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cestlestial-beings · 3 years

Text

like that

Summary: Three times Sam and Dean have sex: 1. Dean visits Sam at Stanford and they find out they feel the same way about each other; 2. Sam confesses to Dean that he's a man, and Dean does his best to ease Sam's worries; 3. Years into Sam's transition, Dean enjoys Sam's masculine traits.

Fandom: Supernatural Characters: FTM!Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Pairing: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester Word Count: 4600 AO3: Link

Notes:

Thanks to @jackklineisperfect for beta reading :) Any errors you find are my own.

Pronouns are based on Dean's perception, not Sam's identity.

Part 1/Stanford Sam looks like this.

More notes on physical transition for transgender men are included in the end notes on AO3.

Full Fic:

The First Time with Her

Dean fell in love with Sam when she was sixteen. One day, it just clicked. She was beautiful.

He would never act on it. She was four years younger than him, and they were siblings.

But every time he hooked up with someone else, he thought about her.

* * *

Dean visits Sam a couple of days before her birthday, two years into her time at Stanford.

He has no idea how she’s going to take it—they’d had enough angry arguments over the phone during Sam’s first six months that they haven’t spoken to each other in more than a year, despite how much Dean has wanted to—but here he is, in front of Sam’s apartment building, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk.

Finally the front door to the building opens, and Dean sees her.

His breath catches. She’s embraced her feminine side since she’s come to Stanford. She’s wearing a fitted t-shirt and shorts that show off her long legs instead of the too-loose hoodie and jeans of her high school days; she has a wavy, shoulder-length hairstyle and bangs instead of a choppy, done-at-home haircut; and she has just a hint of makeup on—light eyeliner and lipgloss. She looks nothing like the frumpy, tomboyish girl she’d been when Dean saw her last.

“You’ve been standing out here for two hours. Are you just gonna stand there looking like a stalker, or are you coming to come in?”

He ducks his head and jogs up the steps to the door. Right back into her sass, before even a hello.

“You look so grown up, Sammy,” he says, as she walks him up the stairs to her apartment.

Sam smiles shyly. “My friends are really insistent on helping me with my style.”

No kidding. Dean’s never seen her look so much like a girl.

She leaves the stairwell at the third floor and stops at a door about halfway down the hall, then turns to him.

“Dean, why are you here?” she finally asks.

He gives her a wavering smile. “I wanted to surprise you for your birthday, Sammy.” He knows that doesn’t answer her question, so he sighs and adds, “I know I gave you a lot of crap for leaving me and Dad behind, but…” He shrugs. “I miss you. I’ll accept your decision if it means you’ll be in my life.”

“Awwww. That’s so cute.”

“Shut up,” he says, rolling his eyes. All grown up and yet still the annoying little sibling.

And then she smiles, and it lights up her whole face. His heart melts, and he hates himself for it.

She pulls him into a hug. “I really missed you too, Dean.”

* * *

Sam introduces Dean to her roommates as “an old friend” which strikes Dean as strange, but he rolls with it. She grabs her stuff and they go out for burgers, talking about everything except what Sam left behind. The conversation is so natural, it’s almost as if the two-year gap since they last saw each other hadn’t happened at all.

Dean gives her a gift (a small stack of classic movies he knows she hasn’t seen but should) and buys her a milkshake. He sticks a candle he’d brought with him into the top of the milkshake and lights it, and Sam laughs when an employee comes over to tell them to put it out because it’s a fire hazard. As it gets dark, Sam takes Dean on a walk around the Stanford campus, pointing out certain landmarks as they go.

It’s almost ten at night when they get back to Sam’s apartment building. They stop in front of the building, and it feels like the end of a date, neither of them sure where to go from here. Something shifted in their relationship since they’d seen each other last; there was a new, unexplored dimension to it that hung heavy in the air between them.

“Where are you staying?” Sam asks him.

Dean points to the Impala, parked across the street. “That’s my room for the night.”

Sam rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she says, already headed inside.

“Won’t your roommates mind?”

“No,” she says. “They have boys over often enough, I don’t think they’ll care.” Dean feels his cheeks start to burn, and he can see Sam start to blush at the careless comparison as well. “You know what I mean!” she says, elbowing him hard in the ribs.

Sam lays a futon out on the floor for him and gives him a stack of sheets before leaving to go through her bedtime routine. He sets up, feeling nostalgic for when they shared rooms as kids. You have to sleep on the floor because you’re younger, Dean would say after setting up the bedding on the ground, and Sam would throw a fit but finally give in, and ultimately Dean would give her the bed because he felt guilty.

Dean looks around the room, running his fingers along the back of the spines of textbooks and picking up picture frames with photos of Sam and people Dean doesn’t know.

Sam finally comes back into the room, dressed in plaid pajama pants and a loose AC/DC t-shirt. She’s so gorgeous that Dean loses his breath for a moment.

“Hey,” she says, shutting the door behind her, and it’s a little awkward now, since they’re alone, awkward like it hasn’t been all night. She bites her lip and pauses like she’s going to say something. It takes her a moment but she finally says, “There’s something I feel like I should tell you.”

“Hm.” He’s completely still, waiting for what she’s going to say.

She takes a deep breath. “Part of the reason I left was to get away from you.”

It feels like a punch in the gut, and he turns away.

“No, Dean, I…” She runs a hand through her hair. “I wanted you in a way that I wasn’t supposed to, so I ran. I ran because I was guilty, and scared. I just thought you should know, before you leave again. So you can know not to come back.”

Dean’s breath stops completely as he takes in her words.

She forces a laugh. “God, it was a mistake inviting you up here tonight when—”

He cuts her off with a kiss. She’s surprised but leans into it almost immediately, the tension melting out of her body. He thought this would feel worse. He thought this would feel gross, and predatory, and wrong. But he can tell how badly she wants him, so it just feels good.

He pulls back, just a little. “I want you too,” he says. “In a way that I’m not supposed to.”

She lets out a short, giddy laugh, and pulls him back in for a kiss.

He sits down on the bed and pulls her onto his lap, their mouths never leaving each other’s. His hand slips up under her shirt to cup her breast, and he’s surprised to note she’s still wearing a snug-fitting sports bra, even in her nightwear. She leans away from him and pushes his hand down.

“You don’t want to…?” he starts to say.

“No, I do. You can touch me anywhere but there.”

He doesn’t really understand but he doesn’t mind because there’s so much more of Sam to explore. He lets his hands roam down her back, across her belly, around the firm curve of her ass. He pulls her shirt off of her and helps her slide out of her pants and she’s here, bare in front of him in just her underwear and so, so beautiful.

“Are you sure?” he whispers, and she nods, hungry. “Okay.”

He flips her over onto her back and takes a moment to pull off his own clothes. He feels self-conscious in a way he’s never been with other girls as he undresses in front of her. When his clothes are off, he crawls over to look down at her. Her eyes are sparkling and happy, the corner of her mouth just barely pulled up in a smile.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes, and now she does smile, fully.

He presses kisses down along her body, along her collarbone and arms and stomach—careful to skip over her still-covered chest, like she asked—and he pulls down her panties, down and off (lacy pink doesn’t seem like Sam’s style, but the thought only registers in his head for a moment).

He kisses her lower stomach, and he feels her gasp lightly, goosebumps rising on her skin. He pushes her legs apart for access and slides his tongue along her folds and up to her clit. She’s wet already.

“Dean,” she moans, and the sound runs straight through him to his rapidly hardening dick. She buries a hand in his hair while his tongue swirls around her clit. She tugs his hair a little bit. “Dean, I want you inside me.”

He slides back up and kisses the corner of her mouth. “Sure, baby.”

“Condoms in the second drawer,” she says, pointing to the nightstand.

He opens the drawer and rifles through it. There’s a couple of dildos, a vibrator, several sizes of butt plugs. “Sammy, you naughty girl. Playing with yourself, huh?”

Her face is in the shadow of his body, but he can still see her blush. She slaps his arm. “Just get the condom, asshole.”

He obeys. Fishes one out, tears open the packaging, slides it on. When he looks back at her, her lips are parted just slightly, her eyes hooded with desire. Fuck, she’s beautiful. She’s everything he’s ever wanted.

He lines himself up with her hole and she uses her hand to help guide him in. He pushes in and she gasps, pressing her head back into the pillow and squeezing her eyes shut. He slides in slow, letting her adjust to his presence inside her. She’s tight and warm and it feels so good it’s almost overwhelming.

Dean stops when he’s all the way in.

She opens her eyes and meets his, bringing up her hand to rest on the side of his face. “This is pretty fucked up, huh?”

Yeah, he wants to say. There’s a part of him insistently reminding him that it’s not too late to stop, to put things back to the way they were. To make their relationship be that of siblings, not whatever the fuck this is.

But he wants this and Sam wants this and he doesn’t want her to feel like a freak for her desires, so he says, “Less fucked up than everything else about our lives,” and she laughs softly before pulling him down for another kiss.

Sam keeps him close as he rocks into her, slow and sensual, and sometimes when he hits just the right spot, she’ll moan against his lips. Their bodies move together with a familiarity that only comes from having known each other their entire lives, though they’ve never known each other like this.

She comes with a moan, and the feeling of Sam clenching around him pushes him over the edge a few seconds later.

“Fuck, Sam,” he says, the pleasure washing over him in waves.

“Dean,” she says, and, breathing hard, she takes his face in both of her hands, watching the pleasure on his face with a satisfied smile.

He pulls out and flops down next to her, lying on his side so he can watch her catch her breath.

She brushes a lock of sweaty hair out of her face and rolls to face him as well. She grins. “God, you’re hot.”

“I know,” he says, and she rolls her eyes. He leans in close and kisses her forehead, the way he’s done since she was a little kid. He thought it would feel weird, a gesture of an older sibling right after sex, but it just feels natural. Like the physical intimacy they’d just shared was simply an extension of the emotional intimacy they’ve had their entire lives.

“Hey,” she says, running her fingers along Dean’s cheek. “I don’t have class tomorrow morning.”

“So...?”

“So you can keep me up tonight,” she says, and she winks at him, an awkward wink closer to a blink, and he laughs at her attempt to be sexy. Her cheeks turn red, but she scowls at him. So cute.

“Okay, I’ll keep you up tonight,” he says, giving her a quick kiss.

And he does, but they spend more time talking than fucking, and he’s so content. He could stay here forever.

* * *

Dean doesn’t call for a year, even though he knows he should. But what is he supposed to say, after a night like that with his own sister?

Finally he works up the nerve.

It’s a short conversation.

Sam is in a committed relationship now. She’s trying harder than ever to distance herself from her past, and Dean doesn’t fit into her new life.

It shouldn’t hurt like it does. Dean is the one who’d put space between them, and she was going to move on eventually. But he still feels hollow, and he doesn’t call her again.

The First Time with Him

Sam is having a breakdown in the motel bathroom and Dean doesn’t know what to do. Dean thinks she was set off by meeting Dean’s old flame Cassie, and Dean doesn’t know how many more times he can assure Sam that Cassie isn’t the one he’s in love with anymore, that Sam is the only person he has eyes for.

“That’s not it,” Sam said, but wouldn’t elaborate any more than that.

“Come on, Sam, just talk to me,” he says, resting his head against the bathroom door. “Please.”

“Give me some space, okay?” she says again.

He sighs, but there’s not much he can do, so he goes out and gets a couple of burgers and comes back. When he enters the motel room, Sam is sitting on the bed in a huge, oversize hoodie and a loose pair of Dean’s jeans, staring at the wall. It’s almost impossible to make out any of her form beneath the clothes. She’s been dressing in super loose, baggy clothes like that more often than not lately, and Dean doesn’t understand.

“Food,” he says.

Sam begrudgingly gets up and sits down at the motel room’s table, helping herself to one of the burgers. She munches on it silently, her red, puffy eyes carefully avoiding Dean’s.

She’d been so much more masculine by the time Dean had broken into her apartment to tell her Dad was missing. Away from her feminine attire and presentation she’d had the previous time they’d met, and back to a short, boyish haircut and masculine outfits that hid her curves. Anyone would see her as a guy at first glance, and probably at second glance too. I just feel more comfortable like this, she’d said, and then it turned out her committed relationship was with a woman. Dean was shocked. Had Sam really been a butch lesbian this whole time? Was what happened between them two years before just a dream?

It didn’t make him any less drawn to her, though. She was still Sam, with her piercing green eyes and sharp intelligence and a level of empathy and kindness that seemed miraculous, given the background she came from. And she was still drawn to him too—their relationship became physical a few weeks into working with each other again.

The closer physical intimacy meant that in the past couple of weeks, Dean has been noticing that some things are seriously off. Sam wears a tight sports bra every time they fuck and refuses to take it off. She barely speaks to him when she’s on her period. Sometimes during what he considers pretty vanilla dirty talk, she shuts off for the night. He chalks it up to hormones, but he knows it’s something more, especially now that she’d had a full breakdown over whatever it is.

“Do you want to talk about it now?” Dean asks, not yet starting in on his burger. He tries to keep his voice gentle and even, to coax her into talking about what’s been bothering her so much.

She sets down her food and pushes it away. She absently taps the table with her finger like she’s trying to decide whether to share what she’s thinking or not. She’s still avoiding looking at Dean, and it’s starting to piss him off that she’s barely acknowledging him.

“Sam, come on,” he says, and his voice comes out harsher than he intends. But he’s tired of her brushing it off and pushing him away when it’s not something that either of them can just ignore. “You can’t just expect me to walk on eggshells around you, hoping that I won’t set you off about something I don’t even understand. Why the hell are you upset?”

Sam shakes her head.

“Come on, man, give me something,” Dean pleads.

Sam swallows. “I’m not who I am, Dean.”

Dean furrows his brow. Sam couldn’t be any more unclear if she tried. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m…” She gestures down at herself. “This isn’t me. It’s not me. I’m not supposed to be like this.”

“Like what?”

“A girl.”

“I don’t get it.”

She takes a long, shaky breath. “I want—I need—to be a man.”

Dean supposes he should be more shocked by her declaration, but Dean has always seen her more as Sam than as a girl. And finding out she feels like a guy… Things just start to click.

All the times Sam had called herself Dean’s brother as a little kid, despite John and Dean’s frequent corrections. Excited chatter about how much she related to the boys in her most recent book. Complaining about not playing soccer at the same time she quit the girls’ soccer team. The complete withdrawal into herself as soon as she hit puberty.

Dean had always figured it was identity confusion because Sam had never had a female role model growing up, but that wasn’t what it was, not really.

And more recently—leaning into anything masculine while distancing herself from femininity. He remembered when a store clerk had called her “sir” the other day, and her face had brightened. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time—it seemed a lot of people mistook Sam as a guy—but it makes sense now why it would make her happy.

“Okay,” he finally says, waiting for her to elaborate.

“‘Okay’?” she asks. “What do you mean, ‘okay’?”

“I guess I don’t understand what this means, exactly.”

“It means…” She sighs, runs a hand through her hair. “I’d be different, Dean. If you were okay with me starting hormones, it would mean I would look different, and sound different, and probably feel and smell different too.”

She laid it all out for him, but he’s still not sure he understands. He has no clue what the changes would look like on Sam specifically. He focuses on the one part of the sentence he did understand. “What do you mean, if I’m okay with it?” he asks. “The Sam I know would never ask permission.”

Sam picks at a fingernail nervously. “I don’t want to lose you,” she says softly.

“You’re not going to lose me, Sam,” Dean tells her. “I’m going to stay with you, I promise.”

“No, Dean, I mean… You’re attracted to women. Just look at Cassie. She was so… And I’m so…” Sam shakes her head as she struggles to find the right words. “I’m going to change and…” Her voice starts to fade as she talks. “You’re not going to want me anymore.”

Dean has no idea what to say. He can’t see any universe where he wouldn’t want Sam. He’s silent for a long moment as he looks at Sam carefully, thinking about what she would look like as a guy. Yes, he loves her body as it is now, the soft curves and smooth skin and feminine moans he pulls from her during sex. So what would it feel like to be with her, if it was different? Stubble and broad shoulders and a dick?

He tilts his head slightly. He’s never sought out guys, never really been interested, but he’d never really been averse to it either. If Sam became a man, Dean’s pretty sure he wouldn’t mind. He would miss some things, but he wouldn’t mind. His attraction to Sam is because she’s Sam, not because she’s a woman.

Sam shifts uncomfortably, his eyes still avoiding Dean’s.

“Hey,” Dean says, and his hand snakes across the table to take Sam’s. “I’m gonna love you no matter what, okay?”

“Yeah, but not like—”

“Yes, like that,” Dean says. “I loved you the way you were when I came to see you in college. I love you the way you are now. I’ll love you no matter what changes you or your body go through, okay?”

Sam’s eyes well up with tears. “Really?” he says softly.

Dean squeezes Sam’s hand and gives him a reassuring smile. “Yeah.”

Sam sniffs. “God, I tell you I feel like a guy and then start crying like a girl.”

Dean stands up and pulls Sam up to his feet too.

“Hey,” he says, taking Sam’s face in his hands and wiping away Sam’s tears with his thumbs. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Dean pulls him into a hug and holds him close while he cries himself out.

Normally they’d look for their next job at the end of a day like today, but they take the night off and talk about where Sam is going to go next. How he’ll get hormones, if he’s going to get surgery, how fast the changes will happen.

Sam gradually starts to open up about it and get more and more excited, and Dean can’t help the warm feeling deep in his core. When Sam is happy, Dean is happy too.

* * *

Dean falls asleep in Sam’s arms that night and only wakes up when the light streaming through the crack in the curtains hits his eyes.

He groans and rolls over so he’s facing Sam. He nudges Sam awake.

“Hey, handsome,” Dean says, and Sam blinks his eyes open sleepily. Sam smiles when he meets Dean’s eyes.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

Dean brushes a messy lock of hair away from Sam’s face. It falls right back into place. “Since you’re a guy now, would it be gay if we fucked?” he asks. He’s excited to try, now that he knows the feminine words to avoid and the masculine words to try out. Now that he knows what will turn Sam off and what might turn him on.

Sam rolls his eyes. “I don’t know, does that bother you?”

“Can’t knock it ’til I’ve tried it,” Dean says. “I’ve always wondered what it’s like to suck a dick.”

Sam raises his eyebrows.

Dean starts to scoot down the bed and looks up at Sam through his eyelashes. “You mind if I give it a try, stud-muffin?”

Sam bites his lip. “Hey, I’d like if you never called me that again, ever.”

“Daddy?”

“Gross, that’s so much worse.”

“Lover boy.”

“Dean.”

“Little brother?”

Sam doesn’t object to that one, so Dean takes it as a green flag. Not a traditional sexual term, but he thinks it’s kind of hot.

