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jarofstyles · 4 years

Text

Crush

A/N: this one.... biiiitch.... giving you all a little college!harry, he’s so cute 👉🏼👈🏼 enjoy hehe 😈 - n + d

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pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut. FILTH.

word count: 9.7k

Harry felt a bit creepy.

It wasn’t as if it was on purpose! No... but she was at all of the places he went. At first he had thought it was a coincidence, but as he developed a routine for his classes, he found that they were often around each other for similar reasons. And usually? He would try and go up, introduce himself, and make a friend. The problem was... she was pretty.

Not like normal pretty. Pretty as in, holy fuck you make me so nervous and perhaps I’ll word vomit, pretty. He was shit at making the first move. She was in his Monday and Friday classes and sat not far from him, he noticed. And they always ended up at the Coffee Bean on Tuesday and Thursdays, sitting not too far from one another again. She got tea with a few cookies, and he got a black coffee and an orange scone. They’d work on their coursework and Harry would wait for her to leave and see her make it to her car before he would leave, not wanting to make it seem like he was following her. He’s found out her name through friends stopping in to see her. It was Y/N. Gorgeous, just like her.

Funny enough, Harry wasn’t the only one who had a bit of a crush. Y/N realized in the second week of classes that Harry was in fact one of the most intimidatingly cool and attractive men she’d ever seen. College boys weren’t supposed to look like that, but he was all soft in his sweaters and baggy pants. She wasn’t sure how he pulled it off so well, but she could admit she was jealous.

Seeing him at the Coffee bean was a relief because well, he walked in after her every time. She assumed it was because he had a class that ended later or something, but it didn’t go unnoticed that he was there. Usually it wasn’t too busy or loud so she could glance at him from the corner of her eye as they sat at one of the big tables. She felt like it would be too weird to talk to him, he seemed so... quiet. She’d never heard him speak, hell, she’d only ever locked eyes with him for milliseconds. Y/N wished she could be one of those girls that could effortlessly flirt, ask for a pencil or something, but she knew she’d freeze up and forget her rehearsed line.

Today however, when Y/N arrived, Harry was already there at his usual spot. Okay, Y/N... act natural. She thought to herself, going to order her usual before walking to boldly take a seat across from him. It would have worked out fine if her tote bag didn’t accidentally catch the corner of one of his books, sending things flying.

“Shit— sorry, I—” Y/N swore, setting her bag on the table before bending down to get the book and a few papers and a pen. Real smooth.

Harry was slightly startled when his shit went flying, but when he saw who had knocked it over, his heart picked up. Oh, shit.

“Oh— it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Harry’s voice was a bit gruff from not using it much today, pushing his chair back and bending down to grab the stuff with her. “S’my fault for putting it so close to the edge. I used to do that at home and my cat would knock it all off.”

Great. Already rambling.

Y/N didn’t register it at first, but he was british? Fuck. If she wasn’t already on her knees she would dropped down anyway, biting her lip to stop any noises that could have escaped. She giggled when he said his cat used to knock things over, “mine too.” She mumbled and went to stand up, feeling a tug at her arm.

“Ah, shit.” Harry had caught his ring in her sweater, pulling one of the threads. “Damn, I’m so sorry.” He blushed slightly, knowing how annoying it was to have a pulled thread. His collection of sweaters was immense, thanks to his nan— and he felt terrible. Damn his chunky things. “They always get caught in mine too but I wear them anyways. I can replace the sweater, if you need.” Damn it. He was trying to come off as smooth... not so nervous. But he was. She was so pretty and she was up close, she smelled like peaches and vanilla and a bit of sweet mint and her hands were so soft.

“Oh no, It’s fine! it’s old anyway— I can just cut it off or tuck it in or something.” Honestly, Y/N would figure it out. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad, it was an accident after all. She let him untangle it, holding her hand still though it seemed like he needed some help. “Smaller fingers...” She mumbled, using her nails to get the thread gently off of the ring. “‘s a nice ring.” Y/N complimented, finally meeting his eyes and feeling the breath leave her lungs at the close proximity. Her lips parted naturally, scanning his face for any signs of discomfort.

She was beautiful Harry though he may get sick because wow. Wow. He had imagined holding her hand and kissing her but this exact moment he hadn’t a clue on what to do. So he improvised.

“Are you in the 8 am psych class on Mondays?” He tilted his head. “I know I’ve seen you before.” Oh, he had seen her a lot. Especially in his dreams, day and night. It had been a bit intoxicating, really. At her nod, his grin came on his face. “Sick. S’that what you’re gonna study for?” He didn’t bring up the other class because... it would be embarrassing if she hadn’t noticed him before and he knew all too much. He needed a refill of his coffee though so he grabbed his cup, gently taking her things and placing them on the table next to his. “At least let me buy your stuff though. I feel awful about your sweater.”

“I’m actually just waiting on them to finish making mine, I was on my way to secure a spot but—” Y/N blushed, realizing the mess she had made. “Could you get it for me while you’re up there? It’s for Y/N. I can sit here and watch your stuff.” She felt like that was a subtle way for her to tell him her name.

This was the most she had ever spoken to him and it had been about a month or so that she’d been eyeing him up. She knew he was in her English literature class as well, but psych was her major. Y/N wondered if maybe he too was a psych major, maybe that’s why they sort of had the same schedule? Regardless, she felt a bit nervous making conversation so she spent the time he was away coming up with what she was going to ask him and how she was going to keep the ball rolling. Hopefully she didn’t interrupt his studying, if anything she’d leave him alone.

“Y/N?” He tested it on his tongue out loud for the first time. It tasted good. “Yeah. M’Harry. I’ll be back.” He nodded, going towards the front. His heart going a mile a minute, he couldn’t believe how quickly his luck had changed. He ordered an extra cake pop today, for her. she had said it didn’t matter but to him, it did. Eventually he hoped he could buy her a replacement. Or... maybe she could wear his around. Wow. That would stroke his ego and his fragile heart to the core. He could already see her on his lavender fishermen’s sweater, in front of his fireplace back at home. She would be so cute. The voice calling her name snapped him out of the fantasy, Harry grabbing it and then his own shortly after before returning to the table. “Here. I got the last cake pop for you. Don’t tell anyone I’m the offender.”

“Ooo you’re a dead man if they find out.” Y/N said, looking around before gently taking it from him. “Thank you... that’s sweet.” She blushed, taking a bite of it before taking a sip of her chai latte. Now that she had stuff to fiddle around with she could take a breather and not have to worry about filling space. “But um.. did interrupt something? Don’t want to distract you...” Y/N nodded over to his laptop, secretly hoping that he wasn’t up to much so that she could chat to him. She just wanted to know the basics, literally anything would satisfy her craving. Harry was quite literally her wet dream, she’d been looking all around campus for someone like him to come around. “I uh... I think I’m also in your English lit class? I feel like I see you around often.” Y/N spoke, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “What’s your major?” She felt like this conversation was light, something that would eventually lead into other things like... if he was single and looking for a girlfriend.

“Oh, you’re not bugging me. I’ve kind of been staring at the screen and zoning out if m’honest.” Harry chuckled, embarrassed a little to admit it. But everyone could relate to that, right? “And yeah... actually I think so.” He smiled lightly before taking a sip of his drink. Victory! She had noticed him too. He wasn’t the lonely creep who stared at the first who had no idea who he was. She knew who he was, kind of. He gently drew his sweater over his hands like little paws before going to her question. “English. I want to write and stuff, edit maybe. My dad has a publishing company so, I’m lucky I like a bit of the family business.” He tried to joke, looking at her. God. It was unnerving how beautiful and also, how fucking comfortable she was to be around. What a contrast. “And you? What major?” He took a nibble of his scone, not wanting to make a mess.

English? He’s a writer? Goodness. She was going to lose it.

“That’s cool, any specific genre you like to write?” Y/N asked curiously because well, it would actually tell her a lot about him and the kind of person he was. “I picture some mystery or possibly poetry, could go either way.” She said and squinted her eyes as she looked at him, pretending to size him up. “I can’t say I’m all that interesting, a psych major. Just like every other artsy person who doesn’t exactly want to commit to an art degree.” Y/N chuckled, “still deciding between criminal justice or counseling but... either way I’d be happy to get to pick someone’s brain. She did have the habit of analyzing people but only so she could understand them better. Y/N knew that all people wanted at the core was to be understood and loved for who they are, for the most part. Harry seemed reserved, calm and relaxed, secure in himself that’s for sure. It was extremely attractive.

“Oh? That’s really cool though.” Harry was genuinely interested in what she had to say either way. The major didn’t matter in his interest in her but it gave him information and something to talk about. If she was marketing or math he would be just as interested. “Criminal seems particularly interesting. Like that criminal minds show then? You’ll learn how they work and all of that?” He didn’t really know what it meant or why she had chosen it. “But close. I write romance novels.” He blushed fully. “Don’t judge me for it. But s’easy for me and I’m good at it, or so I’ve been told. I’ve been writing for a while.” He felt himself loosen up as they talked. Even if she intimidated him, she was really nice and sweet. “Poetry too, lots of it. But romance is my main thing, I’d like to do novels and that sort of stuff.” He could see she didn’t think it was lame, rather interesting. Which was a major relief. He wanted to impress her, so so badly.

“Sorta, yeah. Like... being able to predict a criminal's next move, psychologically.” Y/N explained and shrugged, “feel like it’s really fun and interesting but terrifying all at once. Dunno if I could actually interview a criminal without feeling like it was going to cry.” She let out a laugh, knowing she was quite soft. Her face lit up when he said he wrote romance novels. Wow. Well, as if he wasn’t a character right out of a romcom himself! She felt like that’s what this was. A romcom. Bumping into him at a coffee shop like a scene straight from one. “Really?! So you’re a proper romantic then? Buy the last cake pop for every girl, hmm?” She gave him a bashful smile. The very last thing she was doing was judge, she was more so thinking about their wedding. Yep. Already. Daydreaming because she swore she’d hit the jackpot. Wasn’t even sure if he liked her yet, but she was hopeful. After all, she’d turned on her charm.

“I guess I am.” Harry smirked to himself slightly at the good reception. Damn. He had been so worried and hesitant- he should have just talked to her. She wasn’t... that scary. Only a little bit.

He let her talk a bit more about her degree and Harry went on to speak about his favorite authors, and then the conversation shifted towards their classes and how he had been struggling slightly in psych— which led to her offering to help. Harry was shocked because honestly he hadn’t expected it from her, but he was pleased. He was happy to have an excuse to hang out with her more. See more of her and be able to teach himself to relax properly around her. He felt like a damn wind up toy, giddy and excited.

“That would be so helpful, if you could. And if you don’t mind.” He stressed. “I have a place off campus, if you’d want to go there? I’ll buy you some pizza or something for your help.” He was a giver and if it meant getting a $20 pizza for her because he wanted good quality, then he would!

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Y/N was practically jumping up and down with joy in her mind, this was a turn of events. She went from secretly crushing on him to being invited over his house in only a few hours. “I can never say no to pizza, but it’s really no problem. They say if you can teach it to someone else then you truly understand it so it’ll be a good test for me. Y/N also knew that they wouldn’t just study. Come on. It was a Friday night and study was practically code for hook up, especially considering he had invited her to his place and not the library. She had to prepare, had to make sure she looked cute and everything. She’d shower before hand too, the whole nine. “I can be there around 6?” Y/N suggested, checking her calendar app even though she already knew when she could come. She had to at least look like she wasn’t jumping at the idea.

“That’s cool. Uh— here, if you want I can put my number in your phone and whenever you want I can text you the address?” Oh, fuck. How, how the tables have turned. He had gone from wistfully staring at her every day to having a scheduled study session with her, the girl he’d been practically having wet dreams about. Having a full conversation and then her having his number! He was giddy and playing with the sleeves of his sweater as a result of the excited nerves. “Do you have any allergies? I do have a kitten at home.” He wanted to make sure he wouldn’t have to put Marie away. He loved his baby but he wanted to try something and see if she would be cool with him in a private setting. It would be less hard to talk about deeper things without people around. He took her phone from her and typed in his number, adding his name with a little 📚 after it. That wasn’t too much, right?

“Aw you do! I have one too, well... he thinks he’s a big boy.” Y/N shook her head at the thought of her sweet little Milo. Despite not doing anything she planned to do at the coffee shop, it still felt like a productive day in her eyes. Finally getting to chat with Harry felt like a breath of fresh air and he wasn’t all that scary now that she got to chatting with him. She took her phone back and smiled at the cute little emoji, sending him a text to let him know it was her before hesitantly getting up. “Alright well, I gotta get back to my kitten... but, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/N smiled, watching him stand up as well. The two of them walked out of the coffee shop and to their cars, Y/N being bold enough to give him a hug before opening her car door. “Night!” She was surprised with herself. Y/N was proud, completely over the moon and honestly she wasn’t sure how she was going to sleep tonight.

-----

Harry laid out on the bed that night with Marie on his chest. He had told her all about how the pretty Y/N had met him and that she would be coming over. The pretty cat was a long haired white kitty, and she purred along with Harry as he spoke. She liked hearing Harry be happy. It made him want to squeak when he heard his phone buzz and a little text from her popped up— he saved her as ‘Y/N 🌼’ because he felt like it fit. Part of him wanted to put a heart but he would be mortified if she saw and thought it was weird. She wore a yellow flower shirt one day so he figured that’s what he could excuse it as.

‘Hey, happy to hear from you! :) I hope your kitty is doing well. I meant to ask, you aren’t vegetarian are you?’

Y/N smiled at his text and attached a photo of her gray kitten laying across the top of her head while she laid down.

‘Yes, he’s quite cozy.’

‘I am actually! But I’m not too fussy.’

She couldn’t help it, she loved animals and she couldn’t bring herself to do it anymore. Occasionally, she would indulge in a chicken nugget or seafood, but for the most part she didn’t feel like she had to.

‘I’m going to get some sleep though, Good night Harry 💓’

That wasn’t too much was it? It was just a heart! She sent them to everyone. Y/N stayed up for a good ten minutes just digesting the day. Tomorrow would be even better, she had a feeling.

——

Harry was... well, he wasn’t sure how to describe the emotion. When Niall inevitably quizzed him on why he was acting strange, the best he had come up with was a mix of nerves and giddiness, also terror and extreme happiness. He was going to hang out with the girl he had been silently crushing on— and they had been texting quite frequently in the short time they had each other’s numbers. Was this going to be a regular thing? Was it going to blossom into more? He knew that he had wasted time before, not talking to her. She wasn’t scary! No... she was so sweet and kind and beautiful and everything she said made him a literal heart eye emoji. She had taken to sending him random photos, even so quickly in and it felt comfortable. He had even sent her a shot of Marie on the counter this morning, on top of his school notes. It was odd. The excitement he felt when he heard the bing from his phone of the vibration in his pocket... it was incredible. He liked this feeling. Damn it. This was such a new thing. He wanted to do more.

He saw her in class, watching as she crept in a bit after the last call should be with a sheepish smile on her face. He waved to her silently and watched her climb up, his heart beating quicker when she chose a seat closer to his than before. She wanted to sit near him? He clutched the rainbow patchwork sweater by the sleeves and fiddled with the cuffs, nerves and excitement swirling in his tummy.

If class wasn’t already on, Y/N knew she would have tried to spark up some conversation with Harry, but for now all she could manage was passing him a note.

‘I like your cardigan :)’

It was really cute. Most of Harry’s wardrobe was and in her dream world she already stole a few to wear. English literature wasn’t exactly the most exciting class, but Harry seemed invested. Y/N enjoyed watching him focus and take notes while she mostly doodled some random flowers and bears in her notebook. Her mind was thinking about what she was going to wear to his house and how she definitely needed a shower before and that she had to put on the lotion that matched her perfume. Was she overthinking this? Maybe. Of course it was just a study date, but you could never be too sure where things could go. And if they did— she wanted to be ready.

He knew that he needed to contain himself but his smile made it hard. She liked his cardigan. The random compliment had him feeling mushy and happy and there was definitely a blush on his cheeks as he clicked his pen and wrote back to her.

‘Thanks :) my nan knitted it for me. I like your little head band.’

He passed it back before opening his notebook back up. Her stare could be felt and he wanted to smirk a little at it because, well, who wouldn’t? She was so great, and he wanted to experience more of her but he was trying to not rush shit. He was a romance writer after all. All of it felt so in tune with his own wants and he had a hard time believing it was real. Sweet little Y/N wanted to hang out with him and she complimented his cardigan!

‘Awe!! That’s cute and thank youuuu 🥰’

She drew him a little smiley face with hearts around it, felt like it was very on brand for her and her emotive texting. Y/N felt all giddy because she had made a new friend but she was really hoping they wouldn’t just be friends.

Y/N knew she was hard to read because she was generally nice to everyone and honestly, Harry seemed to be the same way. She could only assume he liked her because he asked her to hang out so quickly. And he’d bought her a cake pop and was planning on buying pizza tonight. Was it a date then? Gosh, she needed to stop reading into it. Her leg kept bouncing up and down, mind trying to refocus and thankfully, their professor was discussing something she too had noticed in her reading. She still managed to steal quick glances at Harry for the rest of the class, giving him shy little smiles. It wasn’t till class ended that she ended up speaking to him, but even that was quick. She needed to get home and get ready.

Harry had gotten a quick hi, and a ‘see you tonight!’ With her hand brushing his arm before she skipped off to.. wherever she went. And that had him nearly sprinting home. Cleaning top to bottom, vacuum, scrub, vacuum again. Changed his sheets— why, he wasn’t sure— put his laundry in the basket, filled up Marie’s food and water, fluffed the pillows, cleaned the windows and coffee table... he did it all. Even cleaned out the fridge! Like she would care? Harry didn’t know. All he did know was that he was finally showered and smelled nice, hair fixed and the pumpkin patch candle was lit! The tv was on low because he was nervous and needed some filler noise to keep himself from overthinking.

Y/N was doing the same, not cleaning her apartment but cleaning herself. She stripped out of her clothes when she got home and immediately got into the shower, taking one of those full maintenance ones for good measure. Once she was positive she was squeaky clean and smelled nice, she jumped out to take the next steps. God, she really wanted to impress him. He’d been her crush for a while and she needed this. She wanted to look like she didn’t put in my effort when she did so she decided to put on some light makeup and chose an outfit that was more laid back. Usually, she was seen wearing sweaters and jeans, nothing too fancy, so that’s exactly what she settled on. Y/N wanted to look warm and inviting.

Milo mewed beneath her feet as she collected all her study supplies, rubbing against her ankles in need of attention. “I’m sorry bubs, I know I didn’t get to spend lots of time with you today but don’t be too mad.” Y/N pouted, picking him up and giving him a cuddle for a few minutes. She held him up to her chest as she finished up, deciding she needed to leave now.

‘Leaving now, be there in 20 ✨’

She sent, hopping into her car with nerves bubbling up in her stomach. God, she really hoped tonight went well.

——

When Harry heard the knock at the door he shot up, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants before forcing himself to be slow, walking to the door. And when he opened it, it really did feel like being hit in the gut. Seeing someone so beautiful, so up close? It got to him. He had to admit that. Y/N has this natural beauty that he drooled over. That felt like a hit. Every time he saw her he swore she got more beautiful.

“Hi.” He spoke with a smile, opening the door up for her. “Come inside. Marie is wandering around so I have to close the door. A little escape artist, she is.” He joked, letting her scurry in and close the door behind her.

