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elizaditton · 7 months ago

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Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 16)

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A/N & T/W: Hey guys, just as a heads up I wanted to let you know that this chapter contains an intrusive daydream of Kaylin's that may be uncomfortable or traumatic for some of my readers. It deals with food and the idea of humans and pertheans eating together. I wanted to convey how this makes Kaylin uncomfortable without making my readers uncomfortable. I've thought a lot about what I've written and I don't believe I've crossed any lines, but for those like me who like G/t but struggle with the idea of food or sharing a meal in that context (and of course, the fears associated with that), the content may be uncomfortable to read. I just want to make it clear that my content does not and never will contain fetish material. My writing will always be safe for work content as I strive to please God in all I do. With that being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

- - - - - - - - - -

It was only about a month ago that Dad and I packed our bags and moved half way across Koronia, and now it's already Rosan. At first, I wasn't expecting much from my dad's hometown, but I've been blown away with how much has happened since we arrived in Chancelor. I wasn't expecting to be forced into attending a deskmate school, and I certainly wasn't thinking I'd ever become friends with a perthean. I always worried about what would happen if a perthean found out about my fear, but never in a million years would I have ever predicted that one would actually want to help me overcome it!

Derrick and I have met up after school a few times now, and although these meetups have been helping me a little, I'm still not sure what my deskmate has in mind for us in the long run. Surely there's more to this than practicing eye contact and learning how to step onto a perthean's palm without falling over.

I think through what could possibly be next as Brittney and I make the trek from the cafeteria back to the pickup area.

"I really wish we could all just have our lunch together, you know?" Brittney says with a huff, interrupting my thoughts.

"What?! What makes you say that?" I ask, my heart skipping a beat at her suggestion as I desperately try to keep my mind from forming any pictures of sharing a lunch table with pertheans.

"It's just... we'd have so much more time to hang out as a group if we had our lunch together! Since this school is so focused on getting humans and pertheans to get along, you'd think they'd want us to have meals together, right?"

I hadn't thought about it before, but I guess what Brittney's saying makes sense. I was surprised when I first found out I wouldn't be sharing Physical Education or lunch periods with my deskmate, but in my relief, I decided not to question it. I suppose separating for P.E. makes sense since it's not a good idea to mix humans and pertheans for strenuous activities like exercise, but what about lunch period?

"Come to think of it," I start, a part of me curious to know and another part of me fearing the answer, "why do we separate for lunch period, anyway?"

Brittney's eyes narrow as she looks away, her lips pouting.

"It's all that Steven's fault!" she says.

I blink. "Steven? Who's Steven?"

"Soaring Steven, back in the twenties. Lunch period was shared here until he had his deskmate throw him across the cafeteria to see if one of their friends could catch him. Landed in a girl's soup and even broke some bones in the process," Brittney says.

I shudder at the realization that humans are light enough to pertheans to be thrown across a room by them. Not only that, but we're small enough to swim in their soup, too! I'm relieved that I don't have to suffer through a shared lunch period with my deskmate, but I can't stop myself from shaking at the idea.

I turn from side to side only to realize that I'm surrounded by mountains of colossal foods stacked much taller than I am with no way of escape. I spin around to face a wall of green fabric that I trace up, up, and up to my deskmate's enormous face. He ravenously gorges himself on nearly half of the sandwich in his hand—tearing off a hunk bigger than me—and thoughtfully chews his meal, his eyes locked with mine. My legs tremble beneath me as I stumble backwards, my eyes darting anywhere but the sight in front of me. This isn't happening.

As I continue to inch away from the perthean in front of me one of my feet makes contact with a thick metal prong, causing me to let out a yelp as I fall flat on my back. Lightheaded and out of breath, I sit up and discover the object was one of the tines on a huge fork.

A massive digit rests under my chin and leads my gaze back to the tall perthean boy in front of me. He gulps down the rest of his sandwich while his big blue eyes scrutinize my fallen form.

"Kaylin," he chuckles. "You're so... tiny, you know that?"

I stare into those massive blue orbs of his as blood rushes to my cheeks, making my ears hot. Anxiety floods my nervous system leaving me incapable of doing anything but quiver where I sit.

Tiny...?

"Anyway," Brittney says, interrupting my thoughts again, "after that incident... the school decided it would be best for deskmates to have 'less time for shenanigans' or something like that. If you ask me, they shouldn't have punished the whole school for a couple of students' idiocy!"

I stare down at my quaking hands. Tears prick the edges of my glazed eyes, and one or two trail down my face. I try to steady my breathing, but my lungs begin to take in more and more air at an increasing rate.

"Hey," Brittney says, turning to me. "Kaylin, are you—"

WHAM!

Something crashes into Brittney and I, interrupting our conversation and sending us both to the floor along with the contents of our open bookbags.

"Hey! What's the big idea?!" Brittney says, dusting herself off as she sits up.

"I-I'm sorry, I couldn't—" utters a boy on the floor in front of us. He coughs, lowering the tone of his voice. "I mean, it was an accident."

Brittney sighs. "That's okay. Here, let me help you with your books."

"Th-that won't be necessary." The boy says, brushing his black hair away from his green eyes before scrambling to pick up his books.

I rub my head, which throbs from the impact with the boy. I blink a few times, staring at him. He's familiar to me, but I'm not sure why.

"Hey, wait a minute," I start, remembering my encounter with that boy from my apartment last week. "Aren't you—"

The boy looks to me, eyes wide, and shakes his head vigorously. He grabs the rest of his books from the floor and stands, running off to the balcony without another word.

"Ugh! Rude! And hasn't he ever heard of a bookbag?" Brittney grumbles. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I say, picking up Brittney's Algebra textbook and passing it to her.

"The nerve of that guy! 'That won't be necessary...' just who does he think he is bumping into people and then running off like that?"

As Brittney passes me my Koronian and Biology textbooks, I can't help but wonder why Sam was in such a hurry to get away from us. He's run away from me twice now, which I find a little odd. And why wasn't he wearing his glasses? He probably could have avoided bumping into us if he had worn them.