While Dean goes down on Sam and listens to Sam’s moans, he realizes this feels right. Sam, a guy. It’s going to take some getting used to, but it fits. Things have changed, but they’re the same; it’s a new chapter, but still the same book.

The Hundredth Time with Him

It’s a few years later, sometime between near-world-ending events, that Dean wakes up in a motel bed with his arm draped over Sam. Dean still likes being the big spoon, no matter that Sam is bigger than Dean now. When Sam started testosterone, he bulked up big time. He’s huge and all muscle, but that doesn’t stop him from snuggling up against Dean.

Dean yawns and strokes his fingers lazily through Sam’s chest hair and Sam hums sleepily. He runs his hand down Sam’s side. Gone are the feminine curves Dean loved about Sam before, smoothed out and adjusted by hormones, but Dean loves the new shape just as much. And ever since the surgery they’d only had to commit light fraud to afford, Dean’s pleased that he can touch Sam’s chest wherever he wants.

Sam rolls over and nuzzles his nose against Dean’s. Dean strokes a thumb along Sam’s jaw, the stubble prickly under the pad of his finger. Dean hadn’t expected so much facial hair growth, but he doesn’t mind it. The scent of Sam’s aftershave turns Dean on just as much as the familiar smell of her vanilla shampoo used to.

“Hey,” Dean says, pressing a light kiss to Sam’s lips. “We should get up.”

“I don’t want to,” Sam mumbles, eyes still closed. He’d been up far past Dean, finishing up on a lead for some research, so Dean doesn’t blame him for wanting to stay in bed.

“Come on. We’ve got work to do. I’ll suck your dick if you come take a shower.”

That seems to do it. Sam groans and rolls out of bed. “Fine.”

Sam is too sleepy to do much himself, but Dean takes his time lathering Sam up with soap, scrubbing him all over his body with a washcloth. Sam is so comfortable in his body now, too, in a way that he never was before. It’s a relief to be able to touch Sam anywhere without Sam turning off or pushing him away.

Dean massages shampoo into Sam’s scalp and grins at the moan it elicits from Sam.

He shuffles around so he’s in front of Sam and gets on his knees, brushing his soaked hair from his eyes. Sam looks down at him through hooded eyes and buries a hand in Dean’s hair. Dean smiles and takes Sam’s dick between his lips, lapping at the tip and water running over it. Sam’s cock is still small, but it’s grown since Sam started hormones, almost an inch and a half long now, sometimes a little more when Sam is hard.

Dean slides two fingers into Sam. He knows Sam’s body almost better than his own, so when he curls his fingers, he finds Sam’s g-spot instantly. “Mm, fuck, Dean,” Sam says, pushing his hips towards Dean.

Dean takes his time, sucking on Sam’s cock and stroking his fingers in Sam, enjoying Sam’s panting and gasps until Sam comes with a moan. Dean feels himself start to get hard as Sam’s pussy clenches around his fingers. Dean runs his tongue along Sam’s cock one more time and then stands up. He meets Sam’s lips with his own. “Worth getting up for?” he murmurs.

“It was… adequate,” Sam says, and Dean punches his shoulder while Sam laughs.

“Last time I ever do anything nice for you,” Dean grumbles.

“Aw, come on,” Sam says, and he tugs Dean in, pressing their bodies close together. Dean leans his forehead against Sam’s and lets out a contented sigh. It crosses Dean’s mind, briefly, how far they’ve come. How far Sam has come.

How everything about Sam is different, except that he’s Sam.

And Sam is all Dean wants.

#wincest #wincest fic #fic #my writing #ftm!sam winchester #fem!sam #first time #pov dean #if anyone is capable with coming up with titles hmu #i tried looking through song lyrics and quotes but nothing hit me #I usually just settle with a small quote from the fic or a one-word theme/summary #it's . terrible I know

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wondersofdreaming · 3 years

Text

Sex on Fire

Co-written with @radaofrivia

Characters: AU Captain Syverson - Gynaecologist, dr. Syverson x female reader

Word count: 4.522

Warnings: NSFW! Smut, so smutty. Gamahuche. Licking. Bodily liquids. Fingering. Sucking. Hair pulling. Begging. And I’m out of whatever else there is, but I’m sure there’s more - let me know and I’ll add them XD

Author’s note: This story was co-written with the always gorgeous and incredible @radaofrivia! She is the Brain to my Pinky! The Barney Rubble to my Fred Flinstone! My goddess Saga and my muse Erato! My drinking buddy and who will stay up till 4am with me to finish this story.

Please go enjoy her stories here:

Rada’s Masterlist

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

*Edit: The title was decided before I realised that it is a song by Kings of Leon. These two have nothing in common except for the title.

MY MASTERLIST

Sex on Fire Masterlist

Feedback is appreciated.

(Credit to original gif owner - if this is yours please contact me so I can give you proper credit)

The grey concrete building stood tall in front of you. You leaned your head back to see the top, but it was nearly impossible. All you could see were windows leading into the sky. A doorman in a black uniform stood by the entrance, watching whoever went in and out. He nodded his head with a stoic look in a greeting.

The lobby looked more welcoming than the outside building. There was a fireplace with three sofas surrounding it and a coffee table stacked with magazines. A few women were already sitting there, gossiping about the new dapper doctor that had rented the entire top floor.

You rolled your eyes and went over to the reception. A man stood to greet you with a smile, but he was talking to someone in his headset, which only took a few seconds before he hung up.

“I am sorry about that, how may I help you, miss?” he asked.

“I’m here for an appointment with dr. Syverson,” you said a little nervously.

“Ah, yes. I have a form you need to fill out,” he handed you a piece of paper and a pen, “The elevators are just right over there. Take it all the way to the 52nd floor. Another receptionist will be there to guide you further.”

You accepted the paper and went for the elevators. A chill went down your spine as the cold air from the air condition hit you. You pressed the button for dr. Syverson’s floor. An orchestral song started playing over the speakers. It wasn’t until you listened closely to the lyrics that you noticed it was ‘Nothing Else Matters’ by Metallica.

You closed your eyes, swaying to the beat of the soft drums. Lars Ulrich had been your celebrity crush as a teen, and you still listened to their older songs when you had a bad day.

The elevator doors opened with a loud ‘ding!’, pulling you out of your trance. Another receptionist stood at the opposite side. She looked up from the computer and smiled.

“Welcome to dr. Syverson’s clinic. Do you need help filling out the paper?” she asked nicely. You quickly scanned what you needed to scribble down. It was mostly your personal information and history of health.

“No, I think I can manage, thank you,” you smiled back.

“You can take a seat in the sofas, and when you’re done just fold it and put it in the mailbox, dr. Syverson will call you in, shortly,” she motioned to a black mailbox by the elevators that you had missed when walking past it.

You nodded and went for the sofas. The room was warm and comfortable with green plants everywhere. The sand-coloured leather sofas were softer than you expected as you sank down. You filled out the form and put it in the box.

Instead of sitting back down, you decided to walk over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and take a look at the impressive view of the city. Your eyes widened at how far you could see, all the way to the ocean, and if you squinted your eyes, you might have been able to see your apartment building, even the bar you had often been frequenting lately.

Dr. Syverson walked out of his office. He stretched his arms above his head, feeling a bit sore from having sat down reading his patients’ charts all afternoon. Now he just needed to check on his last appointment, before he could go home and enjoy an ice-cold beer.

His receptionist was packing her stuff, sending him a kind smile. The perks of working with his sister were that she didn’t try to seduce him, or leave her underwear in his white coat pocket like some of his patients tended to do.

He smiled back and looked around the room. His gaze landing on you. His first thoughts were not ‘oh there’s my patient’, no, his mind went straight to ‘YOWZA!’.

“Last patient for today, Luc. I’ll be leaving now, see you tomorrow,” he heard his sister say to him. She smacked his arm to get his attention. He was pulled back to reality, saying goodbye to her before walking towards you, changing his mindset from dirty to professional.

You gasped when a flock of seagulls flew by, making you take a step back and hit a wall. Except the wall had arms that grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor.

“Whoah, careful there, miss,” a deep rough voice said. You looked up and saw a man with a trimmed beard, a soft smile on his lips, and a mischievous look in his cerulean eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out. You quickly remove yourself from his arms, first now noticing that he was wearing the white coat signalling he was dr. Syverson. And if that didn’t kick your brain in gear, then the name tag on his chest should do it. Dr. Lucas P. Syverson.

“It’s all good. This way, please,” he made sure you followed him to his office. The wall colour changed to a more soothing beige colour and was adorned with colourful paintings. You didn’t notice what they depicted before you stepped closer to one. It was of naked human bodies in various forms and shapes, very fitting for a gynaecologist’s office.

He had various books about his profession, but a few stood out to you. One had a peach on the cover and was written by dr. Syverson himself. You were impressed but wondered about the peach until you saw the title that made you blush deeply.

“How to eat a peach for dummies.”

He motioned for you to sit in the armchair, while he plopped down on the opposite one. He grabbed a chart from his desk and a pen.

“I’ve had a look at your medical history, and the…” Dr. Syverson looked down on the chart, “three gynaecologists that you have been referred to have written that you are in a state of good health. Well, we’ll see about that, I’m not too keen on some of these doctors you’ve had appointments with. They’re as old as Methuselah.”

You let out a peal of laughter. The joke having put you at ease with the doctor, who was smiling as you calmed down from your fit of giggles.

You were a little bit shocked by this doctor. Dr. Syverson was nothing like how you had imagined him. He couldn’t be over 40, with the extended educational schooling he would have had to go through. You remembered having read somewhere that it took at least 12 years to become a gynaecologist.

“Oh my gosh, they were. Another thing they had in common was that they would take a “quick” peek, not caring that I was screaming in pain, and then tell me that I’m healthy as a horse.”

Dr. Syverson sat back; his brow pushed together. You could practically hear the gears turning behind his forehead. He ran a hand through his beard, which made you notice that he wasn’t wearing a ring. If he wasn’t your doctor, you might have asked him on a date. Had you only met him at a bar instead of his office, and not being his patient. Damn it.

“There is definitely an issue we need to figure out here. I want you to know, miss that I plan on solving this mystery. Please, tell me in your own words what you think is wrong?”

You opened your mouth to explain, but all the sentences you thought of were too embarrassing to say out loud.

“Miss, you can say anything here. Nothing leaves these four walls, I promise you,” dr. Syverson tried to make you feel more comfortable with him with his gorgeous smile. His presence alone was putting you at ease. How did he do it?

“It burns when I’m penetrated,” you confessed.

“Penetrated how? During intercourse or masturbation?”

“I haven’t had sex since this happened. I can barely stuff two fingers in there,” you blurted, turning tomato red, confessing something so private to a total stranger, but it felt great to finally say it out loud, like a heavy stone being lifted from your shoulders.

“How about I take a look? Let me see with my own eyes that you’re ‘healthy as a horse’,” he quoted the old men, making you giggle. “You can leave your trousers and underwear on the bench, and have a seat on the table. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The dashing doctor left the room while you removed your clothing. Feeling a little self-conscious, as you walked over to the gynaecologist table with the stirrups and sat between them, trying to cover your private parts with your shirt.

Dr. Syverson came back soon with a variety of scented candles in his arms.

“The smell of something nice usually helps my patients to relax a little,” he explained. He held them up for you to choose.

“This one,” you smiled and handed him the one called Ocean Mist.

“Nice choice, that one is my favourite,” the doctor grinned. He set the lit candle on his desk. The scent of a sandy beach and salty ocean soon filled the room. The doctor pulled the ultrasound machine towards you. You leaned back on the table inhaling deeply, willing your abdominal muscles to relax. The sounds of a guitar reached your ears. You watched as he set a portable speaker on the small table next to you.

“I hope you don’t mind a little music,” he said, smiling, while he put on a pair of bright orange gloves.

“I love Metallica, so please keep it flowing.”

“Can you guess the song I’m playing? Put your legs up here for me,” he patted the stirrups.

You lifted your legs, intensely listening to the instrumental version of the song.

“Is it ‘The Unforgiven’?” you asked.

“Correct, you’re good. This is going to be a little bit cold,” he squirted a large amount of gel on the ultrasound wand. He slowly inserted the rod inside you, pushing ever so gently. “How long have you listened to Metallica?”

You winced at the invasion but tried to keep your muscles from tightening around the smooth object. You didn’t see the set jaw on the gorgeous looking doctor. Your sweet scent was tickling his nose and making his mouth salivate by the thought of tasting you.

“Since I was a teenager. I’ve been to at least one concert per tour they’ve done,” you groaned in pain.

“I’m sorry, your right ovary is a little difficult to find. You’re doing great. Your left ovary is the epitome of health. Are you on any kind of birth control?” he asked casually, trying his best to make you feel safe around him.

“N… no… I…” your voice broke, and tears started streaming down your cheeks. Doctor Lucas quickly removed the wand, cleaned it and sat down next to you.

“It’s okay. Let it all out,” he told you softly. Concern for your well being was painted on his chiselled face.

“It’s just that… I haven’t had sex for years, YEARS doc. No man wants a broken woman, especially not a woman that cannot be penetrated without her screaming in pain.”

You babbled so much you forgot that you were in a gynaecologist’s office and not at a psychologist.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to blurt all that out,” you started to blush a crimson red.

Lucas fought hard not to pull you into his arms. His protective instincts were on high alert; he wanted to make you feel safe, make you feel loved. He was cursing the bastards who had hurt you. To him, women were the stronger sex, had to endure more pain than men. Women are precious, made to birth life, made to give love and be loved.

“It’s quite alright. You’ve had a rough time,” he patted your arm, the safest place to touch you and went to get up. “I’m going to feel around to see if there’s something I’ve missed with the ultrasound. What other bands do you listen to?”

You watched as doctor Syverson slapped on another pair of gloves and squirted a smaller amount of gel on his finger, on his long thick finger. You were practically drooling by watching him prepare to examine you.

“Eh… I listen to a little bit of everything,” you said. You laid back down and draped an arm over your eyes. Watching the handsome doctor working was becoming too much for you. He was stirring feelings inside you that you hadn’t felt in a long time, and not in this form or quantity. You had taken a look at his well-proportioned ass when he walked out earlier, and his black trousers did very little to hide his hefty package.

“I’m sorry, but, again, this is going to be a little cold. What was the last song you listened to?” he warned.

It was an erotic scene, watching him standing between your legs, one hand on your belly, while the other was about to enter your most sacred place. You felt him enter. A soft moan escaped your lips.

Lucas’ ears perked. He hadn’t expected to hear that sound coming from your full lips. Had he heard correctly? The little vibration from you sent a jolt straight to the beast he was trying to keep dormant. This wasn’t the first time a woman had moaned while he examined them, but you were different. Another sweet sound reached his ears. You were so responsive to his touch, so open, so reactive. His mind was racing, but one word kept popping up, more.

You had forgotten how to speak, how to form sentences, how to communicate. You could only feel.

“Miss?”

“Hmm?”

“The last song? You listened to,” he didn’t mean to sound so tense, but he had to distract himself, his treacherous mind, he needed to keep the small-talk going, to break the silence. He wanted to kick himself in the balls for thinking about you, while he was fingers deep inside you. His compassionate instinct was winning over his lust.

Stop it, Lucas! You’re a professional. You cannot mess up! You CAN NOT fuck this up! She needs your help. Lord, give me strength.

“Oh...” you murmured, coming back from whatever universe he had sent you to with his finger technique, “Ehm, before the Metallica song in the elevator, I listened to ‘What’s Your Country Song’ by Thomas Rhett.”

“That’s a great song. I like country music.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed you as a country kinda g… GOD!!!” you gasped as he curled his finger, touching the spot.

You released a louder sinful sound, a sound that hadn’t left your lips in a very long time. Lucas watched as your chest was heaving, gasping for air. The room was suddenly suffocating him. He felt like he was burning up from the inside. His breath was hitched, and he couldn’t form a coherent sentence. Why did you have to sound like desire itself?

“Does it hurt when I do this?” he asked, his voice lowering an octave and reduced to a velvety whisper. He hooked his finger once more, listening intensely to the sounds escaping you.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Your eyes rolled back in your head. You lifted your hips, moving your pelvis closer, needing more friction, needing to feel him deeper inside you.

Fuck!

He was watching you, vehemently. A fire was burning deep in his groin, heck even his eyes were flaming. His shoulders moved fastly up and down as he was heaving in the air through his parted lips, he needed oxygen, he needed to control himself. He was scolding himself for feeling like a horny teenager.

“This is… wrong,” he said in a panic. He moved his hand away from you. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist in a fierce grip.

“Please…” you begged, “please don’t stop. I… I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Please, Lucas… I need you… I need you to finish this.”

He could hear the need in your voice. He could smell your arousal. You were clawing your nails into his skin. The look in your eyes was clear that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. The same eyes were shining with unshed tears, begging him for release, and the sound of his name from your lips was making him so close to breaking his resolve.

“I… can’t… you’re my patient,” he groaned, his forehead showing the concerned lines of wrinkles, which made him look even more desirable.

“Can’t you make an exception? Just this once? Please...”

Lucas ran a gloved hand through his short-cropped hair. He turned away from you, needing support for his shaky legs he leaned against the back of his office chair. He was thinking about it, really thinking about it.

“Please, doll. Don’t test me. I’m standing on the edge, and I’m this close to jumping in with both feet. I can lose my career, and I don’t want you to regret this tomorrow.”

You watched as his shoulders sank. You moved off the examination table, pulling the hem of your shirt down to try to cover your nakedness.

“I’m sorry, dr. Syverson. I… I didn’t mean to put you in such a precarious situation,” your voice was small. Your gaze firmly on the wooden floor beneath your feet, you felt so ashamed to have tried to seduce your gynaecologist, who was only trying to help you. Lucas turned around to the sound of your voice breaking, and a little saddened that you started calling him his title again. Your cheeks flushed, your arms wrapped around yourself. You gathered the courage to move towards your clothes.

“Damn it!” he cursed. He moved towards you with the speed of lightning before you could take a single step. His large muscular frame wrapped around you, your head was laying on his chest, listening to the racing of his heartbeat.

“Say ‘you’re fired’,” he ordered, his voice husky and commanding like some kind of army captain, but it was also desperate. Desperate for you not to leave him. Craving your touch. Desiring, longing, yearning, lusting for you.

Your eyes widened in shock as you processed his words. He heard you gasp as you realised what he was saying.

“Dr. Syverson… you’re fired,” you whispered seductively, although a little shaky too. You watched as the sweet and calm doctor changed before your very eyes.

He clashed his lips with yours in a hungry kiss. He was starving; his only thought was to taste you that was his only goal. Your scent had been making him insane; famished was more correctly described.