“Hey! Oop— okay!” Y/N giggled and stepped past him into his apartment. It was very cute and very tidy. Y/N felt a little flutter in her belly, it was freshly cleaned. She stepped out of her shoes before further examining the decor. The style was something she very much expected for Harry, it was cozy and artsy. Lots of earth tones and that sweet autumn smell coming from the candle made her feel that much more excited. “It’s so nice in here! I love the pillows.” Y/N complimented, liking how some were fluffy and some had funky patterns on them. It was then that she heard a meow from below, Marie sniffing at her sock covered toes. “Oh hi there... sorry if you can smell Milo on me, gave me lots of snuggles before I left.” Y/N cooed down to the kitten, dropping down so she was closer to the ground and extended her hand for her to sniff and get used to.

Y/N realized this was very real now, especially because he had gone out of his way to make his place look nice. Most guys wouldn’t care, but maybe Harry did this for everyone. When she stood back up and turned to face him, she got a whiff of him and noticed his semi damp hair. He showered too. Oh—

Harry smiled at her and Marie, happy his kitten seemed to like her. Usually she would sniff his friends and run off but she began to weave over her legs and beg for pets. He was in awe. Christ. She had him by the balls already.

“Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got diet soda... apple juice, lots of teas. And water.” He hummed, going into the kitchen with her behind him. It was an open concept though, the kitchen the first thing near the door and it opened into a large living area, the hall down going to the master bedroom. It was simple but perfect for him in college. He gave her a moment to think it over as he looked at her. So cozy and... cuddly. He wanted to slide his hands under her sweater and feel her warm skin and nuzzle into the crook of her neck, let her fingers play through his hair.

“Apple juice sounds good.” Y/N smiled, having picked up Marie at this point to carry her into the kitchen with them. She had a feeling she’d get along just great with Milo if they ever got to meet. “You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” Y/N cooed at the kitten, seeing her comfortably settled against her. “Does your Daddy spoil you with snuggles too?” She asked toying with her little paw before looking up at Harry with a smile. He had fumbled a bit with the lid of the juice at her words which made her giggle, “How are you? How was your day today?” Y/N was genuinely curious, deciding to make some small talk before actually sitting down. In her head she could already imagine the two of them hanging out here constantly, tangled up in one another, kissing and laughing and doing all the cute things that Harry likely wrote about in his stories.

“I’m— im good.” Harry’s mouth was dry. He knew that she hadn’t meant anything by it, but he heard her say ‘daddy’ in reference to him, and his stupid cock had jumped, tummy felt hot. Damn it. He wished he wasn’t so deprived but... she had been at the forefront of his mind. “It was a good day. I was happy to talk to you. You’re fun to talk to.” He meant it too. She was so interesting and funny and he was completely whipped and okay with it. Damn. He wished he had maybe a bit more restraint with his imagination but he didn’t. Not at all. “I have a harder time meeting people... i can be a little shy sometimes. I’m in my own head a lot you know? I have my core group of friends but... it’s hard to get to know people. I want to know them.” Her. That translates to her.

“Yeah?” Y/N felt her heart jump. He was happy to speak with her even just a little bit? He wanted to talk to her and get to know her? It wasn’t just a one sided thing. They were both making an effort in their own way and she was thinking someone had to break the tension. “I’m happy you think so.” Y/N blushed, “I um... I also like talking to you.” She had her little friend group as well but she never thought she’d actually end up being friends with Harry. Listening to him explain how reserved he was definitely made her feel special though. He chose to open up to her, she was special enough for that and that made her cheeks grow warm once again. “I’ll tell you just about anything you want to know.” Y/N smiled, hesitantly placing Marie down before taking a few steps closer to him to get her glass of apple juice.

“Ooooh, a little daunting. Anything? Your social security number?” Harry was joking. Trying to clear the air and make her relax because she was a bit shy too and he wanted her to be comfortable here. This place should be a good spot for her. He motioned for her to come sit on the couch with him, Marie trailing after Y/N. Little traitor had a new favorite already but... he couldn’t say he could blame her. “I dunno... it’s hard sometimes, in this age to make genuine friendships. Feels like everyone’s already got their friend groups and you don’t want to infringe upon them yeah? And... I write a lot. I’m not a partier. Not to sound cliche but again.... I’m a writer.” He chuckled.

“I said just about!” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head to herself at his joke. She felt like she was an open book, she was pretty open with the things she liked and generally she aimed to spread positivity and love where she could. Her hobbies included lots of things, music, knitting, reading, gardening. That kind of stuff. “But yeah, I get that... I’ve been pretty content with my group of friends, though I think most people are open to making new ones. At least I am... I am a bit shy though.” Y/N took a sip of her apple juice before setting it down on the coffee table again. “Yeah, you said. Romance novels.” She smiled and leaned back into the couch, getting comfortable. “What sorts of romance novels?” What? Could you blame her for wanting to know what sort of content was in them? Maybe it could give her some insight on what he wanted.

“Oooooh. Hard hitting stuff.” Harry huffed out playfully. “I’m... it’s a variety, I think. I’ve done supernatural, classic tropes, historical romance was very fun. I am partial to enemies to lovers or forbidden romances though. They’re the most fun to write.” Y/N genuinely looked like she cared so he continued. “I’ve been trying out different stuff but....” he blushed again. “I’m... looking at erotica right now.” It wasn’t something he usually would blurt out but hey, she seemed trustworthy. Plus she didn’t seem like she would judge either. It was a new favorite of his. The rawness of it and writing sex scenes... it was amazing. Reading it, writing it, he thought he could do some on the side and sell it under a pen name. It would be a fun thing to try.

Erotica. This man sat down and wrote detailed sex scenes, likely kinky, for fun? Thankfully she didn’t have any juice in her mouth because it surely would have been spat out.

“H-how are you finding it?” She asked, reaching for her apple juice because she felt like she couldn’t sit still now. How else was she supposed to go about things when all she could think about was sex. Sex with him specifically. Y/N wasn’t blind, she knew that Harry was very attractive and very much gifted with beautiful hands. She could only assume he would have a wonderful cock as well. She knew there was no way someone so quite couldn’t have the filthiest of minds, she knew hers was. Her fantasies were where she roamed free.

“I mean... I do like it a lot, actually. I hope that doesn’t come across as creepy or pervy but I like to be able to write something like that. It’s freeing, in a sense.” Harry couldn’t really properly describe why but, he was a kinky dude. You’d never think it. He was soft and wore sweaters a lot and drank tea at home from a kitty mug but he was.... a kinky fucker. And he loved sex. There was just something about it. He wanted to try more and more of it but he had a tendency to get attached to his partners, even hook ups... so he had put that on a hault.

“I’d like to read some...” Y/N felt like at some point, she’d want to read his writing. If he felt comfortable now she didn’t mind. It was just writing, wasn’t it?

“You want to?” She looked at him with bright eyes and her a fast nod so Harry decided to say, fuck it. If they were going to work as friends... or lovers, which is what Harry really wanted... she would need to accept this side. He grabbed his laptop and boosted it on, letting himself grab the latest completed scene. “Here. You can read this, i'll order the pizza.” There were obvious nerves in his belly from letting her read filthy smut from his computer but Y/N... she was different. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but she was.

They were meant to be studying.

That was long forgotten though as Y/N nodded and got comfortable on the couch with his laptop sat in her lap. It felt a bit taboo, but she figured she could separate the writer from the story.

The scene was from a male character’s perspective, describing him having a long and hard day at work where all he could think about was his partner. Y/N felt her face get progressively warmer as the character spoke about his partner, she couldn’t help but imagine this was how Harry was when he was horny and needy.

Y/N knew that if she was his, she would certainly brighten up his mood after a tough day at work. Seeing her own name in the document however proved that Harry thought the same. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head, her eyes lifting from the screen to look up at him as he ordered the pizza completely unaware of her discovery.

This is what he imagined? This is what he wanted to do.... with her?

Harry ordered two cheese pizzas and some cinnamon dessert thing because there was a a special going on. He had thought about getting more but he didn’t want to go overboard with it, so he finished the order. Thank god for online ordering.

“Okay... it’ll be here in 25 minutes I think.” He hummed, looking up and freezing slightly. She looked blushy and her eyes wide as she read the post and he wondered why she looked a bit startled. “Hey... y’alright love?” He asked quietly. God damn it. Had he freaked her out too much? Was it just too much in general for the first time they properly hung out? He couldn’t remember exactly what scene he had pulled up. Just that it was recent, a billionaire type of thing.

Y/N casually moved the laptop on to the coffee table without answering his question. She didn’t think twice before she climbed on to his lap, hands settling on his shoulders. Sure, it was a risky move, but after what she’d read? She felt like she had to make her move. She wanted to be just as hot and sexy as he had imagined her to be. Harry’s shocked expression made her smile, hand going up to cup his cheek.

“You left my name in the document...” Y/N’s voice spoke low and slow, thumb brushing over his now parted lips. Never did she think she could be so bold so soon, but fuck did it feel good. She felt so powerful, so sexy, and so so horny. “Thought about me riding your cock so much you wrote about it?” Y/N whispered, leaning in to kiss the skin just below his ear before nibbling at the skin. “Noticed me before we properly met... thought about me... is this what you wanted, baby?”

Harry blanked.

Oh. fuck.

He hadn’t expected her to climb into his lap. Climbing on and straddling him, cupping his cheek, talking in that hot little voice that had his cock filling a bit. Holy fucking shit.

“Oh—” He was cut off by her thumb over her lip. She was into it, into him. How had this happened? He had to be dreaming. But... no. Her heat was too real to be a dream. Her eyes too clear and dark, her smell too real. It was real. “Y-yeah...” He whispered, gasping when she kissed his skin, hand grabbing her waist. Oh, hell. Under his pants, his cock was quickly hardening. You couldn’t blame him, his dream woman, his crush, was straddling his lap and kissing his neck. Talking like this.

“Thought about it ‘lots.” He muttered. She was so bold for this and that was something he found so sexy. When her teeth scraped his skin and bit down a bit harder, a dark groan left his mouth, hand on her waist tightening. “Holy shit... Y/N.”

“Hmm... feels good?” Y/N questioned, licking over the spot that she bit before moving to a new one. “Think I can make you cum in 25 minutes?” Y/N felt like she could take on the challenge, his cock was already hardening beneath her and she was a bit of foreplay away from being completely soaked. “Wanna try all of it, yeah?” Y/N muttered, nipping at the spot just where his jawline met his neck. “Riding your cock.... you bending me over, can choke me too. Please do...” She moaned at the thought, her hormones completely taking over. He still seemed to be frozen, despite his hand now on her waist so she moved her hips forward a little bit and tugged at his hair. “Wanna make you feel good.”

Y/N had a kink for giving but it seemed Harry did as well. She expected a needy hook up, rough touches, quickness, pure lust. It’s exactly what she needed. It’s been a while since she’d hooked up with anyone and she was desperate for Harry to break her dry spell.

“Ah, shit.” Harry hissed. The tug at his hair sent a shock of hot arousal down his spine. That got him going so quickly. She wanted to fuck? Right now? He would be a fool to say no, and he wasn’t raised a fool. “Yeah? Y’want to ride my cock?” He asked lowly. “Fucks sake... I didn’t know you were so dirty.” He never would have guessed it from her either but... they were here. And he was snapped out of his shock by the tug, and now he was ready to do whatever the fuck she let him. “What did y’want the most, love? Tell me.” He had taken into account that she wanted to be choked, raising a hand to gently cuff her throat, bringing her close to his face. The confidence was soaring now, and all because she was leaking it. She wanted it, desperately. “I said, tell me.” He gave a quick squeeze to her throat. “Want to know what you need.”

“Need your cock, daddy.” Y/N moaned out, eyes blown and glazed over with desire. Y/N could feel the tension in her bones, cunt throbbing and aching to be touched. “Need you so bad, please— wanted you for so long, please make me cum, please!” She pleaded, fully giving into the fantasy. Y/N was never one to hold back and from what she had read, he certainly didn’t want her to. Her body felt like it was on fire, hands grabbing fist fulls of his sweater in hopes that he’d just take it off. Y/N wasn’t sure what type of body would be beneath it, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to feel his warm skin, lick and kiss all that she could while she worked her magic. Y/N waited for his directions, falling into the submissive role easily despite her initial approach. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’re gonna have to re-write that scene.”

Harry was going to give this girl any fucking thing she wanted. He let her guide his sweater off, the cool air hitting his skin not even getting a chance because her hands and mouth were all over him. It was like she had fallen into a heat, and Harry.... he loved it. He placed his hands under her sweater, feeling her hands smooth over his chest as she kissed at his neck and over his jaw. Her skin was hot under the sweater, his hands gripping her waist and smoothing over her hips, going up and sip to her ribs where he realized— fuck.

“Not wearing a fucking bra?” He hissed. “Jesus... you’re a little minx, aren’t you? Off with this.” He spoke lowly, grabbing the ends of it but barely had a shot before Y/N ripped it off of her body. Fucks sake. She was sexier than he had ever imagined. “My god... you’re so sexy, baby.” He whispered, sitting up and burying his face between her breasts. Kissing the hot skin between them, working his way up with the wet, open mouthed kisses to her throat.

“Oh Daddy...” Y/N’s body shuddered at the feeling of his mouth on her, head falling back as she let out a happy sigh. He seemed to like her hand in his hair so she happily gripped at his locks as he scattered kisses over her skin. “Come ‘ere...” She whined, guiding him up to her lips. “Wanna taste your mouth.” Making eye contact with him in this moment felt intimate. All those quick glances in classes and at the coffee shop, all the day dreaming, it all built up to this moment where she fully felt she could let herself let go. The both of them wanted this, it was so reassuring, this was a safe space and they could do whatever they wanted. Y/N’s body rolled forward, pushing him further back onto the couch and angling her hips so she could tease the both of them before she let herself have it. Fuck was he hard... and full. Another moan left her lips, sounding more like a plea and cry for more.

“Fuck me... you’re needy. I love it.” Harry hissed, pulling her mouth to his. It wasn’t soft. No, this kiss... it was hot. Heavy. Her mouth opened and immediately he dragged his tongue inside, meeting hers. She tasted like the apple juice and a bit of mint, and he could groan just from how good it was. Sweet little Y/N wasn’t too innocent at all. “Fuck— keep teasing me like that. S’like you want to end up crying.” He had a feeling now that she did. She wanted his cock inside of her pussy, thrusting in and out and letting herself soak him. Yeah... he wanted it too. “Keep calling me daddy. You’re so dirty. Who would have fucking... known.” He spoke between the kisses, hands going for her jeans. He wanted them off, like hours ago. He was finally going to get her. “M’gonna lay you out in my bed after... first m’gonna fuck you, but M’gonna clean out your cunt with my tongue. And then M’gonna take you again. Yeah?” She has come for studying but was staying for hot sex and he hoped to turn it into a nice marathon. He had all weekend and he was hoping she wouldn’t have to go. He had too many idea for her. “Gonna let daddy lick it up?”

“Fuck— yes, gonna let daddy have his way with me...” She kept her hips rolling against his slowly, keeping the rhythm in check with the passionate kiss they were sharing. Y/N already knew this was going to be the best sex of her life, the kiss alone let her know that. His tongue would work wonders on her cunt and she’d be more than happy to return the favor. Hesitantly, Y/N began to stand to get her jeans off, one of her hands staying put on the back of his neck so the kiss didn’t break. She let him fiddle with the zipper, feeling his fingers hook both her jeans and underwear before yanking them down to which Y/N let out a little squeal.

Y/N knew she had to pull away from the kiss for air but she didn’t want to, waiting till the very last minute until she couldn’t anymore and went to get his jeans off.

“Come on. Be good.” He murmured against her lips, brushing his hips up so she could get his pants off. She tugged and easily they came down, Harry kicking them off as he pulled her back in his lap. His hands gripped her bare ass and groaned when she pushed into them, not thinking twice before pulling his hand back and smacking it the sound rang in the room and she let out the most sexy noise against his mouth, making him hiss. Fuck. He wanted her so fucking badly. This girl... she was everything. One hand went to feel and fuck. Fuck shit, motherfuck, it was wet. She was so, wet. “Jesus— you’re so wet. Baby— holy shit, you’re soaked.” He whispered. “S’cause of me? You wanted daddy’s cock this bad?” He pulled his fingers off slightly, the arousal still stringing to his fingers. He placed them at her mouth and pushed them in. “That’s it. Clean them up, sweet girl. You’re so filthy, y’know that? Precious little thing. So slick and hot, want cock so fucking bad don’t you?” He cooed, feeling her suck on the digits. “Now.... rub it against your pussy. Don’t put it in yet. get it wet.”

Y/N sucked at his fingers as if it were her job, making sure to treat it like she would his cock which included eye contact. She loved looking at him, seeing his hungry expression and his eyes that seemed to say so much more than he did. Even the feeling of her cunt sliding over his cock sent tingles up her spine. It had never affected her this much with other guys, but she assumed it was different with Harry because she had wanted him for so long. Y/N let out a whimper, feeling a gush of wetness accumulate when he pushed his fingers in farther. Harry was hot in ways she couldn’t explain, there were little things he did that just hit the spot and made her want to fuck him even harder. Y/N was practically bouncing on his cock, aching for him to let her have it inside.

“You’re such a good girl. Listening so fucking well.” Harry took his fingers from her mouth, smirking at the whine and slight chasing of his fingers when he placed it on her breast. She gave it all to him and honestly, he was ready to just... lose it. “Go ahead. Take what you want.” It was not even a moment later that he felt her begin to sink down. She was tight— so damn tight, and he choked slightly at just how good the squeeze was. He let out a hiss, head thrown back in the couch as the slick, hit cunt sucked over him, squeezing hard as she stretched open slowly. “Holy fuck.” He growled, gripping both hips now and looking at her with a darkness in his eyes. “You’re so bloody tight— Christ, you’re squeezin’ me so good.” He whispered.

“Daddy!” She whimpered as she slid farther down on his cock until she couldn’t fit anymore of him in. “I’m so full— feels so good.” Her eyes rolled back a bit as she began to bounce at a slowed rhythm. Small moans and little huffs came from her throat with every stroke of her hips, it wasn’t until she felt warmed up that she actually went for it. Y/N shifted so that she had better balance, keeping her hands on his shoulders before dropping back down on his cock. “Fuck!” She squeaked, making sure to clench one her way back up before repeating the action at a quicker pace. It felt incredible. He was touching every little part of her, feeling small waves of pleasure spread throughout her body. “Daddy! Fuck— feels so good ahhh!” Her moans were pornographic, whiny, desperate and needy. She didn’t even know she could sound like that, but apparently it was possible when she was as thirsty for cock as she was.

Never would he have guessed that this would be the outcome of their hang out. He had hoped, sure. Dreamed? Absolutely. But the reality was so much better. He had the hot, wet and extremely tight pussy gliding up and down his cock. She was moaning, tits bouncing in his face, and she was vocal. More than he could have asked for. The infatuation he had with her was only growing.

“Fuck, you’re a good girl. Such a perfect little cunt. Like bouncing on my cock, hm? Knew you’d be the perfect girl for me. Keep going.” His hand squeezed her ass, encouraging her to work herself on him. “Feels so full, yeah? Such a big cock filling such a little pussy. A nice stretch for you hm? So eager to be filled up...” her face was of pure bliss and Harry couldn’t help but take a mental photo. He hoped this could happen more than this once. “Knew you’d be good for me. Throwin’ yourself in my lap and begging to be fucked. Never guessed you’d be such a little slut, but I love it.” He took his hand, bringing it down sharply on her ass.

