobia (not for the main characters)

WC (Teaser): 4k

Release Date: June 27, 2021, 10 AM KST

It’s weird. It’s so weird.

It’s weird that you’ve been hearing this song replaying over and over again in your head when you’re sure you’ve never listened to it before. It’s also weird because sometimes the song sounds like the ones you often hear about on the radio—complete with instrumental accompaniment and everything—but most of the time, it just sounds like someone is humming to it. Sometimes quietly, but more often than not, vehemently like they’re having a concert in the shower, not caring if the neighbors might hear.

As someone who rarely listens to mainstream music, you don’t keep up with the trend these days but the tunes are catchy enough that you think, maybe, it’s one of those Justin Bieber’s songs people always talk about. You’re not fond of it, though, so even if you’ve heard it somewhere in a cafe or a mall, there’s very little chance you’ll be humming it in your head.

And yet, it keeps on playing.

It gets worse when it goes on for a whole day—a whole fucking day—that your brain feels like it’s seconds away from bursting into pieces. It doesn’t even sound like your voice. It seems like it belongs to a male, a bit light and a pitch higher than most. Though it sounds pleasant, the voice is unfamiliar to your ears and that’s what bothers you the most. 

Trying your best to escape, you plug in your AirPods to your earholes, choosing one of the most beloved tracks from your playlist—today, it’s Bloom by The Paper Kites—to help you relax as you lie down on your bed. But no matter how many times you turn up the volume—it’s practically turning you deaf, ironically—you can still hear that one goddamn song playing.

“Oh my God,” you groan, projecting a murderous glare at the ceiling of your room before you shriek all of your heart’s content to your pillow. “Make it stop!”

This has been going on ever since your twentieth birthday and it’s been three months since then—three months of suffering, to be exact. Fortunately for you, you haven’t been listening to the same song for those amount of time—God, you would’ve killed yourself if that was the case. The song changes without warning. It can change ten times within a day, or stay the same for ten days. You have never heard of these songs except for the popular ones, and even then, you only ever listened to snippets as they don’t suit your taste. 

So… It doesn’t make sense that you could recite the whole lyrics, does it? 

And yet, you can. 

Somehow, you already know every word, every tune, even every ad-lib in these songs and it both amazes and creeps you out. It’s as if somebody else is singing about it in their mind, and you, somehow, are mentally connected to them.

But that’s surely not the case, right?

With more days passing by, as your brain deteriorates little by little, you start to think that maybe that is the case.

Or maybe you’re just going crazy.

It’s nine in the morning and your eyes are bleary from how you involuntarily skipped sleep last night. With the loudest sigh and your half-charged MacBook sitting still in your backpack, you let your wobbly legs carry you to the nearest coffee shop. There’s a new Starbucks store opening just a couple of blocks away from your apartment and it’s perfect since you’re going to pass it every day on your way to college. 

You’re not excited though, not when you have Michael Jackson’s Man in The Mirror playing in your head for the, approximately, thirty-fifth time that day. And it’s only nine in the fucking morning.

When you enter the coffee shop, greeted by a cute Christmas tree and festive decorations spreading all over the place even when it’s still three weeks away from the holiday, you almost weep in joy when the song stops playing in your head. It does happen from time-to-time, sometimes it stops for a few hours before it starts again with the same song or an entirely different one. But in most cases, it only pauses for a few minutes which just doubles the torture whenever you’re trying to concentrate on your paperwork.

“Hi.” You display a timid smile at a female barista, slightly wincing when the song in your head starts blaring again, as expected. It’s still the same song this time—so that thirty-sixth by now, Jesus Christ—but instead of someone humming it, it’s the original version that plays. You’re having trouble focusing on her greeting when the sound of a synthesizer echoes through your ear, stridently so. “I would like a tall skinny latte with a double shot, please.”

“Would you like anything else to accompany your drink?”

Perhaps a gun to blow my head off? “No, thanks. That’d be all for me.”

“Is that for here or to go?”

You take a quick scan of your surroundings. You still have an hour before your first class starts and since the place isn’t that crowded, you figure you might as well just spend some time here. “For here.”

You tell her your name and slide down your card to complete the payment. “All right. We will call your name once your order is ready.”

“Fantastic. Thanks.” As the female barista takes an order from another customer, you drag yourself to an empty seat in the corner of the room, next to the glassy window where you can glance at passersby. You lay your head down on the table, cheek pressed against the wooden surface, lower lip jutting out in weariness. You’re drowsy and you want to think about the snow that’s probably gonna fall sometimes near Christmas’ Day and maybe the sight of a warm fireplace where you can cozy up with your imaginary boyfriend (also known as Jung Jaehyun—that one perfect boy who lives just across of your hallway), but no, unfortunately for you, you no longer have any space left in your brain since Michael Jackson is performing a damn concert and it doesn’t seem like he’s gonna stop anytime soon.

“I’m starting with the man in the mirror…” Great, now you’re singing it. “I’m asking him to change his ways…”

The music in your head abruptly stops again but before you can close your eyes to finally enjoy your silence, a familiar voice chimes in.

“It’s a great song, isn’t it?”

Shocked, you quickly lift your head to identify a male barista placing down a cup of your ordered latte on your table. You swear you recognize his voice but his face doesn’t ring a bell.

“Hi,” he greets, smiling a bit sheepishly. “I don’t usually bring orders directly to the table but I think I misheard your name so I couldn’t call you out from there.”

“That’s, umm, that’s okay…” You hide the bottom half of your face behind your scarf as you’re not used to talking to a stranger, especially one that looks overwhelmingly pretty. “What did you think my name was?”

“Umm…” He rubs the back of his nape awkwardly. “I don’t think you want to know. It was a bit… inappropriate.”

“R-right…” You glance at the cup. “It says ‘Michael.’”

He chuckles but with only a slight hint of amusement in it. “Yeah, sorry about that. I had to come up with something and it was the first thing that came to mind.”

“And it has…” Your eyes widen when you notice the words he’s written on the side of your cup. It’s not a greeting, it’s not a motivational sentence, it’s the fucking lyrics to Michael Jackson’s Man in The Mirror.

“Yeah, okay, so—” Noticing the appalled look on your face, he hurriedly tries to reason out. “I’ve had this song stuck in my head all day long—I just listened to it a minute ago while making your order—and the lyrics are just so inspirational so I decided to write that down. I hope that’s not too weird.” Then he laughs a little, a tad more genuinely this time. “But I heard you singing that song just now. What are the chances, right?”

You swallow hard. He’s been thinking about that song too? Listened to it a minute ago? What are the chances of this is happening? Is he the one whose voices I’ve been hearing in my head—

The male barista abruptly takes a step back, his tray nearly slipping out of his hold. He has a hand pressed against his ear, eyes blinking several times in disbelief. “Holy shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You—” He splutters, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I can’t believe it’s real.”

“What?” The way he seems like he’s looking at a ghost sends goosebumps all over your skin. “What is it?”

“Think about something.” 

“Umm—” What is he talking about?

This time he gapes, his jaw dropping low. “Holy shit, I can really hear you. Think about something else—think about me.”

“Look, I don’t know you and you’re being weird.” The sudden change of conversation baffles you but when his words sink in, you can’t stop yourself from thinking about him as he orders. He’s cute, his entire features are cute—you’ve noticed that from the first second you laid your eyes on him, but what catches your eyes the most is his lips—the way they’re shaped so beautifully, like a cupid’s bow—

“You’re thinking about my lips? Seriously?” He asks, but might as well splash cold water to your face. “If you said something about my eyes, sure, I mean, they are attractive. One might even say that God Himself took the stars from the sky and put them in my eyes—but my lips? Huh, that’s new.”

You loudly gasp when you’re finally aware of the situation, hands flying to your face to cover your gaping mouth. “You can hear my thoughts!”

“And you can hear mine too!” He points out, and as startled as you are from the previous realization, you instantly frown upon his words. 

“I don’t think so,” you reply. “I can only hear—”

“Donghyuck-ah!” Another barista comes to interrupt from the other side of the room. “We didn’t pay you to flirt, come back here!”

“I wasn’t flirting!” He shouts back, tips of his ears reddening. When he turns to you again, he has a prominent scowl on his face which makes you squirm on your feet. “We need to talk about this. My break is in an hour, do you think you can wait?”

It sounds more like an order than a request. “B-but I have a class in an hour.”

“Skip it.”

It takes all the strength in your body to be brave enough to retort back with, “Why don’t you skip your work?”

“I’m already half-done with my work, I can’t bail out now.” He rolls his eyes. Suddenly, his courteousness just vanishes without a trace. “Look, I’ve been hearing your thoughts for months now and I have a lot to complain to you about.”

You grimace. “It’s not like I can control my thoughts—”

“I know, I’m not blaming you.” He picks up the tray, his gaze softening but only slightly. “I just want to complain. You’ve been driving me crazy these past few months.”

You glance away, pouting. Wow, he surely knows how to befriend a stranger.

“I can hear you, you know.” He sighs as if talking to you is exhausting, when it should be the other way around. “Look, I’m sure you’ve been going through the same thing. Don’t you want this to stop?”

You’re not wasting any second. “Yes, please.”

“Then wait for me. We’ll talk this through.” He pivots on his heels, his tray glued to his side. When you can finally breathe properly, exhausted from the social interaction as you sink back to your seat, the barista—Donghyuck—adds, “Oh, as you wait. Can you please stop thinking about my lips? Or just how cute I am in general? It’s sweet but I gotta concentrate so I won’t write another Michael on my next order.”

You slam your forehead down the table, face aflame. “I-I’ll try.”

“Thanks.”

***

“You just can’t stop thinking about my lips, can you?” Is the first thing Donghyuck states out as soon as he’s approached your table. He runs a hand through his brown hair, which looks out-worldly fluffy that you begin to wonder what kind of hair product he’s been using. “Or my hair.”

Mortified, you mumble out, “I’m sorry,” with half of your face covered by your hands. The more I try not to think about his lips, the more I do—shit, is he hearing this too—

“Yes,” Donghyuck says, but this time with an amused smile. “Man, I didn’t know my lips were that appealing to ladies. You’re gonna make me blush.”

Well, he’s making you blush for sure. “Would it be too much to ask for you to stop listening to my thoughts?”

“Believe me, woman, I’ve tried.” He groans, taking his apron off before he sits in front of you. He loosens up his collar, unbuttoning two buttons of his white shirt—which is two more than necessary to your liking—and you have to gaze away before another thought forms inside your head about a certain part of his body. 

“Sorry if I came on too strong before. I’m Lee Donghyuck,” he introduces formally, offering you his hand. You reply with your name but you’re reluctant to shake his hand since you’re sure you’re breaking into a cold sweat, and an overly sweaty palm doesn’t really scream attractive—

“It’s literally just a handshake,” he says, stifling down a laugh. “I’m not gonna start judging you about it. You’re cute, sweaty palms or not.”

You nearly choke. “If I can’t ask you to stop listening to my thoughts, can you please be quiet about them?”

“That’s also impossible since talking is an integral part of my charm.” He leans back to his chair. “I’m pretty good with my mouth.”

That was… a poor choice of words, you think, as you stare at his lips and can’t help but wonder what can that mouth do other than talking. You take a bite of the bagel you just ordered, desperately trying to avert your attention.

“It wasn’t a poor choice of words.” He winks. “I did mean that in every way possible.”

This time, you really are choking.

“Okay, so what’s happening to us?” Donghyuck questions, after you manage to shed a tear or two during your attempt in relieving your throat. “Why have I been hearing your thoughts? I don’t even know you.”

“Same here.” You’re still going through a hard time keeping eye contact with him, but with more seconds passing by—and him pronouncing every bit of your thoughts out in the open—the knots inside your chest begin to loosen. “Ever since I turned twenty, I’ve been hearing these songs playing in my head that I’d never even heard of.”

“Never heard of?” Donghyuck snorts. “What, you never listen to Billboard’s top forty?”

You weakly shrug. “I prefer indie music better. Or instrumentals.”

“I would say that you have a soul of an old lady but the way you’ve been thinking about my lips reminds me of my sister who’s going through puberty.”

“Okay, this isn’t fair.” You shake your head, ashamed and tired of being humiliated over something you can’t fix. “Why can you hear my thoughts but I can’t hear yours?”

“Believe me, you’re much better off this way.” His face contorts in pain which makes you feel somewhat sorry if he’s not constantly being an ass about it. Hearing your insult, he notes, “Also, I’d prefer to be called with terms of endearment in the future, if that’s okay with you. Something like Babe or Darling.” The way he raises his eyebrow is just strictly illegal. “And in return, I’ll call you Sweetheart.” But before you can say anything—or run toward a running bus to put an end to this endless humiliation—he questions, “Wait, when you hear the songs I’ve been thinking in my head, does it sound like the original version of the song, or like me singing it?”

Finally, a proper conversation. “If you’re listening to the actual music, I can hear the original song as if I’m hearing it through my headphones. But when you’re just thinking about it, well, I‘ve never heard you sing, but,” you decide to tease him back—which startles you from how blatant you’re being. “From how amateur and pitchy this voice sounded in my head, I think I’ve been hearing yours.”

“Cute.” He scrunches up his nose. “Okay, let’s try again. Can you hear what song running through my head now?”

You stiffen, sitting in silence. After a few seconds pass by with only you exchanging stern stares at each other, your eyes gleam with a spark of hope. “Wait, I can’t hear you. Does this mean it stops? Because we’ve met in person?”

“Sadly no, because I was just thinking about how silly you looked when you choked over your food earlier.” He chuckles to himself and sends you another wink when you degrade him in your head. “Okay, let’s try again.”

“For real this time?”

“For real this time, Sweetheart.” He closes his eyes, holding back a smile when he catches how you flinch a little at his pet name for you. This time, you really do hear him humming inside your mind. “Don’t tell me by words,” he immediately adds, “Just think about them.”

Heaving a sigh, you close your eyes too. I’ve heard this song somewhere.

“If you’ve never heard about this song, I will literally cry and apologize to the world on your behalf.”

Be quiet, please, I’m trying to concentrate.

“Worried that you’d be thinking about my lips again?”

You almost fall from your seat. Almost. Okay, you’re singing to… You knit your eyebrows together as you provide your best effort to remember the tunes. You’re singing to Super Mario Bros theme song?

“Correct.” He taps his fingers to the table, simpering. “This is actually pretty cool. We can be, like, partners in crime or something.”

You shudder. “Please don’t tell me you’re an actual criminal.”

“If looking this handsome is a crime then I am, yes. Guilty as charged.” He makes a kissy face when you think about throwing the rest of your bagel to his head. “You look like someone who writes fan-fiction about their idols having sappy first kisses in your spare time but you’re actually pretty wild in your head, aren’t you?” He loves seeing your reactions, you know that, so you give your all in trying to act nonchalant. “Now, let’s try again. Did you bring your headphones with you?”

You check your coat’s pocket. “I got my AirPods.”

“Perfect. Put them on and play something from your phone.” As someone who’s pretty carefree, he can get serious at times. “Play as loud as you can until you feel like you’re going deaf.”

“I’ve tried that many times.” You nearly wail at the memory. “But it’s hard to drown your voice since it comes from inside my head.”

“Yeah, I know that. I’ve been hearing your thoughts too, remember? Don’t you think I would at least try something like that?” You narrow your eyes menacingly at him but he simply waves you off. “Anyway, that’s not what I’m trying to do. Put them on and you’ll see.”

He’s ordering you around. He just met you and he’s ordering you around. Socializing with people in general already zaps your energy pretty quickly, so socializing with a brat—

“I’ll grow on you, don’t worry.” He smirks and you take a mental note to really learn how to control your thoughts this time.

You follow his lead, as requested, connecting your AirPods to your phone and play something relaxing—because God knows how desperately you need it—as loudly as you can bear. Okay, go try… whatever it is that you want to try.

He smiles and shifts slightly on his seat, facing the window. His eyes glimmer under the light when he parts his lips, mouthing some words—no, singing something that you can’t hear.

Wait. I can’t hear?

Donghyuck glances at you, a grin breaking further on his lips upon hearing your thought. He gestures to you to take your AirPods away and you nod. Vacation Manor’s You promptly fades as his voice enters, and it’s weird because you’ve heard him sing in your head so many times yet it doesn’t do justice to how beautiful he sounds in real life.

It’s almost angelic, the sound he makes, which is kind of ironic for a little devil that he is. His honeyed voice is soothing, almost like the patter of rain on your window at dawn, lulling you back to sleep. You’re no expert in music but to you, he sounds impeccable that you run out of words to describe how pleasant his voice is to your ears. It’s so distinct, soulful—

Donghyuck giggles. “Thanks.”

—and annoying. “Okay, so what happened?” You try to divert the topic. “I can’t hear you when you’re singing out loud, but I can hear it when you’re thinking about a song?”

“I guess so.” He furrows his eyebrows, deep within his thoughts. “I figured it out when I couldn’t hear your thoughts whenever you spoke out loud. I think we can work from this?”

“So instead of thinking about what I have to say, I should focus more on saying what I want to say?” You shake in horror. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“What, you don’t like talking?”

“I’m…” You swallow your breath. “I’m not really good at that.”

“You’re talking to me just fine now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, because you make it so easy.”

“Aaw,” he purrs, a lopsided smile painting his face. “Thanks, Sweetheart.”

“No.” You hold up a hand. “I mean, since you can hear my thoughts, I have no other choice but to speak. Also, you seem like you’re the type who just says whatever that comes to mind without worrying too much about my feelings—”

“Hey, now you’re just making me sound rude—”

“You are rude,” You emphasize. “But it works well with me because then I don’t have to hold myself back and pretend to be somebody else.”

“Why do you have to pretend?” He frowns. “Because you’re afraid people are gonna hate you? Judge you on your words?”

“It’s…” You look away, nibbling on your bottom lip. “I just… I’m trying to be a good person so people will like me—”

“I like you,” he says casually as if he was talking about having a cute Pomeranian as a pet, and there you are, almost fainting in your seat. “I mean, in the last forty minutes I’ve known you, I think you’re great the way you are. You don’t have to be good, you just have to be you.” He shifts closer, crossing his arms on the table, and lays his chin on them, gazing up at you with a soft smile that doesn’t match well with his previous attitude. “Don’t you think it’s great if people accept you the way you are?”