While holding you in his arms, he made you move backwards until your bum found the end of the exam table.

His kisses were desperate, and so were you. Your heart felt as if it was about to beat out of your chest. Your breathing was shallow. It was going to happen; it was really going to happen.

He lifted you up and made you sit on the exam table. He parted your legs and went to stand between them. He cupped your face between his warm palms, leaning down to kiss you again. He kissed your jaw and all the way to the shell of your ear.

“Please, don’t regret this,” he whispered and went to touch his forehead against yours.

“I want it, even more than you do,” you answered breathlessly.

With your consent, there was no turning back now.

He devoured your mouth while his hands roamed all over your body. He unbuttoned your blouse while you shoved his white coat to the floor. You pulled at his button-up, buttons were flying everywhere. He shoved your shirt down your shoulders and off your arms before he threw it somewhere behind him. You ran your hands up and down his hairy chest, wanting to feel all of him, not the doctor, but the fine specimen of a man that he was.

He removed your bra with a flick of his fingers. Slowly revealing your breast to him. Your nipples two hard buds, waiting for his mouth to suck, lick, bite, whatever he wanted to do.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered. His voice was desperate, so filled with lust, but also something oh so sweet.

Lucas moved his lips down your collar bone. Feasting on your breast, nibbling at your skin, before he finally went to town with your nipples. With the first touch of his tongue on your left breast, while he pinched the right, you let out a loud guttural sound. Just him playing with your bosom was about to send you over the edge. The coil in your belly was so close to snapping.

“More… Please, Lucas, more,” you whimpered, pushing his head to the place where you needed his mouth the most, right between your thighs.

You heard him chuckle. He gently pushed you down, making sure you were comfortable before he hooked your legs over his shoulders for better access to your glistening desire.

“Fuck…” you mewled. The sight of the mountain man between your legs, the growing bulge in his dark trousers was so erotic you were about to combust. Your sex was on fire.

“Your body is divine, bug. It was made to be worshipped. I want to make the pain go away,” he said softly.

You didn’t get to say a word as his tongue ran along the seam of your wetness, making you shutter from the first contact. His tongue was wide and long, his mouth blowing hot air as he sucked your lower lips gently.

That tongue of his was everywhere, inside you, lavishing you, adoring every centimetre of your flushed skin. You lifted your head to watch him working you into a frenzy, right as he sucked his index finger into his mouth, coating the digit with his saliva.

The pleasure that he was giving you was overwhelming. The moment he pushed his finger inside your womanhood, was like nothing you had felt before. His finger was warm, and it was a whole different feeling than when he was gloved. His tongue darted out to play with the glistening pearl hiding between your lips, sucking in his finger. Your wetness allowed his movements to be smooth and easy, in and out, and he found that spot that made you howl in ecstasy.

“Luc… I’m… I’m so close… FUCK!”

The coil broke, snatched, ripped apart. You weren’t pushed over the edge, you were shoved, hard, and the pleasuring waves kept coming and coming. It felt as if your orgasm was never-ending. You never wanted to come down from that high. It was addictive.

You released your hold of Sy’s head from your thighs, not having noticed you had trapped him. You were panting hard, trying to catch your breath after the tsunami of an orgasm the doctor had given you.

Lucas’ palm covered your cheek, wiping the tears that had fallen from your eyes.

“Did I hurt you, doll?” his face scrunched in concern.

You shook your head, no.

“No… that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced.”

The smile on Lucas’ face was breathtaking. He was beaming with pride. You watched as he leaned back, noticing he was still wearing his trousers. The apparent bulge in his abdominal area looked painful.

You moved to sit up, motioning for him to stand.

“I want to return the favour,” you told him, unzipping his trousers. You were gentle, as the tent grew more extensive, the more you released his manhood from its confinement. You helped him out of his black boxer briefs and came face to face with the finest cock you had ever laid eyes on. You were drooling, licking your lips, dying to taste him.

“You don’t have to, angel,” he groaned as your tongue darted out to taste the precum leaking from the tip, hearing him growl, a sound coming from deep inside him.

“Please let me, Sy,” you pleaded, taking his length in your hand. You looked up to see Lucas nodding slowly. He groaned in acceptance.

You ran your tongue over your palm to lubricate it. Lucas’ eyes widened to the size of teacups. His cock jolting in excitement, his heart skipping a beat at the erotic scene happening right before him.

One hand touched his hips, moving to the small of his back, to have a grip on his ass, pushing him closer to your face. He filled your hand beautifully with his hardness, yet he was still soft to the touch of your palm. You started moving your hand up, slowly, hearing his gasp was turning you on even more than you already were. You smeared the clear precum around the glans with your thumb. Delicately wrapping your mouth around him. Your lips were stretched to max capacity, a voice in the back of your mind was telling you that you had to be careful not to lock your jaws, but then again you had a doctor right in front of you if the situation should happen.

You languidly moved his member further into your warm mouth, coating him with your saliva. Your tongue gliding over the tip. Lucas released a low moan that sent vibrations through his body. He lifted his face towards the ceiling. Your hand left his ass, moving down his thighs, tickling the backside of his knee, before travelling up the inside of his thigh and gently cupping his balls.

“Fuuuuuuck…” he guttered. You sucked the part that could fit in your mouth in synchronicity with your hand’s movement. He felt the tightening deep within his testicles. The hitching in his breath notified you of his coming release. You led his hands to your scalp, letting his fingers fisting your hair, before giving him a sultry look with his cock in your mouth.

He was grunting hard as he set the pace, while you did your best to keep up with him. Moving his hips, chasing his release inside your mouth. You relaxed your throat, letting him take over. You wanted so much to please him.

“Fuck, sunshine… I’m so close,” he growled.

“Come in my mouth,” you uttered. It was like something within him snapped the minute you voiced the words. He moved faster, harder, rougher. Until you felt the first spurts of his seed hitting your palate. You swallowed everything he spilt and then licked him clean.

Sy fumbled with his office chair as he sat down with a satisfied hum and pulled you to sit on his lap.

“That was amazing,” he smiled at you, kissing the tip of your nose, your cheek, the corner of your mouth and lastly a lingering kiss on your reddened lips.

“Glad you approve,” you grinned back, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“About those books,” you pointed towards the books you had peeked at earlier.

“Theses I had to write for med school.”

“Tell me about them while you rest for round two.”

#Henry Cavill #This man #I need a drink #Captain Syverson #Fanfiction #My story #Radaofrivia #Co-written #SMUT #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill x female reader #Henry x reader #Henry x female reader #Sex on Fire

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swimmingleo · 3 years

Text

Harry Styles and Two Loves - A love that dare not speak its name.

‼️Disclaimer I am in no way an English literature expert or student for that matter and can barely organize my thoughts but I’ll try my best. If something doesn’t make sense or is regretful thinking please tell me‼️

Basically Harry is a fervent reader that does not limit himself to Buk*wski and Mur*kami though for some reason he loves to bring up those dudes. Queer literature seems to play a big role when it comes to his inspiration and I love that about his music. A good example is his Shakesqueer Sweet Creature madness. But another one that I hold close to my heart are the parallels he draws with Alfred Douglas’ poem, Two Loves.

Here is the full poem. Give it a read if you can because I won't break it down verse by verse for this post sorry :(

To make it short, the poem is about the narrator (let's say Douglas) wandering in a garden where he meets a young man that turns out to be his lover. For context, Alfred Douglas was very much queer and in a romantic relationship with Oscar Wilde. Both developed their own coded language to express their love and ''sexual tendencies'' through their art (been this way foreverrr will we ever leaarn). However they were not always so sneaky about it and Two Loves in particular was so in your face that it was used against Wilde to prove his homosexuality in trial. He did get away with it this time. Here is his defense. Blueprint of denials. No iPhones at the time.

In Two Loves, two different personifications of love introduce themselves to Douglas and his lover:

The first love is loud and cheerful and sings about pretty women and men that love the said pretty women.

The second love is discreet, almost erased by the other’s presence but is beautiful and draws the attention of the narrator.

Obviously the first love is Heterosexuality, the one that is openly praised by society and the second is Homosexuality who is bullied into silence by Heterosexuality if he tries to speak. The poem ends with Homosexuality saying "I am the love that dare not speak its name." Yeah. And isn’t that the story of H’s career.

HS1 opens with MMITH which ends on "We don’t talk about it, it’s something we don’t do". And from there follows SOTT, "We don’t speak enough". And right after we get the very loud, very explicit and very well documented Carolina. So far the album narration goes "There is something painful going on but we can’t talk about it, I say ‘we’ because there is a you and I and yeeEEAAH THIS GIRL I MET ONCE GETS A WHOLE SONG THE WORLD DESERVES TO KNOW HOW GOOD SHE FEELS FOR A LADDY LAD LIKE ME ALSO HER NAME IS TOWNES YOU CAN CHECK FOR YOURSELF SEE IF SHES REAL I LOVE REAL WOMEN AS IN WOMEN THAT EXIST". Heterosexuality is loud and sings about pretty women right.

But then, THEN we get Two Ghosts. Which is the center piece of this whole post. I mean, the title... Two Ghosts//Two Loves Two hearts in one home ? Sick.

The parallel that hits the most is the physical description that is made of Douglas’ lover and of Homosexuality (which are technically two different characters in the poem).

Douglas’ lover / Homosexuality

Same lips red / Same eyes blue / Same white shirt

Red were his lips / His lips were red / His eyes were clear as crystal / His large eyes were strange with wondrous brightness / White as the snow / His cheeks were wan and white

In Douglas’ poem, it is meant to be understood that the young boy he meets first, his lover, is related to Homosexuality through their physical appearance. Douglas’ love is therefore inherently queer. With Two Ghosts, I’ve always wondered why Harry chose specifically to point out a white shirt as it comes across a bit generic and not really personal yk? But if you compare it to Two Loves, it checks out the recurrent descriptive color scheme: red, blue and white. In both works, red are the lips, blue are the eyes, and white is the ~envelopp. RIGHT. I suppose Harry didn’t feel like describing his lover with pale white skin since it’s brown with lemon over ice when under summer skies so he went with a plain white shirt instead.

I’m not going through a whole analysis of Two Ghosts yet I can safely say that it deals with unspoken words. Not saying things is a recurrent theme in H’s songwriting but within the album, Two Ghosts is the first song that deals with it through the undeniable prism of romantic love. Right before with Carolina, H had no issue being straightforward and wanted to "scream and shout it out", but with Two Ghosts he’s tongue tied and doesn’t say what he really means. Communication issues go on with the following track Sweet Creature, btw may I just:

But oh, Sweet Creature (!), Sweet Creature

Would he […] cry "O sweet creature!", Othello

I cried "Sweet youth…, Two Loves

Queer Literaturry is going wild(e).

Expanding this post with Sweet Creature allows me to speak about the garden metaphor. In lyric poetry, the expression of emotions is often done through nature. It is a process that Harry seems pretty fond of when singing about love (ie Olivia, Adore You, WS, Canyon Moon and Sunflower are good examples) but it’s way more subtle with TG and SC. In Two Ghosts, nature is the moon, and in Sweet Creature it’s the garden.

Would you look at that, Two Loves happens to combine both:

Moon dances over your good side and this was all we used to need, Two Ghosts

Running through the garden oh where nothing bothered us, Sweet Creature

Flowers that were stained with moonlight / Alone in this fair garden, till he came unasked by night, Two Loves

For Harry, the night is where the moon enhances his lover’s beauty, when it’s just the two of them and they need nothing more than each other. The garden is where they run (free?away?), once again alone, unbothered. For Douglas, Homosexuality took form and began to occupy the garden at night, while Heterosexuality who thrives in the golden light (um I- nvm) wasn’t paying attention.

It is also interesting to note that Homosexuality is associated with the night but also with death. And he’s super pale. So like… A ghost ? ANYWAY.

The garden in Two Loves is where love happens, it is a piece of heaven. It’s elevated on a hill and untamed with flowers of various colors growing everywhere. There is sunshine and moonlight, there are "pools that dreamed" and by pools I assume the author means vernal pools which are habitats where flowers grow and oh look over there:

Nice ruffles on that white shirt by the way. Very Victorian.

Two Ghosts, 2017 Mularry so true

So yeah. I don’t want to go into full analysis mode but I find it all interesting. Once again, Two Loves holds a great significance regarding the Oscar Wilde’s lore, and Harry is probably very familiar with anything Wilde related (don’t even start) and by that I think about the Carnation business.

I’ll just conclude with that quote from Maurice by E.M Forster whom I love very much:

"I am an unspeakable of the Oscar Wilde sort."

#song analysis #idk if it has been widely discussed already #ive done a bit of research and i haven't found anything but if you've seen similar posts dont hesitate to pass me the links #anyway first try at this kind of rambling i hope it's ok eek #but really I love this parallel or at least the idea i make of it lol #harry styles #two ghosts #queer inspo #my analysis

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kurinoot · 3 years

Text

care less more

-> his visits are short and are punctuated by the hectic and taciturn. the only thing the budding musician can associate about you is a rebound and the cold, disheveled sheets, and he plans to keep it exactly that way.

pairing: semi x reader

themes and warnings: smut, angst-ish woohoo, cheating, mentions of rough sex, dacryphilia, fingering if u squint

wc: 1.5k

notes: another wip posted woot woot so this piece is my submission for the church of meian’s songfic-themed tune june collab! this song is heavily inspired by olivia o’ brien’s song entitled ‘care less more’ and I HIGHLY suggest that you play it while reading mwehehe. also, thank you so much to @chibi-chanforever, @latrombone, @oneblonded, and @spacesevyn for beta-ing this baby! also, take note that the ones in quoted bold italic are some of the lyrics in the song!

chant: care less more by olivia o’ brien

The distilled moans and wet sounds of skin slapping against skin reverberate throughout the room in a hasty fashion.

“You receive me so well—ugh” you hear Semi groan as his hips continue ramming into your wet, gummy walls, hands clenching at the crumpled sheets and face scrunching at the growing tight sensation welling up against his pistoning cock. Moans effortlessly and wantonly fall out of your lips and fill his ears like a crisp staccato of notes.

He slams his lips against your quivering ones, muffling any possible sounds as he continues to hit your sweet spots. “Oi, you better keep it down low if we don’t want to be found out.” he growls lowly against your lips before pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth.

It has been months ever since he has begun this rendezvous with you, punctuated by crumpled sheets, unregistered phone numbers, and desperate love making.

Except, there’s no love and no strings attached.

You nod at his bequest, trying to ease and soothe yourself at the incessant onslaught of his cock jamming into your core. You run your fingers against his broad chest, instantly clutching them on the expanse of his broad shoulders brimming with sweat as he continues his intense jutting of his hips against yours.

“S-So good, Eita—”

“We don’t use first names here—ngh—I thought—hng—we made it clear last time.”

“I-I’m sorry—ah!”

His hips sharply stutter against you, going harder and harsher at the prospect of his first name ringing against his eardrums. His muscles become more tense, hands tightly gripping your waist as he accepts your half-hearted apology with a rough snap of his hips. It’s no use to him when he knows that you’ll still cry out at his ministrations, so what’s the point?

Might as well fuck you rough anyway while he still has the time.

His breathing becomes more labored and the sweat in his body began falling like droplets of rain. It is no different for you, eyes welling up with more tears and moans slipping out of your sinful mouth ever so carelessly at the rough feel of his dick ramming inside you.

“S-Semi, I—” you choke on your words as his fluttering pace leaves your senses culminating in intense, hot flashes of white.

“Are you going to cum?”

Your muscles and throat tense at the sudden question right while he’s hot-headedly thrusting into the throes of the wet ring of your walls. He has you all whining, toes curling, and creaming beyond comprehension, sweat-riddled fingers digging themselves further into the threshold of his muscle-clad arms.

“Cum for me.”

“You look at me, you see her face. No, you don't like me; I'm just there to hold her place”

Tears have long since stained your face, mixing with eyeliner and mascara to form emotion-riddled trails streaking down your face, which seep into the pillows underneath you, painting you into an inkblot masterpiece

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groans, sharp pupils burning as they fall upon your wide, quivering ones. You’re not stupid; you understand the intentions behind his words, eagerly nodding at his comment.

You mean her? you reply knowingly in the back of your head and accentuating ‘her’ all intentionally, knowing that you’re just a look-alike that he’d willingly fuck in place of his complacent girlfriend. But you shrug it all off because as much as you hate being a placeholder, you can’t help but be content to have this clandestine rendezvous with him. Nevertheless, butterflies violently rattle against your insides at his double-edged words.

“Hope I distract you enough from the girl that you love 'cause I've been doing the same, you're just a boy that I 'ah'”

You’re not clueless to know and understand that he will never see you in a spotlight beyond the platonic boundary, if you can even call this relationship a platonic one. Sure, you already knew what you were getting yourself into, but the sting and longing in your heart only grows more and more as he continues to use you as nothing but a hole to fuck with when he’s bored and unsatisfied with the woman that he treasures and claims is all his.

You can then feel the tips of his fingers as they explore along the side of your waist and then dig further into the deep recesses of your cunt, adding fuel to the fire as he strums and presses along the swollen nub of your bundle of nerves while he continues to push his dick into you.

“Please, please, please,” you whine in desperation, followed by strings of incoherent babbles as your calves tense and clench, ensnaring his hips tighter and closer into yours and probing his cock to inch way deeper into unexplored territory than last time.

Call reality a bitch whenever you want, but this is miles better than only being another fan lost in the sprawling ocean of other fans.

You can’t have him as your other half? Be a VIP Semi Eita cockwarmer then.

Poor girlfriend having no knowledge that he’s drilling another hole besides hers, you lament in your thoughts as he continues drilling into your wet cavern.

“So close!”

He further cements his grip on you, calloused and nimble fingers letting go of your clit as his hips snap erratically, feeling the growing crest of the wave inching him closer to nirvana.

“G-Gonna fucking cum—holy fuck—cumming!” you scream out, the growing wave of your climax nearing its zenith.

“Good. Then fucking do it.”

With the last snap of his hips finally probing your deepest spots, your fingers dig into his steady arms right as he stutters his hips, plunging into you a few more times before you feel the warmth of his cum bleeding through the latex. A stifled, guttural groan twitches out of his throat, with knuckles turning white as his hands clench the sheets tightly from the climax bursting out of the seams of his groin. You break right at his clutch, gushing right against his twitching cock as your entire being becomes sore and flaring in heat afterwards.

Labored breathing and panting envelops the entire room, the smell of sex and sweat emanating from both of you altogether as his head dips right in the crook of your neck in exhaustion. His breath tickling against your sweat-matted skin only leaves you trembling more as your toes curl and your fingers numbly grasp the sheets tightly, hushed whimpers leaving your sore, dry lips.