“Fuck!” Y/N gasped, her own hand moving to cuff his neck. It wasn’t as effective as him doing it to her, but it got the point across. The both of them grabbing at each other roughly, him thrusting up into her each time she slammed down. It could only be described as pure ecstasy, surely the hottest sex she had ever had. She needed him, she needed him to cum. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from leaning down to kiss his mouth again, making a mess of the two of them. “You’re so fucking good— love your cock, daddy... fucking love it!” She moaned between kisses, increasing her pace just enough so she could fuck him hard and steady. “I want you to cum for me daddy, wanna feel it nice and deep.” Thank fuck for IUDs. “Want you to fill me up while I cum all over your cock, can you do that for me? Can you cum with me?”

He was panting, lowering himself so he could properly thrust into her sopping cunt. He hadn’t gotten any in so long but this blew any and everyone out of the water. No one could ever understand how good this was. All the pining and imagining had come to an even better conclusion.

“I’ll do it... but you... gotta promise me.” He growled, giving a particularly sharp thrust inside of her, making her wail. “Promise me I can do it again. Let me have this pussy more.” He didn’t want it to end if it was the only time he could get it. It was too good to let go of. Drooling all over his cock and her soft whimpers and dirty words had him more worked up than anything else. “Promise, baby, and I’ll let you have my cum.”

“Promise— I promise— fuck!” She felt her breath get caught in her throat at the particularly hard thrusts Harry was giving her. “Please Daddy, please give it to me.” Y/N whimpered, moving her hands so they cupped his cheeks, keeping eye contact with him as they continued to relentlessly thrust into each other. There was nothing more satisfying, nothing that managed to hit every part of her both physically and spiritually and made her feel so alive. When you’ve wanted something for so long it makes getting it that much better and she knew that she’d always be chasing this high that only he could give her. “I’m so close, fuck, daddy—“ She mumbled between kisses, squeezing around him and continuing at her pace to bring herself to the perfect high. “Cum with me daddy, please— ah!”

Harry would work on his stamina next round. But after the whole thing, he was close to losing his mind. She was giving him the most tempting offer and he wasn’t going to give it up.

“Oh— fuck me.” He thrusted in again and again before he let himself go. Feeling her clench up around him and sob against his mouth, he let out a deep growl as he buried himself deep. Hot cum shooting inside of her cunt, rocking his hips in to get it all in there. There was no doubt that this was some of the most intense sex of his life but he was almost ready to go again, as soon as it ended. Holding her shivering form, her orgasm was tapering, he could feel her clenching still. “That’s it. Take all of it inside of you. Good girl.”

Y/N gripped Harry’s shoulders, loud screams of pleasure coming straight from her throat. There were no words to describe the high, she almost felt out of her own body as he showered her with praise. With her body shaking and face contorting with a silent scream, she found it in her to come back down letting out a pathetic whimper.

“Daddy—” She swallowed thickly, mouth finding his messily, pressing kisses to his lips and his face. The two of them were both lightly covered in sweat, breathing heavily and enjoying each other’s company. Y/N was far too blissed out to think about what just happened, but blissed out enough to know there would be many more rounds of this tonight. Y/N smiled as she nuzzled against his neck, still sponging kissing to his dampened skin. “Better?” She mumbled, smirking against his skin a bit.

“Mm.” He hummed, hands holding her hips still. Holy hell. This was the beginning of an amazing weekend- because he didn’t plan on letting her out at all, if he could help it’ he wanted her to stay, to let him indulge in her. “So fucking good.” He muttered lowly, rubbing his hand up her back and smoothing over her skin. Fucks sake. This was paradise. Nothing could pop him out of this.

At least, that was until the doorbell rang.

“Ah, fuck. The pizza.”

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masterlist

#writing #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #college!harry #harry writing #college!h

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

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a weird-but-funky-fresh question, but do you have any books you’d recommend pertaining to serial killers, captors, and their survivors? from a psychological aspect, I mean. I’m not quite sure I’m phrasing this right 😅 but like, any media pertaining to these subjects that have helped you in your writing endeavors, maybe?

Books that have helped me a lot with the darker aspects of whump and writing killers/crime... this is by no means an exhaustive list! Just one I threw together using my current bookshelf:

The Cold Vanish by Jon Billman (technically about people who go missing in wild places/national parks, but it's a great book as much for the travel memoir aspects as for the throughline of misssing people and their families)

Last Call by Elon Green, a book about a serial killer targeting largely closeted gay men in 1980's NYC at the beginning of the recognition of HIV/AIDS

Losing Jon by David Parrish, about a young man who died "by suicide", except that it turns out the local police were covering up the true circumstances of his death

American Serial Killers by Peter Vronsky, part of a collection of his books detailing serial killers. This one specifically focuses on what he calls the "golden age" of serial killers in the United States, from 1950 - 2000. His thoughts on the potential reasons for the uptick in killings and then the downturn later on are really interesting.

Blood Will Out by Walter Kirn, part true crime story, part memoir, entirely chilling. I would compare this to a book I read back in high school but haven't ever picked up again in some ways, a book called The Last Victim by the late Jason Moss. Both involve burgeoning, aspiring writers who find themselves influenced by killers. Both of these books had profound effects on me.

The Man From the Train by Bill James. This book - on how a series of unrelated but incredibly similar killings perpetrated over years across the United States may in fact have been the work of a single solitary serial killer who utilized the new railroad system to operate with impunity - has its detractors, but I think the case it makes it pretty compelling, and it's excellent true crime writing in and of itself.

Sons of Cain by Peter Vronsky is potentially my favorite true crime book that isn't about a single event or story. This book breaks down serial killers from prehistoric times to the general modern day, and it's a fascinating look at how a certain kind of mindset may have been an advantage, once upon a time, only to become a horror to us now. Highly recommend.

The Witches by Stacy Schiff, a telling of the Salem Witch Trials, which if you think about it really were a series of murders committed for largely social and economic reasons. It's a great book, and I love it. I think it's really useful for looking at how people turn on each other. How feeling unheard and unseen can turn you into a monster. How young girls took the only power they felt able to.

In Cold Blood by Truman Capote is of course a classic in the true crime genre and it isn't specifically about serial killers per se, but I think you should always always include it in a list of recs. This book made and, I believe, broke Capote. He invented the true crime genre as we recognize it today even as the story he told tore him apart.

Mindhunter by John E. Douglas, who interviewed serial killers. It's about how the FBI more or less began to profile serial killers to try and get an understanding of who might kill next. Also, in my opinion, a classic. Good for getting into the mindset of killers, but also distant enough that you don't feel so overwhelmed by it.

I'll Be Gone in the Dark by Michelle McNamara. The late McNamara's book was published posthumously and shortly before the Golden State Killer was caught, decades later, thanks to DNA. Her story is as much about how getting into a particular true crime story can start to wear at your own sanity and security as it is about the crimes themselves, but it's even more about... the victims and survivors. And as such, I adore it.

#book recs #reading recommendations #book recommendations #writing #whump writing #serial killers #true crime #true crime recs

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emotions-ew · 3 years

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A Collection of Queer Country Artists and Songs for anyone who doesn’t feel like there’s country music they can relate to...

There is this idea that country music is like just Republican men singing about beer, and trucks and also Jesus, and that is kind of fair because loads of it is but there are some cool as hell queer/lgbtq+ country artists. Finding those and finding that representation in a genre of music I was literally raised on kind of changed my life in a tiny way and I wanted to share that.

(This is by no means a comprehensive list and also I’m basing the “Country” part of this sometimes on my subjective opinion/limited music knowledge so yuh please don’t hate me if I get some wrong)

Also link below for a Spotify playlist of my favourite gay/gayish country music, some mentioned in this post some not, (with a title that isn’t obviously gay for anyone who can’t openly listen to gay stuff on their public accounts for whatever reason) so feel free to skip the massive essay and just jump straight to that. And pretty please repost if I missed anyone/ any songs you love.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7KB6PmUxnpkU7lih8Bysvw

Artists To Follow:

Chely Wright

- Right off the bat, Chely Wright is a legend and I’m in love with her. So, in the 90′s Chely Wright was kind of a huge deal. She started her career as a singer/songwriter and released her first album in ‘94, which was critically acclaimed although never reached the commercial success of her later works. By ‘97 she was really hitting her stride, dropping her breakout hit “Shut up and Drive” (a personal favourite of mine) followed two years later by the biggest hit of her career “Single White Female”. Throughout all that Chely Wright was, to the world, a good old fashioned, heterosexual southern gal. Privately it was a bit of a different story. She had public relationships with male country artists, all while pursuing a secret decade long relationship with a woman.

I hadn’t ever really heard a Chely Wright song until a few years ago so I never knew about her music or career pre-coming out but I do know that even though by the time she came out in 2010 she was by no means at the height of her fame Chely Wright is kind of one of the biggest names in country music to be out and proud (in my opinion) and I love her like an insane amount. I literally play her music in my car when I have passengers just so I can be like “fun fact this singer is actually gay-” and then subject them to a lengthy explanation of her entire career. She came out with an album and a memoir and the album is my favourite of her work because it’s so fucking raw and because I relate to most of it immensely. Anyways Chely Wright went fucking through it in her journey to being her authentic self and now she’s out and proud and married to a woman and they have a family together and I’m a fucking sucker for a happy ending and y’all should add her to every playlist you have. And on top of that her music is genuinely good. Coming out undoubtedly damaged her career but I think that

Brandi Carlile

- As far as I can tell Brandi Carlile has been out her whole career. I feel like this list is just going to be me saying “I’m in love with her” about a bunch of women old enough to be my mother but in my defence, I am honestly in love with her. She’s been making music since she was like, seventeen, and has had a bunch of massive hits, as a singer, songwriter, and producer. If you want to cry kind of happy tears listen to her performance of “Bring my Flowers Now” with Tanya Tucker. She’s won Grammy’s and CMT awards and she’s done it all as an out Queer woman. She’s also a founding member of The Highwomen, an all-female country music group who released their first album in 2019, comprised of Carlile, Marren Morris, Natalie Hemby and Amanda Shires. I really love this band because they’re four artists who are immensely successfully in their own right collabing, much like the Highwaymen, and their music is phenomenal while also being a fuck you to mainstream country music and their inability to properly represent women in country music spaces.

She’s been married to a woman (smoking hot and also brilliant) since 2012 and they have two kids together and if you want to cry (again) then you have to listen to her song “Mother” about her eldest daughter. A queer country artist absolutely worth adding to all your playlists.

Brooke Eden

- As I understand it Eden came out publicly in January of this year. She’s engaged to Hilary Hoover, who she’s been dating since 2015 apparently. I can’t even imagine the pressure that must be on a person and how stressful it would be to keep a relationship secret from the whole world for years and personally I think they’re a cute as hell couple and I wish them literally all the happiness in the world.

Brooke Eden has a few older songs that I think are really good, my favourite being “Act Like You Don’t”, and while her new stuff isn’t my usual country vibe I am a sucker for literally anything gay and it is legally my gay duty to stream any song that she releases to support my fellow queer. It’s quite different to anything Wright or Carlile sing but I actually kind of love that because it shows that country music of all different shapes and sizes and styles can be sung by queer artists.

Amythyst Kiah

- Okay so I am a very new listener to Amythyst Kiah, but her music is literally so beautiful it would be a straight up sin to not include her on this list. Her music is country-blues-roots esq (more roots than country, I think?) and her voice is so unique. She grew up in Chattanooga and has been playing music since childhood. She recently made her Opry debut which is fucking awesome. She also belongs to a band called Our Native Daughters, described as “A supergroup of Black women in traditional music”. Their debut album “Songs of Our Native Daughters” did numbers and I haven’t listened to the whole thing but my favourite so far are “Black Myself” and “I Knew I Could Fly” so y’all add that to your playlists along with “Wild Turkey” by Amythyst Kiah because holy hell her voice on that will blow your mind.

Steve Grand

- The first man to make this list, he should frankly be honoured. Grand has been an out and proud gay man making country music since like 2013, and I have so much respect for an artist who chose to simply never be in, choosing instead to simply write gay ass songs about being in love with men and letting the chips fall where they man. His music is always going to have a special place in my heart and, he’s cute so if you’re into men and music by men give him a google. add him to your playlists, his All-American Boy album is literally just a dozen songs that are perfect to yell-sing along to.

Katie Pruitt

- Not hugely knowledgeable on Katie Pruitt but her music makes me feel crazy intense emotions and is absolutely gay

Honorable Mention Artists I haven’t Really Listened to But Who I Know to be gay thanks to google and might be your thing so totally check them out:

Brandy Clark

Ty Herndon

Shelly Fairchild

Lavendar Country

Trixie Mattel

Cameron Hawthorn

Drop any other names of artists or songs you know of

Specific Songs That Make Me Fucking Cry or (in good and bad ways (but always in a gay way)) or basically are just gay as hell:

If She Ever Leaves Me; The Highwomen

- So, this album came out about a week before my first (and only) girlfriend broke up with me. The general gist of the song is a woman singing about how her loved isn’t ever going to leave her but if she does it sure as hell won’t be for a creepy man in a bar. A little ironic that I felt I related to it so intensely, considering she did in fact leave me. There’s this one lyric that goes “I’ve loved her in secret/I’ve lover here out loud/the sky hasn’t always been blue” and my girlfriend and I were crazy deep in the closet so I drew her a cute little picture of a grey cloud and on the back I wrote that lyric and I gave it to her and to me it was kind of a promise that one day I’d get a chance to love her out loud and even though I never actually did this song is forever going to make me cry because of the little bit of hope that lyric gave me and the way it’s inclusion on this overwhelmingly mainstream country album made me feel like acceptance was just that little bit closer.

All American Boy; Steve Grand

- Definitely one of the first gay country songs I ever heard, and Steve Grand didn’t once sacrifice a scrap of country for the gay. It’s beautiful, it’s a little sad, it’s hopeful. It’s forever going to hold a special place in my heart and the music videos is kind of one of my favourites ever. I found this song before I found myself and the way it made my heart warm should have been a stronger sign than I took it to be.

Like Me; Chely Wright

- When you love someone you kind of make it your mission to know them in a way that no one else can. This song by Chely Wright is sort of an ode to that, and how even once you lost someone, you’re still going to know every little thing about them. On top of that it sort of speaks to the idea that all these things Wright learned about this woman, she learned in secret and she knew her and loved her in secret and now that they’re gone from each other she’s left with all of this knowledge and all of these questions and no one to answer them. I love the way it’s so slow and the melody and her voice, the way it’s low and a little raspy, make this one of my favourite Chely Wright songs.

The Mother; Brandi Carlile

- Sorry but a song about being a mother by a queer woman is going to make me cry every time and actually I’m not that sorry. It’s quite a simple song, if any song written by Brandi Carlile can ever be described as ‘simple’, it’s an ode to her daughter. My favourite line is “you are not an accident/where no one thought it through” because it speaks to the fact that in order for queer women to have a kid together they have to want it so damn bad and also I just like the way her voice sounds on that line. This song is also the perfect thing to listen to if you ever for a second feel like being gay/queer is going to stand in the way of you having a family because it absolutely doesn’t have to and if that’s something you want, you can have it. Don’t let people try and convince you otherwise.

Loving Her; Katie Pruitt

- Unapologetic gay love. Opening a song with “If loving hers a sin, I don’t wanna go to heaven” is a fucking baller move and she went there. The lyrics are beautiful, and her voice is phenomenal. It could be a sad song, about confronting religious repression and grappling with what that means for your love, but instead its triumphant. Katie Pruitt doesn’t give a fuck if you have a problem because she’s going to write songs for her lover.

Jesus From Texas; Semler

- Not actually totally sure this is a country song, but it has the words ‘Jesus’ and ‘Texas’ in the title so I feel safe including it in this list. Honestly, I don’t really know why I relate so hard to this song. Like, I wasn’t really raised with religion, so I don’t know what it is about this funky little tune that makes me want to sob but there’s something about this tune that makes me want to do whatever the opposite of get up and dance is, but like, in a good way.

Lovin’ Again; Steve Grand

- Breakup song that ends kind of positively? So good to sing along to at high, high volumes. The idea that losing someone doesn’t have to mean losing yourself and just because you can’t love them doesn’t mean you’re not ever going to love again. But also kind of about how it’s hard to get over someone, I don’t know it’s just good.

Cryin’ These Cocksucking Tears; Lavender Country

- Jesus christ if this isn’t the coolest shit I’ve ever heard in my life. Sorry but a gay country group formed in 1972 who dropped possibly the first gay themed country album, and this was the title of one of the songs. God I am in love.

Songs that (to me) are a little fruity or that I just relate to in a gay way:

Picket Fences; Chely Wright

- Chely Wright is gay but this song came out long before she did and when she wrote it, it wasn’t supposed to be gay which is why it’s in this section and not the previous. The reason it’s included at all is because frankly ma’am, Mrs Wright, it’s a little fruity. And I feel a little bad for joking because honestly to me, the way I hear this song and knowing the context (that Wright was deeply closeted at the time she wrote and released it), it’s kind of just sad. The general gist of the song is Wright asking what’s so great about a traditional lifestyle anyways. It could be read as a woman genuinely questioning why we push that expectation that she’ll have two kids and a husband and a picket fence lifestyle, or even could be read as a woman who’s trying to deflect how much she does in fact want that, you have to listen and form your own opinion. But to me, it feels like a woman who’s desperately trying to justify why she doesn’t want that life not because she can’t have it, but she knows it will never be right for her. I don’t know it’s hard to explain I just feel like this song is a little bit gay even though I’m sure she didn’t intend that.

Sinning with You; Sam Hunt

- Sorry but this song is gay. Sorry but you can’t write the lines “I never felt like I was sinning with you/Always felt like I could talk to God in the morning” and “if it’s so wrong why did it feel so right” and “But I never felt shame, never felt sorry/Never felt guilty touching your body” and not to mention the opening line of “raised in the first pew/praises for yeshua/case of a small town repression”, and expect to not sit in my car sobbing as I realised that while I never felt like what we did was a sin she absolutely did, and wishing I could have told her that I was sorry for making her carry the weight of both our souls but also that it wasn’t a sin and nothing in the world could feel that good and be that bad and it isn’t right that she had to be so ashamed of something that was just so good. Sam Hunt actually said after he wrote the song that while it was reflection on his own relationship with faith he genuinely hopes that people in the lgbtq community can like find comfort or whatever in his words and like go off king, we stan an ally.

How do I Get There; Deana Carter

- This ones easy, it’s about falling in love with your best friend and suddenly realising you want more than just friendship with them. Sorry Deana, that’s gay. In my Deana Carter of like Year 10 I played this song on repeat and screamed along to the lyrics as though singing it hard enough would make her like me back.

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allthelonelynightsinyourlife · 4 years

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is this happiness?

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

tw: emotional manipulation, mention of sex and alcohol, borderline fucked up

genre: kinda angst?, non-canonverse, out of character/exaggerated Levi

prompt: Levi gets off and craves manipulating and breaking women, and it’s finally your turn to go.

word count: 1,271

MASTERLIST

Pain. He enjoyed inflicting it, specifically on women, emotionally, of course, Levi would never get physical with someone of the opposite sex. Though with men, it was another story, he adored to poke and prod at the most macho men in the bars he frequented, he coveted the satisfaction of thoroughly beating their asses. The man relished his little games; Levi’d pretend to be wholly in love and then tear himself away harshly once his prey had fallen into his trap. He savoured how he could see their hearts break when he said it was over, the quiver of their lips, the furrow of their temples, the way the fear and confusion cemented itself on their features. Levi didn’t quite know when or why he’d become this sadistic freak, but he was having fun, so he continued.