"Hey, what's this?" Brittney says, picking up my sketchbook and flipping through the pages.

My heart sinks heavily in my chest. I've never let anyone look through my sketchbook before! Most of the drawings in there are unfinished sketches, many of which I never ended up being happy with, and none of which I feel too excited about sharing. But as Brittney flips through the pages, her eyes widen in awe with every new piece of artwork she lays eyes on.

"You made these? They're incredible!" Brittney exclaims.

"They're not that great, really." I say, reaching for the sketchbook.

Just as I'm about to take the book away from Brittney, she lets out a big gasp and turns the interior toward me. On the pages are two nearly completed sketches of Captain Tristen and Merlot from Stranded, respectively. They're old drawings, and not ones I'm particularly proud of. My insides convulse and cringe as I'm met with the sight of improper foreshortening and all sorts of rushed, sloppy details.

"You draw Stranded?! You know this is my favorite show ever, right?!"

Brittney babbles on elatedly and at a rate I find myself straining to keep up with. I can hardly make out what she's saying, but from what I can tell she's gushing about some recent revelations about Merlot and how she was able to predict them in her fanfic.

"Anyway, here! See? This is my cover!" Brittney says, pulling out her phone and swiping to Splosion. She shoves her phone into my hands to reveal the cover for 'Jack And Merlot: A Frame Of Mind,' which consists of a crude doodle of the titular duo holding hands.

"Oh, um... cute!" I respond, my mind still struggling to process what she's going on about.

"Do you think you could draw me a new cover?" Brittney blurts out, her hands clenched excitedly.

"I-I don't know... wouldn't it be put online for anyone to see?" I ask, the idea of strangers seeing my art making my insides flip.

"Well, yeah, but they don't have to know who drew it unless you want them to!" Brittney responds, folding her hands together and pleading with her big brown eyes. "Come on! Pleaaase? Your art is so good!"

I think for a moment as I look into Brittney's unrelenting puppy eyes. I guess it wouldn't hurt to draw her a picture for her story, especially if no one has to know I'm the artist.

"Sure," I finally answer.

"Yippee!" Brittney exclaims, jumping up and down like a little kid.

"Come on," I say, handing Brittney's phone back to her and taking back my sketchbook. "We're going to be late for sixth period!"

"Oh! Right!"

Brittney turns and hurries down the hall to the balcony. Before following after her, I quickly flip through my sketchbook and land on a page with a finished sketch of a perthean boy and a human girl laughing together under a cherry tree. My cheeks redden when I lay eyes on it and my insides flip around again. I let out a sigh, relieved that Brittney didn't get this far into the book.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"So!" Brittney exclaims from the balcony, her hands secured on the railing as she beams up at my deskmate. "Your birthday! What do you have planned?!"

Derrick rubs the back of his head, grinning sheepishly. "I didn't exactly plan anything."

"Come on," Brittney says, "there has to be something you'd like to do on your special day! Can't you think of anything?"

Derrick places a hand under his chin and closes his eyes, thinking for a moment. "Well, I won't be home until around five, since I have... an appointment."

Kevin looks up from his phone. "You made an appointment on your birthday? What for?"

"I— well, yeah. It's a... doctor's appointment. I forgot to reschedule," my deskmate says, glancing in my direction. "But if you guys want to come over to my house at 5:30 or so, we could hang out? Maybe play some games?"

"I'm in!" Brittney hollers, pumping her fist in the air.

"Sure," Kevin answers, his eyes once again glued to his phone. "Need us to bring anything?"

"You could bring some games if you have any, but other than that nothing comes to mind," Derrick says.

Brittney turns to me, her eyes wide with excitement. "You're coming too, right Kaylin?!"

The world begins to spin as the others' eyes all turn to me. Me? Go to a perthean's house? No way! The enormous classrooms at school are hard enough for me to deal with as it is, but an entire house? I don't think I could handle it! The sheer scale of everyday items would overwhelm me for sure!

"I... don't know," I say. "I think my dad needs me home for... something." I mentally kick myself for not being able to think of any kind of real excuse.

"I'm sure your dad won't mind!" Brittney reasons. "After all, birthdays only come once a year!"

I look around at the group. Brittney's grinning with her hands pressed together, gazing at me expectantly. Derrick gives me a knowing smile, his brows upturned. And then my eyes fall on Kevin. His narrowed brown eyes look void of any life as he stares me down from above. My gut twists and turns as the weight of his stare presses down on me.

I can't go to this party. No way. Not if he's coming. How did Derrick manage to become friends with this guy, anyway? Was it just because of Brittney? And why is Brittney even with this guy? They're complete opposites! My fear may include all pertheans, but it's pertheans like Kevin that really terrify me!

"Kaylin?" Brittney says, pulling me from my thoughts. "What do you say?"

"I-I'll talk to my dad," I stutter. "But I really think he needs me for... that thing."

"Great! See you all there!" Brittney spins around with her arms stretched wide and heads for the door. I don't think she registered what it was I said at all.

"Hang on there, princess," Kevin says, causing Brittney to come to a halt and turn back around.

Princess? I never expected a guy like Kevin to call his girlfriend something so sappy!

"Yes, my prince?" Brittney answers, clasping her hands together as she flutters her eyelashes.

"If you're going to Derrick's place, you might as well come with me. You can't get there by train, you know," Kevin says.

"I guess you're right," Brittney giggles.

Kevin looks over his shoulder, presumably to see if any teachers are nearby, and then offers his open palm to Brittney who runs and leaps into it with a loud 'wheee!' The way she flew into his hand without a second thought makes me think about how I can barely even walk onto Derrick's open palm without struggling and stumbling. How does she make it look so easy?

"Shh!" Kevin hushes his girlfriend. "I'm not supposed to pick you up this way in here!"

"Sorry," Brittney says, her lip protruding in a pout.