He stills in for a couple of minutes, hips still stuttering to let his climax subside bit by bit while he tries to regain some energy before he pulls out of your warmth. Your cum continues to gush out of your pussy, the wet ring of muscle still twitching at the loss of contact.

“Why you wasting all of your time laying next to me? If you really wanted it so bad it's where you'd be”

“This never happened.”

His voice, albeit tired, says it firmly, his words empty and emotionless, like he always does after every meeting that you have with him. You wearily nod at his words, uttering a cold “Of course. No biggie,” right before you let yourself drown in the comfort of the thick pillow lying beneath your head and the thin sheets enveloping your body.

Of course you know very well how this entire rendezvous can overthrow his career as a musician if you’re not careful enough. Heck, his entire career and image will be in shambles once even a single speck of mistake exposes him and his illicit affairs with you.

He rests for a couple more minutes, breathing slowly steadying back to normal before you hear him ruffle through the sheets. Your head’s all buried in the comfort of the make-up stained pillow, but you can ascertain that he’s already preparing to leave, judging by the sound of his belt clicking back and the once heap of clothes finding its way back to his tall, unabashed figure.

“Why you wasting all of your time busy texting me? If you don't want what's best for me”

The familiar ringtone of your phone beside you flashes right before your eyes. Your hand flimsily picks up your phone just as you hear the door open and close subsequently with considerable force as you read the message softly.

Semi <3: I’ll text you the next schedule :) and try to be less noisy next time.

You can only laugh dryly at his usual message, the growing crack in your heart only reverberating further as you choke at the oncoming onslaught of tears running through your face once again, but for an entirely different reason. Your chest heaves heavily, breathing in mouthfuls of air in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You swallow the lump in your throat, more tears inching away from your swollen, make-up stained eyes as you realize that you willingly let him into your personal life and then realize further that he’s way beyond bone-deep in you. You reluctantly open his message, numb fingers typing a reply trying to ease the hole in your heart.

You: okay :)

As soon as your thumb hits send, your hand languidly places the phone right back beneath your pillow as your tears finally broke through the dilapidated state of your emotions

You could care less but it was already obvious that you care a lot more than what is expected as you cry out every bit of frustrations into the cold, love-devoid sheets.

taglist (answer this form if you want to be included!): @hqintheclub @kinsurou @rosesandtoshi @anime-nymph @hogwarts--imagines @semisgroupie @kurosukii @bunbyy @wisenerdcreator @hismilkbread @bucinhajime

✖ tune june collab mlist ✖ church of meian collab mlist ✖ my potion rack mlist ✖

#witchy.writes #hqintheclub #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #semi x reader #semi smut #haikyuu fics #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #church of meian #tune june #care less more #tw // cheating

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macaroni-rascal · 3 years

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Waxing poetic idea: virtuosity

First of all, what a concept for a waxing poetic, we love the pun, we love it all. Second of all, I have no idea just how long this has been sitting in my inbox, but better late than never, I suppose!

When I think virtuosity I generally think about music, so for the purposes of this post, I am going to focus on how Virtue and Moir are masters of musicality, as I can make a separate post about their general talent and skating skills.

I truly believe that Tessa and Scott were (and continue to be) the most musically inclined ice dance team ever. It’s nothing new, but Paul MacIntosh their old coach has spoken before saying there as just something natural about them and their ear for music, Tracy Wilson commented on them as juniors and early in senior as a team that really listened to their music and that they used their edges and knee bend to match the rhythm of the dance, etc. It was obvious that this team just had a certain ability and flow that went above and beyond what had been previously seen in the sport.

They were ice dancing to music, not figure skating to background noise.

There was always an impression that music meant a lot to them, and the emotional connection they felt to music was very important, the program they hated the most (Malaguena) was because they didn’t chose it themselves, and the program they had the most trouble with emotionally (The Seasons) was because they also couldn’t form a connection and tried to force something. The stunning thing about Tessa and Scott’s skating is that nothing ever looks forced, it all seems to be placed and done to maximize their ability, the music, and the art of figure skating. So, cmplpete with hyperlinks as well as gif credit, lets get into it.

I say that Valse Triste is one of my favourite free dance of theirs, but I don’t think people get just how much. In terms of how much a song can be elevated by movement, VM did everything correct with Vale Triste.

This perfect moment in the beginning where the music is drawn out and sweeping and so their movements match perfectly, I just love the ina bauer moment right on that first long violin sound, followed by Tessa’s nice deep long edge and then another sweeping movement. Also, the last lift directly on the crescendo of the music, when Tessa raises her hands into the air when the silence holds, and then again, that lovely piece of silence while Tessa is balancing on Scott and his squat. Then the last moment with Scott’s arms and the violin again... All of this matches the music so well, it very much feels like they had this choreographed already, and then Jean Sibelius wrote Valse Triste for them. So stunning.

Umbrellas of Cherbourg was just a piece of mastery in terms of hitting musical highlights. The first lift was so effective, all the of the step sequences were musical and lilting and joyous. I also love the moment in this gif, the abandon in their movements echoes the abandon in the song as Catherine Deneuve sings “je ne peux pas, je ne peux pas” and it really does feel like they can’t help but move this way. I don’t need to understand French to feel it, they made the movement match the music so well that it becomes universal. Special shout out to the fucking stunning backwards inside edge they both hit as they go around the corner. *chefs kiss*

What I also love about their virtuosity and their musicality is that they never really settled. They picked a very difficult piece of music for the Olympic year because it was the only music they felt any connection with. It was a hard program because they really took time to highlight the music, and the accents are quick and staccato. What’s stunning, is that I think anyone who watches/knows vm can perfectly hear the music that should be playing over the gif, and nothing else COULD be playing. So often, especially recently, I watch ice dance programs if feels like any generic music could be on and it wouldn’t change much. Tessa and Scott could never. Every movement and every moment is deliberate and on theme.

Tessa and Scott’s dance holds are a literal thing of beauty and should be studied. That doesn’t have much to do with what I am writing about currently, but I thought it needed to be said. Nights and Days is an all time favourite programs. We love a wango. I love the opening especially and how they go from a nice easy arm movement to two quick poses, then Tessa’s moment with that leg and giving that face, that hit the opening notes so well, only to have the music really begin with their leg kicks.

Let’s talk about how a waltz goes counterclock wise on a dance floor and is quick-quick-slow and Tessa and Scott started their program going counter clock wise around the rink, and having their movement begin slow-quick quick, slow-quick quick...because I’m never not thinking about it

There are so many moments in their free dance to Hip Hip Chin Chin that I desperately love and that I have yet to see gifs of it. Besides the stellar and iconic opening footwork, the coolest twizzles (accenting the drums with their transition into each twizzle), and some very cool lifts (I mean, hello temptation lift), I love the step sequences and the transitions in this program so much. Some favs include:

Tessa’s booty pop to the drums and her arm on “rhythm”

Tossing Scott and a literal hip hip chin chin

Hitting twizzles and free legs on beat

Tessa just in this moment and her arms

The “I can’t resist” moment and the silence as they just pull in on beat, throw their hand up on beat, and hug on the ice sensually

That little kick they do in the step sequence right on the double beat

Anyway, that program is a fucking wonder and the fact they only did it once fully in competition is a small tragedy.

Tessa’s twizzle from the Waltz goes on right on that stunning lick of effervescent music lives rent free in my head and will until I die.

As does the extension and flair Tessa gets in this one small hand and arm movement. More character in this tiny little one second gif of carmen than in the entirety of Davis and White’s Notre-Damn that year, quote me.

Carmen, in and of itself, is so fascinating and intricate from a music standpoint, they hit all the moments so well. Tessa’s second leap into the air on the curve lift, the ending pose for the twizzles, that rad as hell and incredibly difficult transition where Scott all but throws Tessa face first into the ice and she lands in a sort of lunge that took all season to perfect. I could go on.

I truly am, one day, going to make a post about Dream a Little Dream and how it is the best short dance program ever performed. In terms of virtuosity it is unmatched. Again, it is that type of program where you can so easily hear the music playing the background because everything just...fits. I can hear Ella crooning “stars shining bright aboooove you” as Tessa rounds around Scott and his arms flow along with the melody. I also love the moment with “sycamore tree” and the transition there. Shout out also having the solo lady twizzle in the finnstep right on the boom of the music. There are too many moments to count. The whole program is magic.

Another special shout out to the latch step sequences and especially how they changed the diagonal step so that Tessa’s double twizzle hit right on the music and created such a moment. I also love the straight line lift and how with the changes made so it was timed perfectly to be in a moment of silence between lyrics. Tessa and Scott know how to use the moments of silence and stillness just as much as they know how to use the moments of intensity and attack.

Moment of appreciation for the guitar lick during the rumba where they kick in as they get that chocktaw key point before the inside 3-turns. Iconic behavior.

What I love is that they dig deep into their music, really listen, and really try and make their movements and their program not only match the music, but elevate the music to the point where you hear things you maybe didn’t before because it never got highlight in that way before.

I love that they aren’t afraid to not only hit the big, in your face “rooooxaNNE” moment, but it’s that they chose to put it at the end of their twizzle sequence which needs perfect timing, perfect synchronicity, and perfect attack. Not to mention, the amazing head-head moment with the violin right after. But then! It’s not just the end of the twizzle sequence, because they also accent the music every where in between because the first set is on beat to the music as is the second set which leads into their arm transition in character and then we get the big moment. With Tessa and Scott, their musicality is such that they create these little micro pockets of moments amidst one giant moment that is their full program; because the twizzles fit perfectly in the program, but the twizzles also stand alone as their own moment of tension and release -- just magnificent.

Off topic, but gosh it always amazes me just how fast they are going into and through this lift. As I’ve mentioned previously, it’s not just the big accents they are hitting, but the small ones as well. It took me half the season to realize there is a lovely little piano lick right as Tessa backflips and rises up into position, just as the music is rising along with her and once again, it just feels right. No other teams owns the ice and owns their music quite like them. Because it’s not just that they are so musical, its that they have the ability to skate to all of these different types of music, and look at home in every single one. In that, they are objectively unparalleled.

When Tessa and Scott skate, it almost feels like the music is asking them to create something, and is ultimately grateful for them doing so.

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milfjensenackles · 3 years

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castiel’s top 13 taylor swift traxx

1.7k words | read it on ao3

“What’s this?”

Dean looked up at Cas from his desk chair, confusion apparent in his curled lip and furled eyebrows. Cas had stalked into his room a moment before and unceremoniously dropped a small rectangle on the table in front of Dean.

Cas gave Dean a small, close-lipped smile while rubbing his hand over the other repeatedly. “It’s a mixtape. Like the one you made me.”

Dean flipped the mixtape over in his hands to read what Cas had written on it. Apparently Cas was getting a lot of use out of the rainbow pen set Sam bought him last week, because ‘CASTIEL’S TOP 13 TAYLOR TRAXX’ was spelled out in bright purple ink on the front of the tape. Dean smiled at Cas’ loopy handwriting before clearing his throat and asking, “Taylor?”

“Taylor Swift. I know your favorite artist is Led Zeppelin and you shared their music with me, so I wanted to return the favor. Sam taught me how to make the tape.” Cas beamed proudly at this accomplishment.

Dean almost grimaced but caught himself so he wouldn’t disappoint Cas. “That’s great, Cas. Thanks. I’ll check it out later.”

Satisfied with that answer, Cas folded his hands behind his back and left Dean to himself again.

About an hour after Cas left Dean’s room, Dean put down the papers he was looking through for a case to reach for the mixtape again. Dean knew why he made that Led Zeppelin mixtape for Cas, but he didn’t think Cas understood human customs like making a mixtape for someone. His feelings for Castiel had become… complicated, as of late. Dean was terrible at expressing himself, but he’s always been able to understand his feelings a little more through his favorite songs. He recently realized (embarrassingly enough) that he had developed quite a crush on the former angel. He knew that he would explode if he didn’t do something about it, but he didn’t want to ruin their friendship. Thus, ‘Dean’s Top 13 Zepp Traxx’ was born.

The only tape player Dean still had was in the Impala, so he grabbed a jacket and shoved the tape into his pocket. He managed to avoid Sam on his way out, which meant that he avoided having to give a lame excuse for going to sit in his car for thirty minutes or so by himself. He opened the door to the Impala and slid onto the bench before pulling the tape out of his pocket and sliding it into the player. A twangy country beat immediately sounded from the speakers and Dean groaned. How was he going to get through a whole mixtape of just Taylor Swift? She was talented and all, but not Dean’s thing. The things he was willing to do for that angel. He closed his eyes and leaned back to rest his head against the bench, listening as a young girl’s soft voice began to sing.

I like the way you sound in the mornin’

We’re on the phone and without a warning

I realize your laugh is the best sound I have ever heard

Dean sat straight up at that, hitting his head on the roof of the car. He rubbed at the bump forming on his scalp while trying to process the lyrics that were still playing repeatedly in his mind. What did Cas mean by putting this song on a mixtape he made specifically for Dean? Probably nothing, he tried to reason with himself. This is just one of Cas’ favorite songs. It doesn’t have anything to do with Dean. Maybe Cas was trying to tell Dean that he was interested in someone else. Maybe Cas did understand the meaning of Dean’s mixtape and was trying to let him down gently. Dean had apparently been lost in thought for the entirety of the song, because as the final chorus filled the Impala he felt his breath catch in his throat.

Whoa-oh, I’m feeling you baby

Don’t be afraid to jump then fall

Jump then fall into me

Baby, I’m never gonna leave you

Say that you wanna be with me too

As the first song ended, Dean picked up the case the mixtape had been inside to read the names of the songs that Cas had listed on the back. The next one was called Sparks Fly. Dean smiled to himself at that, reminded of the night he and Cas had met in that barn covered with sigils. Sparks had flown, but not for romantic reasons, like Taylor suggested in the song. He guessed Cas probably took the lyrics a little too literally, as he did with most things. This theory of Dean’s was proven to be true, as a song that was apparently called Don’t Blame Me blared loudly, causing Dean to rush to turn the volume down.

And baby, for you, I would fall from grace

Just to touch your face

If you walk away

I’d beg you on my knees to stay

This one was a little too on the nose, Dean thought to himself. Again, he allowed his mind to wander, questioning the reason behind Cas’ decision to put this song on a playlist for Dean. It took quite a bit of effort to make a mixtape, especially nowadays. Dean would know. Cas would have had to painstakingly record the songs that he chose for some particular reason that Dean couldn’t determine so far. He allowed himself to fantasize for a moment that it was Dean that Cas so desperately wanted before shaking himself from his thoughts.

Dean had to admit, these songs weren’t half bad. There was even one about cowboys that was probably his favorite so far. Not that Dean’s biased or anything. The next song faded in softer than the others, which caught Dean’s attention immediately. He focused on the words, leaning forward slightly with his hands folded in his lap.

All these people think love’s for show

But I would die for you in secret

The devil’s in the details, but you got a friend in me

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Dean frowned at these lyrics. Is this how Cas felt about himself? Did Cas really think that he brought only chaos to their lives? Dean supposed that Sam and himself hadn’t really ever said anything to suggest otherwise. He made a mental note to do better about showing his appreciation for Cas. The next few songs played through, and against his better judgment, Dean was starting to really enjoy himself. Before he knew it, the last song was playing, and the tape stuttered to a stop. He sat there quietly for some time after the last note played through the speakers.

He had two options here. He could be a coward, like usual, and let this mixtape thing be forgotten over time as they continue to dance around one another. Or he could confront his friend and potentially destroy their relationship. Eventually, Dean gathered his things and moved back toward the bunker.

Cas was in the kitchen by himself, drinking a cup of coffee out of a mug that said ‘Plant Daddy’ on it. Dean had purchased it for him as a joke when Cas got into gardening, and it immediately became Cas’ favorite. He had his reading glasses on along with an old flannel of Dean’s, which made Dean feel like he was going to explode for reasons he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Dean walked up to him and placed the mixtape on the table, as Cas had done to him only a few hours previously.

“Why did you make me this mixtape, Cas?”

Cas pursed his lips for longer than Dean could handle before taking his glasses off and standing up from the table to move toward the sink. He rinsed out his mug before turning back around to face Dean, bracing himself on the counter behind him.

“I find myself… able to relate to the words she sings, moreso than the artists that might be considered more ‘age appropriate’” – Cas’ hands went up to form finger quotes around the phrase – “for myself. Since becoming human, these new emotions have been very difficult to process. I feel like Taylor understands me. The songs I chose… I picked them because they reminded me of you. That’s what Sam told me humans do when they make a mixtape for someone they care about.”

Dean felt himself freeze. He looked down at the mixtape in his hand for a moment, before looking back at Cas again. He thought back to the tracklist he had already committed to memory. It all came to him at once, the lyrics flooding his brain.

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hands

We’re driving down the road, I wonder if you know

I ain’t gotta tell him I think he knows

Please don’t be in love with someone else

Dean stepped forward, crowding into Castiel’s space. He opened his mouth, and nothing came out. Dean closed his eyes to steel himself, before opening them again and confidently saying, “I’m not in love with someone else, Cas. It’s you. It’s always been you. And I’m sorry if I’m reading the wrong thing into this situation but I – “

Dean was cut off by Cas, who had reached out and grabbed his face before crashing their lips together. Once Dean’s brain caught up to the rest of his body, he started kissing Cas back, pushing the angel into the countertop. This was nothing like Dean’s fantasies, which were always aggressive and usually the result of an argument or a near-death experience. This was achingly slow and sweet with the promise of more.

Cas was the one to pull back to breathe first. Dean followed his lips, wanting more. He would have gladly drowned in Cas. Cas noticed Dean’s eagerness and laughed softly. “I love you too, Dean. I made the mixtape hoping that you would understand what I was trying to tell you. Evidently, it worked.”

This time, Dean was the one to wrap his arms underneath Cas’ to pull him in for another kiss.

After what felt like an eternity, Dean pulled back and smirked, running his hand through Cas’ hair as he spoke. “So… you’d really ‘fall from grace just to touch my face’, huh?”

Cas rolled his eyes, but nonetheless gave Dean an endearing smile. “I already did, Dean. And I’d do it over and over again if it meant I could have this.”

#destiel fic #destiel #deancas #deancas fic #destiel ficlet #dean winchester #castiel #spn fic #lauren writes

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somesaycosmo · 3 years

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laurence, the first vicar - an analysis

hi! this is future marie, when i'm going back through and finalizing my draft of this post. this was originally meant to just be an analysis of laurence's song, but it turned into more than that, so just bear with it!