You were girl number 14? 15? He’d lost count at this point. The two of you had been going steady for a few months, and he had taken a liking to your cheeky little smile and those glimmering eyes. Those were his only reasons for staying with you, that and the sex. God you were a fucking animal, the way you gave him that dark, mysterious, lustful look as you went down on him. The raven-haired would never admit it, but you were a goddamn sex goddess or demon for that matter. But, just like all his other playthings, it was time for you to part, after all, he had another lady to see right after this so no time to spare, he had to get on with his duties.

▬▬▬▬▬

Levi had done this so frequently he didn’t even need to rehearse what to say, all he required was a few shots, and he would be good to go. He had called you earlier in the evening, feigning a distant voice to prematurely instil fear in you, asking if he could come over in a few hours. In your most nonchalant tone, you gracefully accepted, Levi could tell you were pretending. When the hour finally came, he unlocked the door of your flat with your spare key that you’d given him and walked into the dining room. You sat on a stool by the island of your kitchen, swirling a glass of red wine in your hand, the mulberry-coloured fluid coating the sides of the glass. When you overheard the door closing, you psychologically prepared for the imminent doom, you knew things would go astray at some point, they always did.

The man sat across from you, greeting you with a chaste peck to your smooth cheek, you looked at him, forbidding yourself from showing even a shred of emotion. He had that damn smirk on his face, it wasn’t a big one, so discreet it was like a deadly weapon. Levi had this magnetic stoic yet charming personality that enthralled all around him. You tried to soothe your hammering heart, telling yourself it was nothing, and that maybe, just maybe, you were overreacting. Could this really be happening? After all these months, were they meaningless to him? All those restless nights where you entrusted him with your most nebulous secrets? Those late mornings when you awoke deliciously weak from all the ferocious love-making, all those stupid fucking walks at dawn. You were happy, and you assumed he was too, so why? Why now, when you finally were at peace with the world, why-

Your sombre thoughts were interrupted by him calling out your name.

“Listen, we need to talk, I’ve been thinking these past few weeks, quite a lot actually, and I’ve realised something,”, your watchful eye caught his, egging him to go on, he paused before resuming, “I’m bored, bored of you, bored of this life, I want out”. Your eyes widened, and you could have vowed you felt a blow in your heart, and just as soon as it had appeared, you recovered your calm. No, he would not be allowed to see you in pain, you would never give him the satisfaction. You left him continue his rant, “It’s just not fun anymore, it’s not the same, you’re always whining like a damn crybaby about something,”, this time you felt the stab in your chest. “You need to grow up and be an adult, always getting upset over the most childish things, just like the brat you are. I’m through with coddling you.” he tsked. There was no way this was the man you’d fallen for, the one who beamed softly when you’d make him his favourite tea, who whispered sweet nothings into your ear to help you sleep, who’d seen every inch of your body and proclaimed that ‘no Renaissance artist could ever replicate such fine art’. There was just no way.

Levi continued his tyrant, each word slashing at your very being, shredding you apart like a pack of wild beasts. You feverishly fought the tears that threatened to seep out of your sunken orbs and flood the whole fucking flat. To hell with it, to hell with all of this bullshit, you’d wasted months on this fucking waste of a man, and yet your heart still pined for him, longed for him, fought for him.

“And you want to know something else? I never seriously loved you, I did all of this, for one thing, sex. It’s all you’re good for. This is who I am, and you’re going to suffer through this betrayal of mine.”, the final blow, the fragile mirror of your heart exploded into a thousand tiny fragments.

The worst part was that he said all of this with an oh-so-innocent smirk on his perfectly angular face. Levi was feeding off the grief he’d caused you, he cherished the power he’d acquired, his mercilessness and true nature were finally coming to the surface. So why didn’t the man get that rush when he saw your soul leave your body or when he saw your pupils dilate or when those gorgeous doe eyes became glossy with tears. The raven-head had gotten the reaction he craved for, so why was it different this time? What was that slight pang in his heart when he saw how he’d obliterated your mental state? He craved it night and day, the power-drive he got off on when women begged for him to stay or did the opposite and slapped him, and he couldn’t seem to understand why he felt different about your reaction. Nevertheless, it was too late, Levi had well over crossed the line, and now he awaited your response, never letting his vicious smile leave his portrait.

You took a few seconds to recollect your shattered peace of mind, searching for the right words to say, “Are you finished now?”, you queried, and he simply nodded in response. “All right, well, it was good to see you, get home safely,” you smiled cheerfully, you were going to keep your word, he would not earn this pleasure. Levi stared at you with a mixture of awe and shock, nothing too mind-blowing but, different. He got up and just as he collected his things, he turned back to you, his expression beckoning you as if to say, ‘that’s all you’ve got to say?’. You read his emotions and simply nodded, never letting the smile falter, that was until the door closed. Then you finally released your turmoil. All the memories you cherished were gone with him, through that door, off to pump some random chick.Your body wracked with tears as you sobbed on the countertop, never again would you be deceived by a man, and you were sure of it.

▬▬▬▬▬

AN: hey guys, here’s my first fanfic on this blog, nothing special just short, twisted, emotional manipulation. have a good day :)

#levi x reader #levi angst #levi x reader angst #emotional manipulation #aot x reader #aot #attack on titan #levi ackerman #levixreader #levi ackerman scenario #captain levi #shingeki no kyojin #leviackermanxreader #levi ackerman x reader

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

Text

It's Delicate: Part III

Summary: Spencer Reid finds himself at a gas station at 2:00 am, thinking he’s only leaving with a cup of crappy coffee. But something taped to the door catches his eye. Spencer leaves the gas station with more than he intended: the chance at a friend, and maybe something more along the way.

Word Count: 3.9

Author’s Note: Here's Part 3!! This was super difficult for me to get out, but I think I'm happy with it. I rewrote it like 3 or 4 times

It's Delicate: Part III

Spencer notices everything. He’s been trained to notice the slightest change in his environment. He supposes that his profiler training has helped him be more comfortable in social situations. But still, Spencer feels like a fish out of water as he pushes the door to the bookstore open. He knows he should feel at home when he’s in a bookstore, but his heart seems to be racing. Spencer tries to quiet his nerves before he can feel himself running away.

Thinking that it might be a good idea to distract himself, Spencer walks over to the bookshelf filled with books from the floor to the ceiling. He runs his fingers along the spine of the books. Some are old and used, and others are well cared for with their enabled and embossed writing on the spines. He recognizes some titles, but others aren’t too familiar. There’s a whole world of books out there that Spencer has yet to explore. There’s a couple other patrons in the store, an older woman who sits on the soft rocking chair in the back corner and a young woman who already has a pile of books tucked under her arms.

Looking around, Spencer walks towards the back of the store where a glowing sign directs him to the restroom. He goes into the Men’s Room and locks the door behind him. Spencer looks at his reflection in the mirror. He wouldn’t consider himself a vain man, nor would he consider himself aloof about his appearance. He’s very much aware of the deep lines that collect around his eyes and the dark bags underneath. Spencer runs his fingers through his hair, wondering if he should have gotten a haircut. He likes the way his longer hair looks. It took so long after getting released from prison to get his curls back. His hair is the one part of his physical appearance that Spencer can say he likes; the rest he’s a little less than indifferent about on a good day.

Spencer shuts the light off in the bathroom and heads back to the front of the store. He approaches the store clerk, who sits behind the counter. She’s talking with the young woman who had the pile of books tucked under her arms. Spencer looks around the store, trying to find a sign for where the book club meets. He realizes that he doesn’t even know what Y/N looks like. He decides to take out his phone to text Y/N that he’s here. Spencer walks to the short stories section of the store and looks for the “P”s. Once he finds the book he’s looking for he takes a photo and attaches it to the message.

Spencer: How have I not discovered this place sooner??

He doesn’t expect for Y/N to text him back right away, so he tucks his phone back into his pocket. Spencer walks to the front of the store. The display highlights the books of the month with different authors, genres, and themes. It’s a quaint little store and Spencer wonders why he put off visiting so long. The young woman finishes with the clerk and brushes past Spencer, her face buried in her phone. Spencer walks towards the shelves of True Crime books. He sees Rossi’s latest release about the Golden State Killer. Before Spencer can pick up the book, he feels his phone buzz in his pocket.

Y/N: Ooooh a man after my own heart :) I’m guessing you’re here too

Spencer: Yes...I just realized I don’t know what you look like?

Y/N: Well, I guess that means you have to find me

Spencer looks around at the patrons in the store. The older woman and the younger woman seem like the only logical candidates. The young woman doesn’t look up when Spencer brushes past, her attention is intently focused on the book across her lap, while the older woman swipes on her e-reader.

Spencer: You know I could just call you and your phone would ring

Y/N: That’s like cheating

Y/N: Turn around

Spencer turns around and is greeted by the young woman who brushed past him before. She smiles up at him and Spencer can’t help but grin back at her. He didn’t really give much thought to what Y/N looks like, and he can only hope that she didn’t think too much about him in that way. Spencer has to stop himself from that spiral, and remind himself that it’s not a date.

“You’re Y/N?” Spencer asks, hoping that he doesn’t sound too nervous.

“Yes, and I really hope you’re Spencer,” she says, “you’re nothing like I pictured,”

Spencer’s face must have shown his shock because Y/N’s hand comes up to gently touch his upper arm in an attempt to quell his worry.

“No, nothing bad, Spencer. You just text like a grandpa so I figured you were a lonely old man. I’m just surprised that you’re pretty...young is all,” Y/N finishes her voice climbing up a couple of scales making her nerves evident.

Spencer nods in agreement, used to people thinking he’s older than he actually is his entire life. He supposes that’s because of his intelligence coupled with his social ineptitude.

“Well, judging by your texting, I predicted that you would be around my age, or younger,” Spencer says he’s always had difficulties keeping conversations going, yet right now his mind is swimming of different things he can tell Y/N.

“So you ready for your first Book Buddy meeting?” Y/N asks. The corners of her mouth turn upwards in a playful smile. Spencer likes her smile and grows disappointed that the only time he’ll be able to see it is when they meet together. As much as he is technology adverse, he wouldn’t mind being able to see her smile through her emojis and snarky messages.

“I’m still not too sure what we’re supposed to do, but at least I’ve got you to show me,”

“Come on Book Buddy virgin,” Y/N says winking at Spencer as she walks past him to the staircase that leads to the store’s basement.

Spencer tries to ignore her comment, but even with his brain power he can’t stop his ears from turning pink. He’s always blushing around people who listen to him, especially when those people are so enthralling to watch.

In the basement, there’s shelves and shelves of books lining the walls. A couple of couches and sofas are tucked in the corner with a table and lamp. The soft light is warm and inviting. Spencer’s eyes can’t help but to scan the various titles in the collection. Y/N flops down on the couch and taps the seat, signalling for Spencer to sit next to her.

Sitting down next to her, Spencer wonders how much space he should put between them. He doesn’t want to sit so close and have her think he’s only here to make a pass at her. Nor does he want to sit so far away, because the scent of her peppermint and eucalyptus perfume threatens to mesmerize him.

Y/N brushes her hair from her face with her right hand, that’s adorned with a ring and a couple gold bracelets. She looks over at Spencer apprehensively and he tries to give her a comforting smile back, but he’s afraid that he just looks awkward. He suddenly is very aware that his breath tastes like stale coffee and his hair is wild, pointing out in several directions.

“So Spencer,” Y/N says, “usually we meet in a big group to do these Book Clubs, but this year the store decided to do this Book Buddy thing. Reading and picking out books for someone can be a very personal thing, so I’d like to get to know you a little bit better if that’s alright?”

Spencer’s eyes steady the woman before him. She looks over at him, her eyes never breaking from his. Psychology shows that holding eye contact is a sign of confidence, for a litany of reasons, Spencer has always had difficulties maintaining eye contact. He sighs loudly. It’s almost a mix between exasperation and confusion. Even though Spencer has spent a good portion of his adult life surrounded by very forward people, he still feels slightly nervous when he comes across those types recreationally. Especially when those types seem to have smiles so contagious that they throw every scientific study on germs out the window.

“You want to know about me?” Spencer repeats. He can feel his ears flush, and is thoroughly reminded that he hardly knows who he is.

“Yes, I want to know all your salacious stories Spencer,” Y/N says with a sly smile.

Spencer chokes out a strained laugh before he tries to think of an answer. He can’t remember the last time someone wanted to get to know him. Or maybe he does, and just wants to pretend that those memories died with her. But he can’t, because they are painful and real.

“I’m an FBI Agent, uh the Behavioral Analysis Unit specifically. We track down serial killers and other time sensitive cases,” Spencer says, used to giving the speech about his job on the rare occasion he does talk to another lonely soul at a random bar in a city.

He looks over at Y/N, ready for the reaction he usually gets. Sometimes it’s pity, other times it’s awe. But it all tastes the same with a shot of whiskey.

“That must be an incredibly exhausting job, Spencer. It takes a special kind of person to do that,”

That’s strange, Spencer thinks. Her words aren’t full of pity or awe, but almost understanding. It’s strange, but Spencer likes strange things, after all.

“It is,” Spencer says. He doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence with useless words that he knows are stale and meaningless. Somehow the silence doesn’t feel awkward.

“How long have you been in the FBI?” Y/N asks. She’s curious, but cautious to proceed and Spencer appreciates that.

“Since I was 22. I’m 34. I’ll be 35 soon,” Spencer says, still not fully believing that he’s spent nearly 13 years at the BAU.

“22, that’s a baby. I didn’t think that the FBI would recruit that young,”

Spencer grimaces, realizing that sooner or later this conversation would arise. He figured it would have come up when he got through the books in an hour or two. Spencer hates having to tell people about his intelligence. He never wants to make someone feel inferior about themselves because of his brain chemistry and genetic lottery.

“I’m kinda smart. Technically I’m a genius but I really hate that term. The idea behind intelligence testing has a very sexist and racist background. Besides, I don’t think true intelligence is accurately quantifiable,” Spencer tells her, repeating his speech usually reserved for arrogant detectives.

“That sounds like something a genius would say. You’re a humble genius. That’s a rare breed, Spencer” Y/N says, that contagious smile turning up the corners of her mouth and threatening to take over Spencer’s.

“I think that’s a compliment,” Spencer says “what about you? Tell me about yourself?” Spencer says, trying to remember the points of the conversation books he used to read as a kid in hopes of making a friend.

“Let’s see, you already know the boys. I don’t have any siblings and my mom lives in Florida, so we don’t see each other too often. I’m a Funeral Director in Alexandria, took it over after my dad passed a couple years,” Y/N says.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Spencer responds. Y/N smiles again, clearly a little tense to be talking about a sensitive topic.

“So Second Cat, I take it you’re a Poe fan,” Spencer says, holding to help ease into a more pleasant conversation.

“I like his short stories the best, but Emily Dickinson poetry will always have my heart. There’s something so ordinarily beautiful about the way she writes. She was so brilliant. And her and Susan, that’s a tragic love story,” Y/N finishes. She plays with the hem of her jacket absentmindedly almost like she wants to say something more.

“I first read “The Tell Tale Heart” when I was around 5,” Spencer starts, he rests his elbows on his knees to tell a story and he can’t help but feel a little excited when Y/N leans in a little closer to listen in, “I checked it out from the library and brought it home to read. Now it just so happened that I got a chemistry set. I will not incriminate myself but I may or may not have used the set as the directions intended,” Spencer says, holding up his hands in innocence.

Y/N scams him with a calculated stare, it’s not mean or judgmental, but cautious and careful. It’s like she’s deciding if she can trust him or not. He supposes she does when she winks back and says, “I’m sure that’s true Agent Reid,”

“It’s actually Dr Reid, but I’ll get there another day,” Spencer says quickly, eager to get back to his story, “so the chemistry set had some chemicals, the kind that won’t hurt kids. But I stole some sodium chlorate from the local gardening store and a pack of gummy worms from the Mini-Mart. Then I got back home and took out the chemistry set. I drop some of the sodium chlorate and gummy bears into the test tube and it starts to glow!” Spencer says, his voice gets excited when he remembers the experiment. There’s very few happy moments of his childhood, and this is one.

Y/N, listening to him eagerly, wears an excited expression as Spencer continues with the story. He’s forgotten what it’s like to have someone so interested in what you have to say.

“How does Poe fit in?” Y/N asks. Spencer’s fingers make a “1” as if to tell her to be patient.

“So I do the experiment and there’s pieces of molten gummy worms in my hair and on my clothes, but then I hear my mother walking up the stairs so I panic,” Spencer says, he’s an animated storyteller and Y/N is a captivated audience. He tries to not pay close attention to how her eyes hardly leave his or how they seem to be looking at him with wonder. But it’s hard to ignore that when you’ve never been looked at like that before.

“I scramble into my bed and shove the experiment under the bed, and it’s still smelling like burnt chemicals and gummy worms, mind you. And I pretend to read, but I’m reading The Tell Tale Heart, which you know is about a man who’s trying to cover up a terrible deed but literally shoving it under the floor. You know I think my 5 year old mind exploded that day,” Spencer says, he leans back so his head rests against the wall.

“It must have made quite an impression on you at what 5? How on Earth did you read Edgar Allen Poe at 5 years old? I didn’t read that until like Freshman year of high school,”

“I told you I was kind of smart,” Spencer replies, hoping that it would suffice.

“Yeah, but like a child prodigy that must have been very lonely,” Y/N says in a voice that tells Spencer she knows a thing or two about being intensely lonely.

“No one ever says that,” Spencer says in a hushed tone, “no one ever gets that it’s a lonely thing being a genius,” he finishes, putting air quotes around genius to show his discomfort with the term.

Y/N nods, “I’m not a genius by any means, Spencer, but I was an only kid. Part of me thinks it’s my fate to lonely,”

“I’m an only kid too,” Spencer says, “when I asked my mom why they didn’t have anymore kids she just told me why mess with perfection. I know it was meant to make me feel better, but part of me wonders what it would have been like to have a built in friend,”

“Tell me if I’m overstepping, I tend to do that, but do you want kids?” Y/N asks, she twists a ring that’s wrapped around her finger over and over like it’s a bad habit. She looks at him, expecting an answer, from the corner of her eye.

“I did,” Spencer says in a quiet voice, terrified that he’ll reveal too much to this enticing woman with eyes that never seem to want to look anywhere, but his.

“So did I,” Y/N tells him. Her voice mirrors his in it’s guarded, yet scared to reveal too much tone. Spencer is too busy hiding his own worry to recognize Y/N’s.

“I was thinking,” Spencer starts, determined to end the stale silence that settled between them, “of what book I thought you’d like. It’s actually a personal copy of mine. I had know clue how these things work, but I thought we could write notes in the margins. You know our thoughts and ideas about the book,”

Y/N gazes over at Spencer intently, as if she’s trying to think of how she’ll respond. Spencer notices the way Y/N pauses to think before she speaks, he tries to subdue the profiler training that ebbs to the surface, but he can’t control what his instincts tell him. He knows that Y/N is holding something back, but then again, so is he and who is he to judge.

“You’re okay with writing in a book?” Y/N asks, “I know that could be touchy for some,”

“Most of my books have little writings in the margins. I always thought that a book is a love letter from the author to the reader. You get to see inside their mind and to me that’s incredibly personal,” Spencer says, rubbing his palms that grew sweaty on his pants. It’s useless, because they just slide off.

“Well, you’ve convinced me, I brought a book too, but it doesn’t have notes,” Y/N says, “but if this works out, I’ll do it next time?” Y/N asks him, the hope in her voice apparent.