You hurriedly take a sip of your coffee, pretending to swallow even if it’s already empty. “You’re… not so bad yourself.”

“What was that?”

“Okay, well I think I should go.” There’s no way you’re gonna repeat that. Donghyuck titters, taking a hold of your wrist when you’re about to stand up from your seat.

“We still have loads to talk about.” You observe the way his fingers linger around your arm, his sun-kissed skin feels silky smooth against your own. “Why don’t we have lunch together? My treat?”

“D-don’t you have work to do?”

“I’ll make an excuse.” 

A barista with the word Jeno written on his name tag walks by and slaps Donghyuck on the back of his head as if it’s something he’s done on a daily basis—probably is. “You’re not going anywhere, asswipe, get back to work.”

When the brunette boy turns to you, he winces. “Or maybe you can give me your number so we can meet up later?”

***

A/N: I’m both nervous and excited for this as this is my first collaboration. Thank you so much, Denise, for having me on this wonderful collab!

[stylesberries]

Masterlist

Last Updated: 07/07/21

Thank you guys so much for all the love that you’re giving my writings. It makes me so happy to know that they’re people who enjoy reading things I write. I will be definitely adding to this masterlist, so this is not all you’ll get from me ;) - Hamida

♥ - indicates fluff

✪ - indicates smut

☹ - indicates angst

Bundle Of Love ♥

Harry reflecting upon his love for Y/N.

Despite the fact that you’ve only been dating for a couple of months, he still knew you better than he knew himself. Every stir and every little sound you made in your sleep. To everyone before him they were just stirs and sounds, but for him they had a meaning. He never lets them slip without noticing. He watches your every move carefully to make sure that he makes you the happiest he possibly can and even if that is the case, he still does everything possible to make sure you’re even happier.

Call Me H ✪ ♥

You both walk straight to Harry’s hotel room because you can’t keep hands off of each other anymore. (Is a logical continuation to Stay With Me, but can be read separately.)

“You’re very sweet, Harry. There is just one problem.”

Your eyes become a bottomless well and Harry feels himself drowning in its waters. The curiosity grows in him when he hears mystery in the way the words leave your mouth.

“What problem?” He whispers innocently, his eyes darting at you.

“I really want to fuck you.”

City Lights ♥

Harry asks you a very important question as you drive through the streets of Rome.

The hand wrapped around your side, carefully going in circles, the repeating motions slowly soothing your anxiety.

Harry lowered his head and his lips touched the top of your ears. The warm breath created vibrations against your skin and sent a charge of electricity through your body.

I really love you.

Daddy ✪

Harry wins a Grammy. You weren’t able to be there. Or were you?

“Aren’t you coming in?” Harry asked Jeff as he exited the car, his hand wrapped under his new Grammy.

“I’m not. Enjoy the night, man. You deserve it.” Jeff spoke weirdly as he closed the door behind Harry and waved at him with a suspicious smile on his face.

“Enjoy my night? Don’t you want to come in and drink with me a bit befo-” Harry spoke as he watched the car with Jeff in it drive off.

Egocentric ♥ ☹

Memories of a fight with Harry overflow you, as you wander around the house and end up playing Fine Line on vinyl.

As the first few seconds of the song echoed through the room, I found myself being dragged into a different atmosphere. The one my mental state wouldn’t let me go in without crying.

All of the insecurities and doubts, that I have been overflown with, came over me and dragged me down with them.

Fireflies ♥

Harry has been acting weird for a couple of weeks, but when y/n finally finds out the truth, it’s far from what she assumed.

“Harry, what’s behind your back?” You asked straightforwardly.

He looked uncomfortable and seemed to have been taken aback by your question.

“It’s um-” He brought his hands forward. They held a black folder visibly full of papers. “It’s m’folder with song ideas.” He seemed unsure of the statement himself, but you put the blame on the fact, that he was left dumbfounded by your actions. What was that about though?

Flower Field ♥

Harry accidentally breaks his favorite guitar, which makes it an obvious choice of a present for his upcoming birthday.

“Is it small enough for me to carry it around?” Harry tried his best to guess what exactly you were getting him. He’d been like this since the early morning when you wouldn’t tell him what you’ve gotten for him.

“It’s not small, but you can carry it around.” It was the first question, for which your answer wasn’t exactly a “no”, so Harry smiled, thinking he’s finally onto something. The party took place in a closed down restaurant that you all would go to once in a while. There weren’t many guests. Just the closest friends. “Knowing Harry, it’s probably hundreds of people.” You thought.

Full Of You ✪

It’s your birthday and Harry has an idea of a birthday present.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Harry’s hold tightening around your body and his face snuggling into the crook of your neck. You whined, fighting for a couple more well-earned minutes of sleep.

“Nopies, bunny. Don’t whine at me. We have a long day ahead of us.” Harry excitedly informs you and lets his hands snake over your sides. Your boyfriend moves his mouth over to your ear and whispers this time. “It’s my love’s birthday today.”

Gucci Jumpsuit ♥

Harry pampering Y/N despite her attempts to stop him.

“They have the heels you love. The black ones, you know? They have those in pastel colours. Wouldn’t y’love that?”

“Harr-” I tried to say something in between his Ted Talk on why exactly I have to try those shoes he is talking about.

“And we could look for jeans f’you. You wanted wide leg jeans, remember?” He continued, without pausing even for a second.

Heat ✪

Your boi’s too vanilla for your liking. He refuted that tho.

As he filled you, even more tears started flowing. Your vision turned blurry and your head felt light. All you could feel was the stretch you craved so badly.

“Daddy, please fuck me.” Words leaving your mouth without a single thought in your head. You didn’t care that you’ve never got to ask him if he was actually into such things before, acting purely on instinct. All you wanted was to be filled. All you needed was the sensation of being penetrated by the man you loved.

Love On Tour ♥ ✪

Your parents are coming to meet him but you chose to keep it a secret.

“He deserves to know.” You thought. He was going to meet them today anyways. “He won’t have time to get too nervous, right?” You kept debating on whether or not you should tell him the truth.

Your brows furrowed and your lips were pressed tight together. Harry took a look down at you, and his brows creased as well.

My Princess ✪

You tag along with Harry to his Vogue shoot. The dress is definitely a turn on.

“Ah, please,” Harry whined, letting you wrap your arm around his waist holding him from running away from your wet tongue.

“Please what, baby?” You teased him further, running your nails against the wet trace along his spine.

“Please, touch me.” He begged, pushing his back against your chest in hopes that your arm would move a little lower and touch his crotch even though he knew how much you hated it when he wasn’t patient.

Rainbow Cardigan ♥ ✪

Harry loses his favorite cardigan. You learn how to knit. (Based on the JW Anderson cardigan knitting trend.)

“I cannot lose it. I can’t. What if it’s lost forever? How could I let it out of my sight?” The sight of him so genuinely saddened by the situation made you let out a sigh. You were full of compassion and understanding, trying to remember the last time you saw the poor cardigan. Failing to do so, you turned to your crushed boyfriend and tried to get information out of him.

Right Choice ✪

Harry has a moustache now and you want to get it sticky.

“I’m all for it, so it’s up to you.” Harry nodded and started applying the shaving cream onto his cheeks.

“Just know that you have to eat me out whenever you’re done here because I’m dripping.”

Shattered Glass ☹

You feel overwhelmed by intrusive thoughts and memories of traumatic events. Glass is shattered.

“Hm?” You let your eyes fall on his gentle and almost all-knowing expression.

“I said I know what you’re doing. You’re letting things get to you. I know you can’t stop the flow of thoughts but at least let me know what’s bothering you so I can try to help.” He spoke softly and chose every next word with care as he knew that if he picked the wrong words you would close off even more.

Stay With Me ♥

You meet Harry and fall in love to the art and architecture of Rome.

“You looked very passionate and I would love it if we could sit and discuss it maybe? I know it sounds weird coming from a stranger-” He paused.

“You bet, crazy man.” You thought to yourself and giggled softly, realizing that the possibility that this ball of nerves is a human trafficker is close to zero.

Vegan Cupcakes ☹

You and Harry have been quarantined together and he needs space.

Spending most of the spring together didn’t feel as suffocating for Harry as summer did. Your classes were over and you didn’t take a summer semester, so your time fully revolved around him. Which he liked.

In the beginning.

Until you clung on him like a koala for days and made him cuddle you all the time, which he enjoyed a lot until it became a routine. Harry couldn’t even tell you how he felt because it would hurt your feelings, so he didn’t say anything at all, keeping it all to himself.

Wooden Floor ☹ ♥

Reuniting with Harry after being apart during the quarantine made you realize something.

When I met Harry, and we started dating, I promised myself to give him space and not suffocate him with my love, for I was scared, that he would leave me like everyone before him did.

I had never been loved so much. I had never experienced what I gave people myself. The endless love and loyalty. Harry gave me his all, and I started feeling bad for not showing all of the love I had for him, and yet I still feared losing him because of my obsessive nature.

I sat at the kitchen table and scrolled through our texts with Harry.

© all right belong to stylesberries. do not repost or modify.

[simpingforsoftboys]

Curiosity Killed the Cat

ft. Kuroken

G/N Reader

Read this first

Mini Series Here

Thanks so much for the request anon! I actually went back and forth with this- but I’m finally satisfied with how this turned out! Hope you enjoy!

Kenma hated these types of events. Blaring music, flashing lights, horny drunk people, crowded spaces. Yes, parties were the worst- but it wasn’t like he could tell Kuroo “no, I’m not going to attend your best friend’s 27th birthday party just because.” Which is why they’re in Osaka and not Tokyo at the moment. Kuroo had gone off to god knows where- claiming he was going to get some drinks for them- but that was 15 minutes ago and he still hadn’t returned. Shoyo was arriving late, so there was no one the dyed blonde felt comfortable with speaking too. Seeing no other option, he decided to seek Kuroo out on his own. 

“Excuse me.” The short male muttered as he nudged people aside to get to the bar. No one seemed to mind, too caught up in their dancing- probably thanks to their alcohol induced haze. His skin crawled in disgust as he passed by some chick who was making out with Miya Atsumu- if Shoyo was right with his suspicions, Sakusa Kiyoomi would not be happy. He pushed that thought aside. Eventually he made it to the bar- successfully locating Kuroo. “I was waiting what’s-” He was shut up by his fiance’s hand over his mouth. 

“Shh... look over there, across the counter- is that Y/n?” Kenma followed where Kuroo was pointing, they couldn’t see the persons face, but they had a similar figure and skin tone to your own. Suddenly the person turned- but they realized that it wasn’t you. 

It had been two, nearly three years since your emotional breakup, and they still found themselves looking for you in every room they entered. Kenma hadn’t gotten over his love for you- he doubted he ever would, but it was just another thing he had learned to live with. Kuroo slowly began to realize how much of an impact you had on his daily life, things he had previously taken for granted like a homemade meal at the end of a long day, hot bath prepped and ready, folded clothes and cute little notes. Those things were gone now, so he and Kenma had to step up and do it- until eventually they just decided to hire someone to do it for them. It wasn’t the same- sure, the housekeeper did an amazing job, but the difference was palpable. It sounded dumb but they could just feel the lack of love- your absence had created a void in the large penthouse. 

It had taken time, but Tetsuro realized that yeah, he did love you- not as much as Kenma- yet, it was a tangible love all the same. Which is why it hurt him that day- not only because you left them, but because you didn’t feel loved by him. He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry at you- that was his own doing. All you had done was leave him with happy memories. 

Kenma found himself reverting back to his old habits. Their home was a lot lonelier without you. Kuroo often went on weeks- if not months long- business trips for the volleyball association, leaving Kenma home alone for lengthy periods of time. No longer did he have you to keep him company or monitor his sleeping or eating habits. Even his viewers had noticed his unhealthy lifestyle and urged him to take better care of himself, but it wasn’t the same. So, without anyone there to stop him, he would fall into ruin- because then, when he was exhausted or kept occupied by the newest trending game title- he wouldn’t be thinking about all that he was missing. 

Neither of them had spoken- or even checked up on you since that day, those  few years ago. You had blocked them on everything, made your accounts private, changed your phone number, and asked your mutual friends to not share anything about you with them. It hurt- because how can you so easily shut out the people you love- but after much thought and consideration, they realize you had to be hurting twice as bad as they did. Unlike them, you had the time to simmer in your pain, hurt, and longing, while they remained oblivious. 

Ignorance was bliss.

The two of them left Bokuto’s party early that night, Kuroo said something about an emergency Skype meeting in the morning as an excuse. In actuality they found themselves driving to one of your favorite restaurants- they hadn’t stepped a foot inside the establishment since the last time they ate here with you. But- as it was for many things apparently- tonight seemed to be one all about stepping out of their comfort zones. 

“What are you getting?” Kuroo tried to act casual, but Kenma had known him much too long to fall for his act. 

“I think I’ll get (f/f).” 

Kuroo nodded. “I think I will too.” Neither of them particularly liked (f/f), but it had been your go to order. Maybe by being here and eating the familiar dish, they could pretend that they were simply on a date as a triad- and you were running late- instead of dealing with the reality that they were a couple now and not a throuple. 

Their food arrives and they dig in, eating slowly, eyes shutting occasionally, it seems like they’re merely savoring the flavor- when in reality they’re trying to picture you dining with them. No words are exchanged between the two- they’re together yes, but it’s somehow a lonely occasion all the same. 

If you were here, the table would be filled with easy conversation- you were always so neutral when you spoke, teasing when you felt particularly daring (they realize now that this was such a rarity because you were hesitant about starting an altercation- which no one should have to be afraid of in any relationship). Kenma would let himself loosen up and exchange snarky words with Kuroo, who quipped back savagely, and you would watch them- laughter spilling from your lips. Too bad they didn’t try harder to include you in the conversation- not that they intentionally alienated you- just that they were enjoying themselves too much to bat an eye in your direction. 

Yeah, it was better for you that you weren’t here. That was a fact they still had trouble stomaching. 

They hear the restaurant’s door opening in the background, but don’t care enough to look who entered. It doesn’t matter to either of the two that it’s late at night and logically there shouldn’t be anyone else here but them. Their imagined scenario is much more appealing than real life. 

“Put me down Tsutomu!” A male scolds from the lobby area, despite their best efforts, they’re unable to block the newcomers voices out. 

Another male laughs in response. “Calm down Kenji, I got you!” 

“Hahah! Why are you so red Kenji-” Someone else adds, this person’s voice is familiar. Kenma and Tetsuro freeze at the sound. It’s kind of weird how they recognize it- despite having slowly forgotten what it sounded like over the course of passing time. You know how each time you recall a memory it actually ends up altering it a little? That’s how it was with your voice. Eventually their recollection of it was changed to the point that they couldn’t quite remember how exactly your laughter sounded, or even how your pitch changed with various moods. 

Their ears were filled with you- wonderful, gorgeous, breathtaking you- the one who cared too much and pushed aside prioritizing yourself until eventually you couldn’t take it anymore. The Y/n that they still, could never seem to love enough- even now. But it was dissimilar all the same, since you sounded so happy, so content- what was weird was that they didn’t even need to see your face to confirm it. 

Neither of them dare to look in your direction, afraid that you’d disappear right before their eyes. It isn’t until they see your approaching figure in their peripheral that they glance over. 

You’re positively glowing. It feels like you’re an entire galaxy- so far and out of reach- and they’re merely stargazers. They’re stuck on Earth, forever fated to watch and appreciate your splendor from an impossibly wide distance.

The purple-nearly black haired man that accompanies you pulls your chair out, gesturing to your seat with exaggerated motions. You laugh, sitting down in the most graceful manner possible and let him push your seat in. He places a kiss to your temple before going to pull out a chair for the other brown haired male- whose cheeks are still tinted red. 

The three of you order appetizers and speak about many things- Kuroo can overhear ‘volleyball’ and ‘hospital’ mentioned somewhere in the mix. The two men- your apparent lovers- don’t even have to make an effort to include you in their conversation, it’s like second nature for them, just as it should have been for him and Kenma. They listen intently as you ramble on about whatever, the shorter brown haired one adding his two cents in occasionally, while the taller male questions or presses you for more details. 

“Kuroo I’m not hungry anymore.” Kenma says, and only now does Tetsuro notice how upset his fiance is. Normally the half blonde is composed and neutral, but right now his face is scrunched up like he smelt something sour. The feeling is mutual. He isn’t happy with the situation either. 

"Do you want to head back to the hotel?”

“No, let’s stay a little longer.” 

So they stay, silently watching as you make lively conversation with your lovers. Observing as you polish off your plates and finish dessert, they’re still seated when the throuple pays the bill and walks out the exit. Eventually the elderly owner comes out and asks them if they want to order anything else- a polite way of letting them know that they’ve overstayed their welcome. 

They tell her no, pay their own bill, and head back to their car. They sit there in the parking lot a little longer.

“Hey Kenma.” Kuroo murmurs, fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

“Hm?” Kenma hums.

“Do you think we could have made it work?” It’s a question that they’ve never actually voiced out loud- not even once- in the years since the breakup.

“Why do you ask? You already know the answer.” Is what he receives in response. Kenma’s right, he did know.

“I... guess I needed to hear it.” He says lamely.

He turns the key and starts the ignition. They drive back to their hotel in silence. 

They made their beds a long time ago. So it’s only right that they lie in it- even if the bedsheets are uncomfy and the blanket threatens to suffocate them.

Kenma regrets wondering about how you were doing now. At least before tonight he was able to take comfort in the fact that you still might be in love with them.

The old idiom was right. Curiosity killed the cat. And he certainly felt like he was dying.

A/N: Believe it or not the inspo behind this was the song Good Stuff by Griff. I really liked the whole idea of Kuroken x reader ending on semi good terms. The difference between how their emotions for the reader portrayed here vs IwaOi is an example of this. Unlike IwaOi, Kuroken is able to identify their emotions when given time and space, they’re not necessarily prideful and can acknowledge that despite being broken up with, they’re still the ones who were left with “the good stuff.”