"oh look it's my favorite boss soundtrack in soulsborne! thankfully, bloodborne is a very simple game with straightforward lore, and the lyrics of its tracks are similarly straightforward, so there's not much to analyze here." -a quote from an alternate universe marie who was blessed with a game that didn't give her frenzy

"bloodborne's tracks have lyrics?" you might ask - and yes, in fact, they do! many of them have choral lyrics in latin, including mr laurence "i forgot the sacred adage" lastname's track here.

before we start, please listen to the song, if only because it's very good

this post is using the translated lyrics from this bloodborne wiki, while taking some liberties with the interpretation based on the game's lore. i do not know latin, but if anyone does, i'd love for them to hit me up. i'm also going to specifically tag @rococospade-main, both to shout them out for being great to discuss bloodborne lore with (it's where i got the idea to write this post)

as always, lore starts below the line

so the song starts with 4 lines, as follows

Children, know that if you will abide by the sacred rite with great commitment There will be a reward through the Holy Blood You will be rewarded with the hidden Holy Blood Or, maybe I shall lose my humanity through the Holy Blood

already starting off strong with the "questioning one's faith" vibes, eh, larry?

"children" might be in reference to actual children, or it might be the thing priests do, where they're called "father" and stuff (can you tell i'm not christian?) with laurence in this case being the "father" and the disciples of the church being his "children"

the reward from the holy blood is, of course, ascension, which we all know everyone from byrgenwerth strived for, because they're losers. "hidden holy blood" might be in reference to ebrietas bein all locked up in the chalice dungeons?

"maybe i shall lose my humanity through the holy blood" is, based on how early it is in the song, likely about laurence looking forward; loss of humanity is seen as a good thing, because it means ascension. the dramatic irony of this is of course obvious, considering the song plays when we're beating the shit out of laurence's fallen and bestial form - because loss of humanity can also mean other things, it turns out.

We honor you with the Blood Yet you judge this as blasphemy You are obsessed with this mystery And you shall be overcome by bestiality

We honor you with the Blood Yet you judge this as blasphemy We are hindered by this mystery Water does not achieve success

now laurence is speaking to the gods instead of to his followers. "we honor you with blood / yet you judge this as blasphemy" is likely him pleading to the gods. the description of the defiled chalice reads, "Curses are caused by inciting the anger of the Great Ones, and used to hex others." this paints a picture of the gods as somewhat vengeful; it makes sense that the beastly scourge, then, would be hypothesized to be a plague cast upon humanity for some sin they've committed, and laurence would know best what exactly that sin is.

"you are obsessed with this mystery / and you shall be overcome by bestiality" seems out of place in the rest of this section, given it's the only one that refers to humanity as "you," but i've taken this as it being the gods replying to laurence in the song, with the mystery likely being "how to ascend to godhood". this is the blasphemy you have committed, they say, and you shall be overcome by bestiality

"we are hindered by this mystery" once again, we're talking from laurence's perspective. firstly, laurence for the first time admits that obsession with ascension might not be so great, actually.

"water does not achieve success" this could be interpreted as talking about the whole "great bodies of water are often bulwarks" thing discussed in the lake and sea runes, laurence sort of saying "protecting ourselves from the truth does nothing to help us ascend," with water, effectively, being "safety." to go further, in my personal interpretation, this is more about the comparison of blood and water. you know that old saying, "blood is thicker than water"? that came to mind immediately while reading these lyrics, given the constant talking about blood in the song (and in the game). perhaps here laurence is comparing water to blood with water, water being "safety" and blood being "success" (ascension). to reference the item description for the white church set, "They believe that medicine is not a means of treatment but rather a method for research, and that some knowledge can only be obtained by exposing oneself to sickness." this will come up later.

By the Gods, friend Be afraid By the Gods, friend The Blood Be afraid You are right to

this is familiar! this could be willem speaking, this could be laurence speaking to someone else, or this could be laurence speaking to himself (my writer's brain imagines him muttering this quietly to himself in despair as his mental health and questioning of his faith declines) - due to "you are right to [fear the blood]," i lean towards him talking to himself as if talking to willem, perhaps wishing he had actually feared the old blood, or saying that willem is better off for doing so. regardless, it is incredibly reminiscent of the sacred adage ("fear the old blood" etc etc we all know it by heart at this point), and is likely supposed to be that.

It will be a majestic festivity By the Holy Blood So come, this sweet wine O defiled juice (this has to mean "wine" or "drink" i refuse to believe laurence would refer to the holy blood as a juice. i will not allow it)

this one, oddly, seems to indicate a toneshift - i would argue it's a result of his spiraling mental state. throughout the song he's questioning his faith and his actions, chanting his old mentor's sacred adage to himself; his life up to this point is a life of success while the cure and path to ascension he was peddling to yharnam turns them into horrific beasts. so he ends up doubling down on the religious fervor he started this endeavor with. this delves more into headcanon territory, so bear with me for a second:

have you ever thought about why laurence drops the beast's embrace rune?

laurence, the first vicar, the first cleric beast, drops the rune that allows you to enter a state of controlled beasthood whenever you want (provided you use a beastly weapon, of course). isn't that odd? shouldn't he drop something that, like, increases the amount blood vials heal you? maybe super duper extra special communion +6? why would he drop that rune, of all things, especially when the game already has a named character they could've put in to drop it (that being irreverent izzy)?

let's look at the item description.

After the repeated experiments in controlling the scourge of beasts, the gentle "Embrace" rune was discovered.

When its implementation failed, the "Embrace" became a forbidden rune, but this knowledge became a foundation of the Healing Church.

now i am not necessarily going to suggest that laurence dreamed up the beast's embrace rune himself - it could make sense, but that isn't necessary for the rest of what i'm about to say, which is this: the last part of the song is laurence giving into beasthood voluntarily.

perhaps he believed so strongly in the blood of ebrietas taking him to ascension that he decided beasthood must be it, must be the next step for humanity; perhaps, in a final move of desperation, he tried to control beasthood by experimenting on himself with this rune; or perhaps he had already imbibed so much of the old blood that he couldn't control his need to spill the blood of others.

personally, i lean toward the second interpretation. let's look at the description of laurence's (human) skull:

Skull of Laurence, first vicar of the Healing Church. In reality he became the first cleric beast, and his human skull only exists within the Nightmare.

The skull is a symbol of Laurence's past, and what he failed to protect. He is destined to seek his skull, but even if he found it, it could never restore his memories.

firstly, i'd just like to point out the irony in the statement "he is destined to seek his skull"; he spends his human life seeking ascension, and when he achieves metamorphosis, he is cursed to spend that form trying to find his humanity again, mindless, lost in a nightmare.

secondly, and more to the point, let's look at the line "a symbol of laurence's past, and what he failed to protect." examining this item for its symbolism is fairly clear - it's a relic of laurence's humanity, and that's exactly what he failed to protect, the humanity of himself and others. this description leads me to believe he wanted to protect humanity, but failed.

a lot of interpretations of him have him as this truly evil person who was just deceiving the city of yharnam for his own personal gain, but honestly, i don't buy that. that's not what bloodborne is about. i mean bloodborne is and can be about a lot of things, and i could ascribe dozens of basic thematic interpretations of it off the top of my head, but characterization that simple doesn't fit bloodborne (and, frankly, it's not tragic enough for miyazaki).

so, with all that combined, why do i believe that laurence branded himself with beast's embrace in an attempt to further research on the control of beasthood, so as to protect humanity? well, to go back to an item description from earlier, some knowledge can only be obtained by exposing oneself to sickness.

thank you for reading.

#bloodborne #bloodborne lore #laurence the first vicar #that one post that's like catholicism is problematic but catholicism is sexy #song analysis?? i guess??#lore analysis definitely

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kaylorrehabcenter · 3 years

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Rating Every Song on Fearless Based on How Gay it is

Hello friends! I still have a few song analyses in the pipeline (and one on Lover the album) but today in honor of Fearless (Taylor’s Edition) being announced and Love Story being released in a few hours I thought I’d do something fun to celebrate!

And you know what? Fuck my usual disclaimer, I am the word of god here. Try and change my mind about any of these. I dare you. (I kid I kid this isn’t that serious and you’re free to disagree <3)

1. Fearless 15/10

Everything about this song is so fucking gay oh my god. This isn’t a fruit, this is a whole ass edible arrangement. As a small rural town Gay (my hometown has a population of less that 4,000 and where I’m living now has a population of 2,500) this uh. Hits.

“And I don't know how it gets better than this/You take my hand and drag me head first, fearless”

Y’ALL

The idea of falling in love with someone who makes you less afraid of your homophobic small town…….it’s getting to me.

“My hands shake, I'm not usually this way but/You pull me in and I'm a little more brave/It's the first kiss, it's flawless, really something/It's fearless”

This is making me emotional, I'll be honest. I see so much of my friends and my experience in high school in this song.

This quote I found on genius is from when the album was released on BMR’s website.

“When I wrote ‘Fearless,’ I wasn’t dating anyone. I wasn’t even in the beginning stages of dating anybody. I really was all by myself out on tour and I got this idea for a song about the best first date. I think sometimes when you’re writing love songs, you don’t write them about what you’re going through at the moment, you write about what you wish you had. So, this song is about the best first date I haven’t had yet.”

This just screams baby Tay writing gay folklore to me, about the gay stories she wish she had. Notice how there are no pronouns in this song??? Fruity I’m telling you.

All that to say. I’m crying because the linear note says “I loved you before I met you” and I want to go listen to Long Story Short and cry now.

2. Fifteen 1/10

Objectively pretty straight as she’s singing about her and Abigail’s dating boys in HS. And Taylor got with a senior guy. Good for her I suppose.

Unless he was one of the shitty ones in which case.

“This is life before you know who you're gonna be”

This however, is a cute line and the whole song makes me warm and nostalgic. You can also hear her crying after the line “and Abigail gave everything she had to a boy who changed his mind” which makes me emo and I’m sure will take on new depth after Abigail’s divorce and hurt me even more.

Other highlights that make me sob include.

“When all you wanted was to be wanted/Wish you could go back and tell yourself what you know now/Back then I swore I was gonna marry him someday/But I realized some bigger dreams of mine”

Bigger dreams of hers indeed :’)

(Also how can you say she’s a gold star lesbian when this song exists. She was obviously dating boys in high school and even if you think she’s a lesbian. Comp het is a hell of a drug kids.)

3. Love Story 8/10

Tried to change the ending indeed.

This is THE Taylor Swift song, and maybe it’s the nostalgia talking but damn I still love it. Written because she wanted to change the ending of Romeo and Juliet (how anyone likes RandJ enough to want to rewrite I have no clue.) and/or because her parents didn’t approve of a guy she was seeing. (according to genius, it would’ve been too early for Joe J so it could possibly be Boys Like Girls frontman, his image did clash with hers and they did release some cute songs together. However if you want my take it’s probably folklore about Emily, take for what you will)

This song has very oft gay vibes with the ‘They don’t approve of our love angle!’ but uses male pronouns so points redacted for that. HOWEVER this is a very early use of ~the male perspective~ in Taylor’s songs and for that it deserves all the love.

“ So I sneak out to the garden to see you/We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew/So close your eyes/Escape this town for a little while”

More rural town angst!!!

Nothing gets me more than rural town angst.

“Romeo, save me, they're trying to tell me how to feel/This love is difficult, but it's real”

Originally the lyric was “this love is different”. Granted I do not remember the source, i’s just lore implanted into my brain, but make of that what you will.

“"Marry me, Juliet, you'll never have to be alone/I love you, and that's all I really know/I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress/It's a love story, baby, just say "Yes"”

Marry me Juliet from the male perspective :)

Also worth noting. This is Karlie’s (and Kim K’s lmao) favorite Taylor song which. While basic as hell. Makes this cover sad as hell to this former Kaylor. (thanks @swiftgron-get-married for the tears <3)

Also not to make this about a man AGAIN but the secret message is “Some day I’ll find this” AND SHE DID IM CRYING.

4. Hey Stephen 1/10

The one thing Camilla Cabello and I have in common is loving this song, so I have to live with that for the rest of my life.

This song is very painfully straight.

How can you think this woman is a gold star lesbian.

The only noteworthy thing is that this is one of the few songs she confirms who it’s about. The secret message is “Love and Theft” which is the name of a country music duo who went on to open her Fearless tour. Which, does make me side eye this song a little bit.

Still a cute song.

“Hey Stephen, boy, you might have me believing/I don't always have to be alone”

5. White Horse 1/10

Oh look. It’s track five.

You know maybe this is just me being a bitch but in my ranking of track fives this is. Pretty low. Maybe on the bottom.

Like I don’t have a lot to say about it.

She’s going through it over a guy. He was a cheating dickweazel.

“'Cause I'm not your princess, this ain't a fairytale/I'm gonna find someone someday/Who might actually treat me well”

“Try and catch me now, oh/It's too late/To catch me now”

These lines hit though!!

And she found Joe!! Who treats her well!!!! And she isn’t the princess, she’s the prince who dropped her sword and knocked on her door!!! But this time if they come for them she’s ready!!!

Yes I will make every song about Long Story Short <3

6. You Belong With Me 5/10

Ah yes. The other THE Taylor Swift song.

You know. If I went to a high school with a cheerleading squad. And I had a crush on a cheerleader. I would blast this song. So for that it gets a 5/10. Otherwise. Fairly straight and fairly iconic.

7. Breathe 8/10

Well. We know this one is about a woman. (Emily Poe for those not in the know. Ha. A rhyme!) That alone has an 8/10. And it’s the first time she has a featured artist so bonus points for that!

It was nominated for a Grammy and it fucking lost to Jason Mraz. When’s the last time you thought about Jason Mraz.

I will not have Kaylor feels on a fucking Fearless song but damn is it VERY easy.

“Never a clean break, no one here to save me/You're the only thing I know like the back of my hand”

“It's 2 A.M, feeling like I just lost a friend/Hope you know it's not easy, easy for me”

Also this bridge? Goes off. HIGHLY underrated.

8. Tell Me Why 3/10

You know. Maybe this album isn’t as gay as I once thought.

This song does bop though, not as good as her other angry songs on this album. But I can vibe with this you know. Why are you being an asshole mysterious man.

“You could write a book on how to ruin someone's perfect day”

This has to be one of baby Tay’s best burns. Damn.

“Why do you have to make me feel small/So you can feel whole inside?/Why do you have to put down my dreams/So you're the only thing on my mind?”

Men ain’t shit kids. However, bonus points for the shade.

9. You’re not Sorry 1/10

Ok, ok. Maybe this was a foolish endeavor.

Because yet again we have a very straight song. A good song. That was on Taylor’s episode of CSI. But oh dear. Very straight. Gets a measly one point. We started this post off so very very gay but damn. We seem to be nearing the end on a very straight note.

10. The Way I Loved You 20/10

Hey Remember what I said about this album being very straight.

WELL THAT WAS A LIE.

Is this a comphet album or am I projecting.

This is one of my favorite baby gay Taylor songs. Her masterful use of pronouns (he is sensible! And so incredible! And all my single friends are jealous! But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain, when it was two am and I was cursing your name!) makes the other person she’s singing about completely vague, while we know she isn’t happy with whichever guy she’s dating.

Mayhaps an early reaction to PRomances?

Either way this song is so good, truly an underrated gay gem I mean. Look at it.

“Breaking down and coming undone/It's a roller coaster kind of rush/And I never knew I could feel that much/And that's the way I loved you”

AND THE BRIDGE. Do all of her gay songs just have kickass bridges?

“He can't see the smile I'm faking/And my heart's not breaking/'Cause I'm not feeling anything at all/And you were wild and crazy/Just so frustrating/Intoxicating, complicated/Got away by some mistake and now…”

Damn. I’m imaging this with 2020 vocals and fucking ascending.

Also please watch the live performance of it from the Fearless tour. It’s such a damn shame this got cut from the movie and some woman in the front row is wearing a cowboy hat. Everyone is holding up those cameras everyone had to have before smartphones. Taylor is being endearing. It’s a good time.

11. Forever and Always 6/10

Bonus points for the ~drama~ of it all. Added last minute to the album? The iconic throwing of the chair in live performances?? All of it very dramatique and for that we stan.

Still pretty straight.

Also Joe Jonas responded to the song and why do I find his response so damn funny. “It’s part of being a musician, I guess. You write songs about each other.”

This is another song where the idea of Taylor’s grown up vocals on this is………..whew

12. The Best Day 0/10

This gets zero points because it’s about her literal mom.

Still makes me cry.

God bless Andrea Swift indeed

13. Change 13/10

We start the official tracklist with a gay song. We end it with a gay song.

We will ignore that it was originally written for Scott and BMR and instead induct it into the hall of gay pride anthems, as it should be.

“We're getting stronger now, finding things they never found/They might be bigger but we're faster and never scared/You can walk away, say we don't need this/But there's something in your eyes says we can beat this”

“This revolution, the time will come/For us to finally win/And we'll sing hallelujah, we'll sing hallelujah”

The music video is cringe though lol

14. Jump then Fall 10/10

This song is gay because I choose it to be. <3

Like. Picture baby Taylor writing this song and playing it on her guitar to a girl she has a crush on telling her that she’ll protect her and they’ll be safe and in love and happy together. Gah, maybe I’m ~projecting~ but this sweet ass song always gets me and is EASILY in my top five Taylor songs. Super underrated and hecking cute.

“We're on the phone and without a warning/I realize your laugh is the best sound/I have ever heard”

Like. Look at this shit.

“I watch you talk, you didn't notice/I hear the words but all I can think is/We should be together”

Tell me this is about the first time you get a crush on a girl and she’s your best friend and she’s amazing and beautiful and you realize you kinda want to kiss her and you hope she wants to kiss you too.

“I had time to think it oh, over/And all I can say is come closer/Take a deep breath and jump then fall into me”

And she’s the Romeo who's going to protect her!!!!! She’s the knight in shining armor in this song and I love that for her??

“The bottom's gonna drop out from under our feet/I'll catch you, I'll catch you/When people say things that bring you to your knees/I'll catch you/The time is gonna come when you're so mad you could cry/But I'll hold you through the night until you smile”

I won’t divulge into full on analysis here because. This is what this post is about but PLEASE listen to this song more. It’s such a gay little gem.

15. Untouchable 9/10

How does she make a cover sound gay.

It sounds so gay.

“You got to come on, come on, say that we'll be together/Come on, come on, little taste of heaven”

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay

16. Forever and Always Piano Version 1/10

This song gets 1/10 because I don’t like it. There. I said it.

17. Come in With the Rain 3/10

I can see why this is a bonus track. It doesn’t hit me as much as the other songs on the album.

But damn if I don’t want to scream sing this one driving down a high way.

18. Superstar 7/10

You can’t tell me this song is about a man. I simply won’t entertain the idea.

You cannot prove to me that this song is about a man. There is not a male pronoun in sight.