“I’d love nothing more than that, Y/N,” Spencer says, wanting nothing more than to reach out and brush his fingertips against Y/N’s. Her hand keeps on creeping closer to Spencer’s, he thinks that she’s trying to send him a signal, but Spencer feels too wounded, too raw to take that first big leap.

“So,” Spencer starts, he decides to clasp his hands together to avoid this new predicament, “what book did you decide on?”

“Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro, it’s one of the few books that is perfect,” Y/N says, putting emphasis on the “perfect,”. Spencer thinks that he can grow to be eager to wait each week for the hour or so he’s able to watch Y/N speak with such passion and love.

“I’ve heard about, but I generally read technically books and other that it’s mainly just books that aren’t in English,” Spencer tells her, he rummages through his bag, looking for his book for Y/N.

“Close your eyes please,” Spencer says, he hides the book behind his back, he smiles as Y/N’s absurdly contagious smile grows.

“Come on Spencer, I don’t like being teased,” Y/N whines, faux pout and all.

Spencer grabs her hand and guides it to the cover of the book, The Goldfinch. He lets go of her hand; his practically stinging from the way her fingertips pressed up against the back of his hand, even though it was only for a couple of seconds.

“The Goldfinch” Y/N says, “ooh how on Earth did you know I love Donna Tartt?”

“Lucky guess, I suppose,” Spencer says, a surge of confidence bolstering him enough to wink at Y/N.

Spencer watches as Y/N flips through the pages of her book. Spencer read it a couple of weeks ago and loved the way the author intertwined the mystery to create a riveting story. Spencer checks his watch, realizing that nearly two hours have passed since he and Y/N sat on the couch.

Just as Y/N goes to say something, Spencer’s phone rings, ripping him from his modest paradise. He gives Y/N an apologetic look and mouths “work” as he steps away from Y/N.

“Reid,” he says, he forgot to check the caller ID, a little too excited to finish this call and get back to Y/N.

“Is that seriously how you greet your favorite person in the world?” the voice, presumably Garcia asks.

“Garcia,” Spencer says, unable to hold back his slight annoyance.

“I know it’s time off, but I guess like male serial killers don’t respect women, they don’t respect our time off either,” Garcia quips.

“I’ll be there in 20, I’m out and I’ll need to get my go bag,” Spencer tells her, preparing for the inevitable.

“I know exactly where you are, Spencer. A little birdie told me you’d called him in panic. I really hope your lady friend appreciated your lavender shirt,” Garcia says. Spencer can hear the click of keys as she talks.

He rolls his eyes, but knew that this was to be expected, “Later, Garcia,” he says, hanging up the phone call. Spencer walks back over to Y/N, whose face is buried in the book. She twirls a pen in her right hand, like she’s thinking about what she’ll write in the margins.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, but I have to cut this short, work emergency,” he explains to an Y/N understanding Y/N, who nods her head.

“Don’t worry, text me that you got home safe, please,” Y/N tells him, looking up at him with genuine worry in her eyes.

“I promise, Y/N. I’ll see you soon,” Spencer says, grabbing his book and making his way up the stairs. He reaches the top flight when his phone buzzes.

Y/N: I mean it :)

Y/N: It was nice meeting you officially….

Spencer reads over the messages as he walks, replaying the interaction in his head. It’s strange to have someone care if you make it home say. The only people on Earth, besides Spencer’s mother, that care if Spencer makes it home are the people that risk their lives with him as well.

Spencer shoots a quick message back.

Spencer: I promise and I hope you like the book, it’s very special to me.

Y/N: I’m sure I’ll love it! Now go save the world :) :)

Spencer smiles to himself as he reads the message, amazed that her contagious smile can make its way through the string of code from his smartphone. As he drives off, Spencer thinks about the way Y/N actually listens to him or the way her hair sees fall perfectly into place. He thinks about her laugh and the way she almost makes him feel safe in the short time he’s known her.

But all those good thoughts amount to nothing, when the biggest thought on Spencer’s mind revolves around the shiny ring that sits on her left hand on the finger between her pinky and pointer finger.

A wedding ring.

-TAGLIST- (Comment to be added or if I forgot to add you)

@shemarmooresfedora

@april-14-blog

@willowrose99

@calm-and-doctor

@spideygenius

@measure-in-pain

@nomajdetective

@spencerreid9

@saspencereid

@laurakirsten0502

@thatsonezesty13 (I'm trying what's wrong with this tag)

Thank You For Reading

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid x reader series #criminal minds fanfic #it's delicate #spencer reid it's deicate

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

Text

The Cowboy - Part 3

Summary: Leaving the city for a rural area called Blayne seemed simple enough. Your task was to convince the people to agree with selling their land for a resort redevelopment. But once there, you soon realise that your city ways are entirely different to theirs. Winning their trust was going to take some effort, and when you start to fall for a local cowboy, you wonder if you really needed Blayne more than the city life after all.

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x female reader

Genre: cowboy au / drama / romance / if you squint there’s some enemies to lovers up in here.

Warnings: Jung Jaehyun is a cowboy, need I say more? (a bit of angst and drama, and it sometimes might feel like you’re reading a Nicolas Sparks book, so I’m told lol)

Word count: 2054

This series will be updated every Thursday and Friday.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

“What are you handing me those for?” you asked when the man you had arranged to meet with at eleven shook your hand in greeting and then placed a pair of gumboots up on the hood of your car. You eyed the footwear and then looked back at Avery McConnell with interest.

Avery chuckled. “I know how expensive those boots are.”

“It’s not muddy, though. I’ve come at the end of spring.”

“You’re in for an awakening, Y/N. Trust me, put them on.”

You took Avery’s advice and followed him over to his truck. Climbing inside, you then glanced at your guide. “Thank you for meeting with me today.”

“Hey, it’s my pleasure. Always nice to see a new face once every three or so years,” he teased, and you laughed with him.

“So I’m learning. Not many venture out here.”

“It would be nice if people did.”

“Right?!” you enthused instantly, gesturing to the mountain ranges in the distance. “This place has so much untapped potential.”

“You won’t get to un-tap it, Y/N,” Avery told you upfront as he swung the vehicle out onto the main road. “But I wish there was a happy medium. If we could create more jobs and better housing, it would improve our farming. It’s hard to get help to come out here when services like Amazon don’t.”

“Wait, they don’t?!” you groaned heavily at the concept of not being able to order coffee pods in bulk.

“You’ll have to set up a PO Box in the township over. And if you need to have any internet meetings, it’ll be best to do them there too. The internet reaches out here, but the signal drops so frequently that no one bothers.”

“Why hasn’t anyone asked for services to be improved?” you asked and Avery smiled at you knowingly. “What? You can request cables to be laid, and I’m sure if you pay half the cost-”

“There’s not a huge focus on the internet out here when the sun rises in the morning for outdoor productivity. Most of us just have mobile phones to ring one another when we’re out on our property. And even then, the signal can be dodgy.”

“But there could be improvements,” you insisted, and Avery nodded.

“You’re persistent.”

“Well, it’s not the primitive age. I appreciate there’s a historical factor and a tight-knit community here, but this land is capital, and you could all win from some modern intervention.”

“I’m not your enemy,” Avery admitted, parking the car up on the side of a country lane. “I went to the city to escape how plain Blayne is.”

“You did?”

Avery nodded.

“Then how come you’re back?”

“It’s my home. It’s strange. Not a lot of people get why we live like this, but to us, it makes the most sense. Plus my old man got sick and needed me to help take care of the steer.”

“Okay, I’m going to sound really ignorant for a moment, but is a steer some kind of deer?”

“You came out here without knowing your basic farm animals, Y/N?” he asked with a laugh, and you rolled your eyes. “Come on I’ll show you why we need gumboots around here.”

Holding your nose, you attempted to listen to Avery’s speech about how the pigs of Blayne were some of the best meat pigs in the country. However, you were overstimulated by the smells and the sounds of the barn that you couldn’t quite keep up with the knowledge he was passing on to you.

“Ah, so this is where you were,” a voice mentioned, and you spun around, letting go of your nose and gasped for air. The newcomer smirked, his dimples deepening.

God, you wanted to hate him for being so attractive.

“You know me. I’ve got to help any damsel in distress out.”

“Where is she?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes. “Oh! Miss City, are you getting snippy with me?”

“Thank you for the warning about the owl.”

He grinned. “You’re welcome. So, seen enough pigs and want to go back to the city yet?”

“Not a chance.”

“That’s a pity, should we take her out into the cattle fields, Avery?”

“No need to be that eager to get rid of me,” you bit back and Avery, who had been watching the two of you, started to laugh heartily. You realised then how similar it sounded to May’s laugh. You pointed at him. “Wait, are you two-”

“Sadly, I’m related to him,” Avery admitted dramatically, and you glanced at the scowl on the other man’s face. “Come on Jaehyun, who wants to be your cousin anyway?”

“I never asked to be related to you either but here we are!”

“Jaehyun,” you breathed, and the man in question blinked at you curiously. “Oh, I didn’t get your name last night, you see.”

“I thought you had,” he answered back, grinning again. “Mr Cowboy, isn’t it?”

“Well, you do look like the typical cowboy in the movies when you go around in your boots and hat,” Avery defended, which you couldn’t help but snort a little at.

Jaehyun folded his arms across his chest. “Cattle fields, next. Right?”

You followed them out onto the field, watching where you stepped. Now you knew the reason for the boots. If there hadn’t been enough dung and muck in the pig barn, you certainly had seen more than enough of it out in this field. Climbing up the hill after the two men, you huffed at how easy it was for them.

“I guess there’s no need for a gym membership out here,” you muttered, sucking in a deep breath.

Jaehyun turned and looked at you then. “Come on, Miss City. The cows are over here.”

“I never wanted to see a damn cow, I came to survey the land for suitable resort spots,” you grumbled out of earshot, grateful when the slope evened out, and you reached the top of the field.

Stopping to catch your breath, you blinked at the view. In every direction you looked, the mountain range was so beautiful. All you could see was an expanse of land, which held a lot of possibilities. A golf course, a swimming and spa resort were merely two of the possibilities for Blayne’s development. Being close to nature whilst enjoying leisure pursuits could really put this place on the map.

You turned again, smiling at the wondrous thought of redevelopment until you saw what had come upon you. Backing up from the impossibly large beast, you raised your hands in defence.

“Nice cow.”

“She sure is a beaut, isn’t she?” a voice mentioned at your side, and you yelped in surprise, slipping on a cow patty.

Strong arms reached out to balance you before you hit the ground and you looked up into the face of your saviour, Jaehyun washing his gaze over you momentarily.

And then he started to laugh. “Wow, Miss City, you sure are jumpy! Feeling a little scared, are we?”

“You scared me first!”

“Was it me or the cow?” he questioned with a chuckle, and you yanked yourself free from Jaehyun’s grip, skirting around the curious animal and dashing over to Avery’s side.

He seemed equally amused. “You sure this is a place for you?”

“I’m adaptable,” you muttered, blinking rapidly.

Even you didn’t believe your words now.

“Wow, I’m exhausted,” you mentioned when you arrived back at your residence, falling down onto the couch with a groan.

Jaehyun had joined you for the rest of your exploration with Avery, much to your disdain. Every time you got close to discussing some sort of loose plan with the man, Jaehyun would distract you or shoot down your ideas entirely.

You glared up at the ceiling. “Stupid Cowboy. What would he know?”

The phone rang then, and you whined childishly, hauling yourself up from the couch and going over to answer it. “Oh good, you’re there!”

“Ah, yes. You have a nice home here, June.”

“You think so? It was once the home I raised my children in until we built the one we’re in now. Ah, that’s why I called you. I’ve made extra food and wanted to invite you around for dinner.”

“That’s too generous of you.”

“It’s the least I can do after knowing how long the boys had you out for. I told them to take it slow since you weren’t used to our ways yet. I bet your feet hurt.”

“They do, I’ll admit it,” you confessed and June giggled down the line with you.

“That’s it then! I’ll send Jaehyun around to fetch you!”

“Oh, it’s fine. I can drive myself there if you give me directions.”

“He’ll be there shortly, dearie. I pushed him out the door long before making this call.”

“Well, he should be here then,” you mentioned, glancing outside the house with some unease. “I’ll get ready!”

“See you soon, Y/N.”

After placing down the phone, you dashed upstairs to freshen up your appearance, pulling out a floral boho styled maxi dress that you had bought specifically for your country adventure. Picking up a straw hat and accessorising your middle with a woven belt, you laughed at how carefree you looked out of your usual business attire.

“He should be here by now,” you guessed, looking down the drive for Jaehyun’s truck. Collecting your bag, you stepped out of the house and locked it, slipping the keys into your purse and then jumped when you heard a loud whinny.

Turning to the field adjacent to the drive, you gaped at the sight before you. Jaehyun watched you for a moment before leaping down from the wagon. “It’s a good thing I had to run errands for Dad and didn’t bring a horse for you to ride instead, huh?”

“You didn’t bring the truck?”

“You asked if it was legal yesterday. I doubt you would have gotten in it.”

You eyed the large animal warily. “And you expect me to get up there?”

“Miss City, don’t tell me you’re scared of a mere horse. Back before any car, they were man’s best friend.”

“I thought that was a dog,” you murmured as Jaehyun leapt back up onto the cushioned seat of the wagon, his hand reaching down for yours.

“Ever seen a dog plough a field for crops?” Jaehyun asked with a chuckle, his grip firm around your wrist as he helped you up.

You sat down and looked around yourself hopelessly. “Do I need a seatbelt?”

“You really haven’t experienced much in life, have you, Miss-”

“Y/N,” you interjected, smiling nervously. “Please, call me Y/N.”

Jaehyun stared at you again and then smiled, picking up the reins. “You can hold onto me if you get scared, Y/N. I won’t tell anyone that our city slicker is frightened to ride on a horse wagon.”

“Why did I agree to go out tonight?” you wondered with a groan, shrieking and grabbing onto the front of the wagon when it started to move. Jaehyun laughed at you before eagerly asking the animal to move faster, your hands gripping on more tightly to the bar. “You’re working too hard to get rid of me, Jaehyun.”

“Really? Is it that noticeable?” he wondered and smiled when he watched you loosen your grip. “You’re adapting to this pretty well, though.”

It was your turn to look at him, a smile forming on your lips. “I am, huh.”

He glanced at you and nodded. “Who knows, maybe you’ll last more than a week.”

“Talk to me again when I make it to a month.”

“You’ll be riding a horse by that time,” he suggested, and you scoffed loudly.

“No, thank you. I’m not here to play farm. I’m here to work.”

“Farming is one of the hardest jobs out there. I thought you were here to see how us Blayners tick?”

“Well…”

“I guess you better think about what you’ll wear for a horse riding lesson tomorrow then.”

“I never agreed to it,” you objected and then sat back in your seat when Jaehyun leaned towards you.

“I like your dress by the way. It’s pretty.”

“Still full of yourself,” you mumbled, fanning your cheeks with how hot they grew with his compliment.

Jaehyun grinned. “Still enjoying it, aren’t we?”

_________________

Part 4

[NCT Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

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thatgamefromthatad · 3 years

Text

Seen these ads? (Obey Me! Review)

This is a visual novel/otome/gacha card RPG game with the same characters and themes as featured in the ads.

As stated in many of the ads this game centers around seven demon brother love interests (as well as some other potential love interests) although the game has a lot of plot elements other than just romance. Most of the ads that I’ve seen feature real art that appears in the game one way or another, and the ads tend to be focused more on the characters and theme in general rather than specific gameplay. Of the ads that do appear to show gameplay, most of the time it’s not really what you’ll see in the game but still follows fairly close to the actual game (for example, the “kiss, free, whip” ad on the top left doesn’t show real gameplay, but you can kiss or whip that character. But that specific art comes from a gacha card I believe and isn’t what you see when you do the kissing and whipping).

A few notes before I get into the full review:

I’m a lesbian, so I’m definitely not the target audience for this game, but I always try to be objective and open-minded when playing any game I’m not the target audience for (other examples I’ve reviewed in the past are Moments, which was also primarily targeted toward women who are attracted to men, Immortal Taoists, which involved a genre I had never heard of before and really had no interest in, Time Princess, which also wasn’t my favorite genre but was still a great game, and various Genius Inc. visual novels, which are targeted more toward high-school age boys as far as I can tell).

Speaking of lesbians, this game weirdly censors the word “lesbians” but not any other LGBTQ+ terms (that don’t include the word “sexual”) as far as I can tell; I decided it was enough of a one-off thing that it wouldn’t factor a huge amount in my overall review of the game, but I think it’s still something to take note of and not let off the hook since it definitely shows bias and can be offensive to players.

This game is rated 12+ on the Apple App Store, and I was pretty harsh on Crush Crush for being rated that way because I thought it crossed the line with some of its sexually suggestive content. I kept that in mind while playing this one, and personally I don’t think it crossed the line in the same way, at least not from what I’ve played so far; although it does have sexually suggestive content (most often when interacting with the character Asmodeus, who is literally known in the game as the “Avatar of Lust”), it’s much more occasional through tidbits of dialog as opposed to in Crush Crush where it involved a whole section of the game and was more interactive in nature. I would definitely still cringe at the thought of a 12-year-old reading some of this dialog, but I think it fits fairly within the App Store descriptors of “Infrequent/Mild Sexual Content and Nudity” and “Infrequent/Mild Mature/Suggestive Themes.”

Last note - there is a character in this game (Luke) who has the appearance and demeanor of a small child who you can interact with in a similar way to the other love interest characters, which concerned me for obvious reasons. I looked more into this, specifically reading into all of the different dialog options involving this character, and his responses never seem to be more than platonic, which is good. He still blushes when you give him gifts and stuff, which is kind of awkward, and it seems weird to throw a kid character into an otome game, but all considered I wouldn’t say the game is promoting anything inappropriate (unlike one of the Genius VNs that clearly involved relationships between an adult and minors).

Sorry I know that’s a lot of notes and disclaimers but I just wanted to that all out of the way as general concerns anyone might have trying this game or reading this review!

Without further ado, read my full review below:

***

(I’m trying a new color-coding system to help highlight some of the main points of my review if you don’t want to read my entire essay word-for-word lol. Pink is a positive aspect of the game, red is a negative aspect/criticism and purple is not necessarily positive or negative but just something I wanted to highlight.)

😈 Is the game actually fun? Yes! Just in terms of production value, this game is top notch: the art and character designs are very appealing, the transitions between characters’ poses and facial expressions during VN scenes are actually animated (which looks much smoother and more natural than switching between still images), the voice acting is great (although the VN scenes aren’t fully voice acted, some parts like phone calls are and the characters say different phrases during scenes and battles as well)(Note: all the voice acting is Japanese), and the music is FANTASTIC and perfectly sets the vibe throughout the game.

The best parts of this game in my opinion are the different personalities of the characters and the overall plot; although some of the characters’ personalities can be a bit one-note at times (for example, one character’s entire personality that I’ve seen so far is that he likes to eat and is always hungry), the characters each have their own charm and play off each other well. I found myself getting invested in each of the characters’ desires and goals throughout the story, even the characters I didn’t particularly like. The story is also chock full of humor which is always fun, and the whole world and backstory built around this game (the “Devildom” setting and the idea of an exchange student program with angels, humans and demons) are also unique and impressive.