"See you later," Kevin says to Derrick before walking off, mumbling something to Brittney about how he doesn't want to get in trouble 'again.' I guess I'll have to ask Brittney what that means later.

Derrick looks at me and laughs.

"What?" I ask.

"I'd like to see you jump into my hand like that," he says.

My face reddens, and I immediately avert my gaze. "D-don't be ridiculous! What those two did was dangerous!"

"I know, I know," Derrick says. "It's just that..."

His unfinished phrase hangs in the air for a moment, causing me to wonder what it is he means to say. I look back at my deskmate, his gaze fixed on me. What emotion is filling his eyes I can't say, but what I do know is that something has to be weighing on his mind.

"It's just that what?" I finally ask.

"Nothing," Derrick says, shaking his head. "I'll see you out back."

With that, he turns away, leaving the balcony behind him as he heads down the hall. My heart sinks in my chest. What isn't he saying?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I heave a sigh as I close the door behind me. I feel bad we didn't cancel our meetup for today, considering it's Derrick's birthday and all.

"Hey," he says with a smile, approaching the balcony and placing his hand on top of it. It's sort of become routine for me to walk onto his hand at the start of our meet ups, not that I've gotten any better at it.

"Hey," I answer as I approach his open palm.

The size of his hand still manages to freak me out, but at least I'm not as averse to it as I was when he first started helping me with my fear. After a bit of wobbling and struggling, I manage to position myself in the center of my deskmate's palm and sit down.

"Sorry for making you come out here on your birthday," I say with my head down as I nervously twiddle my thumbs. "I know there's other things you'd rather be doing right now."

"Aw, come on, you know that's not true!" Derrick beams at me from above. "There's nothing I'd rather be doing right now than helping out a friend."

I smile back at him, though his words don't reassure me completely.

"Now," he starts as he moves beside the balcony and gently sits down, "since you've been improving so much this week with both eye contact and with walking onto my hand, I thought we'd try something new. If you're up for it, that is."

"Something new?" I ask, my gut immediately beginning to twist. "Like what?"

"Would you be up for trying shoulder etiquette?"

"Shoulder etiquette?"

"Yeah! I'd place you on my shoulder, and you'd stand there," Derrick explains. "It's a formal form of etiquette that even the teachers use, so we can practice it during school as well."

My mind flashes back to orientation day, when I saw most of the school staff going around in pairs like that. I remember Derrick had asked me that day if I wanted to try standing on his shoulder, and I coldly turned him down. A weight fills my chest as I think about all the ways I was unkind to Derrick before we became friends.

"Okay," I say, "we can try it."

Derrick nods and lifts the hand I'm in up to his shoulder. My core tightens and my heart thrashes about within me as the distance between us gets smaller and smaller. As I find myself nearing the crook of his neck, I begin to feel heat radiating from his body like a space heater. He's so warm! My insides do a somersault, and my cheeks redden as I release a shuddering breath. I don't think I've ever been this close to anyone before, let alone a perthean!

I slowly rise from my place in Derrick's palm, carefully maneuvering past his fingers and onto his shoulder. I nearly slip once or twice as I struggle to maintain my balance, but manage to secure myself by grabbing onto the collar of the white button up he's wearing under his blazer.

"How are you doing?" He asks, removing his hand and leaving me stranded on his shoulder.

My eyes can't help but wander downward until I'm gazing helplessly at the hard concrete below us. Even though my deskmate is sitting down, I'm still so high above the ground! A fall from this height would certainly kill me! I let out a yelp and slam my eyes shut, gripping the collar of Derrick's shirt more tightly lest I slip and fall to my death!

"Hm, not good?" Derrick asks. "I suppose it takes some getting used to. Just hold onto me, you'll be fine."

"Mhm," I hum as I try to keep myself from trembling. If my legs continue to quake like this, I'll slip for sure! I have no idea how the teachers or the other students at school manage to go around like this!

"So, while you're getting adjusted..." Derrick begins, "is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

"Um..." I think for a moment. "You're turning eighteen, right?"

"Right. Just two more years and I'll be an adult."

"How has preadulthood treated you so far? Do you feel prepared for adulthood?" I ask.

Derrick hums, thinking through my question. "Well, I guess it beats being a teenager. I still can't drive, but I'd say I can cook, clean, and budget decently enough to live on my own if I wanted to. I'll probably wait until university to move out, though. What about you?"

"I've learned a lot from my dad. He's a good teacher. He taught me nearly everything I know about being a preadult. Cooking, cleaning, budgeting... although he's not very good at home repair..."

"Did your mom teach you anything?"

My heart plummets to the ground, and my guts twist and turn tightly within me.

"I... well, my mom died when I was only six. It's just my dad and me."

"Oh... I'm sorry," Derrick apologizes.

"No, it's okay. I'm over it. It was a long time ago," I sigh.

I bite the inside of my cheek, unsure of whether I'm being honest or not. It's been years since my mom passed, but I've always longed for her to be a part of my life. I wonder all the time what might have been if only she hadn't...

"You know, I guess my mom did teach me something," I say, letting my mind go to the past. "I remember when I was a little girl, I'd watch her make different pieces of artwork. I was so fascinated with how she was able to draw such fine details and pick such beautiful colors to paint with. I have a memory of her sitting down with me and teaching me how to draw different flowers. Pansies, bluebells, rotizelles... and although I'm still not very good with flowers, she did instill in me a love for art."

"I remember you said you liked to draw when we first met, and I've seen a few of the doodles in your notes," Derrick chuckles. "I have yet to see a finished piece from you, though. Especially since you're always hiding your drawings."

My face gets really hot really quickly as my mind turns back to the sketchbook I brought with me to school. "A-actually," I stutter, "there's... something I wanted to show you."

"Something you want to show me? Really?" Derrick asks, surprised. "Am I finally going to see one of your drawings?"

"I-I— well," I stammer, embarrassed, not really knowing what to say. Is what I'm about to do really a good idea?

I reach into my bookbag and feel around for my sketchbook. Pulling it out, I turn to the page with my finished sketch of the two of us laughing under a cherry tree and look it over for a moment.