>:)

19. The Other Side of the Door 6/10

Is this song about having a fight about being in the closet? Probably not. Will my gay little brain make it about that? Yep!

And that, funky little queer pals, is my gay rating of every Fearless song. Like and subscribe, #t3atmidnight

#long post //#fearless the album #gaylor #what do i tag this for it to show up for peope??#gay rating

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viastro · 4 years

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how to flirt | kwon soonyoung

ミ★ synopsis: in which you teach your best friend how to flirt, but all soonyoung knows is gross pick up lines.

ミ★ genre: best friends!au, humor, fluff, hint of angst at the end

ミ★ warnings: none !

ミ★ word count: 1,674

ミ★ pairings: soonyoung x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi! i felt bad for like... only writing angst in the last few oneshots i’ve put out, so i hope this chaos filled one makes up for it !! even tho there’s a hint of angst at the end !! omg who am i? i used to only write fluff and crack, now i’m a whore for angst... my god. also i got this prompt from tiktok hehe

“Please help me.”

“No.”

“Bruh…” You give Soonyoung a look, before turning back to your physics homework. He lets out a whine, grasping your arm and shaking it. “Yn, please! You’re the only one who’s gone on a date-”

“I don’t think the one with Vernon counts because we were only pretending to be on a date in order to spy on Joshua and Jeonghan.” Soonyoung squints at you, before continuing.

“If you love me, you’ll help teach me how to flirt with the cute cashier at the coffee shop.”

“I feel like that’s not my job, even if I do love you.” You respond, and Soonyoung whines even louder beside you. He rolls onto your kitchen floor, closing his eyes and letting out loud sighs to try and convince you. Shrugging, you go back to your science homework.

Soonyoung opens an eye to peek at you, only to be offended by the fact that you’re peacefully doing your homework as he lays on your floor in misery. He sits up, now shooting death glares at you. You turn and glance at him, letting out a chuckle.

“Oh? Sleeping beauty finally woke up from his beauty sleep on my kitchen floor?” Soonyoung reaches out and slaps your leg softly, making you giggle and kick his shoulder.

“Let me do my homework and then I’ll help you, okay?” His expression turns from a pout to a big smile as he stands up off the floor. He wraps his arms around you, giving you a big hug. “Aye…”

“Thank you yn! I’ll be waiting on your couch!” Soonyoung sings cheerfully before skipping out of the kitchen and into your living room. You shake your head, chuckling at his antics, before going back to thermodynamics.

“Okay, so what’s the first thing you know when it comes to flirting?” You ask, reaching over to the table to take a chip. Soonyoung lifts a hand to his chin, showing that he’s really thinking of what he knows in an attempt to impress you. “I know that nice guys don’t finish last.”

You blink, before letting out a sigh and patting his back, “I’ll give you that.”

“Anything else?”

“If I knew anything else than I wouldn’t be sitting here asking you to help me.” You squint at Soonyoung, and he immediately changes his expression to one that doesn’t make him look like a smartass.

“Ignoring that, but the first thing you wanna do is start off a conversation. You can either compliment them, mention how nice they look.” Soonyoung nods, his expression incredibly focused on every word you’re saying. You fight back a smile at how ridiculous he is before continuing.

“If they seem flattered and look as if they want to continue the conversation, then green means go. However, if they seem uncomfortable and not interested then back off Kwon Soonyoung.” You say with a glare, and your friend noticeably gulps nervously, making you grin at the power you hold. You lean back, straightening out your shirt. “Okay, that’s it.”

“THAT’S IT?!”

“That’s basically it. If green means go, then introduce yourself properly and get to know them. If they’re uninterested, then that’s it buddy. We must respect people.” Soonyoung nods his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Can we practice?”

“Pardon?”

“Like,” Soonyoung turns to face you, grasping your hands and giving you an earnest look. “Can we pretend that you’re the girl from the coffee shop?” You let out a sigh, muttering how badly you’d rather not do that. Peeking over at him, you see him giving you the puppy dog eyes.

“God, fine. Stupid puppy dog eyes.” Soonyoung claps his hands in victory, before thinking of what to start off with.

“Oh wait!” You raise an eyebrow at your friend, “Can I do pickup lines?”

You stare at Soonyoung, pursing your lips as you realize that he truly has not flirted once. Yet for some reason, everyone in school has a huge ass crush on him. Letting out another sigh you answer, “Only if they’re creative and actually good. Let me hear some and I’ll tell you whether you can say it or not.”

Soonyoung pumps his arm in the air excitedly, flashing you a big smile. You softly grin back at him, finding that he looks best when he’s happy. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, before opening them and staring directly at you with a determined look on his face.

“Are you from Tenness-”

“No.” Soonyoung looks taken aback at your abrupt response, and you just shake your head at him. He lets out a breath, before trying again.

“Did you fall from heav-”

“No.”

“Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got fine-”

“No.”

“Yn! You have to let me get all the way through so that you can actually critique them properly.” Soonyoung whines, and you lean back onto the couch, letting out a sigh. “These are all gross, overdone, pickup lines that will absolutely not work. Give me unique ones.”

Soonyoung thinks to himself, before sporting a big smile once again when he remembers one that he learned. He stands up and walks past the couch, before walking back towards you again.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he grins when he realizes he finally found one you don’t know. He leans forward so that your noses are inches from each other, and you stare directly into his eyes.

“Or should I walk by again?”

“Or should I walk by again...” You say at the same time, Soonyoung trailing off, now a lot more discouraged. He leans back, now standing at his full height again, frowning at you. He thinks to himself again, and you grab the bowl of potato chips from the table, getting comfy when you realize he’s not going to give up anytime soon.

“If you were a fruit-”

“No.”

“If you were a Transformer-”

“No.”

“Feel my shirt, you know what it’s made of?”

“Absolutely not.”

Soonyoung backtracks, looking at you with a hopeful look on his face, but you shake your head. “I mean absolutely not to the whole pickup line in general, not me answering it.”

Soonyoung sighs, sitting down beside you on the couch, thinking even harder now. The two of you sit in silence, the sound of you chewing the potato chips filling the quiet void of your apartment as Soonyoung tries to remember the pickup lines he took two hours learning the day prior. He lets out a small, aha!, once he recalls a few other ones.

“My love for you is like diarrhea-”

“God, no. Absolutely not.”

“We’re not socks, but I think we’d make a great pair.”

“Not bad.” Soonyoung grins, pumping the air in tiny font as he considers that a small victory before beginning again.

“It’s a good thing I have my library card, because I’m totally checking you out.”

“Jesus Christ, no Soonyoung.”

“Aside from being sexy-”

“Don’t finish that.”

“Been around the world don’t speak the language, but your booty don’t need explaining. All I really need to understand is, will you talk dirty to me?” You stare at Soonyoung, a look of both disgust and genuine concern displayed on your face as he gives you a proud smile.

“D-did you… did you just quote a lyric from a Jason Derulo song?”

“Yeah! Did you like it?” You close your eyes, genuinely wondering how Soonyoung looked at all of these pickup lines and thought they were okay.

“So, you are absolutely not doing pickup lines when you see the coffee shop girl next time. You’re going to compliment her like a good guy who does not use gross, overused pickup lines. Got it?” Soonyoung pouts at you, before nodding.

“Alright, pretend I’m her. Try and win me over.” He purses his lips, covering his face with his hands once he starts to feel nervous. You smile, letting your head rest on your hand as you wait. Soonyoung finally looks into your eyes and gives you a grin.

“Hi, I just wanted to tell you that you’re really beautiful, and that your smile really brightens up my day. Whenever you smile at me, I feel like nothing could go wrong.” Soonyoung tells you honestly, causing you to break eye contact due to the warmth flooding your face. You rub the back of your neck, “That was good. T-that was really nice Soonie.”

He gives you a smile, “Really?”

You nod your head, standing up off your couch to signal that it’s time for you to get ready for bed. “Maybe you don’t need to add the last sentence though. The first one where you mention her smile is really sweet on its own.”

“Oh that wasn’t a compliment for her.” Soonyoung says, standing up as well and stretching his arms over his head. You raise an eyebrow at him, and he turns, giving you a soft smile. “It was for you.”

Your eyes widen slightly, more heat rushing to your face and you look away again. Soonyoung grins, before wrapping his arms around you, cradling your head like he always does when he hugs you. You slowly wrap your arms around his waist, closing your eyes as you take in his comforting scent.

“Thank you for helping me yn, I’ll tell you how it goes tomorrow.” He pulls away, and you give him a small smile.

“Of course! You have to text me right after alright? Not a second late, I’ll be waiting.” Soonyoung laughs, putting his flannel on and giving you a thumbs up as the two of you walk out of your living room. He waves bye to you, and you smile and wave back. Once you hear the sound of your apartment door closing, your smile slowly drops from your face. You place a hand over your heart, feeling the wave of sadness finally hit you at full blast.

“She’s one lucky girl to have you pining after her, Soonyoung.”

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alaricstories · 4 years

Text

How some BNHA girls is your secret admirer!

Request: Hey! I know you just made the "How some BNHA boys is your secret admirer!" (and I love it!!!) So- if you have time- I just wanted to request that with some girls? (Momo, Mina, and Jirou - Best girls!!) And have fun with it of course!

Thank you so much @ilovemha06 for this lovely request!

Of course! I loved to write those about the boys! I got to it as soon as I saw it. It took some time, but I tried to make it worth it. I hope this is what you asked for hehe- Anything else on your mind- I will try to write it!

YAOYOROZU MOMO

(You love reading in this- Momo is one of mah girls! I love books and I can just picturing her doing this!)

You were almost at the end of your book series, "The Raven Cycle." (Beautiful series, by the way!) You drowned in the incredible writing. The storyline just sucked you up. You wanted to know the end!

As you waited to come close to the end of the book, you realized the time. 02.21 A.M! You had school tomorrow! You threw the book out of your grip and forgot to mark the place you left your eyes. How stupid of you-

The next day you couldn't stop talking about how stupid you were for leaving that spot. You slammed your hand in your head a few times before Jirou had to make you stop. It was not the first time you had forgot- but that's too embarrassing to say out loud.

Probably the whole class heard you, and you had some teasing her and there. But you didn't want to stop reading, you wanted to continue where you left- but then you had to look. That takes to much energy!

You decide to place the book on the table in your room. Just leave it there for a while. But the feeling of curiosity with a hint of guilt building up in your stomach, you couldn't shake it away.

You stared at the book on the shelf and took it out eventually. You opened the book. Starting at a random page close to the end, you began to read.

Suddenly you hear the sound of something sliding down the papers. As you look down, you see this paper note almost leaving the book.

You quickly put a finger in between and open the page. The note said, "I think from your description, you left here?".

You scan the page as you remember you left it in the middle, yes. You began to read the feeling of curiosity becoming too overwhelming. You needed to know the end!

The satisfying sound left your breath as you told your friends about it. That went about for a long time; reading and receiving notes in the books your reading. Compliments and sweet nothings were left on the notes. You loved it!

Suddenly Momo stands in front of your door, handing out a book for you. "Lady in the Lake" by Laura Lippman. The book you had wanted to buy for a long time. You could never repay her for this! Or so you thought-

You opened the book on page one, seeing a note sticking in front of the text. No way! Same handwriting, same pen color- there's no way?! You could feel the romance in your body rice as you read the question:

"Will you meet me outside of the school? 6.30 P.M.

- Momo Yaoyorozu."

ASHIDO MINA

(You love musicals in this one hehe-)

You had watched different musicals with your mother when you were little. You wanted to watch them over and over and hooked on them you were! You loved the way the songs fit perfectly into the storyline, and you played the songs over and over again.

You can't decide which was better at this point; the music, the dancing, or the storyline! You loved it all!

Class 1-A didn't understand why? Some of them liked it, some not. But you couldn't stop the feeling of rushing music through your veins. You wanted to be in one musical!

You had a somewhat good voice, but you were to shy to show it to people. Your dancing was decent but could have some improvement. Your acting was awful tho! The only thing you were good at was smile and act very happy.

So you could imagine the look you made when you find a musical movie laying in front of your door. You hadn't watched this one yet, and now you got the chance- but you checked with the class that it didn't belong to anyone, you borrowed it. Secret?

More starting to pop up now and then with small hearts and love quotes on them. Either with a red marker or a note taped. Not Sero's tape tho so it couldn't be him.

You realized that the movies that were brought to you, was never asked for or you hadn't watched it. Now you did mention the few movies you hadn't watched, to some people- so you had removed some from your "Who is it?" list.

You couldn't point out who it was so they were good at hiding it from you.

The last movie that was at your door didn't have a disk. Just a note inside that said, "Follow the movies first word on the back!".

Outside. Outside? Were you supposed to go outside now? You did end up going out tho. Looking around, you found an umbrella at the front gate. You didn't think much of it until you saw another further away. You followed.

The shock and the heat in your body hit you as you watched the scene in front of you. Four of your classmates spread up the umbrellas they had and spelled a sentence painted in white.

Mina stood there in the middle with a lot of flowers in her hands. She walked up to you wearing the outfit of Gene Kelly in your favorite musical, "Singin' in the rain."

She took your hand as you read that the umbrellas spelled:

"You" ... "Me" ... "Lunch" ... "Together?"

JIRO KIYOKA

MUSICAAAAAA!

You had always had a passion for music. You loved it! More you liked producing it! The beat and the bass was your ground, what made you love this so much. You just wanted to blast anything away with high bass!

Many knew that, and you had taught some people the basics in making music on your own. Starting learning from using stuff at home to an app on the computer, it was easy learning away.

Soon after teaching, you had received a small plastic CD-disk with a love note on it? You meant it was that, but maybe it was a part of the song lyrics?

"Music speaks what cannot be expressed. Soothes the mind and gives it rest, heals a heart, and makes it whole, flows from heaven to the soul. Just like you, Y/n."

A love note. Who would make you this, sneak into your room, and then leave just to make some love to your heart? A Person who knew what they were doing.

Their music taste was flawless! Beautiful bass sounds and guitar play as it reminded you of a sunflower field. The summer flavor and the warm weather was perfect in a way you never knew was possible.

You wanted more, and you got more. More soundtracks with more quotes and small love confessions on them, you craved for it. Music to your ears, literally!

The thought never crossed your mind that this looked a lot like a secret admirer. Ashido had to get your ass to work to find out who it was. You were just a nervous wreck whenever she mentioned it.

You already had a crush, you didn't want to hurt the admirer's feelings if it turned out to not be the same person. It could be the same- IT COULD BE THE FRICKING SAME PERSON!!!

You didn't come out of your room for a few minutes as you tried to calm down the blood rushing through your existing veins. What the heck were you supposed to do?!

You freaked out, not wanting to look anyone in their eyes.

Then your door opened slowly. It was Kiyoka. She sat next to your body, looking down while laughing at your situation. She had known about your love for her for a while now. So the reason she did this was to try and return those feelings in a rocky, romantic way.

It worked tho. Cause the face you made after she said her sentence was clear, for her that the plan had worked out perfectly.

"Do you want to listen to my tracks again?"

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wild-aloof-rebel · 3 years

Note

I feel bad asking you to find lost fics all the time when I cant remember the names. Do you have any search tips that will help me be better at finding them myself so I dont have to bother you

you don't have to feel bad about asking me for help! but i do know that sometimes my response times can be pretty slow, in which case you could almost certainly find it faster on your own, lol. so here are some suggestions

to start, learn how to properly search ao3. i've got a short walkthrough here for how to use filters on a tag (if you don't already know how to do that), which is the way you want to search. (you do NOT want to search through the search bar—that's only for if you want to look for a particular title or author, which in this case you presumably don't know.) i usually start with just one or two things that i think are likely to be tagged and then narrow or widen the search from there as needed. for this ask yesterday for instance, i went into the d/p tag and then filtered it by the episode tag for housewarming. even though there's plenty of other info in the ask that i could have tried, maybe the making out or jealousy tags, those are harder to guess whether people will actually tag them. most people do tag relevant eps though, so that's why i chose to start there.

i usually start with just tags, but if that doesn't bring it up, i'll switch to using the search within results option at the bottom of the filters (sometimes in combo with tags, sometimes not). it's important to know that that search box only searches within tags, summaries, and author notes—it does not search the full text of a fic. if you remember a piece of dialogue for instance, searching for it there is not going to help you. (we'll come back to what you can do then.) but if you were looking for a fic about housewarming and didn't find it in the tag, you might put housewarming in the search within results box instead and try that, in case they mentioned in their notes that it's a coda to that ep but didn't tag it. it's also good if you're like, i think the title was based on a taylor swift song. authors wouldn't generally tag taylor swift in that instance, but most people DO mention in the notes what their titles are from, if they're lyrics or quotes or whatever. so you could put taylor swift in the search within results box and see what comes up.

if you can't find what you're looking for with any of those options, it's time to expand outside of ao3 and do a site specific search in google (or your preferred search engine). let's say, like this ask, what you remember about a fic is that patrick helps david open rosewood. there's no tag for rosewood, and if you put it in the search within results box, nothing comes up in the d/p tag. so then you should open google and type in site:archiveofourown.org schitt's creek rosewood and hit search. the first portion of those search terms restricts your search to only results from ao3, and then you can put whatever you want to actually search for after that. you'll have to click through the results to look at each individual fic and see if it's what you're thinking of or not (usually this is were i would do a ctrl+f and search for rosewood within the fic—be sure to tell it to show the entire work first, if it's a chaptered fic—to quickly find how rosewood plays into each story), and in this case, the fic we're looking for is not the first result that i get but it IS a fic that's on the first page of results. this is also a good way to search for dialogue, if that's what you remember. you can try it both in quotes if you think you remember it exactly or not if you think you're just close. it's not an infallible process of course, and you might have to do multiple searches with different terms to try to find what you want, but it's a good option for when you can't find what you need from ao3

#patience is the other key #sometimes it takes a variety of searches to get what you want #anon #replies

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quarantined-with-bucky · 4 years

Text

I Was Good To You

Bucky x Reader

Words: ~ 4,000 (lol sorry)

Summary: You were good to Bucky

Warnings: Angst

A/N: I really love the song “you were good to me” by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler (actually they have a lot of good songs, together and separately). But I felt like this song needs to be read from the opposite perspective literally every time I hear it, hence this fic. It’s a little different than what I have written so far, so I hope you still enjoy it! I put some of the original lyrics in the fic as quote-block format; it’s mostly in the reader’s POV and I’m sorry in advance for having to do Bucky like this – it just fits the song.

...