They miss you sure, but they know it’s unfair to want you to come back to them when they’ll never be able to love you as they should. So they don’t even bother wishing or seeking you out. Of course, they do their best to maintain some semblance of a connection to you (like why they look for you in crowded rooms and eat your favorite food), but they’re fine with remaining curious. Of course no one can remain willfully ignorant forever though.

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 9: On-screen Lover

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Be My Only)

…in which Harry struggles with acting for the first time in his life.

Warning: smut.

Word count: 6.1k

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Chapter 8: Sweet 25 - Y/N feels alone at Harry’s birthday party.

Wattpad link

A/N: The song mentioned in the chapter is Don't Keep Driving by The Paper Kites. This chapter is also inspired by The Archer by Taylor Swift (this is where all the anxiety comes from).

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Squirming in the soft, warm sheets, Y/N rubbed the remainders of sleep from her eyes to greet the rose-pink light of dawn. She supposed this was something most people would consider beautiful, but she didn't. Perhaps waking up grumpy and alone had clouded her judgment.

She slowly sat up, clinging on to the very last memory of the night before, but with little success. She remembered her and Harry drinking in the back of her car after the party. She remembered having sex on this bed — hot, intense, mind-blowing sex, which caused her to think it might've been just a crazy wet dream. Maybe he had never been here, maybe her brain had made everything up. But soon her doubt was washed away as she saw what he'd left on the nightstand.

Y/N lazily brushed her hair into place with her fingers and picked up the pink notebook to find a sticky note attached to the first page.

Morning, baby!

I was supposed to give this to you after my birthday party, but we got carried away and I forgot. Enjoy reading the other notes.

Your one and only,

Harry :)

Curious, Y/N flipped through her journal to find plenty of colorful sticky notes filled with his sloppy, yet adorable, handwriting. For every entry about him, he'd written a little message to retell the event from his point of view. He talked about how he'd felt when they first met in the treehouse, when he lost Thumper, when she kissed him for the first time and ran away...All the things he had wanted to say to her, but never had a chance to. And for her final entry, he'd added a line right next to her last one.

Your girl, always. (Now you're really my girl, always)

That morning, Y/N strolled down the streets of London, looking like she'd just won the lottery. She felt elated, her footsteps were light as a feather as she not only dodged between grumpy morning pedestrians but also said hello to them. She couldn't wait to see Eddie's reaction to her showing up this early. He would probably freak or even throw on a raincoat in case it started raining indoors.

"Good mor—"

"I'm in emotional distress!" Alice cried out the second Y/N walked in. "Harry Styles has a girlfriend!"

Those words froze her to the spot. She looked at Alice with her mouth agape, but Alice didn't give her time to let that sink in. The girl yanked the phone from Eddie, who was sitting quietly behind the counter, and showed Y/N a photo on Twitter.

"This just got released this morning. He was kissing someone at his birthday party last night!"

Y/N peered at the shot, feeling like her chest might explode. Fortunately, it'd been taken with a terrible camera, from a bad angle that you could mostly see Harry's back. But that one poor quality photo was all it took for Harry Styles to trend on Twitter. Fans were going insane and wanted to know the identity of this 'lucky girl'. Some, especially those who shipped him with Ruby, like Alice here, weren't thrilled at all.

"I'm going to kill myself. True love doesn't exist." Alice slammed her hands on the counter and dropped her head on them dramatically.

Eddie seemed concerned, yet too afraid to speak, so he signaled Y/N to say something.

"Hey, Al, I think..." Y/N trailed off as she shrugged off her coat and hung it up. "I think maybe Ruby and Harry are just...you know...normal friends...They're co-stars after all."

Alice groaned even louder, making Eddie roll his eyes. He nudged her with a pen and said, "at least now you know Ruby's not taken."

The girl lifted her contorted face to glare at him. "Oh please, as if one of us has a shot with her!" But then her eyes lit up, and she turned to Y/N. "Hey, you were at the party last night, right?"

"W-what?"

"I saw the story Isaac posted of you eating sushi."

"Oh, yeah." Y/N faked a laugh. "But I didn't see anything. I was in the house most of the time."

"Was Harry talking to someone there more than the others?"

"N-no, he was with his manager the whole night."

"What about Ruby? Was she there?"

Y/N parted her lips to speak, but thankfully, Eddie cut in, "give her a break, Al. She said she didn't know. Now please get to work."

"Fine!" Alice gave him a shrug. "Guess I'll be at the back using the new books to wipe my tears."

"Hey, if you do that I'll cut down your salary, ya hear me?!" Eddie shouted at the girl before turning back to Y/N.

The poor girl was still in shock. After all, it was the first time she'd gone viral. Though nobody had figured out it was her, she knew it was her in the photo, kissing Harry. And he wasn't just her Harry, he also belonged to everyone who knew and loved him. This feeling in the pit of her stomach made her feel sick. Her heart was beating like a drum, and her palms soaked with sweat. She didn't realize she'd spaced out until Eddie's voice pulled her back to reality.

"Y/N! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." She nodded fast.

Maybe she was naturally good at faking smiles, maybe Eddie was insensible to her feelings. Either way, she was glad he changed the topic.

"You're not gonna be here on Monday, right?" he asked, to her surprise.

It took her a second to realize that he was talking about Celine's wedding. "Right," she confirmed. "I'll be gone for a week."

The man clicked his tongue in frustration as he heard. "Oh God, I hope Alice's mental state will go back to normal soon."

"Has she ever been normal?"

"You're right. She's always been a little off. Now she's just worse." Sighing, Eddie fixed his glasses and went on, "are you going to the wedding alone? If you need a wedding date, I'm always available."

Wedding date. The voice inside her head sighed at those two words. Celine and Amala still thought that Harry would come back to Holmes Chapel with her to attend their wedding. They didn't know that their best friend was too afraid to ask him, for she already knew what the answer would be. There was no way he could squeeze a wedding in his tight schedule.

"I already have a date." She felt bad for lying to Eddie. But since when did she feel bad for lying? Being in love had really changed her.

"Guess I'm gonna have to take my mum to the movies next weekend," Eddie said with a shrug. "But I'm happy for you, Y/N. I showed up at my aunt's wedding alone and they put me in the kids' table. You wouldn't want that."

"Maybe because you look like one."

"Shut up!" The man waved her off and fixed his glasses. "Okay, get to work. I have to make sure Alice's not crying on my new books."

"Okay, love you, Ed!"

"You don't!"

Eddie had just walked away when Yellow by Coldplay blasted from Y/N's pocket. She didn't need to check who it was, because she'd set that ringtone especially for him.

"Hi." A corner of her mouth lifted as she could feel him smirking on the phone. "They gave us a five-minute break and I miss you," said Harry. His voice was raspy and low, so she imagined him hiding somewhere to make this call. The thought of them being secretive and sneaky when in public always excited her. She loved to think of them as the modern Romeo and Juliet, of course, minus the dying part.

Y/N rested her elbow on the countertop as she held the phone at her ear. "I miss you too," she said, grinning. "Saw your little surprise this morning. I loved it."

"I knew you would." He chuckled lowly. "Have you read any of my notes?"

"Just a few. I'll read the rest when I get home."

"Good." Again, the sound of his stupid smirk made the butterflies in her stomach soar. She found herself picking at the wood and chewing on her lip, like a nervous fourteen-year-old talking to her crush on the phone.

She hated to ruin this happy moment for them, but her anxiety didn't let her enjoy it fully. "Hey, baby," Y/N lowered her voice. "Have you seen the photo?"

"Yeah." He breathed. She could imagine his smile slowly fading. "It's awfully blurry though. No one knows it's you."

"It's taken from inside the house, H."

"I know. My team's trying to find out who took it. I bet it's the Declan twins."

Or Ruby, Y/N thought to herself, but decided not to say it aloud.

"Don't worry, kid. Whoever took that photo probably didn't even know it was you, or else they would've told the whole world already. Everything's fine."

Though Harry sounded calm, she didn't know for sure if that was how he actually felt. However, there was nothing she could do now but to leave it all to him. She'd signed up for this, and now she had to go with the flow.

"Hey, I have something to tell you," she changed the subject. This might not be the best time to pop the question, but since Eddie had brought up the whole 'wedding date' thing, she thought it wouldn't hurt to just ask. "So I'm going back to Holmes Chapel in two days, and I'll stay there for a week for Celine and Amala's wedding."

"You already told me that." He chuckled.

"Yeah, but...like..." Just say it, God damn it! "Would you like to go with me?"

"Back home?"

"I mean...yeah...Would you like to come as my...wedding date? I mean, only if you're free next weekend."

There was a long pause. And his answer was exactly what she had expected. "I'm really sorry, love," he said with a heavy sigh. What came next, however, was completely out of nowhere. "I'll be in Paris for the next two weeks."

"P-Paris?" She felt a lump in a throat and struggled to release the words from her mouth. "You'll be in Paris for what?"

"We're filming some scenes there. I'm...I'm actually...leaving in two days. I was going to tell you last night but..."

Two days?!

"How long have you known about this?"

"Uh..."

"Harry!"

"S-since the first day we started shooting."

His answer felt like an ice bucket in the face for her. She was surprised she hadn't hung up on him yet. "So you've known since the day we officially got together and kept it from me this whole time?"

"No, that's not—" He stopped himself with a hiss. "The trip was supposed to be at the end of next month, but they've made a few changes—"

"I don't care if it's next week or next month! You knew, and you didn't tell me!"

"I'm really sorry." His voice lowered. "Are you...are you mad at me?"

"I'm not," she said, staring at the ceiling.

"Really?" he questioned as if testing the water. "Because I'm pretty mad at myself."

"Look, it's fine. We'll talk more about it tonight, okay?"

"Promise you're not mad at me?"

"Harry..."

"Promise me, please!"

"Fine! I promise I'm not mad at you." Y/N exhaled. She wished she could be mad at him, but then again, people who were in love didn't feel and think the way normal people did in certain situations. With this man, Y/N knew she had gone too far from being sane.

"Good," Harry happily said, probably wearing that boyish grin that she adored. "Now say you love me."

"I love you. Gosh, you're such a baby sometimes."

"I love you too, Bambi," he responded with a light chuckle. "See you at home."

It was the first time he'd referred to her cheap flat as 'home'. He probably didn't even think when he said it. Still, it meant so much to her. It made her feel secure even though this was the most insecure position she had ever been in. And so she kept replaying the word in her head and telling herself that everything would be just fine.

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Harry stepped into the shower, fully clothed, toes flinching as they touched the cool tiled floor. His mind was in shreds as he watched the drops trickled down her bare back and slowly looked up to meet her questioning stare. Guilt washed over him like a tidal wave, but he refused to acknowledge it.

Ruby didn't say a word, not asking him to leave, not asking him to stay. She turned her head and resumed bathing her skin gently, letting the lukewarm water darken her hair. The unfamiliar melody she was humming got Harry distracted as he stepped forward, and circled his strong arms around her little waist. He pulled her in, pressing her naked form firmly against his clothed chest. Now his face and neck were flushed, not just because of the steamy shower.

The ex-lover ran her hands across his arms and her body shuddered at his slightest touch. Slowly, she turned around, their eyes met once again. The air almost drained out of his lungs as he finally found the courage to reach for her face. His fingertips followed the water streaming down her cheeks to her neck, then her shoulders and her arms. Ruby breathed out gently as goosebumps pimpled her skin.

Her voice was soft. "I thought you wouldn't come back."

"I...I had to," Harry faltered. "I missed you...so much."

She gave him a bashful smile and then guided his hands to her hips. "I know you did," she said contently.

Without breaking their eye contact, she began to unbutton his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. Her palms smoothed across the tattoos on his chest, the ones that she'd touched and kissed and tasted too many times before. As she lifted her face, Harry lowered his head.

"Take me," she murmured, her lips ghosting over his. "Show me how much you missed me."

His entire body was on fire, but it wasn't the kind of burn that brought him comfort. Now he was gawking at the naked girl without blinking. Shit. What was he supposed to say next?

"Cut!"

Harry snapped back to reality as all the lights came on and the director told the whole crew to take five. As he followed Ruby out of the shower, two girls from her team came with a big towel to help her get dry and into her robe. The ones on his team tried to do the same to him, but he waved them off and took the towel to do it himself.

"Mon Dieu! What's going on between you two?" asked the French lady in the quirky satin dress as she pointed to Ruby, her eyes on him. "Do you hate her?"

"N-no, I—"

"Then stop acting like you do!" she cried out. "Harry, sweetheart, I love you to death but that was terrible! You were supposed to be her amant, the lover who kept coming back every time she pushed you away! You were supposed to love her more than anything in this world! That wasn't what I saw back there. It felt like she loved you completely and you didn't even want to be with her."

"I'm sorry, Eva. I'll...I'll fix it."

"Non!" The director shook her head. "You cannot do that alone. Both of you, talk to each other and work things out! We'll shoot another scene later and will do this scene again tomorrow."

"But—"

"Early lunch for everyone else!"

As Eva ignored Harry and walked off, he was left alone with Ruby and their gigantic problem. She was wearing the biggest frown, so he expected her to come at him with a her most ruthless comments. But no, she calmly took the towel around his neck and began to help him dry his hair and his face.

Flustered, he pushed her hands away. "It's...it's okay. I can do it myself."

Ruby froze for a second. Her eyes narrowed as she shoved the towel back in his hands. That was how he knew this conversation would not turn out the way their director wanted.

"Look into my eyes and be honest with me," she spoke with her arms crossed. "Do you hate me?"

"No."

"Because if you do, you should say it aloud so we can get it over with."

"I don't hate you." He breathed into his palm and shoved that hand into his damp hair. "But after what happened last night, I don't know if I even want to be around you anymore."

"What I said was wrong, but those were just harmless words!" She rolled her eyes and soon noticed the change in his expression. "Go ahead," said the actress, to his surprise. "I know what you're thinking, so go ahead and say it."

"Did you take that photo?"

"Fuck you," she spat, but made sure not to draw any attention in this room to them. "Look what she's done to you, H. You're worrying about her way too much that it starts to affect everything you do."

"She hasn't done anything to me," he grumbled as she was getting on his nerves. "But what have you done to yourself? Why are you so hateful now? I moved on and I'm in love. Why can't you just be happy for me and fucking accept that?"

Though Ruby appeared unbothered by those words, both of them knew they had never hit her harder. Even so, she didn't allow herself to look vulnerable.

"How you feel about me, and how I feel about you and that girl have nothing to do with this," she asserted, anger overtook her face. "Yes, I'm still in love with you, and I think you two are bad for each other because she will ruin your career. But when the camera starts rolling, we aren't you and me anymore, we're Elia and Jay. So if Jay cannot love Elia because Harry's afraid his little girlfriend can't handle a simple sex scene, then maybe Harry's a terrible actor and should consider giving the role to someone more deserving."

And then she stormed off, leaving him standing there with the damage her cruel and thoughtless words had done.

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When Y/N answered the call from her boyfriend, she knew right away that he was drunk. He greeted her with the loudest "I love you, my sweet Bambi!" and jabbered away just to hang up because he needed to pee. A few missed calls and unread messages later, he finally made it back to her place.

He stumbled into the flat with his hair a mess and his shirt half-untucked. The first thing he did was wrap his arms around her waist. The words "I miss you" and "I'm sorry" poured endlessly from his lips. Though drunk, he still remembered how she felt about him visiting her so late and plastered.

Last year, he'd told her that alcohol used to be his coping mechanism. Once he'd started, he didn't know how to stop. Each drink seemed like a better idea, his jokes got funnier and he could flirt with any woman he fancied. He felt more charming and witty and invincible. That was why for months after his scandalous break up with Ruby, he'd had a drinking problem which he'd proudly called therapy. And Y/N guessed it had happened again today. Something bad had happened to him at work and he needed to feel better about himself. It saddened her that he'd chosen alcohol instead of coming home and talking to her.

With a six-foot man glued to her front, Y/N struggled to reach the door and lock it with one hand. His grip around her waist tightened as he hummed into her neck, making her think he would pass out, but then he said, "I kissed her and she was naked...and I didn't like it at all..."

The little confession froze her to the spot. Y/N swallowed as she pulled away and her arms came around his neck, bringing his forehead to hers. "Kiss who? Ruby?"

He nodded with hooded eyes. "I don't wanna hurt you, but I made everyone angry. Do you...do you think...I'm a bad actor?"

"No, of course not." She cupped his flushed cheeks. Although she didn't fully understand the story, she could guess most of it. Now a part of her felt guilty knowing she was the reason he couldn't do his job. He even assumed it was his fault, that he was bad at something he'd been passionate about for most of his life.

"Wait on the couch, I'll draw you a bath," she said, changing the subject, but he kept on nuzzling her neck and refused to let her go.

"What's it that you use?" he asked quietly. "You smell like...like my mother's garden in the spring."

His lovely comparison made her smile. "That's what you would smell like if you were sober and clean."

"I am sober and clean!"

"No, you're not. You need a bath or you'll be sleeping on the couch tonight."

"Will you join me?" He puckered up his lips while slightly tugging at her t-shirt. "Take this off. Get naked and join me."

"Harry..."

"Please? I'll be good. You don't have to fuck me."

Her mouth twitched in amusement as he brushed his nose against hers. She had just taken a shower before he arrived, but a warm bath didn't sound like a bad idea. After all, she desperately needed to get rid of the smell of alcohol on her body.

Taking his hand, she led him to the bathroom and asked him to wait for her to return with some clothes and towels. However, he didn't listen and ended up following her around like a lost puppy. As they waited for the tub to get filled, he sat on the edge with her and tried to braid her hair. The steam helped sober him up, so by the time they finished taking off their clothes, he had become more self-aware.

Y/N sat between his legs, with her back against his chest and her head on his shoulder. She'd made it clear that they were both too exhausted to have sex, but once his fingers had found her clit, her moans encouraged him to continue. The next thing she knew, she was riding him. His head tilted back on his neck, and small grunts snuck passed his lips every time she sunk back down on him, fucking him slow and steady.