I really enjoyed the multiple modes of storytelling i.e. how the VN chapters are supplemented with text messages and phone calls from characters and an Instagram spoof with additional side stories to unlock. I know this isn’t a new thing in mobile games (even Gardenscapes and Homescapes do it to an extent lol) but add the compelling characters and overall production value on top and it’s a really enjoyable experience. Since the home screen of the game is set up like it’s your phone, with the different parts of the game represented as “apps,” the game kind of creates a feeling like you’re really living in this world with these characters where you can freely scroll through their Instagram feeds and check the messages you get from them on your own time. The shop where you can buy items and premium currency is called Akuzon (an Amazon spoof) and the place where all your gacha cards are is called “contacts,” which further adds to the immersive effect.

The “dating” part of the game is pretty cute although I haven’t gotten super far so I’m not sure of the full scope of the romantic interactions. From what I can tell, in addition to the dialog, blushy faces and bedroom eyes you get from characters when you give them gifts and touch different parts of their body (above the belt lol), when you raise your intimacy level with them you get additional phone calls and messages from them (I haven’t played a lot of otome games but I think that’s how a lot of them go). I wasn’t that invested in this part of the game but I think there’s some strategy that goes with using the right combination of gifts and touches to maximize intimacy boosts and get certain dialog, which adds a whole other aspect of gameplay in addition to the main game. I also noticed that occasionally your choices throughout the VN chapters will give you a small intimacy boost with a certain character; I kind of wish this was even more integrated since most of the time I felt like no matter what I chose it didn’t make any difference in my relationship with characters. Also, I don’t think there’s a way to “officially” date a specific character, it’s more about raising the intimacy level to earn more interactions but it doesn’t actually affect the main plot.

As far as the main mode of progressing through the game, which is winning “dance battles” with teams from your gacha collection, this part of the game has its own positive qualities such as the cute chibi forms of the characters that appear on screen and the fact that some of the special attacks show a little anime clip of the character (of course it’s less exciting when you see the same clip every battle but I still thought it was a nice touch). I was a little disappointed that there wasn’t a rhythm aspect as the “dance battle” name would imply, and your main interaction during the battle itself is basically just tapping hearts that pop up and tapping the characters when their attacks are ready, but you also have the option to skip that whole interactive sequence and just get a result based on your team’s stats, so there’s not much to complain about there (especially since the battles are sort of a side note compared to the storytelling aspect of the game despite being the main element of RPG-based gameplay that allows you to progress). If you are interested in the RPG aspects, there’s plenty of that to work with (building teams, balancing attributes, managing resources/rewards to level up cards and progress through skill trees of sorts, all that good stuff) although you’re limited to an extent by how difficult it is to get a lot of gacha draws without paying real money. It’s even harder to be able to focus on both strategy and character relationships while playing for free when the same scarce currency is used for both gacha draws and gifts.

👿 Is this a free game or a “free game”? Despite what I just said, I would still consider it a free game - you can gradually save up some of premium currency the game gives out through tasks in order to pay for more gacha draws and other items, and as far as I can tell you can access the main story and the other parts of the game without hitting a paywall. I only got to the fourth chapter so far though so don’t take this assessment as gospel. Like with a lot of other freemium games you might feel pressured to pay (especially when you run out of gifts to give your lover boys, which was the biggest downer for me, or if you’re obsessed with wanting to collect a lot of cards or get a specific card) but since you don’t actually need to pay to progress I still consider it free.

There’s also an energy system where you hit a wall and have to wait if you run out, but I never ran out because of the huge amount of energy the game dumps on you when you first start, and it seems like there are a bunch of other ways to get extra energy as well. There also aren’t pop-up or watch-to-earn ads in this game that I saw.

💀 Features

Main visual novel scenes and storyline (the visual novel scenes come between dance battle stages and there are a few short side routes that branch off but still one main route as far as I can tell, I don’t think your dialog choices really make a different except for in how the characters react to you immediately afterward. Still the main storyline in itself is fun to follow and it’s fun to get different reactions out of the characters based on what you say)

Dance battles (I’m not fully knowledgeable about the minutia of the RPG system at play here but in general the outcome of the battle will depend on the level, rank and attributes of your cards compared against the difficulty and attributes of the stage you’re playing. There also “memory cards” that can be assigned to support your team and expendable temporary boosters called “glow sticks” that boost your stats for one battle. During the battle itself you tap hearts that appear to earn extra points and you can tap your characters when their power is charged up to “attack” your opponent and use special skills. There are guides online that go deeper into stats and strategies and such if you’re interested. Different stages have different rewards for completion and you can quick complete levels you’ve already beaten to mine resources you need)

Gacha mechanic and cards (the gacha area of this game is called “Nightmare” and there are a few different pools along with event pools each with their own odds and sets of cards you can get. For the default pools you get free draws periodically and I believe you get one free draw for each event pool IIRC. You also get a bunch of vouchers for draws when you first start the game which got me handful of SSRs and a couple URs to build a couple of solid teams right off the bat. In addition to drawing directly from gacha pools you can get some cards by collecting card pieces as rewards from stages and events until you have enough to get the actual card. Each card has its own set of stats/attributes, can be leveled up and has a skill tree of sorts that can be progressed through with resources mined through beating stages, although it’s more of an attribute tree than a skill tree since most of the branches just add points onto one of your card’s attributes. Some cards, the rarer ones, have special skills that can be used in battle)

One-on-one characters interactions and intimacy i.e. the “dating” part (there are two ways this occurs: 1) you can set a specific character to your home screen that allows you to enter into an interaction with them, with a refresh period in between interactions 2) the main way, which is through “surprise guests” after dance battles. These surprise guests show up frequently but not always, and they’re always one of the three team members you used in battle, selected randomly. For each one-on-one interaction you can do three actions - either give a gift, touch the character or ignore the character. Sometimes the character will also offer you a high five which counts as an action if you oblige. Different characters have different favorite gifts and touching different parts of the body can get a different reaction depending on the character and your level of intimacy I believe. Your intimacy level with a character increases depending on the combination of actions you perform, and sometimes the character also gives you gifts back like more energy or resources. There are guides for this online as well)

Text messages and phone calls (text messages are the main mode of storytelling outside of the main VN scenes - you get messages from characters or multiple characters in group chats that you respond to with preset messages or stickers similar to how you make choices during the VN parts. Some of the text messages correspond with the main plot as you progress, ex. A character texts you to be in a certain place at a certain time and next VN scene is of you two meeting at that place. I think other text messages also come up when you reach certain intimacy levels with characters. There are certain group messages that you don’t respond to where you’re basically spying on a group chat among characters and just get to see what everyone’s saying. In addition to written messages and emoji stickers characters will also sometimes send pictures. Phone calls are fully voice-acted dialog you have with another character and they seem to pop up when you reach certain intimacy levels - I’ve only gotten ones so far with the two characters I have the highest intimacy with)

Instagram spoof/“Devilgram” (Devilgram is an in-game photo sharing social media app similar to Instagram and the photos on there correspond to gacha cards. When you acquire the gacha card that corresponds to a Devilgram post you unlock a side story, but you also need keys to unlock further scenes from that story, which can be gradually earned through completing tasks and such)

To Do tasks (completing tasks on your To Do is the main way to earn premium currency in the game along with other rewards and resources. There are daily tasks, overall tasks and tasks specific to each character. Examples of tasks are completing a certain stage or number of stages, beating a stage using a team that includes a certain character or reaching a certain intimacy level with a character. There are also beginner missions when you start the game that I think stay available until you complete all of them)

Events (there are sometimes side story events called “pop quizzes” and gacha events that are available for a limited time, or sometimes an event has both a corresponding pop quiz and gacha pool. The pop quizzes are separate chapters with their own dance battles and VN scenes, and the battles will come with reward points that you can spend on different prizes. Sometimes there are unique cards you can only get from an event. Other minor types of events include log-in bonus events and events where you can get special types of gifts for your love interests. There’s also a feature where you can “time-travel” back to old events at some cost but I haven’t explored this much)

Jobs (you can assign characters to passively complete jobs that earn you a small amount of non-premium currency over time and also increases your intimacy with the assigned characters by a small amount)

Customization (you can unlock avatars of different characters to use for your profile and set the name you want characters to refer to you by throughout the game. You can also change the outfit of your homescreen character, change the homescreen wallpaper and change the homescreen background music by making purchases in the Akuzon shop or acquiring certain gacha cards)

⚖️ Ad Honesty Rating: 4/5 (just from the ads I’ve seen, especially the ones that appear to be running currently, there don’t seem to be blatantly fake ads and the ads show real art and do well conveying the theme and characters in the game. However some of the ads are misleading about the actual mechanics of gameplay and may also lead you to believe there are actual romance routes with the characters which is not really the case)

⭐️ Overall Rating: 5/5 (I definitely didn’t want to give this game a great rating just because it’s super popular on Tumblr but I can definitely see why it’s so popular. There are lots of things to do, the characters are very lovable, it’s funny, the art is great, the music is great and the lore and overall vibe are compelling and unique. It’s a high-quality game with a good story and I’ll probably keep playing it)

▶️ Ad Example:

▶️ Gameplay Examples:

Dance Battles

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If you got through this review bless your heart ❤️ Special thanks to @human-watching-ads-from-devildom which is where I was able to view some of the ads since I was having trouble finding them elsewhere online and viewing some of them on the Facebook ad library.

Follow me for more reviews of those free mobile games you’re always getting ads for! Thanks for reading! 🥳

#obey me #obey me shall we date #otome games #gacha games #visual novels #full review #anime games #rpg #dating simulation games #romance games #war and peace but it’s just a review of a mobile game #sorry if there are typos or mistakes

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joneswuzhere · 3 years

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hello join me in thinking about some books and authors that are, or might be, part of s5′s intertextuality

5.10 in particular offered specific shout outs, and also u know i’m always wondering what might be ahead so i have some ideas on that:

- first, as mentioned in a previous ask post, i know i wasn’t alone in keeping an eye out for 5.10 parallels to the lost weekend (1945) the film that gave episode 1.10 its name and several themes - or to the 1944 book by charles r jackson which the film is based on

- s5 has not been shy about revisiting earlier seasons, especially s1. altho i feel that 1.10′s parallels to the lost weekend centered characters other than jughead (mostly betty), a 1.10-5.10 connection involving jughead and themes from jackson’s story (addiction, writers block, self reflection) seemed v possible if not inevitable

- but like,, , for a hot minute after the ep, i was really stumped on understanding how anything from the book or film could apply, even tho the pieces were almost all there

- jackson’s protagonist don birnam goes thru and comes out the other side of a harrowing days-long drinking binge that could be compared to jughead’s one-night hallucinogenic writing retreat

- but jughead is struggling primarily with traumatic memories, not addiction and self control like birnam. and tho drinking activates birnam’s creativity, it paralyzes his writing as he gets lost in fantasies; he’s never published anything. jughead’s drug trip recreates circumstances that already helped him write one successful book. even the rat that startles him mid-high doesn’t line up with birnam’s withdrawal vision of a dying mouse, symbolic of his horror at his own self-destruction thru alcohol

- and maybe the most visible discordance: in the film there’s a romantic motif around a typewriter. first it’s an object of shame; birnam’s failure to write, tied up with his drinking, makes him flee his relationship. he tries to pawn the typewriter for booze money and finally a gun when shooting himself feels easier than getting sober. but with the help of relentless encouragement from girlfriend helen, he quits drinking, commits to her, and focuses on typing out the story he’s dreamt of writing. rd goes so far to avoid setting any comparable scenario that jughead has brought a wholeass printer into the bunker so there can still be a physical manuscript to cover in blood by the end, even without his own typewriter. the subtle detail of his laptop bg image is a little less noticeable than his avoidance of betty’s gift

- tabitha might be closer to a parallel than jughead is, but she’s still no helen. both refuse to take advantage of the inebriated men in their care, but birnam takes advantage of helen, financially and emotionally. jughead refused a loan from the tate family and now has resolved to deal with his shit before he considers a relationship with tabitha. instead of helen’s relentless and unwelcomed attempts to get birnam sober, tabitha reluctantly agrees to help jughead trip safely bondage escape notwithstanding. she even helps him get the drugs.

- whatever potentials exist for parallels to jackson’s story, they were not explored for this episode. ok so why tf am i even talking about this? what was there instead?

- i have arrived at the point

- s5 has been revisiting s1, not directly but with a twist. and jughead’s agent samm pansky is back. u may recall, pansky is named for sam lansky

- jughead’s trip-thru-trauma is a story device tapped straight from lansky’s book ‘broken people’

- lansky is like if a millenial john rechy wrote extremely LA-flavored meta but just about himself no jk very like a modern successor to charles r jackson. both play with the boundary between memoir and fiction. lansky is gay; jackson wrote his lost weekend counterpart as closeted and remained closeted himself until only a few years before his death. both write with emotional clarity and self-scrutiny on the experiences of addiction, sobriety, and the surrounding issues of shame and self worth

- i feel like a fool bc after this ep i had been thinking about de quincey and his early writings on addiction (c.1800s), but i failed to carry the thought in the other direction, to contemporary writers in the genre, to make this connection sooner

- lansky’s second book, broken people, follows narrator ‘sam’, mid-20s, super depressed, hastled by his agent to write a decent follow-up to his first book, but too busy struggling with his self-worth and baggage from several past relationships. desperate, he takes up an offer to visit a new age shaman who promises to fix everything wrong with him in a matter of days. not to over simplify it but he literally spends a weekend doing psychedelics and hallucinating about his exes. jughead took note

- unless u want me to hurl myself into yet another dissertation about queer jughead, i think his parallel to sam - who, unlike jughead, has considerable financial privilege and whose anxieties center on body dysmorphia, hiv scares, and his own self-centeredness - pretty much ends there

- But,, the gist of the book could not be more harmonius with a major theme shared by the 2 films that inform the actual hallucination part of jughead’s bunker scene: mentally reframing past relationships to get closure + confronting trauma head-on in order to move forward

- so that’s neat. what other book and author stuff was in 5.10?

- stephen king and raymond carver get name dropped. i’m passingly familiar with them both but u bet i just skimmed their wiki bios in case anything relevant jumped out

- like jughead, carver was a student (later a lecturer) at the iowa writers workshop. also the son of an alcoholic and one himself

- i recall carver’s ‘what we talk about when we talk about love’ is what jughead was reading in 2.14 ‘the hills have eyes’ after he finds out about the first time betty kissed archie (at that time he does not respond as would any of carver’s characters)

- this collection of carver stories deals especially with infidelity, failings of communication, and the complexities and destructiveness of love. to unashamedly quote the resource that is course hero, ‘carver renders love as an experience that is inherently violent bc it produces psychic and emotional wounds.’ very fun to wonder about the significance of this collection within the s2 episode and in jughead’s thoughts. and maybe now in the context of the s5 state of relationships. or, at least, the state of jughead’s writing as seen by his agent

- anyway pansky doesn’t want carver, he wants stephen king

- i have too much to say about gerald’s game in 5.10, that’s getting its own post someday soon

- lol wait king’s wife is named tabitha uhhh king’s wiki reminded me of his childhood experience that possibly inspired his short story ‘the body’ (+1986 movie ‘stand by me’) when he ‘apparently witnessed one of his friends being struck and killed by a train tho he has no memory of the event’

- no mention of that in this rd episode but memories of a train could be interesting to consider with the imagery that intrudes on jughead’s hallucination. i still feel like it was a truck but the lights and sounds he experiences may be a train

- ok now we’re in the speculation part of today’s segment

- if jughead’s traumatic memory involves trains, then it’s possible this plot will take influence from la bête humaine <- this 1938 movie is based on the 1890 novel by french writer émile zola. this story deals with alcoholism and possessive jealousy in relationships, sometimes leading to murder. huh, kind of like carver. zola def comes down on the nature side of the nature-vs-nuture bad seed question (tho i should say he approaches this with great or maybe just v french compassion). also i can’t tell if this is me reaching but, something about la bête humaine reminds me of king’s ‘secret window’ which we’ve observed to be at least a style influence on jughead post time jump

- but wow a late-19th century french writer would be a random thing to drop into this season, right? then again zola also wrote about miners, which we’ve learned are an important part of this town’s history + whatever hiram is up to this time. and most notably, zola wrote ‘j’accuse...!’ an open letter in defense of a soldier falsely accused and unlawfully jailed for treason: alfred dreyfus. archie’s recent army trouble comes to mind.

- since the introduction of old man dreyfuss (plausibly Just a nod to close encounters actor richard dreyfuss, but also when is anything in this show Just one thing) i’ve been wondering if these little things could add up to a season-long reference to zola’s writings. but i had doubts and didn’t want to speak on it too soon bc, u know, it’s weird but is it weird enough for riverdale??

- however,,,

- (come on, u knew where i was going with this)

- a24′s film zola just came out. absolutely no relation to the french writer, it’s not based on a book but an insane and explicit twitter thread by aziah ‘zola’ wells about stripping and? human trafficking?? this feels ripe for rd even outside the potentials here for the lonely highway/missing girls plot.

- that would add up to a combination of homage that feels natural to this show

- anyway pls understand i’m just having fun speculating, most of this is based on nothing more concrete than the torturous mental tendril ras has hooked into my skull pls let go ras pls let go

#accompanying image has no meaningful organization it's just there to make me look insane. enjoy #riverdale speculation #filmref #but books #adhd has me like. this is Not the post i've been trying to write for weeks but my brain gave me no choice

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softly-savage-mint-yoongi · 4 years

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Heat Seekers I

Genre: Dark Cyberpunk AU Pairing: Chanyeol x f.reader Words: 5k Fic Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. I’m serious people. If any of the chapter warnings are uncomfortable or triggering for you, please do not read this. Do so at your own discretion. Lots of angst and hurt, eventual smut. Chapter Warnings are below the cut. Author’s Note: There are some specific things in this fic that I’ve personally experienced, and some that I have not. Please understand my intention with this fic is a way of healing not just for myself but hopefully for others who unfortunately have experience with these types of situations. I did a lot of debating about whether or not I should even post this fic, and have spoken to a few individuals about it. Ultimately, with the intent of healing and moving past such trauma, it’s been decided OK to post. Please take my warnings seriously.

Chapter Warnings: Metaphoric descriptions of statutory rape. Assault, sexual assault. Gaslighting. Attempted murder. Brief mentions of substance abuse and prostitution. Minor character death.

You always believed there was no such thing as Heaven, but surely there was Hell. Several iterations of the grotesque and horrific afterlife; because humanity is a plague and that is what each of us deserved.

Perhaps in your younger days, you didn’t know it… no, even then you knew. Deep down inside you remember nothing of happiness or blessing. No memories of a person’s presence, actions, or words doing anything considerably good for anyone else. Certainly not without a motive. Certainly not out of empathy.

Before you could walk, throwing yourself into the repetitive ease of programmed machines and technology brought you peace. Technology is predictable and massively accessible to anyone. Technology is your comfort.

Electricity became nearly free and unlimited after the revolution that ended the War on Power in 2045. So long as the sun rose every day, there was never a shortage, and the resulting surge of technological advancements that boomed, as a result, have made most fairly new tech obsolete.

Sustainable, economic, and eco-friendly power became the way of the world. Wind energy became the norm. Buildings were now made from fiberglass solar panels, stronger, taller, and widely available, so every surface collected energy from the sun. Window glass collected heat to use in the winter, eliminating the need for natural gas heat altogether. More room for technology to grow. More surface area on the ground for parks and forests. Resorts built above an ocean’s surface harnessed the energy of the currents moving below their supports. Anything that wasn’t hovering in midair could collect energy from earthquakes and natural disasters alike, as long as humankind was lucky enough to have built something that could capture the energy and withstand the storm. The earth was well on its way to healing by the time you were born in 2051, and although humankind flourished along with it, the world was still a dangerous place. Corporations rose even higher and politics declined, dissolving into a place wrought with criminal activity and fear. Yes, humans were healthier, stronger, lived longer if they were lucky. But was that really such a good thing? Your parent would throw anything she didn’t find valuable at you whenever you locked her out of the apartment, and she was too weak to force her way inside. You were smart enough to know you would be no match in the likely event someone tried to break in, so you had to defend yourself. You wear wary of the men she brought inside, always idly wondering if any of them were your father, but so few of them ever returned.