It was a fairly new relationship. And while you and he were both equally cautious about taking said new relationship too fast, it couldn’t be helped that the two of you were inseparable. From the day you met, he had been invested in you – your life. He claims it was because he was frozen for so long; because he didn’t know how to live “normally” in the twenty-first century. He went from World War II to Hydra to today. While that made perfect sense to you, a part of you always wondered if it was something more. Sure, Bucky had never had the chance to (and likely will never the chance to) live mundanely. He won’t ever work a 9 to 5 job, he won’t spend nights cooking and washing dishes, he won’t be doing lawn maintenance, working on a dingey car, or grocery shopping (and then forgetting your grocery list at home). You thought that he may have attached himself so quickly to you so he could partly experience the normalcy of civilian life. Not that you were complaining.

He often spent nights at your house, sleeping in your too-small bed, sitting on your countertop, and lounging on your loveseat. Waking up next to him was heaven. If you weren’t securely wrapped in his arms, head laying on his bulky torso, then he was using your chest as a pillow, the weight of him almost making it impossible to breathe. But that extra weight was calming; he may have even been the weighted blanket that has been sitting in your Amazon cart for well over four months. You’d wake up from an uninterrupted night of bliss, fingers running through his long hair, Bucky refusing to get up until you promised pancakes.

But then, three months into it, he left. Its not like he had a choice, you reminded yourself, its his job. And you were well aware of it – he made you aware of it. He told you he would be gone for three weeks. And that’s fine; you could spare less than a month of your life for the good of the rest of the world? It felt almost selfish to think that way. He wasn’t yours; he had to save the world, he belonged to the world – to himself.

So, you tried to keep yourself busy to distract yourself. But there really wasn’t much to do; hobbies you once enjoyed felt exhaustive and boring. The issue is you used to do everything with him: eat, work, eat, shower, sleep. Now it’s eat alone, work alone, eat alone, shower alone, sleep alone; each task a glaring reminder how desolate it was.

Floating, but I feel like I’m dying

Your routine felt like nothing – it just felt empty, the way that it lacked conversation, playfulness, fun, it lacked him. Nothing, in fact, felt real. You walked around the neighborhood and it felt like a fever dream, like you were gliding along the sidewalks. Not a single thought roamed through your mind, just the absence of what used to be. The days always went by painstakingly slow, but every Friday night you wondered how the week had gone by so quickly.

Your friends invited you out on the weekend, and while you mostly said no, they made sure to drag you out a couple times. The company was honestly welcome, it just felt like an empty effort to get dressed up and go to the bar when you really would rather be there (or home – in bed) with someone else. But by the time your friends got you in a routine to go out, Bucky came back home to you.

Months went by while the two of you were attached at the hip, smiles never leaving either of your mouths.

You woke up one morning to a heavy figure sprawled across half of your naked body. Yawning and trying your best to inhale a breath with his chest laying directly on top of yours, you flexed your arms and legs straight out, cracking a few joints that had been overused just a few hours ago. Bucky’s eyes popped open, his blue iris’s peering into your own. He rubbed an eye-booger away with the palm of his hand and started off the morning with “I have to leave tonight.”

You were confused and you knew he could read it on your face. “No good morning?” You joked haphazardly, trying your best not to blurt out every thought racing across your mind at that moment – the main one being what the fuck?

“’M sorry, baby,” he mumbled, still half asleep, pushing his face into the corner of your neck, planting a wet kiss to your shoulder, then your collarbone, then your jaw.

“How long do you think you’ll be gone for?” Your fingers traced up and down his back, nicking on the scratches you left last night; nearly healed but you knew they were there.

He hummed and lifted his head to press a kiss to your lips. “Couple weeks.” Another kiss. “I’m not sure.” That being said, you didn’t bring it up again. It was better to spend the day binging pancakes and watching movies in bed than discussing it any further.

I know it’s easier to run

After everything I’ve done

It was finally time for him to leave. After all your distraction kisses didn’t work. As soon as the clock hit 8:00 pm, he stood, despite you feigning sleep beside him. He leaned over you on the bed and held a head to your cheek, then pushed the hair from your face. You opened your eyes, holding his hand in yours. He stood there for a moment that felt like an eternity, just watching each other with sad eyes. “I wish I could stay,” he murmured.

You nodded, unable to find your voice. As he straightened back up, you stood next to him, pulling a shirt on and following him to the door. After opening the door, he cupped your face with both his hands and pulled you close to him. “See you soon, okay, doll?” If this was his best reassurance tactic, it wasn’t very good. You met his mouth in an open-mouthed kiss, tongues swiping over each other, exchanging the words you couldn’t find earlier. Slowly, he kissed you back, releasing a long breath as he pulled away.

And then you did it.

“I love you.”

And then you regretted it.

He stared back at you, eyes scanning over the whole of your face: faltering smile, eyebrows drawn together, eyes suddenly glazed with worry.

“Goodbye, (Y/N).”

He turned and shut the door without looking back or saying another word. He really left. He really ran away.

Tears welled up into your eyes. Like that morning, the only thought you could process: what the fuck? albeit, this time, it was a little angrier than before. What did that mean? You immediately assumed he was done with you. But the more you laid on your bed, sobbing your eyes out into your pillow, the more that didn’t make sense. There’s no way he wanted to breakup with you – he was so happy before he left. Maybe he just didn’t love you? Maybe he loved you but he just wasn’t ready to say it? And honestly, knowing Bucky, it was most likely the last option. He enjoyed spending every waking moment with you doing the most absolute boring tasks; you don’t just suffer like that if you don’t love that person.

Then again, despite agreeing to take this relationship slow, he surely did not have a problem basically moving into your house and sleeping with you (which you would’ve assumed to be a much greater step than saying “I love you,” considering he was from 1917 where usually the order is reversed).

All that worrying seemed to be in vain. He returned to you no later than 13 days after.

You pulled open to your front door only to find a sheepish-looking Bucky on the other side. His hands were tucked into his pockets, shoulders shrugged unusually high as he stared directly at the ground. But as soon as that door swung open and he saw you standing bewildered on the other side, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you off the ground against his chest. He hummed softly into your collarbone, “I missed you.”

And suddenly your heart began beating out of your chest. You hands found his hair and you gently untangled the knots, while you shut your eyes and breathed in his earthy scent. So, you’d been right: Bucky was just weird. You didn’t want to relive that scene from two weeks ago, instead opting to relax in his arms. “I missed you, too.”

Growing, but I’m just growing tired

Now I’m worried for my soul

And I’m still scared of growing old

As time went on, him leaving became more frequent. You couldn’t help the fact that they were getting a lot of new leads. Honestly, you couldn’t be more grateful to have Bucky. Not only is he the light of your life, but invariantly the same for everyone else in the world. His job was to protect people and you couldn’t imagine the world if he wasn’t off doing what he did so well. But they became more frequent and longer. Lately, it had felt like the two of you had spent more time apart than together.

Laying on the couch, his cheek resting atop of your chest, his torso and hips nestled between your legs, you broke the calm silence. “So next Friday’s my birthday,” you mumbled.

He chuckles in response, tilting his head up to meet your gaze. “Is this your way of reminding me to get you a gift? Because don’t worry, doll, I already got you something.” He winked and set his cheek back to his original position, softly shutting his eyes as you curled a lock of his hair around your finger.

“No,” you giggle back, rolling your eyes to yourself. “I want to take a trip. I think we should get away for the weekend.” You released the strand of hair, instead running your hand over the back of his neck. “What do you think?”

He sits up immediately, no disregard for your hands, and shakes his head. “(Y/N), you know that I can’t. What if they need me and I’m not here?”

You bite your lip, quickly searching for something to say. And what you blurt out actually happens to be the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. “Aren’t there like a million Avengers? I think you can take one weekend off.”

Now he rolls his eyes and scoffs. “(Y/N), you can’t be serious. You know it doesn’t work like that.” And at this point, you’re not sure if he’s talking about the Avengers not working like that or if your relationship doesn’t work like that – after all, he still never said “I love you” back. Not when he came home that time, not when he left for the next mission, not for your one-year anniversary, and not after the fact he realized that date occurred while he was away on work.

“I know, but – ”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts, his tone harsh. “But no.” The way his jaw sets and eyes narrow at you doesn’t make you think he’s very sorry.

Staring back at him, you nod, getting up from the couch before he can see the tears well up in your eyes (for the record, he saw them). “I’m tired, Buck. Goodnight.” And with that, you scurried off to your bedroom. You locked the door and fell onto the bed, silently letting the tears fall down your cheeks. You buried your face into your pillow, throwing his against the wall, the smell of your bed – that smelled like him – pissing you off beyond belief.

Was this going to be your life? Constantly leaving, never saying “I love you” when everything he does clearly shows that he’s in love with you. There as a point in your life when you thought men were confusing. But, damn, James Barnes is a whole new story.

He clearly got the message that he’d be sleeping on the couch that night. He didn’t disturb you for the rest of the night – he didn’t even try. Could he hear you sobbing in your room? You could only assume yes. But that clearly didn’t make a difference to him.

But that’s okay. You’ve learned how to console yourself, how to calm yourself down during a panic attack, how to make the tears stop on your own.

That would become your reality. Would that be your future? Bucky talked about the future – quite a lot, actually, especially for being the one who won’t say “I love you.” He wanted to settle down, he wanted the future that was taken away from him years ago: to eventually settle down, raise little babies, grow old with you. He surely liked to talk about it, but never show it. There had to be some way he could ask Steve to take a weekend off. If he was reluctant to do it now, would he ever? Or would you just live in the shadows of his life, tying down the house alone, raising babies alone, growing old alone.

The next morning, you woke up to Bucky next to you in bed. He stroked your hair until you opened your eyes (that you could only assumed were swollen and red). He had apologized for the night before, pleaded for you to understand, and even gave you your birthday gift early. While you decided to forgive him, for the sake of the universe, you still couldn’t bury the hatchet completely. You weren’t going to show it, but what you were thinking about was important, and dammit you were justified in asking yourself those questions. (Even more justified to ask him those questions, but it was just never the right time).

And I’m so used to letting go

But I don’t want to be alone

One day, months later, your grandfather had passed away. It came as quite a shock, and it took you a few hours to even process the fact that he was gone. You’d been through countless calls with other family members and friends checking in on you. And while everyone meant well, every call resulted with you in a rush to hang-up, falling into a fit of sobs as you ended each call.

He had basically raised you since you were born and the fact that he had been ripped away from you so suddenly had burned you even more. Despite how sad you were, however, you had to be glad that you were able to fall apart in Bucky’s arms. Holding you tightly, reassuring you yet never telling you you’re overreacting. As someone who had been around loss his whole life, he definitely understood and thought it best to let you express your feelings earnestly.

That’s why, when Steve Rogers called his phone later that night, you couldn’t help but express your feelings very earnestly.

“Bucky, no, you’re not going.” You were sitting up in bed, in the middle of the night, darkness swallowing the room as Bucky stood to dress, not even bothering to turn on the lamp beside him.

“(Y/N), I have to. Please, don’t make this hard, baby.” His hand reached out to touch your cheek if only for a moment before he continued to dress and gather his things.

Tears fell down your cheeks freely, your voice coming out cracked as you begged him once more. It might have been pitiful, from his eyes, you’d assume. You were only one step away from looking like a sobbing toddler making grabby hands at her favorite toy. “Please, Bucky. You can’t leave me alone right now.” A sob rips through your throat and you nearly scream. “I’m always alone. I don’t want to be alone right now.”

You’d done the research: there were at least 12 Avengers nowadays. You didn’t know who was in what galaxy, but you were positive that one of them could take his place. Its not like he even really had superpowers. He was basically an enhanced man – plus they already had one of those? Surely, he could be spared this time around.

He shakes his head but sits down to pull you in his arms. “Baby, please. You can’t do this to me.”

And it takes everything in your whole being to not scoff. Do this to him? What exactly are you doing to him? Oh, just something he does to you on the weekly basis. You swallow your tears and shove him away. You don’t know what made you pull a complete 180, but it did finally feel good to get some things off your chest that had been plaguing your mind recently. “You always leave. I’m used to it.”

He opens his mouth to speak. Nothing comes out. He watches you pull the covers over yourself and turn away from him. He closes his mouth and leaves the room.

God only knows where our fears go

Hearts I’ve broke, now my tears flow

You’ll see that I’m sorry

Cause you were good to me

It was the post-mission jitters. The remnants of the adrenaline from earlier that day still coursed through his veins as he paced back and forth around the jet, eagerly anticipating his return to you.

“What’s up yours?” Sam asks, eyes narrowed at Bucky, clearly in confusion but also in annoyance.

Bucky stops in his tracks, eyes wide, feeling as though he had been invisible for the whole plane ride. He shrugs, and as Sam raises an eyebrow, he offers an explanation: “I’ve gotta see (Y/N).”

A grin breaks out on Sam’s face. He falls back in his chair, throws a hand over his heart and pretends to faint. “Oh, you have to see your lover. I’m Bucky, I’m so in love,” he mimics in a high-pitched voice.

Where Bucky normally would threaten to beat Sam to within an inch of his life, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything. He stood, staring at Sam’s hideous imitation of himself – he swears his heart stopped beating. “Yes, exactly.”

Sam chokes and stutters a “what?” before Steve interrupts them from the cockpit.

“We’re landing, guys. Buck, grab a seat.” So, Bucky does exactly what he’s told, plopping himself into the seat across from Sam, ignoring all the questions and comments from the man across from him.

God, he mentally kicks himself. It’s been almost two years. Two years you let him treat you like that. Now, while Bucky doesn’t think he’s done anything outwardly wrong and had obviously never purposely tried to hurt you, maybe he could’ve been a little better regarding work. Maybe he could’ve taken that weekend off with you.

You really consumed his whole life. His thoughts were constantly about you (mostly sweet and innocent, sometimes dirty), he constantly wanted to be by you, talking, laughing, touching.

He made up his mind before the plane even lands. The last mission is over, and new – personal – one begins.

He leaves the complex, stopping by the florist to buy the biggest bouquet of roses he can get his hands on. A grin is itching at his mouth as he anticipates your reaction during the rest of his drive. His heart is racing – in a good way. In a way he hasn’t felt in, well, forever. His confidence is at an all-time high as he’s never felt surer of himself in his life.

He’s already planned it out. You’ll open the door and he’ll scoop you up in his arms, hand you the flowers, and finally say “I love you.” He doesn’t know what took him so long anyway.

And now I’m closing every door

Cause I’m sick of wanting more

You know he didn’t get to decide when he left and for how long he’d be gone.

But he did get to decide his priorities. And honestly, you weren’t even sure if you were one of them anymore.

You were torn because you know how much his work means to him. Not only was it his calling, but it was something he thought was important to use his good work as a means to make up for all the bad things he’s done in the past. And while you’ve told him multiple times that that’s definitely not how it works, nothing will change his logic. So, you’ve stood by him; if it was important to him, it was important to you. Of course, you wanted to see your boyfriend exceed, feel fulfilled.

Now, you were just tired of seeing Bucky like that when it cost you everything. He was your everything. You had a job, yes, a home, a family. But the one person you were supposed to be with – actually be with – didn’t value you the same as his job. And thinking that to yourself just has to be the worst, most necessary wake-up call you need.

That was all you needed. You sat at your desk with a pen and a piece of paper. You couldn’t even think of an opening line for about two hours. Sitting there, chewing the inside of your cheek, you wrote countless paragraphs, scrapping some, keeping others, adjusting sentences, trying not to sound too mean – then having to start over because your teardrops fell onto the paper and smudged the ink.

All in all, it took you two days to write him the note – note turned letter. You folded it in three, left it on his pillow. As you placed it down, you broke out in tears. Falling to your knees, you shoved your face into the mattress, wailing into the sheets one last time. It remarkably still smelled of Bucky’s soap; probably just god handing you one more gut-wrenching blow.

You’d spent the night on the couch, unable to bear the sight of that letter or the smell of those blankets. The next morning, you tried to keep your head as clear as possible. No breakfast (no more pancakes with Bucky), no music (no reminders of your song), no phone (no messages from Bucky). It was time to leave. Time to leave this house, this life, this relationship. You’d quickly shoved a few bags full of clothes and necessities and threw them in the back of your car, not looking back. Just like he did after you’d told him you loved him.

Swear I’m different than before

I won’t hurt you anymore

Cause you were good to me

He practically skips up the steps. Knocking first, he rocks up and down on his tip-toes unable to contain his excitement anymore. Not getting an immediate response, he knocks again.

It would make sense that you weren’t home if it was work hours, but it was 7:00 pm. Bucky was thrown-off; you’d be at home eating dinner right now. Chalking it off to maybe you were in the bathtub, he digs around in his pocket for the key. Pushing the door open, he cautiously looks around the kitchen, then the dining room and living room, unable to find you. The bathroom was empty, and you hadn’t responded to him calling your name, echoing throughout the house.

He pulled out his phone while carefully kicking the bedroom door open with his foot. Straight to voicemail. Voicemailbox full. He tosses the roses beside him on the bed and sits on the edge, nearly ready to go searching again before a piece of paper catches his eye.

His heart drops.

It sinks.

There’s not a time in his whole one-hundred-year existence that he’d felt this much anticipation and fear.

He grabs the letter with shaking hands, carefully unfolding it and his eyes are fixated on the date you’d scribbled at the top of the page. Two months ago.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #fanfiction #angst #bucky barnes angst #captain america #bucky x you #bucky fanfic

275 notes · View notes

romaxnogersav · 4 years

Text

Missing you

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: angst, heartbreak, a curse word or two

Word count: 2931

Summary: He hurt you, even though he promised he wouldn’t. He had also been missing you, but so had you.

A/N: This was written for @captain-rogers-beard One Hit Wonder challenge. Thank you for letting me participate, Mimi. This is my second entry, and I really hope you like it. My prompt was Missing you by John Waite. The song lyrics are in bold. It’s both sang, and quoted in this story. English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes! Also, this is an AU, it doesn’t follow the MCU!

Enjoy 💫

also, gif isn’t mine!

The apartment was silent, vacant. It had been like that for some time now. Gone were the laughs and peaceful nights you spent on the couch, curled up under his arm. Gone were the mornings you woke up in your warm bed next to him, or to an already made breakfast.

Gone was the man, that once said he loved you. The same man that time and time again said how much he wanted to be with you. He was the same man that told you that even though he loved you, he couldn't. Not because he didn't want to, but because his heart was longing to be with someone else, he wanted something else.

Steve Rogers was that man. The man that loved unconditionally, cared, and respected deeply. The man that you thought would never turn up to be like the others you've been with before. You were oh so very wrong.

Three months ago, Steve Rogers had broken your heart by breaking what you had, so he could go back to his old love, maybe his only love - Peggy Carter.

You should have seen it coming, maybe you kind of did. When Steve had come home that night, there had been something different about him, about his demeanor. You had brushed it off at first, but that gut feeling and the nasty voice in the back of your head told you something was definitely going to happen, and it did.