It started out as sweet love-making, until Harry couldn't take it anymore and gripped her hips, driving himself into her. She clung to the back of his neck with one hand, the other smacked flat to the tile wall above his head as he thrust harder, sloshing more water out of the tub. She was the first to come, shouting his name as his body tightened and his cock twitched against her sensitive walls. She rode him through his orgasm until there was nothing left of them but heavy limps, numb fingertips, and fireworks exploding in their minds.

Harry panted and bit down lightly on her shoulder as he recovered. Her eyes slowly opened and took in the sight of him chewing on his delicious lip, his brows puckered up, and his eyes lazy. She watched the tiny beads racing down his handsome face, not sure if it was sweat or their bathwater, but she knew they would have to draw another bath.

"No, Harry, I can't. I'm too tired," he mocked and his softened penis slipped out of her, making they both groan.

"You do that voice again and you'll be sucking your own dick," she warned him, her nose scrunched up. The threat made Harry chuckle as he pulled her in and kissed her twice on the mouth.

While waiting for Harry to refill the tub, Y/N went to get her phone and put her playlist on shuffle. She put the phone in a cup, placed it on the sink before joining Harry in the water again. They sat in the same position with her back against his chest.

The light in Y/N's bathroom was bright and sterile, lacking even a trace of warmth. That was why she normally hated to look at herself in her bathroom mirror. All the scars she'd got growing up would shine like a beacon under this light, and then she'd be reminded that she wasn't his perfect girl. But tonight, she wanted to stay here forever with him so he could caress all the places she hated on her body.

Half of this city turning their lights on Like half of this city has an idea Cars slowly passing right down on main street Don't keep on driving, let me say something

"What's the name of this song?" he asked, breaking the silence between them.

"Don't Keep Driving by The Paper Kites," she said with a beam. "You love it?"

He gave her a nod and nibbled at her earlobe. "It's a good song. Makes me feel like I'm driving around the city at night while it's raining."

"Exactly!" She brightened. "I listened to it on repeat while we were apart last year."

"Does it remind you of me?"

His question made her smile. Still, she never answered.

There's nothing wrong with a little space But not right now, don't leave There's nothing wrong with a little time But for the memories, for the good things Don't leave

"Did you write me those notes to make up for the Paris thing?" she asked all of a sudden.

He gave her a nod, but then realized she was facing away from him, so he spoke, "yeah."

"Hmm." Not the response he was hoping to hear.

"Have you read them all?" he went on to make sure she wasn't upset.

She didn't sound upset when she said, "not yet, I'm saving them for when you're not here."

"I'll video-call you every night to see your reaction when you read them."

His chest felt a thousand times lighter when her giggle softened the room, as if her gentle sound could turn this cold light golden and the water warmer.

His heart was full again, but at the same time, he couldn't ignore the melancholy feeling sinking in. He knew that he would miss her a lot when he was away. Two weeks wasn't a long time, but for a relationship as fragile as theirs, it could feel as long as two months or even two years. Who knew what would happen during those two weeks? They had a lot to lose now that they had each other.

Don't leave me Call me Turn around, turn around now Don't run away from me Don't leave, don't leave

The song went on, coming to an end, but its last words were still echoing in his head.

.

.

.

Harry had stayed up all night to mentally prepare himself to reshoot the sex scene. Even though Y/N had reassured him that she trusted him and understood that it was just for his role, he felt as if his lungs were on fire as he stepped into the shower and ran his hands all over his ex's body. But because Ruby continued to give him the silent treatment, he gave a better performance this time and didn't have to reshoot the scene.

Maybe he'd lulled himself into thinking if he didn't interact with Ruby off-camera, then it wouldn't feel like he was cheating on his girlfriend. But how was this fair to Y/N at all? If he were her, he wouldn't be able to stand someone else touching her the way Ruby had touched him, for a movie scene or not. Knowing his girl, he knew that even if his job did bother her, she wouldn't admit it to make him worried. That, unfortunately, made him a thousand times more anxious.

Last night, while drinking alone, he'd thought a lot about what Ruby had said. Though she was wrong about Y/N, she was right about most things, one of which was, he and Y/N might not be right for each other. At least, he might not be right for her. That thought came and went several times since he'd woken up, but he kept brushing it off. Because the last thing he needed right now was self-doubt. He'd struggled so hard to make her his, and now he was afraid that he didn't deserve to have her. That sounded absurd, stupid even. Still, he kept pondering it.

It was around 3 AM when he finished his last scene of the (previous) day. His plane to Paris departed at six-fifteen and he had to be at the airport at five, which gave him less than two hours to rest before the flight. As he got in the car, he immediately phoned his assistant to get his luggage ready and bring it to the airport. Then he asked his driver to take him to Y/N's place.

He had texted her in the afternoon that he might head straight to the airport after finishing work, and also promised to call her when he arrived in Paris. That had been the plan before he changed his mind at the last minute. He couldn't stand leaving without a proper goodbye. For such an emergency, he was glad she'd given him the key to her place. He didn't have to wake her up when he arrived.

Pulling his hoodie over his head, he went to her room, trying not to make a sound, but she had heard him come in and was already staring at the door, expecting him. She watched him take off his jeans, leaving only his t-shirt and boxers on as he slid under the duvets and cuddled her. Though her eyes were red from the lack of sleep, she was smiling, content, and at the same time, wondering.

"Aren't you supposed to be at the airport?" she asked.

"Not yet," he replied, kissing her forehead. "I'll hold you for a moment, and then I'll go."

He expected a cheeky response, but his Bambi didn't make another sound. She was just happy with the fact that he was here, so it didn't take her too long to fall back to sleep. Harry, on the other hand, couldn't close his eyes. Even though he'd set an alarm on his phone, he was wide awake and staring at the ceiling. He feared that if he took some rest, time would fly much faster, then goodbye would come much faster, and he had to leave much faster. He wasn't ready yet.

Lying still, he focused on the sound of her breathing and counted the number of times she talked in her sleep. Eleven in total. She never made sense, but he thought it was endearing because each time she spoke, she would shift closer to him. As time and space slowed down around them, unexpectedly came an ominous thought. Would she be happier if she had stayed with Isaac?

If she'd stayed with Isaac, she wouldn't have to wake up alone, she would never have to worry about her boyfriend making out with someone else and calling it acting, and she would've been able to kiss him in front of his friends at his birthday party. Scared by the thought, he squeezed her tighter. But that was also when the buzzing of his phone told him it was time for him to go.

He tried to be as careful as he could to sneak out without waking her up, but it wasn't his fault that Y/N was sensitive to the quietest noise. Slowly, she stirred awake and sat up as he did. Her voice tore down the gloomy silence of the room.

"Stay with me."

He looked over his shoulder and his heart almost broke when he saw her face. He'd never seen her like this, at least not when she was sober. His girl was tough and independent, and she'd never begged for his attention. But now she was clinging onto him like a little octopus, her face in his neck. He wished he could stay, but sadly, he wasn't the one to decide.

"I have to go now, love."

"No." She shook her head, pouting slightly. He was caught off guard when she snuck her fingers into his boxers and slowly stroked his hardened length up and down.

"Bambi, no." He gasped, his nostrils flared and so did his pupils. Quickly, he seized her wrist and groaned when the warmth of her soft hand left his erection, but he knew if he hadn't stopped her he'd give in and missed that Goddamn flight.

"I'll make it up to you when I get back, baby. I promise," he said, watching her lie back down and cover her face with both hands.

"It's gonna be the longest two weeks of my life," she groaned.

He rubbed her knee, scooting back to the center of the bed and sat with his legs crossed. She propped herself up on her elbow, now lying on her side, looking at him. In this orange bedroom light, her skin looked so warm, and her eyes so dark. He reached out and touched her face, stroking her bottom lip with his thumb. She was hypnotizing him with those sweet doe eyes, her ultimate weapon that got her exactly what she wanted and how she wanted. He had never won a battle against them before.

"What are you—"

"Shh."

Getting on his knees, he lifted her thighs and spread her legs. She was bare under the oversized t-shirt, already glistening and ready for him. He pressed a delicate kiss to her inner thigh, so close to where she needed him the most as his eyes fixated on her, taking in the breathtaking sight of his love with her head tossed back, her eyes shut and mouth agape. If only his mind could take pictures of her looking like this and save them for when he was alone in a different city.

"Harry, please, make me come."

And he'd miss this too, the way she moaned his name and begged for his touch. Smirking, he took her hands which were gripping the pillow and guided them to his hair. "Show me how you want it," he ordered, his breath made her hips buck in his face and she tugged hard, just like he'd asked her to. Who was he to deny her then?

He began with a closed-mouth kiss, followed by a wet and messier one before his tongue stroked into her, lapping at her moisture. Her heat tightened when he pulled away, his mouth returned to her clit as he worked two fingers in and out of her. The slippery sounds were driving her insane. She was a delicious mess when he held her down and lapped his tongue skillfully, not letting her arousal go to waste. Y/N had never come this hard and fast, she thought she might've passed out for a second. Her fists were tight against his skull, but he loved it, he let her ride his face and fingers until she was too spent and delirious to even flinch.

"Oh, shit..."

Harry broke into laughter as he crawled up to attach their lips for a dirty kiss, letting her have a taste of herself before he pulled back to admire her face.

"Hi." He grinned, his dimples were more prominent in the hazy bedroom light. She loved his dimples. She loved his smile. She loved this face. She loved him. When he pulled away and helped her up, her stomach clenched in the most unpleasant way.

He carried her to the bathroom. She hated when he picked her up like a child, but she didn't have a choice as her knees were too weak for her to walk on her own. After getting her cleaned up, they returned to the bedroom and he began putting on his clothes. She sat on the edge of the bed in silence, watching the man she loved get dressed. He wore that black hoodie she'd got for him because she didn't want him to get cold on the plane. She knew he'd got plenty of hoodies that were more expensive and could keep him warm much better. She'd only wanted an excuse to buy him clothes. At least now he could carry her warmth with him to another country.

She walked him to the door. Her heart sank lower to his every step and when he turned back to kiss her goodbye. She held him tightly, arms locked around his neck, inhaling his scent for the last time before he went.

"I love when you're like this." He chuckled. "So clingy."

"Shut up," she rasped, but not letting go. "Call me when you get to the hotel?"

"I will. I love you so much."

"I love you more."

For every single 'I love you's they'd said to each other until now, they had always meant it. But this time, they meant it more than ever. Y/N supposed normal couples didn't say goodbye this way. Some didn't even bother to say goodbye at all when one of them went away for only two weeks. But normal couples didn't have to hide from the rest of the world nor face the never-ending fear of losing each other for the hundredth time. Maybe one day, they could be one of those normal couples. But right now, this was all they got.

After sending him out of the door, Y/N went back inside so she didn't have to watch him leave. It would break her heart and she'd burst into tears and made a fool out of herself.

Telling himself the same thing, Harry rushed down the stairs and didn't look back, not even once.

[pckarchives]

because going back and adding these to the previous q & a’s would be a pain ... beneath the cut , you’ll find all of brynn’s information !

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟎.     ›     brunnhilde brynn naoimh friar.

► species ➔ kelpie. ► biological age ➔ 1,803. ► weight ➔ 130 lbs. ► height ➔ 5′9″. ► build ➔ very thin with a bit of muscle! though, fun fact: if she is trying to lure in someone who prefers a bigger or smaller girl, that is what they will see! because kelpie aren’t actually human anyway, her human form only serves to draw others in, so they appear as the most appealing form, according to those around them. she looked a lot bigger when she lived in france and weight was in style, but she’s much thinner these days. she doesn’t understand humans, she doesn’t like this. ► disabilities ➔ none! ► weapon(s) of choice ➔ in an every day situation, her fists! she does not fight often (anymore), but she is very capable of solving those fights via human means. if a battle requires more than that, well... kelpies have no problem dragging someone down to the depths of the sea and eating them. ► skills ➔ see above. in addendum to the dragging someone to the depths of the sea thing, she can trap someone in her arms so they can’t escape her. works best when she’s in water, but she could make it work on land. also, she has a weather-sense! usually only matters when storms are coming, because she can feel when the waters get restless. she can summon a storm herself, but dear gods, the amount of effort that takes. she’s done it once in her near two thousand years of existence and has elected to never do it again. finally, she can actually turn into the horse spirit when she’s underwater. it looks... a little more mermaid-ish than one would think, but it’s a horse, okay. in her horse form, she’s ten times faster and stronger than a normal horse and... y’know, she can drag someone to the bottom of the sea and eat them. notably, if she is shifted on land, she appears like a regular black horse! maybe a little bigger than normal, slightly monstrous snout, but you’d have to look really closely to notice that. ► weaknesses ➔ her bridle. anyone gets their hands on it, they have control over her, which... is extremely terrifying, considering what she can do. so she keeps that thing hidden where no one has a chance of finding it or taking it from her. ► worst habits ➔ unfortunately, she falls in love very easily. after all of this time, she’s still a wide-eyed romantic. she also trusts entirely too easily. you would think she would know better, but? no? ► nervous tics ➔ she plays with seashells! talking to the sea is very much a mermaid thing, yes, but mermaids and kelpies are close relatives, and they all need a bit of water comfort. so when brynn’s feeling a little nervy, she’ll toy with a seashell or pearl, maybe have a quiet and awkward conversation with the nearest sea. ► sexuality ➔ what a silly concept. ► are they single? ➔ at the moment, yes. ► are they happy? ➔ literally always. ► are they angry? ➔ sometimes. really depends on the situation. ► are their parents still married? ➔ she doesn’t have parents! kelpies are independent spirits and they aren’t exactly born the way humans and other beings are. she simply came into existence, exactly the way she is. she’s been “adopted” many times, taken in by loving couples who hated to see such a young thing on her own in the world. but as far as biology goes, she has no parents to speak of. ► happiest memory? ➔ meeting iliana khepri! and, in addition, meeting her sons when they were turned! brynn doesn’t have many friends who’ve lasted throughout the years, as most people eventually die of old age, if nothing else. but having such beautifully-spirited friends who are as eternal as she is is a gift that she can never overlook. ► worst memory? ➔ the moment she, rohan and iliana found elliot the night of his wedding. certainly, there are worse things that she has lived through, long before this child was born, married and broken. but this horror is the freshest and it hurts the most. he had been so excited to tell them of his wedding and he simply wasn’t the same after it all. elliot may be nearly two hundred years old, but he’s still a baby, as far as she’s concerned? and he’s already been hurt in a way that even she’s managed to avoid so far. being there to witness it and being unable to stop it... yeah. she should have eaten that man. ► biggest regret? ➔ trusting a djinn with her bridle. she’d been friends with the woman and had been so certain that it would be the right move. wrong! anyway, brynn ate her. ► best thing they’ve ever done? ➔ saved quite a few travelers and tourists from storms and people with ill-intentions. ate a few dictators. ► worst thing they’ve ever done? ➔ in her “youth,” she ate people indiscriminately. she didn’t quite learn to control herself until she met iliana and had a reason to be kind. so she’s eaten quite a few children, her fair share of families, etc... she’s not proud of it. ► worst thing that’s ever been done to them? ➔ remember that djinn from earlier? yeah, she accused brynn of being a witch... during the witch trials. and given that brynn didn’t have her own bridle, she couldn’t even save herself. and she wasn’t one of the ones who had to drown to prove her innocence; no, that would have bene a mercy. she was burned. do you know what happens when you put a water spirit in flames? ► what scares them the most? ➔ the thought of someone getting their hands on her bridle again. she’s a full romantic, loves and trusts wholeheartedly, but she’s not sure she’ll ever trust that much ever again. ► who have they left behind? ➔ honestly, no one! though she’s been to many places and has met many people, she has rarely gotten attached to people, only to leave them behind. you could say she left iliana, rohan and elliot behind, but even then... not really? she’s kept in contact with them over the years, calling them ever so often to make sure they are doing well. elliot has recently taught her about facetime! ...she does not understand it. ► who would they kill for? ➔ anyone who needs it. this comes with the understanding that not every situation calls for death. some people just need a good curb-stomp and the problem is solved. but if someone truly needed her to kill, then she will do so. ► who has hurt them the most? ➔ the aforementioned djinn. that was a few hundred years ago, so you would think she would be over it? but no! absolutely the worst thing she’s ever experienced! ► who have they hurt the most? ➔ she would be hard pressed to say. she hasn’t hurt anyone she’s cared about. and when considering those that she’s eaten, no one person matters more than the others. ► who scares them the most? ➔ no one. ► if they could say one thing to their family right now, what would it be? ➔ “i have an ipad! ...what do i do with it?” SEVEN FACTS ► ‘birth’ place ➔ the north sea. ► hair color ➔ currently, blonde. it has been a number of colors over the years, due to beauty trends and hair dye. she was born with brown hair, a little lighter than her horse mane, but prefers the blonde. ► eye color ➔ blue. ► birthday ➔ september 30, 216. ► gender ➔ all kelpies are female. ► summer or winter ➔ summer. ► morning or afternoon ➔ morning. EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE ► are they in love? ➔ no. ► do they believe in love at first sight? ➔ absolutely! ► who ended their last relationship? ➔ she did. ► have they ever broken someone’s heart? ➔ yep. ► are they afraid of commitments? ➔ not at all! ► have they hugged someone within the last week? ➔ no, which is a shame. ► have they ever had a secret admirer? ➔ probably? ► have they ever broken their own heart? ➔ yes. SIX CHOICES ► love or lust ➔ love. ► lemonade or iced tea ➔ lemonade. ► cats or dogs ➔ dogs! ► a few best friends or many regular friends ➔ depends? with a life like hers, she needs both. ► wild night out or romantic night in ➔ romantic night in. ► day or night ➔ day. FOUR HAVE YOU EVERS ► been caught sneaking out? ➔ no. ► fallen down/up the stairs ➔ yes. ► wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ yes. ► wanted to disappear? ➔ no. FAMILY ► do they and their family get along?  �� she doesn’t have a family! ► would they say they have a “messed up life”? ➔ no. ► have they ever ran away from home? ➔ yes. ► have they ever gotten kicked out? ➔ no. FRIENDS ► do they secretly hate one of their friends? ➔ no! ► do they consider all of their friends good friends? ➔ yes! ► who is their best friend? ➔ iliana khepri. ► who knows everything about them? ➔ see above, plus rohan laghari and elliot aldridge. ► pack mate they’re closest to? ➔ prediction-wise, she’ll get close to theo, megan, alicia and nico, so as to help them not eat people, but especially theo and megan. (brynn shows up and adopts two cannibal kids on sight... as she should!) also kali, on account of her living with the vampires and being rohan’s baby sister. but of course, she will always be closest to iliana and her boys. ► pack mate they’ve fought the most? ➔ she is not a fighter! ► if forced to choose between their life and that of their closest pack mate, who would they save? ➔ martyrdom leaves no winners. she and iliana have always saved themselves and she doesn’t see why that would change.