'It's hideous!' I can already hear my deskmate say. 'Is that supposed to be us? What an ugly art style!'

"Kaylin?" Derrick asks after a long silence.

"I— um...! H-here, I... made this for you," I sputter. "For your birthday!"

I grip the collar of Derrick's shirt with one hand, and with the other I stretch out as far as I'm able and present my sketchbook to him.

"For... me?" Derrick asks, taking the sketchbook in between his thumb and forefinger.

Silence fills the air as my deskmate stares down the human-sized book in between his fingers. My heart pounds and pounds while my insides swarm with butterflies! What will he think? What will he say?! I almost wish I never brought this up! I'm sure he'll think it's a pathetic gift! I knew my art wasn't good enough to be shown to anyone, so why did I ever think it would be a good idea to make this dumb drawing for his birthday?

Derrick gasps. "Wow, I don't know what to say."

I try my hardest to slow down my breathing, but it's no use. My whole body shakes as I brace for the impact of whatever criticism is about to come my way. He hates it, doesn't he?

"Kaylin, you drew this? This is amazing!" my deskmate exclaims.

"I'm sorry! I knew it wouldn't be good enough!" I say, only to blink a few times in confusion. Do my ears deceive me? "Wait, what did you say?"

"This is amazing! Is this what I think it is?" Derrick asks.

"I-it's... you and me," I answer, "under that cherry tree we saw the other day."

Derrick continues looking the drawing over. "Wow," he says again.

"I-I can send you a photo of it, if you want," I suggest.

"That would be great!" he says, handing the sketchbook back to me. "After all, I'm sure you wanted to keep your book."

I put my sketchbook away and quickly open up my phone to send a picture I took of the drawing to Derrick. Once I send it, his phone buzzes almost instantly, and he unlocks it to view what I sent.

"Thank you, Kaylin," he says, gazing at the drawing once more. "Really. It's a wonderful gift."

A warmth fills my heart, soothing any remaining anxieties I had about the drawing and leaving me with a grin that stretches from ear to ear.

Time continues on in the blink of an eye, and before we know it, we've already reached our usual time of departure.

"Well," Derrick says, carefully standing up from his spot beside the balcony, "I guess we better get going."

My heart races and my eyes widen as he stands to his full height. I look beneath me at the ground below and watch as it gets farther and farther away. If the distance to the ground when he was sitting wasn't enough to kill me, this distance will surely do the job! My vision doubles as the scenery around me spins and my insides churn and convulse! I grab onto the collar of Derrick's shirt with a death grip, lest I topple down toward the unforgiving concrete below!

"Sorry," Derrick says. "I tried to be more careful, since you're on my shoulder."

"N-no, you're fine, it's just that... I feel like I..." I trail off, unsure of how to describe what's going on inside of me.

"You feel like you're going to fall?"

"Y-yeah," I murmur, trembling where I stand on my deskmate's shoulder.

"Don't worry," Derrick says, pressing a hand against my little frame and gently pinning me against the side of his neck. "I'll keep you safe."

Is this... a hug?!

I blush. Hard. My trembling increases as I'm wedged between Derrick's hand and his neck. What do I do?! I can't move! I can't escape! I begin to breathe in and out at a rapid pace, shuddering more and more with each exhalation.

After a few seconds, Derrick removes his hand, releasing me from what had to be the most frightening embrace I've ever been on the receiving end of!

"Hey, listen," he says. "About earlier... you really don't have to come over if you don't feel like you're ready. I understand that the idea of visiting a house twenty times bigger than what you're used to is likely overwhelming to you, especially if other pertheans are involved. But, in case you do want to come, I thought I'd ask anyway—would you like to come over?"

"Um, yeah! Sure," I say, Derrick's words going in one ear and out the other as I try to calm myself down.

"Wait, really?" He asks. "You'll come over?"

"Sure," I say. "I just... need a moment." I try to steady my breathing again using the techniques I learned in therapy as a kid, still not registering what it was Derrick just asked me.

"Alright, well, we should get going then," my deskmate says, walking away from our spot behind the school and heading toward the sidewalk beyond the school grounds.

I'll have every opportunity to think through what just happened when I get home.

#too small to be afraid #tstba #perthea #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #giant/tiny writing #gt writing

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loserlvrss · 1 year ago

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꒰ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 ꒱ 王奕翔

summary : jihye has been in an unrequited love with nicholas since seven years old. come one random february day of their senior year, and she confesses for the sake of her sanity

genre : fluff, non-idol!nicholas x original character, childhood-friends to lovers tws : language, weird plot (idk either), kiss author notes : scarce &team content on this app word count : 3.7k

a sigh escaped the girl's mouth, as she readjusted the bag over her shoulders. the winter air was just starting to become bearable once again, with spring on its way. however, the light breeze still made the girl bury her face into the oversized scarf wrapped around her neck, as if she was a turtle threatening to hide in its shell.

"you know," a voice caught her attention as she pulled the sleeves down over her mitten-less hands, "you don't have to wait here every morning for me."

into view came her bestfriend of almost twelve years, nicholas. his sharp eyes looked down at her, before he took the corners of her coat-collar and pulled them closer than they already were, jolting her body forward. she yelped in protest, grabbing onto the man’s elbows to steady herself. but, underneath her skin, roses bloomed a pasty red, followed by goosebumps at his contact.

to everyone at the seoul highschool the two attended, they were the inseparable pair. fate had always been on their side, putting the two in the same class every year, so their schedules would align, ultimately making the two grow closer than they otherwise would have solely being neighbors.

"and risk losing my position in the hierarchy," she replied, looking him up and down, studying the way his black-hair was perfectly parted in the trendy curtain-bang that recent kpop idols had made resurface. "i'd rather drop out of school."