You don’t remember ever knowing you even had a father before that, unknowing until she told you about sex and what makes a human child when you were four. Not that you’d asked and not that she would care to speak to you when she was anything other than suffocatingly drunk.

In a room that was barely such, the feeble plywood walls held together as if by magic and the curtain strung up as your door sagged so low it only served to be a nuisance to your agenda. Outdated machines and technology stacked high around the walls, most were scrap parts for your projects.

You dedicated every day to sitting in the same spot, surrounded by computers and machines, and learning what makes them function. The finite possibilities, yet the scope of their differences, is something that brought you peace and kept the gears in your own head turning. Sometimes, you would pretend and daydream as if you were an android yourself. You were not lucky enough to be born as one with artificial intelligence.

You attended virtual school whenever you felt like it, or at least you knew the basics. Your parent didn’t care. She nearly pretended like you didn’t exist, which suited you just fine. From the time you were five, she began leaving you alone at home. You knew how to pull the cracked plastic stool over to the counter and get yourself some goldfish crackers or something else simple. You weren’t allowed to use the stove even though you’d repaired it twice, but the microwave was fine.

You knew how to bathe and how to use the restroom and clean up after yourself because you had to. There was nobody else for a long time. Days came and went when you weren’t sure if she would ever come back, only for her to come banging on the squeaky front door or crashing through it slurring her words and waking you from a fitful sleep to wipe at your tear-stained cheeks in the middle of the night. The notion of your tears on her behalf was always something unpredictable and confusing to you. Why would you cry over such insignificance, you sometimes wondered to yourself.

If she stopped coming back one day you would figure it out. The nice man across the street from your apartment building ran a tiny tech store and he always had a smile for you and something that needed fixing. Most days he would ask you math problems as something he called a “lightning round” of questions for an extra quarter for every right answer. Surely the three dollars he gave you for what your fixed every time was enough to put what little food you needed in your stomach.

By the time you were eight, the habits you and your cohabitant fell into became routine. You became accustomed to sleeping during the day while she was out, setting your school live feed on record so you could watch it later. At night, while trying to drown out the sounds of her screaming or sex or shattering bottles, you would work. In the world you knew, the industry wasn’t as slow as it used to be. Too fast-paced for most new phone models to make it past their six-month mark before it was time to stop manufacturing and making capital, moving onto the next one. From what you understood, a new model of home security cameras could go on the market one day and be in the clearance pile before you got your next paycheck. Security tech became your playground after a few years, and you didn’t have enough money to buy anything. It never bothered you that you were always a step behind the latest tech because you had to wait a week until the latest model began showing up in dumpsters. It was never your intention to be faster than that. By the age of ten, you knew your priority was survival and in order to do that, you had to protect yourself with whatever means necessary. You had six different checkpoints in security on your living space not long after you became familiar with it. An additional four security cameras had been installed by your own two small hands around your building as well, at the entrance, elevator, your floor’s hall, and in front of your flimsy front door. All secretly controlled by you, without the knowledge of the outdated model of AI that ran your front desk, passively named Al- born of the building owner’s lack of creativity or care. Probably both.

You spent your days alone, in the tiny, insufferable hole in the wall place called your ‘home’. Where, as the years propelled to 2063 on your twelfth year, you chose to ignore most of the other inhabitants of this world. On a worn-out and broken faux leather armchair, perpetually stuck in the reclining position. Where you sat to work and where you slept and where you held your breath at the groaning sound omitted from its cushions every time you moved. You kept fixing it whenever it would break, dumping you from the side of it with a ‘plunk’ as the bars jumped off their tracks. You scowled every time they snapped the tracks completely. You worked to hone your skills in the world of technology, tinkering and learning every detail of every machine you could get your hands on from the dumpster behind your building. Sometimes if you were lucky, the building owner would forget to pay the trash removal services and it would pile up for weeks. Heaps of smelly trash were a small price to pay if it meant you could hit the jackpot and take several trips up and down the rickety old elevator with your arms full of tech.

Those were your happiest memories. Your body felt like jelly by the time you finished sorting through it all and bringing it up to your stash, carefully removing casings of microcomputers or game cartridges to get to the gold inside.

Everything was fine and although you couldn’t say you were content with your life- you didn’t hate it. You loved the freedom to be left alone and the peace of your tinkering tech. Perhaps a little impatient to grow up, but with every passing year, you celebrated quietly to yourself during the days you had been told your birth date fell. Somewhere between these seven days, you pulled up the same app on every smartphone you had in your possession and ran quickly around your makeshift room trying to blow out twenty digital candles in one big breath- careful not to trip over small piles of tech as you went.

It became a blur after you turned twelve. Somewhere along the timeline not long after that, a man started showing up to the apartment and threw off the balance you had so carefully maintained. You never knew his name, but you remember his face, his cologne, and his voice, and the way his eyes sparkled with something that sank in the pit of your stomach the first time you laid eyes on him. Most of all, even now, you remember him in your restless nightmares and the raw feeling of vindictive rage that in your weakest moments, reminds you that you’re alive, if only by the boiling heat of your blood rushing through your ears. In those moments, when your vision goes fuzzy with the desire to see him suffer and rot miserably in the deepest pits of hell, preferably bleeding and screaming.

You remember him from a time past, standing in the kitchen with your parent, one of her arms curled around his thick neck and the other raised in the air, his fingers closed around her slim wrist. The suit he wore looked expensive, and their bodies were slowly bending over the kitchen table in a strange dance, waiting for her back to snap and flatten against the wooden surface. Their eyes flashed to yours for less than a heartbeat as you walked to the refrigerator, laughing at something that lulled in the silence.

The next time you saw him he had fed your cohabitant something so toxic she passed out on the floor beside the couch. Then he spoke to you. In his deep baritone, he sounded like he smoked too many cigarettes too often. Or drank a bottle of razor blades.

“Pretty little thing ain’t ye?” he asked, dipping his head through the curtain that thinly veiled your world from outside eyes.

You ignored him, choosing to pretend as if the headphones situated on your head were actually producing audio. So he hit you.

Then he hit you again, screaming at you for ignoring him and calling you a bitch, whatever that meant. You heard it slung at your parent enough to know it was derogatory.

You didn’t even scream, you remember. Very clearly you sat shocked, but tears spilled down your cheeks from the pain alone. The heat you felt on your cheek, swelling and rough as if you’d fallen off a motorized bike and gotten road rash on your face.

Your fingers rose and you can recall them vividly, shaking as they reached to touch at your cheek and the hiss of pain as you recoiled from yourself.

Then, you try not to visualize it, but it won’t go away. You remember the feeling of his hand grabbing yours as it froze in midair, yanking you from the protection and warm affection of your old faux leather chair. It growled as he ripped you from its grasp in protest, pulling you so hard the force nearly dislocated your shoulder while he simply tossed you on the floor.

You remember the feeling of his fingers pulling at your clothes and then pain. Extreme pain, so brutal and fast it took your breath away. Your face throbbed as his palm fit perfectly across your whole skull, pushing your head onto the rough wood planks below.

You screamed, but you don’t remember if any sound came out, or if it was just that nobody cared that you did so. You screamed and cried, trying to crawl away as he grabbed at you. There was a ‘whoosh’ feeling as the air was ripped from your lungs when something burning sunk, forcing itself a home of darkness that never should have been between your soul and your corporeal form.

And then nothing.

You remember waking up to the sharp scent of blood, confirming it when you saw it on the floor around you, glistening and wet in the faint glow of computers. You remember the pain that shot between your legs as you tried to sit up properly, groaning as fresh tears worked down your cheeks. The cry that left you rippled pain across your face, too, and you remember crawling yourself over to your beloved chair and leaning against the comfort of its worn fabric as you reached for any of the smartphones you had.

For the first time ever, the brightness of a screen made you flinch back in the darkness. Persevering, you opened the camera and turned it to selfie mode, inspecting your face in the digital reflection. Your right cheek was fat and red, and two purple circles were clearly left in the wake of where his gaudy rings hit your skin. The stain on your skin crept up below your eye.

You made yourself calm down enough to quell the sobs wracking your chest to softer whimpers and tears to help the pain in your cheek stop.

It happened again some unknown weeks later. Your parent so stoned and drunk she passed out blissfully somewhere else and he came to you again. Your begging did you no good, and you were no match for his strength. Why hadn’t you run the moment you could stand on your legs again after the first assault? Why hadn’t you hauled every piece of your tech and saved dime from your bank account or gone to the nice old man across the street for help? Deep down, you knew. You were confident enough to know he would find you and smart enough to know he would kill you when he did.

The second time, you wished you had a gun or a knife. Not just cameras to catch him in the act. Or something that would make him stop and leave you alone. It was just as bad as the first, except this time you didn’t pass out. You did your best to stay still, compliance your only weapon in hoping he goes away that much sooner if you let it be over with. It still hurt just as bad, and he still left you in a puddle of white and red wetness on the floor. The scent of blood made you dizzy.

For the first time in your life, you begged. You begged the adult that raised you and fed you until you could do it yourself. For just once you desperately wished to talk to her and confirm. To make her do something to save you. You were terrified you wouldn’t be able to save yourself, and if this were the last thing she would ever do for you, if it were the last time you would ever see her, you would be grateful if she would just do something to save her daughter.

Hopelessness and an unending free-fall of terror are what you received. You were stronger than she was, and nearly her height by now, with a young healthy body not wrought with substance abuse. You forced her to sit still and keep her eyes open. To keep watching the video even though you couldn’t watch it yourself, barely able to weather the sounds coming from the captured footage.

When it was over, you hadn’t realized you were crying. Your vision blurred when you opened your eyes, with wet cheeks that felt the rush of air as you maneuvered in front of her and gingerly knelt on the floor to beg at her knees. You gathered her hands in her lap, struggling to hold them as you repeated your pleas.

She ignored them, literally shaking and gasping for breath and telling you it wasn’t real. Telling you it never happened. When you forced it upon her and threatened to go to the police with it she pulled your hair and screamed at you. Screamed that you were an idiot and that he would kill you both because didn’t you know who he was? Didn’t you know the power that man held over so many? No, you didn’t.

And it suddenly dawned on you, she was just as scared. She was scared and terrified and unable to grasp any semblance of control over what that man did anymore. She was a fool to think she ever did, and you were a fool to have a sliver of faith in her. So you left to clear your head, much to her cries not to. Born out of anxiety, fearful you would go to the police.

You walked farther than you thought you could as you attempted to regain the strength in your legs. Slowly, and by the time you returned the sun had fully set, but an orange glow caught your attention from the rooftop, one floor above yours. Wisps of smoke, too. Odd, nobody ever went up there.

A single stray cord and a plastic piece of backing laid on the floor between the elevator and your door, and your heart sunk back down all fourteen floors. You were out of breath and the pain between your legs was searing by the time you shoved your way through the metal door to the roof.

Sitting on the ledge was a gaunt, familiar face. She was smoking a cigarette, watching the flames and smoke from three rust-stained barrels. Inside of them was most of your tech. Your cameras, a few handfuls of smartphones, seven computers, gaming consoles, tablets.

You barely remember what happened after that, but you know it was a lot of screaming and a burn when you attempted to kick one of them and stomp out the flames. That day was the catalyst that made you take action, planning to escape from hell. If there was no chance to be saved by someone else, you would have to do it yourself.

Racing the clock on a high of anxiety, you only prayed that for three days he wouldn’t show up. You only needed three days.

On the afternoon of the second day, you hadn’t realized you were alone in the small apartment of your old and outdated building. You were too busy working like lightning to beat an imaginary deadline on your heels. You hadn’t noticed she had left until you came out shortly to use the restroom and find some crackers.

There he was at the kitchen table, the cheap metal legs of the chair bowing under his mass. You froze, watching him in shock and briefly you let your eyes wander around the living room to realize she wasn’t there. His voice was low as he told you she passed out in the elevator hours ago.

The chair made a horrible scuffing sound as he stood up, and you flinched. It didn’t matter once he took your wrist in his grip, and he made you suffer once more.

Something unhinged him this time, and even through the pain and nausea and the attempt to make yourself faint just to not have to live through it, you felt it. Felt the psychotic shift in his brain as he laughed at your pain.

It broke something inside of you. Escape. Do not let him do this to you. Definitely do not give up and let it happen. Retaliate. Fight. Get away. Run. Live.

You barely recall how you came to the conclusion, or how you stomached the grotesque way, when he leaned over your back, you turned your head. How you took the easiest thing to reach- his right ear lobe- between your teeth, and mangled him for all you were worth.

The gratification was immediate as he sprang from you, shoving you forward and holding his head. You remember no pain in that moment, and smiling with adrenaline, breathless but with lungs full of oxygen at the same time. You bolted before he could come back to his senses, grabbing your bag from your chair, thankfully nearly complete, and ran out, fixing your clothing along the way.

He tried to get up fast enough to stop you, lunging for you with one hand as you made it into the hallway, but whatever adrenaline you were on was potent, and your senses were razor sharp. You ducked his hand, hearing him barrel into the wall with his momentum as you made for the elevator.

You watched in slow motion the hopeless rage morph onto his stubbled face, knowing he wouldn’t catch you in time. Letting go of his ear, you saw it maimed, the bottom half missing, an obvious mouth-shaped crest bleeding heavily onto the floor as he reached instead to procure a gun from his jacket.

Although your heart leaped at the sight of it as the metal door creaked open behind you, his hands were messy, and the gun slipped from his bloody grip.

Turning to get on, you hesitated for just a second when you saw her there, passed out in the corner of the elevator. You shoved the button for the lobby as hard as you could, planning to rip the wires from the panel behind Al’s desk the moment it reached the bottom. It would give you enough time to get away as he descended the stairs.

You remember watching her sleep, but an eerie sense of foreboding grew in the intimate space the lower the elevator went, despite the beauty of golden hour cityscape from the window that served as the back wall of the capsule.

It took a few moments for you to realize the sun looked odd against her skin. Her hair didn’t catch the rays, nor did her lips hold the same color or fullness of your own, a feature you had in common. She looked sick.

An unfamiliar emotion welled in you. Some concoction of fear, sadness, and a heavy sense of solitude congealed in your chest and your throat as you crouched beside her quietly, afraid to make a sound.

Hesitantly, you touched her shoulder, immediately recoiling at the unnatural stone of her form, refusing to be pliant under the gentle press of your fingers. Swallowing the bile that rose in your throat, you grasped her shoulders, shaking her. Her body slid further down the wall when you let go. It remained there on the floor in an unnatural and rigid stillness, heavy.

You tripped as you receded backward, falling against the smooth metal of the door. Terror overcame you and a bewildering sense of lonely unknown stood towering before you in your mind’s eye. Not that you expected to ever see her again. Not that you expected to care, you hated her. But you hadn’t wanted her to die.

“Mom,” you remember choking up her title in reverence, the one and only time in your life you’d ever said the word.

You groaned with pain, suddenly powerless without the adrenaline that was just coursing through your veins. Everything hurt. Your vision, your head, your body, your heart. You were going to throw up. But you’d be damned if you did it before you escaped. You were so close. Just a little further.

Your mouth watered with the impending expulsion of your gut, but you managed to fall backward out of the elevator and stumble to your feet, feeling heavy as you trudged past Al’s inquiry of your health to the panel, ripping every wire out with your fist.

Just once you threw up beside the revolving door of your building before entering. You staggered through it after, feeling a rush of fresh air that told your very soul it was over.

You did it. Now you just had to make sure you survived, but you were good at that.

_________________

April, 2072

You pursed your lips, scowling at the bitter, sour flavor of the lollipop settled on your tongue. Leaning to the right, you lifted your hand from the grip of your bars, reaching through the thickness of your helmet through the open visor and whipping the candy from your mouth with a grimace.

You slowed, unable to afford a littering fine if you just threw it to the wind behind you, even though you wanted to rebel in that way. Too many high-tech cameras on the city streets to get away with anything unless you had the money to pay off the cops.

Which, unfortunately, you didn’t.

Twisting forward to squeeze the brake, you let your bike lull into a quiet purr as you pull off onto a quiet road, looking for the correct receptacle. You let it crawl forward, along the curb, and over a storm drain so you can lean over and drop the candy into the trash. For a moment, you lick your lips, pulling your backpack around to rummage through the bag of lollies inside for a better flavor.

While you search for a strawberry- your favorite- you weigh the pros and cons of just buying a bag of strawberry flavor instead of the assortment. Price, for starters, you scoff to yourself, remembering to pluck the sour apple wrapper from your pocket to toss into the trash. Exclusive flavor bags are more expensive, but you don’t waste as much by throwing out every god damned green apple you pluck from the bag.

Frowning when you come up empty-handed, you take the second-best choice, unwrapping the dark red of a cherry lolly when a presence catches your attention. A man, tall and thin, clothed in dark colors standing still against the bustle of the city. There’s a black baseball cap on his head, pressed down over dark red curls that peek out at the edges.

He’s wearing square, dark-tinted sunglasses that block out his eyes, with ears that bow out from his skull, and you briefly register that he’s built the same all around, in large proportions, from his hands to his face to his towering height.

Even in the late afternoon, his visage glows with artificial color as he basks in the light of a large television displayed in the storefront window. Although his attire tells you he’s trying to conceal his identity, he doesn’t seem to stick out, going ultimately unnoticed by the people passing by him.

His face is turned towards the television as a news channel covers a fire at a large corporate building from last night. It shows impressive plumes of flame and thick smoke, even darker than the night sky, glowing faintly with billions of lights.

The man watching the television bounces a short stick between his teeth, but you can’t tell what it is from this distance. You notice his face moves, the apples of his cheeks rising high as he smiles wide, easily a head above the crowd.

The sound of sirens from the recording of the fire dins away to the sound of an audio clip taken from a phone call. A man’s voice, clearly distorted with an autotune. Raspy, dark laughter, and a bitter promise to chase someone to hell.

A small part of you is smug, rooting for the villain even, and his vicious words to whomever the message are, or was, intended.

The sun is starting to set, and you hate having to watch the skyline glitter with the golden light as you drive on. It’s an unwanted and unnecessary memory, unforgiving in the distance of your timeline.

Luckily, you enter the undercity just as the light grows intense, escaping into the sleepless neon of your world. Into the black market and the tech industry, rife with people who thrive on a never-ending night, as if their veins are made of glass and filled with inert gases to make them glow just as brightly as the buildings here.

You’ve got a lead from a friend of sorts. Someone who you’ve got a history with from your days at the bordello, and who kept you alive once upon a time when you first came to the undercity, terrified but determined to forget yourself and be born as someone stronger, smarter, better.

He’s never given you bad intel before, so long as you could get to it before a clan or a faster loaner. Luckily, you have a natural gift for hacking and the latest model of ‘unhackable’ Hyperbikes are no exception to your deft fingers.

You pull up outside Blue House, scanning the digital bulletin for the job he mentioned. You press your finger to it, holding your breath for the marquee to inform you whether it’s still up for grabs, or if it is unfortunately for you- in progress.