► hobbies ➔ professionally, she’s a marine archeologist, but that started out as a hobby, as well! other than that, she likes taking dives and swimming with dolphins, whales and sharks. make no mistake, she is not the apex predator in that situation. but kelpies are repulsive to sea creatures, so as to prevent them from being eaten. so swimming with them is always safe, thankfully. and though she will not admit it under extreme torture, she does like roaming around in her horse form. she’s given quite a few horseback rides to children, because their happiness is all she could ever ask for. ► social media handles ➔ social what now? ► conventional or creative contact ids ➔ conventional. it’s a good day if she can figure out how to put a number in her contacts as it is, no need to get creative. ► favorite color ➔ sea blue. ► favorite video game ➔ she has tried video games before and just cannot understand them. every time someone mentions a new one, it’s a different console? the controller has a new design? how does anyone keep up? ► favorite song ➔ modern love by david bowie. ► favorite scent ➔ incense! ► favorite band/artist ➔ julie d'aubigny was one of a kind. ► favorite place to be ➔ not to be cliché, but... the beach. the sand, the ocean, the rocks... she lives for that kinda vibe. ► favorite season ➔ summer! she can get into the water as much as she wants without people looking at her strange. ► favorite word ➔ alacrity. ► favorite meme ➔ i pretend i do not see it. (elliot taught her this one and he’s very proud of her for remembering it.) ► if they were an animal ➔ i... horse. ► if they were a color ➔ blue, in all of its forms. ► if they were a vine/tiktok ➔ literally any of those tiktoks with the audio that goes: fuck, i.. i... i love you ! no, that’s too soon, you met this girl this afternoon ! okay, FUCK. she’s looking scared, maybe, like, should’ve came prepared with a poem, a haiku, maybe a hug, y’know ––– i could’ve killed you & hidden you with a rug, WHAT THE FUCK ? did you just say that, you fucking psychotic maniac –––– ?! ► if they were a taylor swift song ➔ blank space. ► aesthetic ➔ blood-stained seashells, clam shells pried open with shaking hands, blonde hair tied back into a peppy ponytail, blonde then red then pink then ombre but never brown never again, the ocean lapping at pale feet, calling the lost souls back home. ► motto ➔ “this isn’t the first ending i’ve survived and it won’t be the last.” ► theme song ➔ in for the kill by la roux.

► medical issues ➔ none. ► knows far too much about ➔ worldwide theologies. she doesn’t subscribe to any particular religion herself, but she has always been fascinated by the existence of higher beings, so she chooses to believe in all of them! ► fears death via ➔ fire. ► chances of being “evil” ➔ eh, pretty slim. she’s malevolent by nature, but has no interest in going all dark side again. she’s been there and she’s not impressed!

[wonderingarmy]

Prince Jeon Jungkook Part 3

Links - Part 1   Part 2

It’s been a couple months since Jungkook last talk to you. The other members’ relationship with their other halves seems to be getting better except for him. He knows he f*cked up so much that he doesn’t even know how to apologize or if you’ll even forgive him. The day after the confrontation, you submitted your two weeks notice. You tried to finish editing all of the BTS’ RUN episodes that’s under your direction and a music video. Jungkook tried to reach you, but you begged Bang PD to have him stay away from you, which he understood. He tried to call you many times, but you blocked him. He also tried to go to your place, but you don’t live there anymore.

“You should try to focus more on the tour Jungkook-ah”, RM told Jungkook after noticing that he’s giving himself a hard time. Working out extra, tiring himself out and barely eating.

“I’ll be okay Namjoon-hyung.”, he replied. “I am just really trying hard to get her off of my mind. And it’s really hard. I know I messed up so much. I am just really disappointed of myself. I can’t believe I did that to her. I wasn’t thinking hyung. I should’ve listened to Jimin-hyung. To everyone.”

“We all make mistakes, stupid mistakes. I mean, yours was really really, way stupid. But, you know what? At least you admit to it. And you stopped talking to Kumi.”

“I feel bad for Kumi too. What the hell is wrong with me?”

“I don’t know man. But, I hope you learned from your mistakes. I hope you get a chance to talk to Y/N again and I hope she forgives you.” Namjoon said, tapping Jungkook's shoulder.

Jungkook always talks about how he messed up so bad with you during his live broadcasts. A lot of fans asked him about you every time he goes live. How they don’t see him with you anymore and some people stopped being a fan of him. But, most fans, who’s been there since BTS debut have comforted him and told him that everyone makes mistakes and that they wish for you and Jungkook to be in good terms again. A lot of fans like you for Jungkook because they know how much you make him happy. And though, they didn’t like what Jungkook did to you, they still support him and the members.

As time passes by, Jungkook got tired of always being asked about you, especially during live interviews. Everyone already knows that he messed up, that he is childish, and that he doesn’t know what he wants in life.

“Uhhmn, I am sorry to interrupt”, Yoongi replied to one of the host of one of the famous show in the US, when they were asked about their relationship status. “How about we talk about our music and not about our personal lives.” he continued tapping Jungkook’s, who is sitting beside him, lap and smiling,  assuring him that he got him.

The interviewer apologized and tried to change the topic. The members, although happy with their own love lives, doesn’t really want to talk about their relationship with their other halves, especially when they know what Jungkook’s situation is in and how he feels left out when they talk about how they’re happy with their girlfriends.

Jungkook went on hiatus for a long time. He stopped posting a selca and stopped going on live broadcasts, even just to bother Jin and Jimin during Eat Jin. The fans noticed how he stopped being the playful Jungkook that he is during his stage performances. He started to look like he wasn’t interested in what he is doing and just not the same as before. Fans noticed that he’s been getting sick a lot lately too, and getting injured frequently.

“JK, I know you’re going through a lot of things right now, but please start taking care of yourself. You don’t want the fans to be worried about you.” Taehyung tol Jungkook one time during rehearsals and JK hurt his wrist.

“I just don't know what to do anymore, hyung”, he replied.

“You have to move on Jungkook-ah.” Hoseok said.

“Yeah, nobody heard from her and who knows where she’s at right now.” Jimin added.

“How about let's get some jajangmyeon and I’ll pay with my card? At least food doesn’t hurt us. Unless Namjoon cooks it, then ah, that’s heartbreaking even just thinking about it.”

Everyone laughed, except for Jungkook who just managed to smile a little.

After the last concert of their World Tour, before doing his speech, Jungkook started crying. The fans started cheering for him.

“Ah guys, I don’t really know where to start. First of all, I want to say sorry for not giving you the performance that you deserve.” Jungkook explained in between sobs. “As most of you all know, I am going through tough times. I have messed up five months ago. I did something terrible to the person that I really love. It’s hard to find a reason why I did it, which makes me feel like I am a really bad person.”

The members started to tap his back and letting him know that he is doing great and that they’re behind him no matter what happens.

“If only I had the power to turn back time and make everything okay again, I would. But, I am just Jungkook and I just messed things up, like how I keep on messing up this concert for my members and for all of you who put so much effort into coming here to watch us perform live. I am sorry to all of you guys. I hope you guys understand me and I hope to be better soon.” He broke down crying and the members started coming towards him and trying to comfort him.

“Ah, to that person that got heartbroken because of JK, please forgive him.” Hoseok said

“Yes please. He’s learned his lesson. Just give him a chance to make everything right.” Jin followed.

After the concert, a video of Jungkook crying has started to trend on social media along with a hashtags, #Y/NPleaseGiveJKaChance, #JKsaysSorry, and #YNJKSaysSorry.

***

You didn't feel like going out to get a pack of eggs at the grocery store at 9 in the morning but you really need it in order to achieve your first baking lesson on your own.

"I can't believe I forgot to get eggs! One of the main ingredients in baking." you muttered to yourself as you grabbed your coat and head out to your apartment.

After quitting Bighit, you applied at a local studio, where they do photoshoots and films for weddings, birthdays, anniversaries, etc. It's not much pay, but you still save up some money. It's 45 minute train ride away far from where you used to live.

When you got to the grocery store, you noticed a familiar face. Kumi. You were about to walk out when he ran after you.

"Y/N, wait!" she said so loud some of the customers was startled.

You stopped and not really knowing what to say.

"Hey Y/N, I know I did something really bad to you but is it possible for us to you know, talk somewhere?" she asked her, holding her hands together.

"Kumi, I am really----"

"Y/N, that excuse is overused now. I just really need to talk to you. I mean, just please hear a sister out?"

"A sister?" you scoffed.

"Okay, okay. I did you wrong. And I don't have the right to talk to you whatsoever but, can we please just talk?" she asked again

"Fine. But, make it quick." you replied after hearing the sincerity in her voice.

You walked out of the grocery store and went to a nearby coffee shop. As soon as you both find a good spot to sit down, she started explaining herself.

"Y/N, I know what I did was wrong. I know that you and Jungkook have something. And I want to let you know that it's all my fault." she began. "I am a big fan of Jungkook that's why I applied at Bighit, and luckily I got the job. I knew that he liked you and that he is courting you, but me being selfish didn't stopped me from doing what I wasn't supposed to do. I flirted with him and did it when you are around to make you jealous, so that you'll get fed up with it. Everything I did went over my head and I didn't care about your feelings. I brainwashed him, telling him that he doesn't have any chance with. Because well, you are older than him and that you like more mature guys. And he fell for it. Y/N, Jungkook is still young and vulnerable. But he loves you." she stopped looking at you.

"Why are you telling me all of these?" You asked "Whatever is between me and Jungkook is far long gone. It's over and I prolly won't see him ever again."

"I am telling you because after you left him in that parking lot, I saw how devastated he is. I tried to comfort him for days and weeks and he is just not getting back to his old self. And I realized that everything was my fault. That he loves and cares for you and if it wasn't for me, he wouldn't have been like that. I liked Jungkook, but I don't want to be with someone who doesn't like me." she said, tears starting to fall down her cheeks. "I fucked up Y/N. I fucked up so bad, I left Bighit too. I got so obsessed with Jungkook I became a saesang. I am so disgusted with myself. You didn't even do anything to me. But I hurt you, and I hurt Jungkook too." Now she is full on crying that some customers looked your way with worried face.

You handed her a napkin and said, "How can you say that Jungkook doesn't like you? I saw the way you kissed each other"

"But he doesn't look at me the way he looks at you Y/N" she said wiping her tears with the napkin that you gave her. "When he looks at you, it's like you're his galaxy, like you're the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Like his happiness lays in your eyes. He loves you Y/N. He made a mistake and it's my fault. He's a man, and he is vulnerable. It's easy for him to make that mistake."

"Being a man doesn't give him the right to hurt anybody's feelings just because of his needs." you said.

"Y/N, you're not even his girlfriend yet!"

"Exactly Kumi! I am not his girlfriend yet, and look what he did?"

"For fuck's sake Y/N! just forgive him. Have you seen him lately? He is at his worst and he regrets everything that he's done you. He hasn't been doing great and the members and fans are worried about him. It's been months Y/N! Months that he's like that! it's not healthy anymore. You need to talk to him or I am dragging your ass to their dorm right at this moment!" she said, she talked so fast that she had to catch her breath.

"Why? Why are you doing this?" you asked again, not really knowing what to say anymore.

"Because I know you still love him and that you still care about him. Because he loves you and I want to make up from my mistakes and I want you guys to end up together. You love him Y/N. You just don't want to admit it".

You started crying and you told her that you still do love him and that you hate herfor doing what she had done and that you were so jealous you wanted to punch her in the face.

She smiled and said, "I am really sorry Y/N. And I mean it. Maybe I have to be in the picture for you to realize that you need to give him a chance and for you to realize that you love him."

You looked at him and started thinking that maybe she is right. You didn't really realize how much you love Jungkook until Kumi happened.

For the next couple of weeks you thought about everything that Kumi told you. You watched the videos of Jungkook crying in concerts and saying how he messed up. You feel bad and then you don't and you just lay in bed just feeling sorry for yourself and for Jungkook.

You woke up one day with a knock on your door. You grabbed your robe and with a messy hair opened the door but shut it back when you found out who it was.

"Y/N, let's talk please?" it was Jungkook. "I am not leaving until you talk to me"

"How did you--" you yelled, but realized the answer to your question. "Go away Jungkook!"

"I am not leaving Y/N. If I leave, it will be the last time."

"Fuck!" you said to yourself. "How am I going to work now?"

After 3 hours, Jungkook is still outside your apartment. You called your work and asked to be excused for the day as something came up.

You kept on peeking outside your window and you can see him just sitting on the ground looking so cold with just his hoodie on.

"Shit! Today's forecast is wind and snow!" you said again to yourself. "Oh well, he'll leave when he gets too cold."

Snow came and heavy winds around 5pm and Jungkook stayed outside. He was trying to warm his hands with his breath, but you know it's not going to help. After almost an hour, he still outside, shaking and looking like he's about to pass out.

Before you know it, you were outside with a big coat you hope fits him.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" you asked angrily

He looked up, smiled and said your name. He tried to get up but he fell instead. You struggled to get him inside your apartment, but you noticed that he's lost weight. When you finally got him inside, with a little bit of his help and he fell on the couch. You grabbed some thick blankets, your portable heater and you checked his temperature as he is burning hot. He is shaking so bad that you couldn't understand what he's trying to say. You grabbed some medicines from your cabinet and helped him drink it. After half an hour, he fell asleep. You made some soup and watched him close at the same time, scared that he might stopped breathing. After a couple of hours, his fever went down. You fell asleep watching him, you head laying on the couch where he is sleeping.

When you woke up, Jungkook was staring at you.

"Good morning." he said, smiling

You stood up suddenly and wipe whatever disgusting thing is on your face.

"Thank you for letting me in and for taking care of me Y/N", he said

"Yep.", is your only reply.

Jungkook got up on the couch, struggling from all the blankets that you gave him, and moved closer to you. You froze when he held your hand.

"I am sorry Y/N. For all the bad things I did to you. For hurting you. I was childish, I wasn't thinking. I was selfish. And I have learned my lesson. I promise to be a better person." he said, his voice still weak

"Jungkook, I--"

"I am not expecting you to forgive me Y/N. I just really want you to know how sorry I am."

"Jungkook, you hurt me so much that I thought something is wrong with me. I don't know if I will ever forgive you for doing what you had done to me."

"I am sorry Y/N. I wish I could turn back time and I promise to make everything right. I love you Y/N. I love you and I was so stupid to hurt you."

When you didn't say anything, Jungkook said, "Thank you for letting me inside again and for taking care of me. I owe you a lot. I came here to say sorry and like I said I don't expect you to forgive me. I won't forgive myself too if I were you. So, I am leaving now. And I am really sorry Y/N. But, I hope in time, I hope you will try to forgive me." he said. He opened the door and left.

You sat on the couch and stayed there for a good 5 minutes, thinking the would've beens if you forgive him. After arguing with yourself, you opened your door and ran after him. When you finally saw him, you yelled his name and he stopped and looked at you.

When you reached him, "Y/N." he said.

"If you fucked this up again Jungkook, I swear to God, i am going to burn you alive", you said trying to catch your breath

He hugged you and said, " I won't Y/N. I won't hurt you again. I am so sorry." He cupped your head with his both hands and said, "Hurting you is like suicide. I won't fuck this up again Y/N. I promise!" he kissed you and before you know it, you were kissing him back, tears falling down both your cheeks.

[theherondaels]

Oh No (A Soy Luna Next Gen Fanfic)

This is the long deserved update! And not just any, nope, let's hear Andrés POV.

Also today is Stella's bday (well, in 7 years, imao) so yay!

Have fun reading!!!

10. Bodyguard

Stella hadn’t been the only one who had gotten up earlier. In another part of the city, Andrés slowly opened the door of his room, careful to not make sudden movements. He had already made it halfway down the stairs when he noticed that the light was switched on in the living room, illuminating the lower half of the staircase.

Andrés stopped dead in his tracks. His mother and sister shouldn’t be up for another hour, so it could only be his father that was awake. Andrés’ lips pressed into a hard line. Management, or the devil, as the teenage boy liked to call it, had probably already demanded damage control.

He didn’t bother to be quiet anymore, soon standing in the living room. At first his father said nothing, too preoccupied with drinking his coffee. “Good morning,” Pedro then said with a smile, putting down the blue mug. Andrés’ brow ceased. “Morning,” he replied way less enthusiastically. He just stood there, waiting for his father to address what happened with Stella yesterday, but he didn’t.

Pedro’s eyes wandered from his already school dressed son to the clock. “Why are you up so early?” Trying to avoid WWIII.

Andrés could ask him the same question, but he didn’t, as the reason didn’t really interest him. “I’ll have to meet up with a few classmates for a project. They don’t want to stay after school, so we have to discuss it before classes begin,” he lied swiftly, having constructed his words last night. His father nodded, totally believing the lie, gaze on the clock again.

“But you still have time for breakfast, right?” His look was a tad too concerned.

“Not really,” Andrés was already slinging his black backpack over his left shoulder. “I have to take two buses earlier if I want to be there on time,” he continued.

“But I prepared a little breakfast that’s right in here.” He turned a bit to the left so his father could see the backpack. “So, no need to worry, Mom,” Andrés teased with a small grin.