"you'd rather do that than even go in the first place, it's not much of a threat."

her eyes narrowed playfully, and he took her side, "very funny, nicho."

the blush deepened under his gaze, though she was prepared to fight the claim with just being cold. though, even if he noticed every time, he never said anything, and jihye couldn’t tell if it relived her or annoyed her more.

the peaceful walk to school was lined with slightly frosty trees and the sing-song chirping of the remaining city birds. barely any cars were out this early in the day, most parked at their owners occupations or residences still. it was only about to be seven forty-five, the sun just beginning to rise and replace the dim moonlight of dawn.

a fondness overcame the girl as a gust of chilly air brushed between the pair. she honestly wanted to daydream they were the leads in a romantic movie though, she knew he wasn't thinking the same.

jihye looked over to nicholas, who was removing one of the airpods he'd put in just before they started their punctual walk to school.

"jihye," he stated, audibly clicking the top back on the case. he then shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat and raised his shoulders in an attempt to conserve body-heat, "can i tell you something?"

"what if i said no?" but, her heart picked up pace in anticipation.

he laughed, "you wouldn't dare."

"then why did you ask?"

"because, it's the nice thing to do," he started, taking a pause to seemingly collect his thoughts, "and besides, maybe you would say no one of these days." though, he had no idea that she’d never in a million years say that word to him.

jihye felt her phone vibrate inside her pocket, cursing whoever it was for ruining his moment. she weaved through her coffee-colored trench-coat until the piece of machinery touched her fingertips.

nicholas took a step back, metaphorically, as he heard the familiar ringtone literally buzz straight to his ears. he waited for the girl to pull it out, looking at the contact that said grandma, embellished with a white heart. she gave him an apologetic but irritated smile, and brought the phone to her ear.

"no, i left with nicho already — like every morning." he couldn't make out the replies from the mumbling on the other end, only hearing what jihye said and trying to piece the rest together. "grandma, i leave every morning at the same time. i can't turn around now, i’ll see you after school... yes, yes. i'll pick up your medication on my way."

jihye hung up the phone with another deep-sigh after spewing i love you's down it a couple of times. then it made its way back into her coat, and she looked at nicholas, apologizing for the interruption and telling him to continue.

per contra of his desires, by the time he was about to begin again, the stone-building came into view. the bustling of teenagers running past, and getting ready for class being too much of a distraction to keep his mind on-track. he told her he would just wait until after school, because it, quote-on-quote, wasn't that important but, jihye’s heart raced on still.

the cliché chatter of the school corridor filled the pair's ears, and eventually jihye broke from her other-half and stopped by her friend’s locker before they’d make their way to their respective classes.

actually, jihye wasn't even sure if her athlete friend would show up to school today; mostly because the coach of her fencing team had made a deal with the principal some time back, and now she didn't have to attend class if she keeps her rank above (or, really, below) ten.

it was always a gamble, but eventually she saw the naturally crimson-cheeked girl skip to put her things away.

"jihye!" she was always awfully cheery — deemed as so by her peers — a bright smile plastered to her features, "what are you doing here?"

"an i not allowed to see you, mijoo?" jihye replied, resting her arm against the blue-painted metal, "we're friends, and this is the first time you’ve been here all week."

"it's only wednesday!"

jihye pouted her lips, "i'm also not allowed to miss you?"

"i guess i am better than spending every waking second with nicholas."

jihye shied away from her friend. the image of him flashing through her mind like a picture book written only for her, "i do not spend every second with him."

"damn near," she retorted jokingly, 'if i didn't know any better i'd think you guys were already dating." instinctively, jihye's hand shot out and hit her friend, who proceeded to playfully swat back until they were both giggling, “honestly, just make out already.”

"i'd rather bite his lips off." the girl exchanged a knowing-glance as her reply, shutting the locker loudly, though nothing much was heard over the sounds from the rest of the hall, "i've known him for too long… that thought is, i don't know -- "

she hummed in dissatisfaction, “that's kinky, jihye." she joked, turning and mirroring her lean against the locker, "you probably know him better than anyone, if anything, wouldn't it only make sense that he’d eventually fall in love with you? there's no way he hasn't seen the hearts you shoot at him with every glance."

it was true, she probably knew him better than anyone, but it was also a two-way street because no one knew jihye the way nicholas could claim he did. so, it would make sense, however jihye would never admit to being the juliet to his unrequited-romeo.

"i don’t want it to ruin our friendship," she sighed out in reply, “what if we break up? besides, he probably likes someone else. i’m just being delusional, mijoo — tell me i am.”

"you know, i’d never pass up that opportunity and, i may be a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one — except that one time… or that other time." mijoo threw her hands out to cut herself off, smirking, “besides the point! i'm not blind! from an outside perspective, i see the longing looks.”

jihye rolled her eyes, exchanging her goodbye's instead of arguments and began to walk away. mijoo continued spewing out more to the back of the girl’s head. "do something before someone else does! and, someone else will, jihye!"

the words rang in the back of her head, echoing like a bad rumor. it's something jihye has always known would happen: nicholas would get a girlfriend, a wife, a life — without her. though they had promised to marry each other under the pillow-fort the two had messily made at the age of seven. they were almost nineteen now. almost adults now. the reality was that nothing as innocent as that would last forever, and it will break her little seven-year-old-heart into pieces once faced with the arch of that bridge.

throughout the day, she'd not forgotten about mijoo's comments, or nicholas' awaited confession, despite her attempt to have her focus locked on the midterms that were coming up quickly. jihye was the third best in her class, which didn’t go hand in hand with her hatred for school, but she planned on moving up a place or two with this coming exam season.

on the contrary nicholas wasn't top or last, only average in comparison to the girl his name is constantly attached to. however, he still never had to try very hard to impress the people — mostly women — he'd come across. he never dated any of them, but his looks were enough for them to instantly be infatuated, whereas his manners made the older folk swoon. all around, people deemed the man straight out of a drama they swear they've already seen before.

after school had let out, jihye made her way from the building. walking across the street to quietly wait until nicholas met her on the bench. she hugged the coat around her body, making sure the bottom half laid over her tights-covered legs. she watched the door open and close a couple of times, every one making her heart pick up an irregular pattern.