Steve had sat down on the couch, hunched forward, and asked for you to come to sit with him. Then with a sigh, he had told you what was wrong. Peggy Carter had come back to the US from London a few weeks ago, and Steve? He couldn't forget the love he had for her, he wanted to try again. With glassy eyes and a dozen apologies, he had told you one last time that he did love you, and walked out the door. Steve, who promised you he'd do his damn best not to let anything hurt you, promised he would never hurt you.

It had been three months since that Wednesday in late March. The first couple of weeks were the hardest. So many different things were swirling in your head. You had tried to pin the blame on yourself even. Maybe you hadn't been enough? Maybe you were his second choice and you always will be.

You had sulked for some time, much to Natasha's disappointment. You had blamed him, yourself, even the ever perfect Peggy Carter. You had cried yourself to sleep, refused to go out, leave your bed even. Thank God for your friends though. They had let you be for a week, only because you had asked for space, but after the first week, they had enough. Natasha, Wanda, and her brother Pietro had waltzed into your apartment and pulled you from your bed. They had sent you to take a shower, while they cleaned the apartment. When you had gotten out, much to your amusement both Bucky and Sam, Steve's closest friends, was there as well. They had brought food, a few movies, and a couple board games for you to play.

You were surprised that both Bucky and Sam were on your side in all of this. They were in your corner fully. Both of them had tried to talk Steve out of it but without success. They had tried to reason with him, show him the life he was leaving to go back to Peggy, but you guessed his heart worked harder than his mind. And his heart was telling him to go back to Peggy.

It had taken you some time to go on with your life, to try and move on but you were getting there, you were taking it one step at a time, day by day and as far as you knew, you were going to come out on the other end.

You walked around the couch towards the wall where your guitar sat. You've been finding solace in playing every once in a while.

You picked the instrument and moved around the place, sitting down in one of the armchairs. You took a position, setting one of your legs a bit higher than the other, placing the guitar just above your knee. You moved your fingers over the strings a couple of times and with a deep breath, you started a melody.

You weren't really sure what you were actually playing until the familiar tone of Missing you by John Waite took over. You had been playing the melody a couple of times over the last week or so, but you never actually got around to singing the song. Well, maybe today was finally that day.

With a deep breath in, you started up top and soon the words flew out of your mouth.

Every time I think of you I always catch my breath

A variety of memories, moments of the relationship you and Steve had, started flushing in front of you as you sang. Small details, big things, moments you might never be able to forget.

The day you met was one of those.

It was a nice spring Tuesday morning. You wanted to say that your day had started out good, but you would be lying. You had overslept and barely been able to get ready fast enough to leave for work. You were in desperate need of coffee, so you had stopped at your favorite coffee shop.

There was a line of at least three people and you had half a mind to just skip on the coffee in favor of making it on time. You were tapping your foot impatiently, checking your phone like crazy, when the man in front of you turned around with a kind smile.

"What are you having?" he asked you, blue eyes boring into yours.

"I'm sorry?" You said in question.

"What's your coffee order? I'm sorry if I'm overstepping, but you seem to be in a hurry so I thought I could order for you." He said a genuine, sweet smile displayed on his face.

It was an incredibly nice gesture, even though you were strangers.

"I- that's really sweet of you. Thank you," you gave in, telling him your coffee order and extending your hand. "I'm Y/N.," you told him, giving him a small grin in return.

"Steve." He introduced himself with one of his most charming smiles, one you quickly learned to love.

And there's a storm that's raging Through my frozen heart tonight

So many other scenes, words, and memories flooded your mind. So many moments you had spent together. Cooking together, cuddling, walking around the park in the early mornings. Making love, kissing, whispering sweet nothings to each other.

The memories you had, as much as they reminded you of the pain Steve left you with, they will always remind you of the greatest times you've had together.

I ain't missing you at all (Missing you, missing you) Since you've been gone away (Missing you, missing you)

Suddenly a memory, maybe one of the ones you loved the most, flushed before you.

It was a quiet Saturday afternoon. You and Steve had spent almost the whole day at home, save for getting out for your morning walk.

You were curled up on the couch in the living room, you with you back against Steve's front, and his back leaned on the armrest of the couch. With one of his arms around you, his other held a book. You were also reading a book, your head lying on his chest. Soft jazz played in the background from the old fashioned record player sat atop a small table against the wall.

Steve's fingers would occasionally brush against yours where your hands were sitting close.

He moved a bit behind you, getting more comfortable before closing his book, and setting it on the table behind the couch. Both his hands snaked around your waist, hugging you tightly. His head buried itself into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent with a content sigh.

"What are you doing?" You laughed a bit, slightly ticklish from the movement of his beard against your neck.

"I'm cuddling my girlfriend, what does it look like?" He said quietly, laying a few feather-like kisses on your neck. You giggled, book forgotten somewhere on the coffee table.

His face moved from your neck, laying a few kisses in your hair before moving around to your ear.

"Can I tell you something?" He whispered quietly, his fingers intertwining with yours.

"Of course." you said just as quietly, waiting to hear what he had to say.

You were almost able to hear his heart beating in his chest, its' pace quickening just a little.

"I love you." he whispered against your ear, gently squeezing you to him even more. Your eyes blew wide, and for a second you just sat there until a big smile appeared on your face. You tilted your head back, your eyes moving across Steve's face for a second before you cupped his cheek in hand.

"And I love you." you whispered back and leaned up to press your lips together.

I ain't missing you (Missing you, missing you) No matter what I might say (Missing you, missing you)

A small tear escaped your eye, just as a knock came from the door. You stopped your hand from moving against the strings, setting the guitar on the armchair. You stood and wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand, moving towards the door.

You took a deep breath and flicked the lock twice, before pulling the door open.

You expected almost anything and anyone to be standing on the other side of that door, but you didn't expect to see him there.

You stood there, your eyes going back and forth over his face, his eyes, waiting. He looked, honestly he looked like a wreck, no better than you. His face was pale. His eyes were red-rimmed, with dark circles underneath. His hair was a mess, both from probably messing it up too much and needing a shower. He looked tired, stressed out, from what, you couldn't tell.

You waited a few seconds, your hand tightly gripping the doorknob, your other holding the door with just as much force.

You didn't know how you felt about all of this. About his sudden appearance, his presence.

He looked at you, eyes racking around your body, your face before he stopped and took a deep breath. He opened his mouth and closed it a couple of times before he suddenly said in a small voice.

"I'm sorry."

"I beg your pardon?" You asked instantly, your voice cracking slightly. What was he even doing here? What was he apologizing for?

"I'm sorry, I'm an idiot. A dumbass, a clown, and every other adjective that can explain what a fucking dumb person, what an asshole I am." He said, his voice rising. You looked at him stunned, but then pulled him into the apartment in fear of your neighbors hearing you. Whatever it is that Steve wanted to talk about, didn't need to be public knowledge.

When he stepped in, he took in his surroundings for a second, then covered his face with his hands. The apartment had changed since the last time he was here. The furniture was moved around, the walls freshly painted. There were things missing, others were new.

"I'm a fucking moron," he said quietly.

You were at a loss for words. Three months, it had been three months since you last saw him, and yet here he was now, telling you how stupid he was.

"What's all of this Steve? What do you want? Shouldn't you be somewhere relishing in your love with Peggy?" The pain was evident in your voice, your face, and your eyes too. It took every ounce of him to not jump forward and wrap you up in his arms, and tell you how sorry he was.

"I fucked up Y/N. I'm the biggest idiot to ever walk the Earth." he sighed, his hands moving his hair around. He crossed his hands across his chest, looking down at his shoes.

"Steve, what are you doing here?" You asked, your voice raising just a bit, your nerves, your emotions getting the best of you.

"I needed, I wanted to apologize. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. For the way, I ended what we had, for the things I said. I want to apologize for the pain that I caused you, the tears you had to shed over the mistake that I made. Because Y/N, leaving, it was a mistake, a really big one." he whispered the last part, his voice breaking. His eyes glassed over, his cheeks flushing a bit red. Your hands trembled, your own eyes welling with tears.

"You can't just come and say things like that Steve, not after what you did." You told him, turning around and wrapping your hands around yourself as if that would actually help protect you.

"I was wrong Y/N. Things with Peggy, they didn't work out.." you cut him out before he could continue. White, hot anger filling you up.

"Let me stop you right there Steve Rogers. I am not going to be your second choice. I'm not gonna be second best, Steve, I don't want to be. I'm never going to be enough, am I? Because all you have ever longed for is her. I'm not going to be enough because all your heart wants is her." You tried to keep your emotions at bay, but at the end of the sentence, a choked sob escaped you.

Steve moved closer, laying his hand on your arm. Upon the contact, you wrenched your arm off, getting a step away from him.

"That's not, that's not what this is. It's not. Things didn't work out with Peggy, because my heart wasn't there, my heart didn't want for things to work out. It doesn't want to be with her, doesn't want to come home to her, wake up next to her. It doesn't long for her touch, for her lips and her affection. You were never and never will be second best because my heart wants you. It chose you, and I was just too big of a fool to realize it when I should have." He said, his voice quiet, but evidently breaking with every word he said.

“I can't lose you Y/N Y/L/N. I can't lose the woman that I love, the woman that has seemed to catch my heart, the woman that floods my mind every minute of every day. I can't lose that strong and independent, intelligent, and caring woman that makes my heart beat a mile an hour. I can't let you go, and I was a fool to think I needed someone else when all I ever needed was right in front of me. I'm so sorry sweetheart." He choked out, a sob leaving him. His cheeks were covered in tears, ones freely going down and reaching the end of his face, sliding down his neck too.

You weren't any better. You were trembling, your cheeks wet with the tears that couldn't seem to stop.

He dropped to his knees, his arms wrapping tightly around your middle, leaning his head against your stomach. Another sob left him, his arms tightening around you.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." His voice dropped, even more, so much pain laced with it.

A sob escaped the back of your throat. You dropped down to your knees too, your hands wrapping around Steve's neck, your face buried itself into the crock of his neck. One of your hands covered the back of his neck, your fingered twisting in between the hairs there.

Steve's hands found their place, one on the back of your head and the other gently moving up and down your back.

You both sobbed, shushed, and held each other, walking each other through the emotional rollercoaster you went through. You spoke sweet nothings to each other as if you weren't longer together. It was natural.

After some time passed, your sobs and cries dulled down, reducing to soft whimpers and hiccups, and that’s when Steve spoke again.

"I'm sorry, for everything darlin'. I just, if you'd give me the chance, I promise I won't let you down. Never again. I've been missing you so much sweetheart." he told you softly, his breath warm against your ear, his fingers moving over your hair. You squeezed him closer, unable to voice your thoughts.

You loved him, and that would never change. He was an idiot sure, but he was an idiot you had loved for over two years. A man you had loved unconditionally, fully with all of your heart.

"I've been missing you too." you told him quietly, a chuckle like sob leaving him, before his lips kissed the top of your head.

People always said that love conquers all, and maybe it really does, because sitting there, in Steve's arms even after everything that happened, you still loved him.

No man was perfect, because perfect men hardly ever existed. And Steve Rogers? He was far from perfect, but at least he had a heart, one that belonged to you, one that wanted you.

#mimi's one hit wonder challenge #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers angst #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel angst #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #tina writes

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weyheyjxlya · 4 years

Text

０４．ＯｕｔｏｆＣｈａｒａｃｔｅｒ

𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌

*•.¸♡ synopsis ♡¸.•*

You came to watch the Schweiden Adlers vs. MSBY Jackals with your childhood best friend Yachi and the squad. First-year squad. And that includes Tsukishima Kei. That tall, blonde, gorgeous, salty, and once was yours but you got to let go four years ago. With hearts thumping loud and thoughts screaming out on its own. “I miss you. I’ve missed you to the point that I can’t breathe. I miss you, please be back” These words are just waiting to be spoken like some kind of soulmates telepathy. Will they be able to say it? Will they still be able to fulfill that promise? or…

*•.¸♡ warning: manga spoilers! | curses

*•.¸♡ reminder: every chapter has its own music to listen to. just click the lyrics which is the first quoted paragraph right after the banner. listen to it while reading the chapter if you want to. after this au is done, I'll compile all songs and create its own playlist in Spotify that you can listen to.

m.list | 03 | 04 | 05

“No matter where you are You'll always have my heart No matter where you are I'll love you from afar”

"and I refuse to drink with anyone who doesn't appreciate Kahlua and milk" Tsukishima exclaimed "Stingyshima," you mumbled thUd pshshshshshshhh Suddenly, the sound of magazine dropping startled the four as Tsukishima dropped his pamphlet due to the shock that the person that he didn't see nor hear for the past four years was now in front of him breathing and still, ever so lovely. His heart sung a lullaby as the sight in front of him tug his heartstrings. His ears rung as he heard your voice like it’s some sweet melody. He felt his blood rush through his veins as he registers your image through his brain. You've changed. Physically but not wholly because he hoped that you're still the same person that he fell in love with. You looked happier. He knows that you're a renowned writer now and now achieving the dream that you've discussed with him over the time that you're together. You looked blooming. With no hesitation, he fell in love with you over again. "Ahh, It's Y/N, she's here. Finally, you're here. I've missed you love." he thought to himself sweetly. "But you looked so fine right now. Maybe you've got someone greater right now. Damn, he's so lucky. Maybe I just don't dwell in your life anymore." he realizes as sadness pooled his heart suddenly from the thought that there's no more hope of loving you again anymore. His inferiority complex got its way again. ~~ "Uhm, earth to our Stingyshimaaa" you've jokingly said as you tried to keep things natural. You and Yachi waved your hands to him in unison whilst Yamaguchi's helping Tsukishima with his dropped business. Tsukishima pretended as if nothing happened as he fixed his posture as soon as he took the pamphlet from Yamaguchi's hand and adjusted his eyeglasses as he continued to dwell himself into the pamphlet. "Oh, you're back," Tsukishima uttered calmly but his stomach's lurching from the thought that he can never feel your hold again.

Everything's kinda uncomfortable because you're not in the same class with your childhood best friend Yachi. But no, you've decided to be strong, like headstrong! "I'M AN INDEPENDENT WOMAN!" you kept on to yourself to the point that it's starting to be your daily mantra from now on. So you fixed yourself, your posture, and you got rid of that uncomfortable state of yours and have started to look around the class and just started observing.

From: You

To: Yacchan (｡♡‿♡｡)

Subject: Separated

Why are we separated Yacchan?? (-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩___-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩-̩̩̩)

~~~

From: You

To: Y/N-chan (｡♡‿♡｡)

Subject: Re: Separated

I don't even know but any guys over there? (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

~~~

From: You

To: Yacchan (｡♡‿♡｡)

Subject: Simp

Hmm I see one. And he's beside me.

He lookin sooo fineee... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (ﾟοﾟ人))

~~~

From: You

To: Y/N-chan (｡♡‿♡｡)

Subject: Re: Simp

⊙.☉

Chattering voices flooded, arms linking its way to another, utensils clacking, and bentos making its sounds around the room, you felt uncomfortable again. "Urgh" you exclaimed to yourself as loneliness and sun rays kept making its way onto you. "Huh?" suddenly, heat crept its way onto your ears and cheek as this tall and blonde guy that you're talking about with Yachi opened his book and slouched his body onto the table with a book in his hand as he swiftly blocked the sunrays that have been annoying the hell out of you since earlier. "Tsuki!! let's eat lunch!!" the green-headed boy exclaimed as he happily approached and invited this unknown specie. "Shut up Yamaguchi" he swiftly shut him down. harsh geesh. "Gomen Tsuki!!" he apologizes "But may I ask? aren't you hot from that sunray that's been hitting you? how long have you been sitting there? Do you want to transfer at my seat?" he continuously asked "Nah, I'm focusing here and sunlight directly produces my body's vitamin d requirement. So just shut up." You silently giggled upon his response to who is it? Oh, Yamaguchi. It's so damn good but you're thankful. Thankful for his wonderful action for you. "Wait? is it really for me?" you stuttered, suddenly waking yourself up from daydreaming. "Nah, hahaha maybe that's just a usual setting for him way back junior high" you reasoned out as you thought that this wonderful boy's actions aren't for someone like you. So you just kept on observing people, but despite taking back your wonderful thoughts about him. Still, this so-called Tsukishima piqued your interest and started doting your attention to him.

Classes started fine and good. You got comfortable with people inside your class. You didn't encounter any problems because you are indeed an independent woman! You can carry yourself in all kinds of situations because that's how adaptable you are. You're adaptable to situations because of your environment and how you're supposed to be like that. Everything's normal until you came on par with somebody. Everybody in your class is scared of how heated your rivalry is when class recitations are starting. It's known among teachers and students. L/N Y/N who excel supremely in studies and does crazy stuff to get by. On the contrary, Tsukishima Kei who's calm, goes by the principles. and doesn't give a fight. Doesn't give a fight. Most frequently, Tsukishima, your rival always admits his defeat as he doesn't put up much effort as he always says that he cannot overpower you that has superior intelligence than him who just read and goes by the principles.

"Come! Sit here Y/N-chan!! Yachan!!" Yamaguchi shouted over the chattering sound around the gymnasium while pointing over the bench where Tsukishima is sitting. While settling down the bleachers and preparing for the match that's about to start in about 20 minutes. You felt your phone vibrating.

"Oh gotta go down for a while. Omi-kun just texted me and I'll surprise him from the back and wish him good luck for the game," you told Yachi excitedly "Omi-kun? Do you mean Sakusa Kiyoomi?" Yachi asked and you nodded excitedly "OMG, HOW COME?? AND OMI-KUN? THAT GERMAPHOBE? YOU GOT TO BE CLOSE WITH HIM?" Yachi asked shockingly and she cannot believe whom you're acquainted with.

slap

"YAMAGUCHI! Do you have any beer left there? May I take a little sip? Oh, Hitoka-san, you love museums, right? I can get you discounts for its admission fees. Even for its events and else. I can get it for you. You can even take Y/L/N-san with you. I'll be working there next year anyway." Tsukishima halted with the sound of a pamphlet closing combined with a clap from the sound of his hands clashing together.

*•.¸♡ a/n: ahck one week with no update huhu sorry minna-san!! got caught up with exam and job applications. gomen. will do my best for the next one. n e way, love my experiments with this chapter. i did two generations of texting. first is by email and next is the modern one. that's a cool experience, I would say haha. so ya, thank you minna!! it's tomorrow huhu (╥﹏╥)

*•.¸♡ taglist ♡¸.•* @maviiiiic @differentballooncollection @keikink @kodzu-ken @soleil-sole (will still tag u hehe :3)

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