“Be glad I’m sitting here and not your mother.” His father had a point there. Mom was definitely not as easy to lie to and she would have forced him to have breakfast, no ifs or buts would have been accepted. How reassuring, indeed.

“On another day I would have offered to you to drive you there, but management called. They’ve booked us more hours in the studio, they want the new album to be finished by May,” Pedro explained why he was already sipping his second coffee.

Andrés rolled his eyes at that. Rollerband’s management really had surreal deadlines sometimes. “Splendid,” was his comment.

“So, what’s this project about?” Pedro asked, while pouring more milk into his coffee. “It’s for history,” Andrés answered, as his first two lessons really were history today, but he more tense now. He didn’t like this where this conversation was going. At all.

“History, huh?” his father questioned rather amused. “Is the topic Ancient Rome?”

The tone Pedro had used let the alarm bells in Andrés’ head ring. That had been clearly too amused, too knowing.

“And are you sure the class is not chemistry?” Pedro added mercilessly. It was in this moment that Andrés realized that his father knew exactly what had happened yesterday.

He sighed out of annoyance. This was just unnecessary. “So, you know,” the teenager stated plainly. "Well, yes," Pedro laughed, "it's hard not to. Your behaviour was too strange last night and Gastón bombarded the group chat soon after. Besides, you seemed happier the last few weeks, figured it had to do with your new skating partner. Seems like was right."

The grin Andrés received was unnerving.

He crossed his arms. “And what does the devil want?” That call surely hadn’t been just about more studio hours. “Don’t use that name for them. They’re the reason you’re living in this house,” Pedro chided.

“It’s because you and your bandmates can sing,” Andrés pointed out the obvious. Pedro ignored his son’s sarcastic words.

"And they might thank you, actually," the drummer added. “Why would they do that?" Andrés asked, voice full of suspicion. "Turns out Rollerband is trending everywhere - along with that ship name of yours.”

“Stella and I got chased through half Buenos Aires and all they care about is popularity?” Andrés asked, the anger he felt echoing in his words.

“I’m not saying what the paparazzi did was okay, but publicity like this is still good publicity. And don’t you think good news from you will make them more amicable towards you?” Pedro had chosen his words carefully, but to no avail.

Andrés now wished his mom was already up, while it sometimes could be a little embarrassing how protective she was of him and Marina, he knew she would always be on his side, no matter what. His dad was too much of a people pleaser to truly pick one side, which for Andrés felt like as if he wasn’t on his side at all. And that hurt. A lot.

“Glad I could help," Andrés' tone reeked of sarcasm, disliking that his personal life was benefitting his father’s band in any way. He was sure the devil was ecstatic, finally some good news from him. The teenager sometimes felt as if they disapproved of everything he did just on principle. It was almost like they needed to have a black sheep among the Rollerband kids. Andrés had no problem being the scapegoat, he didn’t care what everyone, and especially them, thought about him.

A bitter taste started to spread in his mouth. He wished it was from his own coffee.

“If they even try to suggest anything regarding seeing Stella I will stand in their office before they can even end the call.” Andrés warned, meaning every word of it.

A knowing grin hushed over Pedro’s features. “You really must like her.”

Like? Andrés almost scoffed. He had always thought Stella was pretty, his confusing feelings towards her only getting stronger over the years, so he had started to skip the birthday celebrations both attended by their families, no excuse too outlandish for him.

Still, he had been absolutely thrilled when Tamara had told him his skating partner was going to be Stella. His best friend Fabián had asked him if he could drop that smiley face the next day during school, saying it was honestly a bit creepy.

Andrés hadn’t been bothered, to engulfed with the idea that the universe was giving him more or less a second chance with Stella. He had to make up for the lost time and talk to her. And talk to her Andrés did. He was like the moth drawn to her fire. He couldn't really explain it - nor did he want to, he hated it when people knew too much about him.

The silence of his son only let the grin on Pedro’s face only grow bigger.

“I really should get going now.”

“One more thing,” added Pedro hastily. Andrés stopped walking and leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms, expecting the worst. If this was his father’s attempt to give him the talk, he was already failing miserably.

"Will you attend Stella’s quinceañera? Because, well, your mother and I expected you to be busy that day," he explained, a shark-like grin making its way to his face, "But in turn of recent events..."

“I don’t think her dad would like that,” Andrés dodged the question. Unless he was absolutely sure what he and Stella were exactly he would refrain from making such statements.

"Speaking of Matteo…” His father bursted into laughter, “do you want a bodyguard?"

Instead of an answer Pedro got an annoyed sigh. “Bye, Dad!” Andrés began walking down the stairs. "You can bring her over for dinner anytime," his father yelled after him. And while Andrés had rolled his eyes at the statement, he was secretly glad that he had his father’s approval.

It didn’t take him long to reach the bus station. When the bus arrived, he managed to get a seat in the back. This bus was less full than the one he normally took, still could feel the stares on him.

With his phone already in hand, Andrés went on twitter, trying to distract himself.

At first there only pictures and various “Oh my god, I knew it!” reactions. Andrés couldn’t help but grin at the photos. Though, he was almost a bit disappointed that the hickey was covered by Stella’s hair.

While he told himself that the hickey had been a pure product of heat of the moment, he knew deep down that the unbelievable audacity of Lola bringing up Stella’s childhood crush on Luis had contributed as well.

Andrés scrolled further down, seeing a tweet he wished he could bleach from his brain.  

I bet it’s a stunt. Their fathers are probably working on a song right now.

He exited the app immediately after. The teenager suddenly had the strong urge to text his father, asking if such a project was on the horizon. With Rollerband’s management it even could be planned at this very moment.

"I hate this band," he muttered lowly, no trace of sarcasm in his voice.

Andrés had always despised it that his private life was so out in the open, but now he had to read someone invalidating his feelings, saying it was only for publicity, and that was way worse. Andrés blocked the account, not caring if management would throw a fit later.

He focused on the pictures again, the uneasy feeling soon gone.

The teenager almost missed his stop, too busy writing Stella a text. He walked towards the school and stopped near the entrance, checking for a reply from Stella.

Soon he was joined by other pupils, the stares resurfacing. Thankfully, the bus containing his friends, well, he would only consider Fabián a friend, the rest were better descried as acquaintances, arrived.

The group of 4 people made its way towards him. “So, what happened with Stella?” Alicia was the first to speak. “Not even a hello?” Andrés started, “also, what makes you think I’ll tell you anything?”

“See? I told you!” Fabián grinned. In fact, he hadn’t told them much. Alicia had already questioned him on their ride to school, but Navarro had remained silent.  The blonde waved him off with her hand. “Whatever. Twitter basically exploded. I want details.”

Andrés suppressed a groan. He had escaped his sister for this?

“God, you sound like my mom,” Eloísa complained. “She’s in gossip mode,” Rafael explained his sister’s behaviour. “As much as I hate to disappoint, you won’t get any details.” Andrés ruined Alicia’s hopes of getting insider information.

"I mean, I don't even want to know.” Rafael scrunched his nose up. Eloísa held her hand up. "Same," the redhead agreed. Both were now receiving a glare from Alicia.

"But is it true that the paparazzi chased you two?" Alicia still asked. “They did and let's just say that they didn't catch everything," was all Andrés said, a slight grin appearing on lips.

"No wonder you're so pleased," Fabián realized, knowing how much joy it brought his friend to mess with the paparazzi.

“Wait, what did they-“ Andrés ignored the rest of Alicia’s sentence, his phone vibrating in his left pocket. He fished it out, seeing Stella's reply. "Oh my god, someone take a photo. You can see the dimples," Rafael exclaimed rather loudly, earning a pointed look from the black-haired boy. "I'm sorry, Andrés, but you're so gone," Alicia laughed.

“You'd make a great couple, though," Rafael then chuckled. Andrés sighed annoyed. Álvarez really had no tact whatsoever. Of course, once he had finally truly forgotten about it, Rafael had to bring it up again.

He had lost more sleep over this than he'd like to admit. However, he was relieved that the younger boy thought that. Less competition.

"If I'm still alive after today," Andrés commented, thinking of his father’s words.  "Hey, if I survived Eloísa's dad, you can do this," Fabián tried to encourage his friend, but quickly looked over to his girlfriend, "no offence." Eloísa just shrugged, lips twitching into something that could be considered a smirk, "It's fine. He said he did go easy on you, though." All colour drained from Fabián's face, "Easy? I wanted to die the entire time!" he exclaimed truthfully.

"But unlike me, Andrés can throw some witty comebacks," Fabián then said, trying to encourage Andrés. "Honestly, I think that would only speed up the process," Alicia mused.

"I'm still here, you know," Andrés stated annoyed. “Actually, nevermind, class starts soon. See you all later.” Various goodbyes were said in his direction, Andrés disappearing in in the school building.

[nikki-reuclife]

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[idontevenwannaknow]

sport necklaces

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Or is the deck stacked against her and she'll lose a lot of money? It's obvious that less cash is required for a flea market than for a retail retailer, but what's not so apparent? In other phrases, focus on how much cash you have got already made on that order that got here in, fairly than focusing on the objects which might be left over and haven't bought. Moreover giving the video games their structure, guidelines are meant to provide all members a (supposedly) even playing field. These seats embrace a button that enables the seated individual to get up with ease, every time they are prepared. Can you simply get to a lot of spots to buy? Get a second opinion. Men also hit a house run with the lady of their lives by marking a big (or not so vital) anniversary with the diamond anniversary ring. I think this could possibly be an ideal present for a particular occasion equivalent to graduation or wedding or an anniversary.

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When i lived at home, I always tried to help make adjustments for the higher, slightly than simply letting dangerous politics determine for me. These really exhibit the interests of any sharp dressed man all while catering to his internal sports activities lover. For those who ask a man what he actually needs, he's likely to say a brand new automotive, some sports gear or model new instruments. Missing baseball jewelry, which usually shelving up wards repeated flyer a long way in arms and, joints, fingers, legs and, as well as earlobes. Many rabid baseball fans put on extra the standard investing credit score charge enjoying greeting handmade homemade business notes, signed gadgets, banners and ads, paint footplate, as well as bubblehead dolls. The first Pizza Hut opened in 1958, which is about 500 years closer. It all the time has a recent just cleaned regarded that appears to fade quickly with yellow gold. Judy is considering selling earrings on the local swapmeet with baseball jewelry.

[fictionalarsonist]

inconspicuous bad apples - ch.02 (revamped)

pairing ›_taekwoon ⨯ reader ⨯ hakyeon feat. ›_ vixx wonshik ; got7 jinyoung ; cha minjoo (child oc) content ›_angst ; murder ; police au ; serial killer au ; mature language ; smoking ; drinking ; violence ; blood ; age gap relationship ; divorce rating ›_pg-13 word count ›_ 3k  

a/n  ›_ i decided to review this. is not quite all different, but i took off some unnecessary things from it.

「 ao3 | mobile m.list | inconspicuous bad apples m.list」

[ ch.01 | ch.02 | ch.03 | ch.04 | work in progress ]

“Okay, Lieutenant. We got it.”,Jinyoung approaches you as you stand beside the autopsy table, you take a folder from his hand and he stops next to you, “Not to rain on your parade, but the girl is… I mean was– the daughter of Daeun Trading Corporation’s CEO”, Jinyoung sounds amused and you sigh, looking up at him disappointed, “Her name is Kim Da Eun”

“Of course she was”, you droned, earning a chuckle from Jinyoung.

You take a quick look at the files inside before looking at the girl again, squinting your eyes just the slightest to concentrate at the sight before you. Jinyoung’s focuses on his notes for a moment, oblivious to your antics.

“Something wrong”, you speculate, loud enough to get Jinyoung looking up at you with one raise eyebrow.

“Wh-What? Lieutenant–”, he faltered, letting his hands fall beside his body.

“Just a feeling. An instinct–”, you mutter vaguely, offering him a shrug.

Jinyoung breathes out tiredly.

“Lieutenant…”, he starts, “I used to think only I hated when you said things like this, but I’ve noticed it’s a unanimous feeling. People hate when you say something about this instinct of yours, it’s scary!”

“Me included”, you reply vaguely, adding a strangled sigh as you try to put the pieces together, making sure you’re not missing anything, “What do we have so far?”

Jinyoung dutifully walks you through the information gathered, the doctor adds more facts.. It feels like a promising day, alright.

⁎ ⁎ ⁎

You look up when someone knocks on your table.

“We’re going out for lunch”, your Captain announces, walking around your table to take a better look at the files you have scattered before you, “Obsessive as always”

Although his words are a reprimand you can hear the compliment undertone he applies to them. He shifted his weight on his feet, taking a closer look at the files you have on your table.

“What are those?”

You slide one of the file to him and leans back on your seat, massaging your closed eyelids.

“Someone I know owned me a favor”, you confess while opening your eyes.

You see him flipping the file to look at the department’s name, not minding his troubled and rather upset expression, you show him the photos and your Captain snaps his eyes to look at you, inspecualting.

“This case belongs to narcotics, what are you up to?”

“Daeun’s case.” You starts, “Something seems off.”

“Y/n, you can’t compare the daughter of CEO Kim Shin Il with those druggies!”

“Captain–”, you insist, pulling the files for comparison, “Most injuries match and the disposal location as well and the prostitutes aren’t the only ones–”, he interrupts you in a hurry

“Forget this”, he snaps and starts closing the files, putting them in a pile, “I’m retiring, and you will be promoted soon, we don’t need to stir shit up, Y/n”, he leaves only the CEO’s daughter file open on top of the others and taps the photo of the girl’s ID attached to he files, “After lunch we’ll have the warrant for her boyfriend’s house. It’ll be over before you know it”

“But, Captain! Something is definitely wrong here”, you try dissuading him and pulls out Kim Da Eun’s boyfriend mugshot, “I doesn’t make sense!” You hand him the paper, tapping it energetically as you speak on, “How can a narcissistic girl like Da Eun date a penniless man who walks around like a homeless–”, he interrupts you

“How would I know? It could be another trend, who knows?”

“Captain, do you really believe that?” You defy him, staring into his eyes with your hands on your waist and the two of you simply stare at each other for a moment, “Captain–”, you try again once both of you calm down, “I know something’s off about this.”

“Y/n-ah~”, he calls your attention in a rather affectionate way that comes out as bothersome, “I told you before. You can’t solve every case trusting your guts”, he insists, “Sometimes it doesn’t work and when that happens–”, he sighs

He steps closer, placing his hands on your shoulders, shaking you a little, but still looking in your eyes.

“Y/n! Don’t do this”, he warns you, “Think about Minjoo~, huh?” He tries in a dissuading tone and pats your shoulders before letting go of you, “Let’s go eat something, it’s my treat”

It’s not that you don’t understand his mindset. You want this to be that simple, you want it to be just a simple case of an abusive boyfriend jealousy as much as your Captain. This way the case you would be off your hands and you could move on to the next one on the pile resting on the other side of your table.

There isn’t much time left for your Captain’s retirement and your promotion to take his place and both of you are excited for this for different reasons. He has his business planned to stay alongside his family and enjoy his supposed old age papering his grandkids. As a side effect of being taken under your captain’s wings is knowing his family very closely as if you’re part of it, Seungho is his eldest grandkid, only a year older than Minjoo and they go to the same daycare, you’re friends with his mother, your captain’s oldest daughter.

So, yeah, you know everything you need to about him wanting to settle down and he knows all your reasons too. Keeping a low profile is a must in such a crucial moment in this career, but you just can’t look away from what’s in front of you, not when you have such a golden chance in your hands to make this work not just for the CEO’s daughter, but for the others too.

*** 

Your phone buzzes on your desk and the screen displays Hakyeon’s ID along with his picture, one that has him holding Minjoo during her last birthday party, and although the sound is subdued in the noisy room you’re not completely alienated to it, however you decide to ignore it, focusing on the files you have in hand, instead. Trying to connect the dots, because you know something off about this case, you know there must be a connection somewhere and if there is, you better find it fast before it’s too late to do anything about it.

“Lieutenant?” You look up to see Wonshik waiting for you expectantly by your desk, “They got Kim Da Eun’s boyfriend. They’re taking him to the interrogation room right now”, he pants

You jump on your feet and make sure to lock the files you’ve been reading in the lowest drawer on your desk before scooping your phone from your desk and walking hurried steps with Wonshik by your side.

“Who’s with him?”

“Detective Park”, he speaks respectfully

“Jinyoung?”

“Yes”, he nods

“Good”, you mutter more to yourself, then to him, “Did he say anything?”

“Aside from pleading innocence? No, sir.”

“Of course.”

He follows you into the room next to the interrogation room where some of the other detectives are gathered along with the Captain.

“How is it going?” You ask, moving to stand right in front of the two way mirror

“They gave us an alibi”, you Captain speaks, “We’re checking on it”, he adds with eyes glued on the scene unfolding behind the two-way mirror

“Brand named clothes and shoes. Limited edition, artesanal wrist watch…”, Jinyoung clicks his tongue, “You certainly is a high maintenance man”

“Why? Jealous?”, Jongup provokes, “I heard a cop’s pay off is real shit”, he adds, squinting his nose in disgust

“Still better than being a prostitute”

“Wow-wow-wow! Where did that came from?”

“Well, let me see–”, Jinyoung starts sarcastically, leaning back on his chair with arms crossed over his chest, “You’re unemployed and a complete nobody that ran errands for a low-life thug a few weeks ago, then out of nowhere you meet Kim Da Eun. Rich girl with a powerful father. Then, suddenly, you move to a better apartment and starts dressing like a well-bred bastard, except–”, this time Jinyoung’s the one who squints in disgust, “You have a horrible taste”

“I’m not a prostitute! What the fuck?”, Jongup replies outraged, “I’m a personal assistant, ‘lright?”

Jinyoung scoffs much like you on the other side of that mirror, most of the other detectives shake their heads in incredulity.

“Yeah, sure”, you hear someone say, somewhere behind you

“A personal assistant? You?”, Jongup nods insistently

Jinyoung keeps his eyes on Jongup as he opens the file on the table and only looks down to read.