eventually, nicholas came hustling out the door, it swinging against and testing the hinges strength. jihye cringed as the boy carelessly ran over the frosted pavement, only stopping once he reached the red-walking-sign at the edge of the car-filled street.

he waved stupidly at the girl, as if she hadn't noticed him running towards her quickly. the action caused jihye to smile like a dork in return, as she was literally not mentally capable of holding it back.

the squeak of breaks audibly cued the slowing of the cars, and nicholas bounced eagerly for his right to cross. the signal then changed to green, and he practically jumped from one end of the crosswalk to the other. her anxiety and heart rate rose further when the boy slipped, catching his balance before he had a chance to become acquainted with the floor.

he laughed, stumbling the rest of the way and rocking her to the side slightly when he harshly sat next to her. she looked to him annoyed, but reality was that she relieved he hadn't actually fallen.

"you're gonna kill me one of these days," she held the back of her neck jokingly, scolding the man who happened to be older than her by a couple of months, "please, be careful."

"it's not my fault that i'm excited to see you." he sulked in her direction, nudging her shoulder with his own, "you missed me too, don't lie."

too?

jihye shook her head, turning her nose to the air in protest. he whined lowly in annoyance, and leaned into the side of her face. she held her breath, the feeling of his against her skin instilling shivers down her spine. she awaited his next move, him planting a light kiss on the side of her cheek in retaliation. he's done it before, and usually she could keep the roses at bay, but the words mijoo had said came rushing back like a midsummer tide. her face instantly got hot at the thought and she shied away, hiding her features into the scarf she was now more than glad she wore this morning.

jihye choked the feeling back, causing a lump in her throat and a faster heart rate that made her nauseous. she got from the bench abruptly, leaving the man with a confused expression.

"i almost forgot," she played it off, hoping her voice sounded as smooth to him as it did in her own ears. "my grandmother's medication. go ahead without me, nicho. i'll meet up with you later to study."

nicholas' eyebrows rose, "i'll just walk with you, i wasn't going to study anyways."

she knew it was useless to try and fight with the man who had no regard — idea — of her desire to clear her head from his previous behavior. he had his own ideals and morals. she knew full-well that he would never really allow her to walk alone, despite his implication this morning for her to do just that.

the inside of her cheek found the undersides of her molars, and she ground down slightly, trying to suppress another grin.

"fine, let's go fast."

"can we get something to eat?"

she huffed, looking up to the man who was dead-serious. "you're hungry? did you skip lunch again?"

"you're not?" he voiced in disbelief, "well, in that case, neither a — ”

a growing guilt inside her cut him off, "get something for my grandmother too."

he looked off as he pondered for a bit, "i already was." he stated matter-of-factly, "i'll also get something for you, jihye. it's a date."

said girl stumbled, blinking like a fish a few times. her throat was dry, and she questioned why her palms started sweating in the low temperatures of early february.

she brushed it off as mijoo getting into her head, convincing her of something that was so fairytale-like that it wouldn't ever become a reality outside of a story books she’d read as a kid.

her mouth fell open, contorting into a mock-disgusted face, "don't ever say that shit to me again. ew, i don't wanna imagine you like that."

she lied. that’s all she ever catches herself doing.

he smirked, pausing his steps as she continued forward, "why not?" jihye's body jolted in shock, and she stopped dead in her tracks. hesitantly, she turned to face him, but wouldn't meet his eyes no matter how hard he bore his own into her.

"if you don't want to imagine me like that, they why were you blushing? why won't you look at me now?"

her stomach twisted with his words. truthfully, she has seen him in that light for a long time — and, he looked beautiful. too beautiful. he always captured her attention, finding a way to consume her thoughts until they all basically belonged to him.

rent-free was an understatement.

"do you secretly hate me?" he joked, beginning to walk again, like he hadn't just flustered his bestfriend. “we’ve been together for twelve years and you’re only going to tell me now that you actually despise my presence.”

maybe he didn’t mean what he said to her at seven years old, but it was hard to forget in jihye’s mind. and, an innocent crush was the outcome; but, jihye and everyone knew it would be cliché for the two to end up together, so in middle school she swallowed it down until eventually she could look at him the same every day. only allowing her mind to, more than occasionally, flutter into a daydream or three.

her drowning-fondness for him faded into the background noise, and with much convincing the butterflies retreated. she felt a chill run up her body, and hugged her arms around herself before walking quickly to catch up with him.

“i do hate your presence — hate for you to find out this way, nicho.” she shrugged.

“yet, you still use that nickname.” he cooed, slowing his speed to match jihye’s subconsciously, “you love me.”

“you should be honored i even tolerate you, love is a stretch.”

jihye swallowed thickly before pushing on with confident steps, a march he tried to keep up with. she questioned the reality of the situation, the reality of the feelings that grew deeper since this morning — and every morning — she tried to calculate the probability and, the bittersweet-truth laced her own mind, wrapping around her constricted heart.

“jihye,” nicholas had stopped again, rippling into effect as she did too. he stared down at her through eyes that she pretended shot hearts her way, “i never got to tell you that thing this morning.”

she let her arms fall to her sides, the sleeves dangling over her oddly-warm hands. another breeze passed between them, nicholas veering every-so-slightly closer to the girl.

it was now nearing six-thirty, the sun slowly beginning to lower to allow room for its soulmate to shine. the streetlights were seconds from their synced illumination.