A smile cracks your lips when the green light pops up, and you whip your glove off when the prompter asks to scan your left thumb. A second passes as the soft blue light moves across your finger, chirping in confirmation when it’s done.

You don’t even care what the job is- but Chan promised it would be something you could do. All you remember is hearing a payment sum that could put good food in your stomach for a month straight. The only question you had was why a tech hacking job was showing up on a brothel’s bulletin board.

Ultimately, what was one more undercover prostitution job? You were familiar with the work that came through the bordello, and its basic services. In the last two years, you’ve moved away from it little by little, having made some waves with your work as a hacker in the undercity. Your moniker started to be whispered across the shadows as the underdog, a genius ‘for the people’ hacker that put bad men where they belonged. Only Chan knew you by two names. The rest of the world only knew one.

The name Maneater.

#heat seekers #chanyeol x reader #chanyeol fanfiction #dead dove do not eat #exo fanfiction #chanyeol angst #exo angst #chanyeol fic #exo fic

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comradesummers · 4 years

Note

Top 5 books or anything I should read

Hi, thanks for asking!

I’m an English major, so I can’t remember the last time I read a book that wasn’t for class. But I’ll try to recall what it was like to read books solely for pleasure. Also, I’m not going to be ranking the books because I don’t want to and I’m going to have 6 books instead of 5 because I feel like it. (Fair warning: I could write a lengthy content warning for every single one of these books, so if you’re worried about that sort of thing, I do recommend you look them up before you read them. You’re also welcome to ask me about it.)

Catch 22 by Joseph Heller

So this book was extremely written by a white guy in the 60′s. It’s the kind of novel that galaxy brain dudebros are constantly recommending to their girlfriends. But given that I put a David Foster Wallace book on this list, I might just have to accept that I’m a galaxy brain dudebro at heart.

Anyway, this novel is a brilliant deconstruction of the absurdity and tragedy of war and capitalism. It’s hilarious, clever and heartbreaking. I think a lot of authors do the non-chronological timelilne thing just to seem more interesting than they actually are, but in Catch-22, the non-linear timeline is used perfectly. The narrative works on an emotional level (even if it’s a bit confusing on the linear level) so that a lot of plot points that are initially presented as funny and absurd become such emotional gut punches later. For a book that’s known for being so clever and above it all, it is also unabashedly emotional and Heller truly cares about his characters in a way that very few satirists do. It’s a book that will make you laugh and cry and care a whole lot more than you were expecting to.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman

So this is kind of a weird one for me. It’s really short, more like a novella than a novel, which isn’t usually my thing. Also, the characters aren’t really characters, they’re archetypes (which is done on purpose, because that’s how a lot of short stories work, but I know that’s a turn-off for some people). I’m also not a huge horror fan and this is one of Gaiman’s more horror-y outings. So why do I love it so much? Well, it’s basically Childhood Trauma, the book, and it does that really really well. Like, through it’s archetypes and its horror tropes and its general use of shorthand, it captures this really specific atmosphere of nostalgia and fear. It’s like one short but perfectly constructed dose of pain and catharsis and it achieves that through restraint. It’s a brilliant little piece and I love it a whole lot.

Beloved by Toni Morrison

So, if it’s not clear by now, I love me some good emotional storytelling and there’s no genre more beholden to emotion than the gothic novel. And, with all due respect (and love) to the Bronte sisters, Beloved is the best gothic novel of all time. I’m honestly struggling to explain why it’s so good. Partially because everyone already knows its good. I mean, it’s a classic for a reason. But partially because talking about this book and its contents is really difficult. This is the saddest book I’ve ever read. There’s no other book that destroyed me quite as much as this one. I’ll probably never reread it because it was so hard to get through the first time. Morrison’s prose truly takes you to the depths of the pain of her characters. It presents the horrors of slavery mostly through the trauma of the aftermath and it does so with such care and brilliance. This book is truly a masterpiece and if anything on this list is required reading, especially for my fellow clueless white people, it’s this one.

Brief Interviews With Hideous Men by David Foster Wallace

I was considering leaving this one off the list, just because I was embarassed to admit that I’m the kind of person who likes David Foster Wallace. I mean, I might as well start vaping and mansplaining while I’m at it. But I decided to be honest instead, so here we are.

Anyway, I was never able to get through DFW’s headier stuff. Like I really did try to read Infinite Jest, but I could not get through it. But Brief Interviews is a short story collection, which is great, because if DFW gets too far up his own ass in one of the stories, you can just skip to another one. And to be honest, I do think there are some shitty stories in this one (wtf is that Tri-Stan shit David?). But the ones that work? Holy shit do they work. I’m not even remotely kidding when I say that The Depressed Person is what finally convinced me to go to therapy. Like I read it and I realized that if I related to the character that much, I really did need help. It’s such a good story and if you don’t want to read the whole book, at least read that one. Personally, I think it’s the best thing DFW has ever written. And the interviews themselves are almost as brilliant. Like, I know that DFW is most well known for his post-modern experimental style and his weird obsession with tennis, but honestly, I think he’s at his best when he writes character studies. He’s really good at creating uniquely shitty human beings and then truly getting to the core of why they are that way. And Brief Interviews is the crowning achievement of that.

Go Tell It on the Mountain by James Baldwin

So James Baldwin is a genius, obviously, and there are plently of novels of his I could have chosen for this list. I went with this one because I love books that follow multiple generations of one family, and this book is easily the best version of that that I’ve ever read. It’s a novel about the cycle of abuse, religion, racism, segregation, poverty, police brutality, coming-of-age and sexuality. And even though the book is pretty short, it covers all of these themes brilliantly and thoughtfully and with such love and care. It’s also semi-autobiographical, which is probably why it feels so personal and gut-wrenching. Objectively, it’s probably the best book on this list. It truly is a masterpiece from beginning to end. Also, no offense to Umberto Eco, but it has the best religion based hallucination/vision from God (depending on how you choose to read the scene) scene in any book ever.

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon

So I know I said I wouldn’t rank anything, but this is probably my favorite book ever. The best way I can think to convey my love for it is to tell you that I’ve associated it with an unrelated song (The Only Living Boy in New York) and there are few things I care about more in the world than making sure that that song will be used in one particular scene in the inevitable TV adaptation, even though I know that’s never going to happen because it would be a completely anachronistic song choice.

It’s hard for me to describe why I love this book so much. Part of it comes down to a really specific personal connection. My grandpa, like Joe, escaped the Holocaust and went to New York and had a really close relationship with a distant cousin of his because the Nazis had killed most of his extended family. So yeah, as a Jew, this book hits pretty hard. But also, as is probably pretty apparent by now, I love pretentious prose that uses way too many big words. I also love emotional and thematic stortytelling and oh boy does this book have that in spades. And the character work is so gorgeous and I care about these people’s relationships so much and the comic book sequences recapture the feeling of golden age comic books so perfectly and god I love it so fucking much.

#christ that was hard #also shoutout to cloud atlas which i remembered halfway through writing this thing but i was too lazy to add a section for it #catch 22 #joseph heller #the ocean at the end of the lane #neil gaiman #beloved #toni morrison #brief interviews with hideous men #david foster wallace #go tell it on the mountain #james baldwin #the amazing adventures of kavalier and clay #michael chabon

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donkey-hyuck · 4 years

Text

word count- 2,710

genre- the nightmare before christmas! au (if that makes sense) || fluff || suggestive || mayb angst

characters/pairing- jack skellington! jaehyun x sally! reader || nct

warnings- suggestive scenes || does not really follow the storyline of tnbc tbh || lowercase intended || dialogue heavy!! || lmao i used festival so much || obvs if you’re v religious and don’t celebrate halloween, don’t read it pls and ty although this is purely fictional

a/n- lmao just watched the nightmare before christmas on disney+ and it gave me some inspo ;) also i love tim burton films :)) the divider is by @/firefly-graphics i’m just a pussy lmao

jaehyun was the official representative of halloween. well, halloween in your town, specifically. although he is known throughout the globe, he celebrates the special occasion in his hometown. but during the past few years, jung jaehyun had gotten bored. bored with the ongoing festivities and the same traditions. yet he didn’t want to disappoint his people, whether he knew them or not, the citizens of all ages looked up to the halloween king.

“hurry, hurry! jung jaehyun is on his way! i repeat, the halloween king is on his way!” shouted the mayor, while all the villagers were frantic to make everything perfect for this year's halloween festival.

and as soon as the gates opened, everyone was rushing and screaming, finally being able to see jung jaehyun himself. the crowd cheered as he waved and greeted the people he oh so loved. but he was getting tired of the same old thing. for every halloween since he’d been born, the man was always left alone. the fellow women and men fawned over him, he was drop dead gorgeous, no doubt. but he wanted something more, something passionate, someone who he could love and trust, not just a one night fling.

so while everyone was cheering, you had been sitting on the farest point of the street. your creator, lee donghyuck, had no intention of seeing the man himself. although donghyuck loved jung jaehyun, he wanted to be back home, well rested and well fed. only you wanted to see jaehyun up close.

whenever jung jaehyun was invited to the lab, or came to stop by, donghyuck would always keep you locked up, and so you were never able to meet him.

“but i want to go see…. mark. he’s up with the crowd,” you begged your creator. he only held your arm back and refused to let you walk up the street without his consent. and after fighting back, you unstitched your arm to let go of the pressure and quickly ran to the closest thing you could hide behind, in hopes of getting away from donghyuck, and in chances of seeing jung jaehyun.

you had a slight feverish crush on the man, but who didn’t? even so, almost the entirety of your town loved jaehyun in one way or another. so you were pretty much hopeless. a hopeless romantic, as some would say.

hearing the shouting of donghyuck approach you, straight away, you headed toward the cemetery. a safe place, somewhere you were able to hide, to get away from your life as a creation.

while running to the farthest point of the cemetery, jaehyun had been cornered by the women of all ages.

“jaehyun, i can give you what you want. what you need,” said a young woman.

“oh don’t mind her. i can set you up with my granddaughter, a very beautiful and successful entrepreneur,” bribed an older woman.

“forget them! jung jaehyun, i will devote my entire life to you. for us to be together forever,” begged another.

he looked astonishing that night he came back. with his hair nicely styled, and his all black outfit bringing out his physique and tattooed self. no wonder why all the women were all up in him. but he was a family man, and the children had also been disturbing him as well.

“jaehyun! look what i did for the festival tomorrow.”

“look at what i can do! i’ll be as strong as the halloween king one day.”

“look at my sister jaehyun! isn’t she pretty?”

he loved the attention, but sometimes he wished they would leave him be. he had a life. a really hectic and busy life.

“we’re doing the first bunch of raffles today! get ready to collect them!” announced the mayor over his speaker, making everyone turn their heads and jaehyun to run the opposite direction, towards the cemetery.

you and he shared the same safe place. it was quiet and there was barely anyone around, so it was a good place to take a breather and relax.

planning to eventually go back to the lab, you picked some gardenias to put in donghyuck’s soup for later. hearing the district voice calling for his dog, you hid behind a tombstone and listened to the halloween king.

“zero! come here,” he patted his upper thigh. the spirit of his dog then arose from the ground and barked as jaehyun smiled and picked up a branch from the ground. he then started to say aloud, “oh, zero… i love this community very much. everyone is so welcoming and friendly, especially during the halloween season. but i just feel so suffocated. it’s the same event every year for the past four years. i want something new. i need someone new.”

you felt connected to him, in a way. the two of you were broken souls, ready to find anew; yet it never came. and it felt like it would never come. you were attentive of his wants because you were on the same boat, sort of.

as much as you loved lee donghyuck, he was very strict and it was too throttling in the lab which made you venture to the cemetery and gather gardenias to help him doze off faster.

peering through the corner of the large tombstone, you saw him standing on the edge of the cliff, playing with zero and talking to himself. while he was paying no attention whatsoever, you quietly exited the cemetery and walked the way to donghyuck’s lab.

you sauntered through the front door and walked directly to the kitchen to crush the gardenias before he was to ask for his soup.

“oh y/n!” he said in a singsongy voice, he entered the kitchen to see you stirring up a boiling pot of frogs breath soup, his favorite, with a gardenia touch.

“i’m almost done, master haechan. it’ll be up in a minute!” you spoke over your shoulder before mixing in the dash of gardenia powder into his bowl. he willingly smiled and walked back up into his research laboratory.

after the finishing touches and a sprinkle more of the gardenia powder, you brought the soup up to his room and let him gobble down the soup with a blink of an eye before going to your room— or what you called prison— to pack a basket of goodies to give to jaehyun, anonymously. but first, you sewed your arm back on.

in the basket, contained a bottle of red wine, a block of cheese, and some baked bread from the bakery down the road. as well as a not that read, ‘i know how you feel, and i’m on the same boat as you. i wish there was a way for us to escape.’

popping your head through the research lab door, you confirmed that donghyuck was knocked out cold, and should be for the next two hours.

silently, you sneakily passed through the townspeople and made it to jaehyun one hell of a house. it was on the other side of town, so by the time you reached his home, it was already evening. lee donghyuck must’ve woken up, for sure.

after you entered the gate, regret instantly filled your body. but you traveled all this way, so there was no point in stopping now. carefully, you placed the wooden basket on the doorstep and rang the door, hiding behind the wall.

jaehyun opened the door, ready to greet whoever was visiting him at that time, only to be met with no one but the basket filled with delicacies and a note. picking up the basket, he read the note, and a small smile appeared on his face before walking back into his house and closing the door.

you had been holding your breath the moment you hid behind the wall. and when the coast was clear, you breathed out the breath you had been holding, only for you to suck it back in when zero was sitting by your feet, looking up at you with his face turned. then, he barked.

“no, no, no! shhh. i don’t want him to know i’m here. please be quiet,” you pleaded while whispering. yet to no avail, as the door is opened once more because he heard his beloved dog.

“zero! zero where are you? i heard you barking, let’s go inside!” he walked around his property and finally checked the place where you were previously hiding.

“there you are. let’s get you some rest.” but zero looked to where you hid next, behind a boulder statue.

“come on, let’s go,” he patted his leg, and this time zero obliged.

“whew,” you huffed out while slowly getting up from your hiding place to walk back to the lab.

but as you were cautiously walking out of his property, jung jaehyun saw you exit his gate through his peripheral vision, he then looked to the basket he placed on his desk. and in that moment, he had to know who you were.

the next day during the halloween festival, you’d been punished for putting gardenias in his soup as well as sneaking out. donghyuck locked you up in your room and the only thing you could do was look out the window to see the villagers enjoy their time.

jaehyun had woken up early that morning, to get ready to find his secret admirer he hoped was going to be at the festival. he dressed as nicely as he could, making sure to gel back his hair and wear a nice suit for the occasion. he then stuck the note you gave him inside the pocket of his blazer. and he knew what he was getting himself into. if he were to ask anyone who knew about the note, they would lie and say they did. but it was worth a shot.

he vividly remembered your pin straight hair, reaching down your back, as well as those tiny black heels that were about two inches high. but that was all he did remember and he was unfortunate enough to not be able to see your face.

so, jaehyun just observed.

when he reached the main part of the festival, crowds of townspeople filled the street, excited for the day to come. and when people started to notice the halloween king was there, they gathered around him and showed him everything there was possible. however, jaehyun knew it was just all the same activities and booths. everything that just tired him out. they needed something new, something fresh.

“jaehyun! you’re here early,” said the mayor, but the man was not paying attention, rather he was maneuvering his head around, trying to spot ‘the one.’ noticing this, taeyong bumped him on his shoulder, now worried.

“... is everything alright?” asked the mr. lee in an anxious voice. to which jaehyun just smiled reassuring the mayor.

“everything is perfectly fine, mr. lee! but to keep this between you and me…” he paused for a moment, looking around and taeyong leaned closer to jaehyun. “.... i’m sorta looking for someone. she gave me this note yesterday and as well as a bag of goodies.” but the mayor was surprised by his statement, and he screamed louder than he should’ve.

“woah, woah! the halloween king has a crush on someone? you have a secret admirer!” he tried to hush him but it was too late, the people had already heard.

questions started to arise and the people started to gather around jaehyun again. asking when, where, and more commonly, who. he refused to answer the uprising interrogations and ran the farthest he could.

he ended up hiding in the bushes of lee donghyuck’s lab. when he was sure there was no one who had been following that far, he stood up from the bush and dusted himself off. it seemed like he got ready for purely nothing.

the man paced back and forth, rereading the note you had given him and throwing small stones to the wall of the lab. hearing all the commotion, you gazed out the window to see jung jaehyun, reciting the note over and over again. you listened for a bit, until you remembered the throwing stones part.

“..... you know… master haechan will be upset if he finds you chucking rocks at his lab,” you spoke up as he chuckled at the sentence. he looked up to where the voice was to be already met with your chin resting on your crossed arms, looking down to him.

“calm down, it’s only stones. besides, the professor loves me,” he bragged. “what are you doing up there anyways? shouldn’t you be at the festival?” he asked with his brows furrowed.

“yeah, but i disobeyed the master yesterday. got stuck locked up.” you didn’t know you had the confidence to have a regular conversation with the man you’ve always admired. jaehyun only smiled and replied, “how about i save you then, princess?” your pulse was racing, and you didn’t know how to feel. after a few moments of silence, you looked back down.

“master haechan is at the festival. probably with the mayor or his great uncle taeil. if you ask, he’ll probably give you the master key.” jaehyun nodded and ran back to the scene of the festival to find the professor to bail you out.

when he came back, he immediately opened the front door and walked up the stairs to try and find you. but when he was gone to look for donghyuck, you’d been pacing around your room, anxious. why did you tell him? you thought to yourself over and over. but every one of your thoughts came to a stop when the jiggling of the key became clear. you were really doing this.

somehow, you were more afraid of getting caught that day than the previous. if donghyuck knew jaehyun came to get you out, you’d be in much bigger trouble.

he was finally able to hear the click and opened the door. a full smile plastered on his face, showcasing the dimples people fawned over. shyly, you smiled back and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear catching me do the debby ryan HAHAHA.

jaehyun held out his hand and instantaneously he knew, you were the one. without any further conversation, he dragged you to the place he loved; the cemetery.

while talking about no specific topic, he brought up the shenanigan you pulled yesterday, although he was grateful you did.

“so, were you the one that stopped by last night? and gave me the basket…” he ceased his walking, “who gave me this note?” he pulled the note from inside his blazer. if you thought your anxiety was bad when he was bailing you out, it did not compare to the amount of anxiety you were feeling in that moment.

“...uh… yes i did... did you not like it?,” you stuttered, getting jittery. he only cooed in adoration as he cupped your cheek. “don’t worry, my love. you’re the first one to ever give me a gift that thoughtful. even gave me my favorite red wine.” his response made you sigh out of relief as he just smiled softly and rubbed his thumb against your cheekbone. it was an intimate moment. but slowly, jaehyun found himself leaning closer and closer to you.

grazing his lips against yours he whispered, “thank you,” and pushed himself closer to your lips, catching the gasp that escaped your lips. you were left shocked, with your eyes wide opened and your figure stood there awkwardly, not kissing back. but the man grabbed you by your waist, gently, and his other hand rested on your jawline as you responded back.

it was a slow, yet needy kiss. desperate to have each other but savoring the moment. his tongue met your bottom lip as he turned his head to kiss you deeper, his nose now tickling your right cheek. he then stopped and removed his lips with a pop.

“i think i found my escape this halloween,” he was breathless.

“i think i did too.”

#nct #nct 127 #nct jaehyun #nct 127 jaehyun #jung jaehyun #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #jaehyun au #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun angst #jaehyun x reader #jeong jaehyun

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