“Moon Jong Up. 23 years old. Barely concluded middle school in a countryside town, the middle of nowhere–”, Jinyoung nudges the file away and looks up again, “How are you a personal assistant for people like Kim Da Eun and her friends?”

“I’m very good at what I do”, Jongup smirks with a careless shrug

“Two people testified that you were Kim Da Eun’s boyfriend, Jongup. Now–”, Jinyoung leans forward again, with his elbows on the table, “You can’t blame me for assuming you’re a prostitute. It’s the best case scenario for you to date a girl like her, even though we both know she could do much better. We understand her friends didn’t want to taint her memory by saying that, but still–”

“Alright, man. Just– stop right there”, Jongup asks in annoyed, raising both hands before dropping them loudly on his lap, “I wasn’t dating her or anything. She was a spoiled, manipulative, annoying bitch. Not exactly my type of fuck, no”

“Then why were you have pointing fingers saying that you were her boyfriend”

Jongup sighs in exasperation, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“The fuck should I know? All I do is fixing parties for these crazy rich kids, man”

“Then, how come Kim Da Eun spent three days in your apartment?”, Jinyoung doesn’t lose a beat and Jongup takes a deep breathe, tonguing the teeth at the back of his mouth and rolling his head with eyes closed.

There’s a silent in the room and Jinyoung nudges his chair closer to the table in between them and smacks his hand very loudly on top of the files, regaining Jongup’s attention in a instant.

“Hey!”, Jinyoung speaks on the top of his lungs and Jongup stares at him, but it’s obvious he wants to look away, “You’re about to be charged with murder.”, Jongup looks away, “Look at me!”

“He definitely knows something”, your captain speaks up

“C’mon.”, you mutter more to yourself than to anyone else in the room, “C’mon, speak up.”

There’s a silence in the room for a moment. Jinyoung watches the Jongup very closely, while Jongup looks everywhere but Jinyoung.

“Jongup”, Jinyoung calls, “Why did you murdered Kim Da Eun?”

“What the–”, Jongup protests comes out as a groan, “I didn’t murder anyone!”

Jinyoung starts talking again, but your attention is robbed by Wonshik, who walks in and hands you a file. You scan the file, reading the report as fast as you can before handing over to you Captain. Dong Il reads and curses under his breath.

“His alibi checks out”, you say in deception before speaking into the microphone, to Jinyoung, “Come over”

Jinyoung leaves Jongup alone in the room with a threatening remark and meets you with the rest of the team inside the two-way mirror room.

“What is it?” He asks as soon as he steps in.

“His alibi checks out”, you repeat and your captain pushes the file on Jinyoung’s chest while you lean on the table behind you with your arms crossed over your chest in annoyance.

“We confirmed he was arrested two days ago for fighting a VVIP member of the Lotus nightclub.”

“How did he got in a place like that?” Jinyoung asks in annoyance

“Even if he worked for Golden Tiger himself he’d need a high status in the syndicate to get in that club”, you comment

“He was a guest for a private party”, the detective makes a pause, “For Kim Da Eun”

“Apparently Jongup and the other guy was hurt pretty bad. They all went to the hospital, Kim Da Eun too. Kim Da Eun and her friend pressed charges against Jongup”, Wonshik explains, “They left and not too long after he was taken into custody by the Department of Organized Crimes, he stayed with them for two days”

“So, we’re back to square one?” Jinyoung asks

“This Kim Da Eun’s friend is the son of one of Kim Shin Il’s associates. I’ll call the judge, he won’t show up unless we summon him”, you add, “Go back there and try to find something about this other guy and that fight. If he didn’t mention anything about it, then he’s definitely hiding something”

Jinyoung motions his head before leaving the room and you watch him start the interrogation again before leaving the room with your phone in hand. You don’t notice your Captain following you.

“I’m relieved”, he speaks up with a smile and you raise your eyebrows in confusion, “The next Captain is competent”

He doesn’t wait for you to say anything, just walks away. Whistling his favorite tune with his hands in his pockets and it’s only when he’s quite far that you let it sink in and smiles to yourself at the thought before going back to what you were doing.

It takes some talk and some convincing, but once you get the okay from the judge, you go back to the room, to watch the interrogation.

“We confirmed it was your blood on Kim Da Eun’s hands… literally. So, I’m pretty sure we can hold you here”, Jinyoung states

“Are you fucking kidding me?”, Jongup protests, “I already told you!”, he speaks loud in frustration looking at Jinyoung, before looking at you, “There was a fight at the club, I got hurt and she got… dirty. That crazy bitch”

He whispers the last part to himself and abruptly stands up to lift his shirt up his torso to show the cut, the blood on the wound soaking the bandages.

“Sit down!” Jinyoung commands, stepping further into the room and slamming the file on the table, but he stays standing up

“You see this?” Jongup points at the wound, “It was two days ago and it’s bleeding again because you people keep assaulting me”

“You’re the one getting worked up”, Jinyoung clarifies  in a low, threatening tone, “Now, sit. Down.”

If it was either Jinyoung’s piercing glare or the way he spoke in a yet darker tone, hissing the words with jaw tightened that made Jongup swallow hard and obey, you don’t know. But it works quite a lot.

“I was in jail! I was in a cell for almost two days”, he starts again, more quiet this time

“We already know that part. Tell why you fought with that other guy”, Jinyoung presses and Jongup goes silent again, “Are you scared of losing your sponsor or something?”

“Look. You don’t mess with people like him, okay?”

“Why? Why is so scary about him? Huh?”, Jinyoung smiles, leaning further on the table and closer Jongup, “I’ll make this clear. We won’t have nothing to hold against you if you just say what you know about this guy”

Jinyoung slides a printed screencap from a CCTV from the file, towards Jongup. Keeping his eyes locked with the other’s.

“Just tell me what you know about the guy and we can let you go”

Jongup hesitates before looking at the photo other table, his eyes shift between the photo and Jinyoung. He presses his lips and looks away, lost in thoughts for a moment.

“I’m–”, Jongup hesitates, “I’m not saying he killed her, ‘lright?”, the fear and hesitation is more than clear as he speaks, stealing glances at Jinyoung

“Why? Do you think he could murder Kim Da Eun?”

“I don’t know, man…”

“Hey, Moon Jongup!” Jinyoung calls, loud and clear, “Look at me. Speak clearly.”, he commands

Jongup does as he’s told. When he starts speaking again he’s still hesitating and biting down on his lips, but at least he’s looking back at Jinyoung.

“All I know is that he’s a twisted bastard”, Jongup speaks up, “Mr. Kim wanted his daughter to date this dude, but Da Eun came to me–”

“To you?” Jinyoung asked skeptically

“All I know is that she wanted someone to protect her from this crazy-ass dude. She was scared of him”

“Did she tell you why?” Jongup hesitates to answer, “Jongup!”

“I told you, he’s crazy”, Jongup halts

“How?”

“He’s a controlling freak. A total psycho, I’m telling you��

Sometimes comes to your mind and you reach for the microphone again.

“Jinyoung, ask if Kim Da Eun was being abused by her boyfriend”, there a pause while you stand back and Jinyoung asks

“You bet. Just ask anyone, if you make sure he won’t do anything to them, they might speak up too. Or just check on his ex-girlfriend.”

“So why did Kim Da Eun choose you?”

“Because she knows I’m good at what I do”

“You were a low-life thug.”

“Exactly–”, Jongup motions his head with a shrug, “I’m good at what I do”, he repeats himself

“Then, what happened?” Jinyoung presses in urgency

“The guy is like a vicious dog”, Jongup stresses clearly, tapping his index finger on the table to make the gravity of his words worth, “He came to the club and tried to take her away, calling her all kinds of stuff, trying to drag her away–  He was high on something. I tried protecting her–my job, remember? But the crazy son of a bitch cut me open with a fucking broken bottle”

“You said he was high–”, Jinyoung insists, “Is he addicted to any illicit drug?”

Jongup scoffs. “Why? Do I get extra points if I answer that one?”

“It doesn’t matter. We have what we need to get the playboy over”, you say out loud to the others, “Wonshik, go check on the summon the judge is supposed to send. I’ll be on my desk.”

This is heading down the same path, only now the person to have fingers pointed at is different. You know quite well, how this might end, but you can’t take those files locked in a drawer out of your head. You know there’s something about it that connects everything.

⇽ chapter 01 | chapter 03  ⇾

[listenbang]

THE CYMBAL CRASHING CLOUDS

Four years ago today, I started this blog. The blog’s name came from the first track of The Cymbal Crashing Clouds, a full-length solo record by Nashville songwriter and producer Ben Shive. I didn’t know it at the time, but the day I created Listen! was Ben Shive’s birthday! And so I think it would be neat and even appropriate to write today about one of my favorite albums.

1. Listen! 2. EGBDF 3. Sorry, But I'm Yours 4. Someone Is Asking 5. The Fall 6. Shooting the Moon 7. She's Invincible 8. The Fire Pit 9. Your Secret Smile 10. A Last Time for Everything

I remember when The Cymbal Crashing Clouds was released. It was late Summer / early Autumn of 2011, around this time of year seven years ago. I remember that time in my life to be a blur. I was learning a lot. A lot about the gospel. A lot about God. His Holiness, His love. A love so profound that it would chase me to the ends of the world. I was realizing, too, that I was a very weak and needy person (I guess I’m still realizing that). 

I had known of Ben Shive as a writer and producer (Andrew Peterson, Sara Groves) for a while, but had only just discovered his solo work on The Ill-Tempered Klavier, his 2008 release. I loved what I heard there and hoped for more. I remember the weeks leading up to the release of The Cymbal Crashing Clouds. I remember the expectation I felt. I remember my jaw dropping as I heard snippets of the record. In fact, I don’t remember a time where I was more keenly anticipating the release of a record. And my expectations were met and exceeded the night I got the album and listened through it for the first time. I felt then — and feel it even stronger now — The Cymbal Crashing Clouds is a quintessential record.

“Listen!” is the first track on the record (the song this blog is named after!). It opens with dueling train whistles. The train whistles actually sound throughout, as the song’s base (and um, it’s genius…). A shimmering opener, “Listen!” sets the tone for the rest of the record. Vibrant and strong. Brilliant in lyric and composition. The song tells of an encounter with the grandeur of God. It is inspired by Scripture, like many of the songs on CCC. I’ve written more about this song in another post. 

THE LYRICS

OK, let me tell you about Ben Shive’s lyric writing. It is stunning. Wonderful. Captivating. The Cymbal Crashing Clouds is a thematic album, where unconscious, inanimate objects speak eternal truths. A train, a bust of Beethoven, a Nintendo console, the Fall leaves, and a fire pit are just a few of the characters. And they all tell of the God who stepped into our sin-broken world, to bring us truth and grace.

There’s a trend in songs coming out of the church; it’s a trend that’s been gaining traction for the last decade or so. Vagueness. And along with that, irrelevance. Because most of the time, the writers of these songs aren’t even sure what they’re writing about. In CCC I’m not hearing vagueness. Instead, it seems the more I listen, that each song has a message that is intentionally hiding behind a story, an image, a character. This is the way of a parable. But to those looking for truth, the meaning will find them. That’s the beauty of a parable.

For instance, “EGBDF” is a song about Ben’s struggle as a boy to please his piano teacher, only to get fired in the end. And how later on, music came alive for him in a surprising way upon discovering his father’s record collection. That’s the basic drift of the song, and it’s already a great song. But when you find out that the frowning Beethoven bust in the piano teacher’s living room is symbolic of Moses, and the frown of God’s holy law on our imperfection, the song opens to a new dimension, and so beautifully describes the gospel and the work of grace in the heart. I really like the metaphor the second verse makes to describe what God’s holiness requires of us, and how we fall far short:

Mrs. H was unimpressed Though I had practiced religiously Never mind that I was practicing To master Super Mario 3 And soon she put my memory behind her And fired me with the biting reminder that Every good boy does fine

Ben has the ability to paint with his words. Every time I hear “Someone is Asking,” I clearly, vividly see the scene the lyrics are portraying, and I wish the scene could transform into a watercolor painting. But I don’t know if a painting would do justice to the imagery this song creates in my mind. Added to that, the song is a brilliant sweeping celebration of Christ and his love for the church. I’m wowed every time I hear it. Also, I love that it’s pretty much a modern jazz standard. 

The more I listen to these songs, the more I realize the mastery behind their writing. I feel like there’s much more to them than my dull mind can grasp. “A Last Time for Everything” is a heartbreaking and glorious song that Ben wrote for his friend Emmet, who was dying of cancer. Hymn-like, it alludes to the finished work of Christ on our behalf. Ben got to sing it for Emmet before he died. 

You're gonna wake up soon In your lonely room To the sound of a singing bird Throw the curtain back To find your bag's already packed And the cab is at the curb Then like a bad dream Unreal in the morning light So will the world seem When you see it in the mirror for the last time

THE MUSIC

The music of The Cymbal Crashing Clouds is diverse. It draws from pop, rock, jazz, and soul traditions. It’s nostalgic. It reminds me in a way of the sound of Fleet Foxes, who have at times limited their instrumentation and style to a certain musical era or “world,” you might say. And it seems Ben has done a similar thing: set creative rules to go by in his delivery and production of CCC. This almost seems harder to do than trying to sound “modern” and “hip.” But Ben does this in such a natural way. And somehow, the constraining only broadens the creative horizon of the record! There are unapologetic references to the Beatles and the Beach Boys throughout the album — both musically and lyrically. “Your Secret Smile” is about Brian Wilson and the story of an unfinished record called Smile. It wasn’t until listening to the Smile sessions afterward, that I realized how much of an influence those songs were on Ben Shive’s music. 

One thing that Ben gets a lot of requests for is his orchestral arrangement, and there are amazing string arrangements throughout this record. I’m a sucker for seventies-swelling string whimsy, so the string section toward the end of “Listen!” always gets me!! Every track on the album is so well choreographed. The interwoven strings, I would say, are the “cherry on top.”

Looking back, I feel like the reception of this record was not what it should have been; it’s a bit disappointing. And it mystifies me. What happened to The Cymbal Crashing Clouds? Why was it not more eagerly received and appreciated? Especially by the church, where eyes and ears are said to be opened to true beauty. Was it its musical “indieness”? Its lyrical intricacy? Or perhaps it was the owl-man on the front, I don’t know. But I do know there’s good news in these songs, and beauty for those who have ears to hear.

Yesterday I was driving through town and listening to “The Fall” —

The summer sun, once young and wild, Is a little wiser and his eyes are tired; He nods his head mid-afternoon And then he’s off to bed.

So while the days are ripe and sweet We heap them up in baskets at our feet And do our best to use them well, Cause they won’t last.

Leaves are turning everywhere; the days are getting shorter. It’s a beautiful time of year. Yesterday, Ben Shive’s “The Fall” reminded me of something I believe God is telling us through this season: That the year is coming to a close, and so are our lives. The year speeds by, and ends with a sigh, just like a lifetime. O Lord, teach us to number our days. By the way, “The Fall” is one of the most brilliant songs of all time…

Since its release in 2011, The Cymbal Crashing Clouds has probably become my most played album. I always get something new from it. Every time. And it’s plain fun to listen to as well. This album has become the soundtrack for many precious memories in my life. Every time I hear it, I’m filled with gratitude for this collection of songs and for Ben Shive, in opening up and letting us hear them. And I’m still hoping that Ben lets us hear more, because I know there’s more…

As the needle deciphered the song from the vinyl, I went stumbling down halls ever spiraling– Drawn to the center, the strings all ascending, A long chord decaying, a song in a circle unending...

A train passes our house daily. It has the exact same whistle as the one that plays at the beginning of Ben Shive’s album. I hear it most distinctly in the mornings, as it passes through the sleepy countryside and rings its rousing dissonant cry. Now every time I hear it, I hear the cymbal crashing clouds. And I’m reminded that the God of history — the God of the universe — is calling out to me. That in each day, even in the mundane things, there can be an encounter with his majesty. My response, then, is that of the boy awakened in the night by the voice of God — “Here am I.”

The Cymbal Crashing Clouds can be found (at least for now) at the Rabbit Room, and I would strongly (even forcibly) suggest you go there and get it! You won’t regret it! And while you’re at it, you can get the book — did I mention that he wrote a book with the same name‽ Countless times I’ve reread that fascinating little book. And I’ve always gone away inspired (and that’s where I got those awesome drawings from).

[stanleychristopher]

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[childofjesus]

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[rebelsplaygroundsaga]

𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

(PART ONE)

Camille Monfils

To the ones who stayed in the darkness with me.

I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand, why storms are named after people.

- Caitlyn Siehl

Part I:

 

Sad Eyes☽

ONE

‪October 31st,‬

It’s been said that small towns are like black holes. Nothing changes, it’s impossible to leave and in the end, you’re just a part of it. A popular opinion among the teenagers in this small town. Being born in the same hospital as their parents and graduating from the same high school, that was inevitable. Their biggest fear though, was still living there afterwards and becoming actual victims of the black hole effect like they’d seen their parents do.

Deadwood, a town that supposedly got its name from the dead timber near the town’s creek banks. A place where the population was smaller than the amount of students who attend most universities. Granted, to most people the abundant forests and farmlands it seemed like the ideal place to raise children or to live out the rest of their days. However, for the youths who craved adventure and excitement, the history and splendour of a small town was anything but satisfactory. There were no arcades, malls or movie theatres to keep adolescents busy, but the creative ones always found something to do.

A 100 acres of land graced by a secluded white dutch colonial home with green shutters overlooked the main road. There was little about the house that gave any clue as to the kind of people who lived there.

Inside, Magic’s bedroom wasn’t quite in harmony with the rest of the house’s vintage decor. The glare from the neon pink woman’s body shaped light bounced off the lavender coloured walls covered in erotic drawings and paintings of nude women. The room combined modern trends, a bit of punk rock, goth and festival fashion reflecting her rebellious spirit and attitude. She hadn’t changed it

much over the years, she just kept adding to it as time passed. 