“what is it?”

he stared for a while, looking right through her when all she wanted was for him to be looking right at her. then, her heart picked another irregular pace once she realized the vicinity they happened to be in. her mind wanted to take a step back but, her heart had stronger control.

her emotions were overwhelming her, and she hated feeling so out of synch with herself. she knew that he jokingly flirted, knowing or not, the effect he had over her. however, she always knew how to overcome it… until this damned day.

maybe she hadn’t realized how badly she had fallen for him, in between calling him her bestfriend and pretending to be over him.

but the tide was strong, and she feared going down with the ship more than anything.

their friendship, in jihye’s eyes, was the most important thing on her list of priorities. she didn’t want to ripple it — or worse, rip it to shreds. she wasn’t sure how to live without him, and truthfully, she never wanted to learn.

it was an ultimatum she feared leaning too far to either side on. so, until the day he hypothetically fessed up, she was convinced she had to swallow her own heart-wrenching ache for him.

well, she was trying to, at least.

he opened his mouth a few seconds before any words even came out, “never mind.” he finally said. and, to say the least, if drove jihye up the nearest wall, “it’s not important. i don’t even really remember.”

she scoffed, her prior strength blowing away with the breeze, earning an amused look from her best friend, "are you serious right now? don't do that again, nicho."

"do what?" he asked innocently, halfway between a smirk and a smile on his lips.

"leave me hanging, you literally have no excuse this time." her arms motioned around them, "there's no one here to interrupt you."

"why are you getting upset with me, jihye? let's just go get your grandmother's medicine and go study."

she grumbled, "i'm not upset."

"you are." he said plainly, and even if it was true what jihye said, his action were only furthering the opposite. "you must actually hate me."

"stop saying that."

"why? it was about time honestly, we've been together for twelve years." he backed up a little, causing jihye to want to follow.

he said it again, the word lingering her mind; together.

"if i'm annoying you can just say that, you've never had a problem voicing your thoughts before."

she bit her lip, not knowing how to form a reply when he stared so confidently at her. it was getting harder to believe he was oblivious to her — her feelings for him.

he grabbed her hand, pushing his fingers to slot between her and pulled her along the sidewalk with him. "then, if that's not it, what's wrong?" he asked as the pair rounded a corner.

jihye felt a nausea creep up her throat, and honestly she didn't know if she could be diagnosed with love-sickness or heartbreak. she were hit with a sense of anticipation, or maybe it was adrenaline, she weren't really sure. her vision was blurring with the shadows the moon casted and the frustration-tears that threaten to fall just as hard as she did all those years ago.

it was childish to keep running inside this dark tunnel. and whether, at the end, it be hand in hand or not she couldn't keep up the act.

she had to stop.

so, jihye did. she dropped his hand, and stopped walking. she stood with your her down, but, no longer to hide the blush. nicholas stopped at the moment he lost contact, feeling his heart drop into his stomach.

she was admitting defeat, surrendering, raising the white flag.

"nicho..." he walked up to her, his eyebrows knitted together with concern but before he had a chance to speak. his hands smoothly fit against jihye's cheeks, moving her face up to look him in the eyes. she took a shaky breath, continued and cut the life-support, "i like you."

nicholas didn't drop her face, like she feared. he didn't back up and somewhere deep-down she hoped it was a confession he'd just as desperately been holding back all day.

“jihye…” he practically mocked, deja-vu clouding her, “you have no idea how long i’ve held back from you. i like so you much.”

the girl felt a little mad at yourself for having waited this long, if all he was going to say was what she’s convinced herself he never would.

he was so close to her now, breaths practically morphed into one. she could finally let him fill her senses without having to feel bad about it.

“i was honestly not sure if you were just blushing because i was a guy flirting with you or — “

their eyes met, jihye’s abrupt change making him stop speaking and look at her with another hint of concern.

“nicho, please stop talking and finally kiss me.”

his grip on her skin tightened just a little as he whispered against her parted lips, “fuck, okay.” and then, as if fireworks went off, they finally went from bestfriends to something more — something that made that little girl inside jihye hopeful of the future.

a future where she got to call him, hers.

she could practically hear the groan from mijoo, who would be secretly happy she could arise her front row seat to their movie. she wasn’t even fully convinced the athlete wouldn’t clap as the credits played.

jihye pulled nicholas closer without protest. she vowed that because she’s fucked up the friendship there was no way she could physically let him go. she was bonded to him, she has been for twelve years, and she prayed for twelve more — and then twelve more.

their tether was strong, and it was cliché that they ended up falling for each other.

yet, all that seemed like a thought for another time.

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

— perm tag list .ᐟ send an ask to be added c:

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coraniaid · 2 months ago

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For the fic ask game, 5, 10, 20 please!

Fanfiction author ask game

5) The fic you’re most proud of writing?

I think the answer has to be Coexist, my season 3 rewrite.

It was the first fic I started writing in the Buffy fandom; it's the (completed) fic that took me the longest to finish [the first chapter was posted in February 2021, but I'd been planning it and drafting it for a while before then, and the last chapter wasn't posted until April 2023]; it's (by some distance) the longest single fic I've written [it's a bit over a quarter of a million words long].

And, now that I've had some time to think about it, I think it holds up pretty well? There are certainly a few sections I'd be tempted to rewrite slightly, and probably some bits which I should have just edited away, and (because I hadn't quite planned things out in as much detail as I thought I had) there's a few moments where the wider timeline doesn't quite work [secondary characters will say things that are meant to be cryptic references to events that I later decided hadn't happened yet], but overall I think I did a pretty good job capturing the story I'd been daydreaming about for a while. I'm still really pleased with the chapters The Price, Reactions and Undertow in particular, and I think the overall story is surprisingly coherent, both structurally and thematically, for something I spent more than two years writing.

10) Best/funniest comment you’ve ever gotten on a fic?

It still kind of amazes me whenever I get ... well, any comments at all, really, but especially comments that take the story I've written seriously as something worth engaging with and analyzing? I'm especially grateful to anybody whose leaves detailed comments or reviews on each chapter as they go, or who leave additional comments to point out things they noticed or enjoyed on a reread (not naming any names but you know who you are). Not to be sappy, but those are the types of comments that I go back and reread when I'm struggling with writing something new and trying to motivate myself to finish a difficult section.