Magic was curled up next to the open casement bow window smoking a joint. Her hair tied in a messy bun in a beautiful undone look that said “I-roll-out-of-bed-cool”. She wore a tank top tied into a lush knot just over her navel with a pair of high waisted retro fleece shorts, fuzzy pink socks and signature tattoo choker. Her style was very much a throwback to when Tumblr was all the rage, and 90s aesthetics were combined with soft pink materials and Lolita-esque doe-eyed attitude.

Her dark gaze focused on the moon. There was a certain drama about her eyes. The colour of hot chocolate on a cold winter night. Those deep pools of chocolaty swirls seized the depth and heaviness of a thousand untold stories. I’ve always been different, she thought reaching for the heart-shaped ashtray next to a collection of vintage horror movies.

Her childhood was pretty normal, maybe even happy at times, but that changed when she grew into her looks as a teenager. By the time Magic was fifteen, she went from being the kind of girl who didn’t get noticed to the kind of girl who got almost too much attention.

Exhaling a large cloud of smoke, she reflected on her past, reminding herself of all the worst things she did and that happened to her. She was pretty and smart, but she had a dark mind with a tendency to romanticized depression and engaged in acts of self-mutilation. Yet, that day something was different. Magic woke up with an incredibly peaceful feeling. Usually, her mind moved at what felt like a million miles a minute. She would remember all the things she had to do, and would just want to hide under the covers. That morning it was as if she had finally woken up well-rested.

Squeezing the joint between her lips, she unraveled her hair tie revealing the most amazing head of hair. Thick strands fell onto her cheeks all the way down to her elbows flourishing into voluminous ringlets in a rich chestnut. She brushed her fingers through her long soft curls radiating an untidy and rebellious style.

She opened the mirrored closet doors and pushed the clothes on the hangers to one side, uncovering a photograph of a misty lake with a large cross emerging from the water pinned to the wall. Wax streamed down to the face of the shelf from a set of melted candles. Each item placed in a precise manner. On the left, there was a cat skull and on the right was a large amethyst crystal. A black dagger was placed horizontally before a calligraphy pentagram painted on the face of the shelf.

Magic slid the doors shut when she heard footsteps coming from the hallway. She made a half-hearted attempt to hide the joint by cupping her palm behind her hip.

Mrs. Jones walked into the bedroom. Her caramel coloured hair pined up in a neat French twist with a fringe that she used to hide the aging lines on her forehead. She waved her hand as if it would push the harsh herbal odour away.

“God, it reeks in here.” A hint of southern accent when she spoke.

Born and raised in Louisiana, she learned all about cooking and Catholicism from her mother’s mother, interests she wasn’t fortund enough to pass down to her own daughter.

“I was just burning some sage,” Magic said. 

Mrs. Jones rolled her eyes while making her way to the vanity cluttered with makeup products. It was beyond disappointing to her that Magic engaged in such acts of witchery, then again there wasn’t much she didn’t find disappointing when it came to her daughter. In retrospect, Magic always thought it was hyporcritical of her mother to go to church every Sunday when she was clearly breaking her vows.

“I thought you’d already left,” Magic said.

Mrs. Jones set her wool trench coat down on the vanity chair. “Where are those earrings you borrowed last week?” Her hands already riffling through the jewellery box. She moved a few things around until she spotted the pair of emerald earrings next to a rack of lipsticks. “Never mind. Here they are.” She looked herself in the lighted makeup mirror and put the earrings on. “I fear they’re too ladylike for you,” she said expressing her well hidden inner cattiness.

Magic didn’t even care what came out of her mother’s mouth anymore. She understood that there came a hard time in life when a child had to realize their parents were not perfect. That they’re human, and humans are barely more than monkeys in shoes. Her mother started seeing another man a few months ago. Either it was an affair or maybe her parents had agreed to an open relationship, but kept it quiet to avoid stigma or talking to her about it. All she knew for sure was that it wasn’t her job to police her parents marriage.

Mrs. Jones fixed the neckline of her wrap dress and smirked. “Do you really think I can’t smell what you’re doing in here?”

“Oh that, must be the sage,” She fretted.

“Mhmm.”

A sudden stinging sensation manifested itself in the palm of Magic’s hand and she let out a small ouch.

 

Mrs. Jones turned, extending her arm. “The entire upstairs reeks of marijuana. You think I don’t know when you smoke.” She brought the joint to her lips and took a long drag, letting the smoke fill her lungs for a moment. “At least you’re not getting cheap shit,” she exhaled.

Magic was relieved her mother wasn’t going to give an hour lecture about the dangers of smoking weed.

“You’re lucky it’s your birthday.” Mrs. Jones spoke through a furrowed brow when a honk came from outside. “Now with that said, I’m already late.” She took one last look at herself in the mirror, tucking in a loose strand of hair. “Your father is downstairs watching tv. There’s leftovers in the refrigerator if you get hungry.” She put her coat over her shoulders, then looked her daughter dead in the eyes. “You do not leave this house,” she said in an uncompromising tone. “I don’t want you hanging out with that homo friend of yours and pulling the same shit as last month.” Mrs. Jones held up her woven clutch, pointing her index finger at her daughter. “No leaving the house. I mean it. I don’t care if it’s your birthday. You don’t know what kind of horrors await a girl like you.”

“Yes, mom.” Magic would say anything to get her mother to leave. “Your ride’s waiting.”

Mrs. Jones slipped out and the door shut behind her. In one quick motion she leapt onto her bed, looking out the window where she saw a strangers vehicle in the driveway. She watched her mom get into the silver Eldorado, keeping an eye on the vehicle until it pulled out of the driveway. A sudden ring pierced the silence and the iPhone on her nightstand lit up with a new text message. 

Magic flipped her hair back and shuffled over to her vanity, facing the mirror and thinking about what colours would work best. She quickly regretted not having tested her make up before. Her friends would surely go all out and she had to look fabulous if she wanted to keep up with them. Fortunately, she had already tweaked her eyebrows to flawlessness. Her face and neck had already been contoured and highlighted, and her clear almond-shaped nails had been filled earlier that week. This was her 18th Birthday after all. Still, there was much to do and little time.

She prepared all of her products and began the makeup process. First, applying black liquid eyeliner, a crucial part of her everyday look. Second, she applied mascara making her eyelashes wispy and cat-like. To really pull her makeup together, she applied a shimmery shade of dusty rose coloured lip stain that made her lips look extra plump and pouty. For her hair, she straightened it with a flat iron for a neater look making the strands even longer.

Magic tossed her clothes on the floor in front of the laundry hamper which was already full of clothes. She slipped into a white mini dress full of whimsy with an intricate paisley lace overlay and nude lining. It had an open scalloped neckline and sheer sleeves. On her feet, she wore Dr. Martens platform boots another critical aspect to her everyday look. Lastly, a set of delicate wings that were so realistic, turning her into a bejewelled angel.

By the time she’d finished taking a few selfies hoping at least one would be profile worthy, the rumbling of a truck engine could be heard outside. Magic looked out the window and saw the old red Chevy pickup. The young man in the driver’s seat smiled and waved.

Ricky was pubescent looking, but tall with black hair long enough to be swept back. That night, he wore a black and white skeleton onesie as a costume with the sleeves pushed back revealing his tattooed arms. He was a well established bad boy known for his tattoos, playing the drums and being a descent skateboarder.

“One minute,” Magic mouthed before shuffling over to her laptop. She put an extensively long playlist on and turned up the volume, making it easier to slip in and out of the house more subtly. Then, she cautiously crawled out of the window and they drove off.

[frozenartscapes]

My Thoughts on The Ice Dress

So, while it’s difficult to tell, it’s unpopular opinion time (or maybe it’s popular opinion time? Who knows?): I’m not a huge fan of the whole ice dress trend in Frozen. It seems like the fandom is split 50-50 on this, but here are my thoughts about it.

Don’t get me wrong: the original ice dress is beautiful, and its symbolism is also very important. It was born consuming the dress from Elsa’s coronation, turning the dark and conservative fabric into a shining, free-flowing, and beautiful outfit representing everything Elsa desired to become during Let It Go. In that moment she’s not dwelling on the past, on the pain, on trying to be perfect - she’s only focused on being herself. The dress represents a transformation in her character in that moment, and it is incredibly important both for the story and for who she is.

But...personally, I think that’s also my issue with it. The thing I find so poignant about it is that not even ten minutes movie-time after that transformation, she’s back to all her old habits: she’s anxious, she’s fearful, she’s berating herself. After that incident with Anna, and finding out about the state of Arendelle, it’s like that whole incredibly powerful song never even happened. Nothing really changed aside from something superficial like her wardrobe. The real change happens later, when she accepts her sister into her life again.

I get the point of continuing to have her in the ice dress: as mentioned earlier, it’s meant to be a representation of her throwing away the past and starting new. But, I’m not so sure having her always in that dress is the best way to go about it.

There’s the fact that it’s lazy, especially given how Anna seems to have a new outfit every time its indicated there’s been a day change. I get animation is a difficult medium but do you really think a fucking Queen capable of making her own clothes would wear the same damn thing everyday? It’s either telling me she literally wears the same dress everyday or that uniquely creative personality you’re trying to give her is going out the window because she only knows one dress style.

But here’s the thing where I see most of the fandom either in agreement or disagreement: I like her jacket dress better. For two reasons: one, visually, I just like it better. I like the patterns, the details, the colour. It just goes much better with her character, I find. And two, it’s more practical. It’s normal, it’s casual - you know, as far as royal clothing in the 19th Century goes. I can’t tell you how annoyed I get when I see things where Elsa’s out in the fucking woods and she’s doing so with a long, very delicate train of ice dragging after her (the comics are especially bad for that). Like, I can get in the context of the actual movie why she’d maybe be doing that, but for every other time now that she’s back home and has access to clothes better suited for hiking through the forest I refuse to believe she’d be that stupid. Don’t believe me? Even her actress in Once Upon a Time can attest to the dress being bad for wandering through the woods.

The jacket dress also has an interesting trait that I really think is lost on any of the ice dress variations, and don’t worry: I’ll get to those. Take a look at what Anna is wearing, and also what their parents are wearing:

Now compare that to the jacket dress:

There are influences from these other characters in this style of dress, influences that are lost in the ice dress. Granted, the rosemaling style is typical for the region Arendelle is based on, but that’s only one connection. The colour scheme is very similar to that of her mother’s dress. Same thing goes for that blue broach on her collar. But the jacket - that’s more like her father. Note the little crocus you can see on her belt in the concept art. The same design appears on the cuffs of his sleeves (although it’s difficult to tell in these images). While a bit of a stretch, the fact that she’s in an outfit like this rather than something more similar to Anna tells me that there’s some kind of connection being made to him, and his choice of a military uniform-style, even when not making formal appearances. Elsa, being a princess, wouldn’t wear something quite so obvious, but the jacket still is a nice callback.

But the ice dress and it’s variations don’t have any connection. They are entirely separate from her past life, and, by proxy, her parents. There’s nothing there anymore. And if they had been presented in a way that made them less amiable, and more abusive, I can see this as a good thing. But they weren’t. Misguided, yes, but I choose to believe that after that initial bad decision they spent the rest of their lives trying to make up for it, and the King’s heartfelt and genuine “You’ll be fine” is indicative of that. I don’t believe that Anna and Elsa especially have moved on from their deaths as much as the movie and shorts are showing. Elsa, who internalizes so much, who loved her parents with all her heart so much that she refused to touch them fearing causing them harm, who never got to hug them goodbye but instead simply curtsied as if they were foreign dignitaries and not her parents, who asked fearfully if they really had to go, who was never even able to go to their funeral because of her powers, I think, would have so much to work through. Even more so now, now that she’s finally allowing herself to feel and think about her emotions and is finally beginning to process those thirteen years of piled up issues. And I don’t think the ice dress is doing anything to help that.

Instead I would have preferred her going back to those same colours and styles, maybe initially concerning the people close to her that she was falling back into old habits. But she’s not, it’s just that those clothes are a way for her to still feel close to the parents she never allowed herself to touch. Maybe, slowly, she starts adding little touches with ice to make the outfits more her, but it’s just a little thing. I realize that this would warrant a whole short, if not chunk in a movie to explain, and it’s much easier visually to continue putting her in the ice dress for the shorts. But they could have done this in a comic or something.

And, ok, while the last little bit there is more of my own headcanon, what I will say in the broader sense is that the ice dress really should have been reserved for more special occasions. Honestly, if they had made the Frozen Fever dress as something that wasn’t just a carbon copy painted green and pink, and maybe utilized a more practical jacket dress or even if they had started the short with her in a more normal dress I wouldn’t have minded. Depending on what you choose to believe is canon, either Anna’s birthday occurred a few weeks after the events of Frozen, or it happened a little less than a year after. And I’m honestly not sure which is better: that Elsa literally wore the same dress for several weeks after making it or that she wore the same thing, perhaps on and off but still coincidentally on the day the short began, for almost a year. Maybe for the actual celebration the flower/ice dress would have been cool to change into, but for the bulk of the short they’re running around town - by the pier, up a clocktower, riding a bike - and especially before when it’s just the setup why bother with something with a long-ass train behind you? There’s only so much believability you can give, and considering one time I nearly wiped out because my pant leg got caught in the chain of my bike I refuse to believe that that tandem bike would work with that dress.

Same thing goes with the newest dress for Olaf’s Frozen Adventure: it’s an improvement, but it’s still the same kind of shape and form, and it still has that long fucking cape. It’s a beautiful cape, don’t get me wrong, but for the whole short? Where it looks like there’ll be more hiking through the woods, more traversing the town, and skating - where, again, I might be able to believe it if it were just Elsa, what with her being the Snow Queen and all, but have you ever been skating? There’s a reason figure skaters don’t wear long, flowing pieces on their outfits. The smallest thing that isn’t ice getting caught under your skate will send you flying. And don’t even get me started on the fact that it looks like Elsa’s able to spin like that in high heels. Those must be the strongest heels in existence.

I’m actually a little disappointed that the creators of Frozen never made a “blooper reel” like some other animation companies do. Because never has there been a movie that warranted it more: think about all the ice blunders, the surprise snowballs, the various hijinks that can occur when mixing people and skates. But there should be a whole segment of Elsa getting clotheslined by all the capes she wears getting caught on stuff.

And while some people may point out that long capes seem to be her thing, as the coronation dress also has one, to that I say: It was a coronation dress. It was supposed to be grand, and stunning, and impressive. It was also supposed to be worn solely for that night. How many people choose to believe that literally any other queen in history wore the same thing she wore to her coronation around her castle afterward? Do you honestly think Queen Elizabeth II was wandering around Buckingham Palace a few days after her coronation in the same thing, with that long, fur-lined train dragging around after her? No. So why would Elsa? The thing about the coronation dress, and any of the ice dresses, is that they are meant to give an idea of her character to other people, specifically her subjects and other dignitaries. The long trains and the intricate embellishments show off her status as Queen. But when she’s not trying to show off - when she’s alone or with close friends and family, it just seems out of place and impractical. It’s on the same level as Anna racing off into a winter-cursed forest in a summer ballgown. We were shown just how well that worked out, so why not the other way around? 

My last point (I swear I’m almost done) is this: the ice dress reminds people that Elsa is the Snow Queen. Nothing particularly wrong with that, except when it’s constantly reminding people of that, both fictional characters in-universe and us, as the real people watching/reading the media. As of right now, having seen some of the comics and what they’ve been doing in the various shorts, the writers are trying very hard to make sure we all know Elsa has ice and snow powers. Whether or not that’s their choice, or something they were told to do by Disney’s marketing department, is up in the air. But it is happening, anyway. And while it is important for us to see that she’s since gotten much more comfortable with people knowing what she can do, there is a way to take that too far. Because right now, Elsa’s sole identity is based off her powers. Especially so in how she presents herself to minor characters. There’s really no attempt made to differentiate Elsa as a character from her magic: she is defined by being the person with magic. And this isn’t particularly great for her character - it limits growth and development when all she’s known for is her magic. There are other facets of Elsa’s character that are being swept under the rug to make way for more snow-based hijinks, and honestly it’s not a very smart move. I’d argue that a lot of Elsa’s charm as a character came from her more relatable personality traits, such as how she handles nervousness, or her intense drive to be responsible and grown up in the face of so much pain and misfortune, or even despite how quickly she had to grow up she still had this underlying playfulness and kindness. Elsa is much more than her magic, and as much as we love to label her as the Queen of Ice and Snow, she isn’t just that. So by parading her around in the same icy dress all the time, all that’s really happening is that visual of her being a magic snow queen is constantly being pushed at us, with no attempt made at trying to show any other side of her character. I’d be less annoyed by this if it also wasn’t reinforced by constantly having her solve any problem by using her magic (in this case I’m talking more about the comics). Magic - or any physical power - should never be used as a defining character trait. It might have influences in things that actually define a character, like in Elsa’s case how her magic was the reason she harbours so much guilt about the past and now does everything in her power to fix it. The focus needs to be on the character and who they are as a person, not their abilities. Focusing only on that makes a story boring, and a character flat and one dimensional (especially given the range of Elsa’s abilities, it seems like there’s nothing she can’t solve, which doesn’t allow for any conflict).

To be completely honest, I would have actually preferred the ice dress more if it was like the one from the upcoming musical. From the sound of things, that dress changes to fit Elsa’s mood, so while it might start glittery and magnificent when she first makes it, it later shifts into something more resembling rags once she starts beating herself up for her mistakes. It makes the dress dynamic, and better represents Elsa’s mental breakthrough regarding her powers and how she feels about them. It shows us that there’s more to it than simply spawning a nice dress and everything being ok, and it shows us that her recovery isn’t quite as quick and easy as it first seemed. But by keeping the dress static, never changing even its shape from day to day, and only varying from other forms by colour, or sleeves, or adding a few embellishments, it’s not really helping her character. It’s latching onto that Snow Queen image and not letting go, and not allowing any other aspects of her personality to show through. It’s also super impractical in, like, 90% of the things she does. That’s not to say it’s a bad dress, or what it’s come to symbolize is wrong, but it’s something that really should have been toned down in its usage. I’m really hoping they do that in the sequel.