Funniest comments, in hindsight, are the reactions to ... well, there is a certain chapter about a third of the way into Coexist where a Thing happens. I remember being really nervous about posting that one, and I still feel a little guilty if anyone really did stop reading at that point, but looking back the reactions (which included repeated variants on things like "damn" and "what the fuck?" and "I'm so angry right now" and "... ow :(" and "this is some real game of thrones shit") are exactly what I was going for.

20) Hardest character to write/get the characterization correct for?

I think Jenny Calendar is basically impossible to write 'correctly' because she just doesn't have a consistent characterisation in canon (is she a capable practicing technopagan who has a perspective on the supernatural that challenges Giles' own assumptions, or is she Giles' cool teacher girlfriend who helps with research in the library but is hurt and betrayed when the magical side of Giles' past endagers her safety, or is she a walking racist stereotype who [sort-of, somehow] betrayed Giles and Buffy [in ways that never quite make sense] and who has the bad luck to be written by a group of writers who ... well, let's just say that Angel doesn't ever attribute his soul to a Romani curse).

I don't think you can really reconcile those three contrasting versions of the character -- at least not in a way that I personally find satisfying -- so you just have to pick one to be the 'real' version and gloss over the other stuff as best you can. (And I think my summary above makes it clear which version of Jenny Calendar I like.)

#btvs #asks #thanks for the ask!

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amusingmusie · 8 months ago

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Hello Musie! I hope you are doing well on this out of touch Thursday. Would you be comfortable with sharing what inspired you to begin writing? Do you have a muse of your own that inspires the way you build dynamics between your characters? I was curious if you had anything that you had outside of source material (ie Hazbin) that helped motivate you?

I've always loved to write, but always burned myself out before the ideas manifested into something more substantial than daydreams. You have inspired me to at least focus that energy into comments and questions! I just wanted to say that you have a fresh approach to building meaningful conflict between characters and developing background YT. You've got me researching New Orleans history so I can further the immersion as I read! I still cannot get over how fleshed out Nel is. I can absolutely go on, but yeah!

Thanks a million :)

Hello! Sorry I answered this so late (it's Monday for me whoops!). I can't lie, I got really excited to answer this so I can nerd the hell out and YAP PROFUSELY.

What inspired me to write- With every single piece of media consume, I immediately (and I mean immediately) begin to construct some kind of OC to throw into that universe, and Nel was no exception! I got very attached to human Alastor since one of my favorite things about Hazbin is the tradegy of the human lives the characters lived, and Alastor's death in particular seemed incredibly tragic (but deserved) that I ended up fixating on it. I think something I asked myself was "Goddamn, I wonder how people who knew him reacted to his end?". That, combined with how much I loved Al's dynamic with Husk/Vaggie (the sterner characters) birthed Nel pretty quickly after I watched the pilot.

I NEVER thought I'd post a fic. Like ever. I did not think I could do it. I've been writing for myself for years and I would write on the job (I was doing secretary work at the time), so this story slowly started building and building until I had the whole thing drafted. It wasn't going to be posted until I started casually going through the Al/reader tag and saw that there was BARELY any human Alastor. And I sorta thought weeeellll I guess I gotta be the change I wish to see, I've got the whole thing drafted, why not? I'll see how long I stick with it. The fandom was super dead at the time, so I figured my fic wouldn't be exposed to a lot of people anyway, so why not?

Then you insane (/pos) people got invested in my silly shit and I am still in fucking awe that everyone is so supportive!

As for other muses (heehee) that give me inspiration- READ DEAD REDEMPTION 2. I love the RDR series, I am obsessed with it, and I think the storytelling is so beautiful. The setting gave me a small amount of inspiration (the wilderness and the country, rugged characters) but mostly the impact of the story and writing has had a lot of influence on my creativity if that makes sense? The dialogue feels insanely natural, they use old-timey slang without it dominating the conversations, and the story flows deliciously. Like, the game has had a huge impact on my life and I think if I had half the effect on you guys with my fic as that had on me, I could die somewhat happily.

And finally, I'm glad my work has a bit of a motivator for you! I'm not the best at giving advice to get motivated to start writing (I live in hyperfixation hell), but what I can say is that when something sticks, nurture it :) Try writing for yourself and see what feels right first. You never know what it can turn into!

#my asks #musie musings #I LOVE TO YAP!!!!#this question was so fun to answer thank you

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citronellaww · 1 year ago

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Peter Doherty at the Royal Albert Hall - a coronary experience.

"...because the poet said a word."

When I came back from the (utterly maddening and brilliant and “I still smile like a madwoman whenever I daydream about that night”) Libertines concert in Prague last year, I made this note to myself: “This is what poetry means to me: I sail to the unknown, writing”.

Months of writing (and daydreaming) later, the sea called for me again — and so, in an endless pursuit of the unknown, I sailed to Albion. (Editor's note number one: I had to fly, because sailing when your country's land doesn't reach the sea - yes, William Shakespeare, I am sure you and your mystic Bohemia are flabbergasted now - is a tad bit complicated, but I watched the ships underneath the plane's wings and I shed a tear as we crossed the Channel, and I listened to Carl Barât and the Jackals as we were landing and I really recommend that sort of combination, because it made me feel colours, instead of being scared of landing).

Being a PhD student in American and British literature (…), people naturally thought I made this trip to see the Coronation. And I let them think that, because to me it was a sort of "coronary" experience, seeing Peter Doherty perform at the Royal Albert Hall. (Editor's note number two: "coronary", as the arteries which protect and nurture the heart; and "coronary" as Peter's music which protects and nurtures the poet that lives in my head).

There were things that happened in between, before and after the concert (in terms of my time in Albion), but Peter’s concert was the place where written words transcended the letters they were once formed from, dreams turned into reality, sound mixed with poetry, and the unknown left me struggling to catch the railing. Frankly (Mr. Shankly), when I arrived in London and climbed the seemingly never-fucking-ending vortex of stairs at Finsbury Park, dragging my luggage behind me (kudos to the guy who suggested I take the lift, then watched me struggle upstairs, his old green Reebok shoes an imprint on my mind), I never even guessed what I would be a part of days later at Peter's concert.

Now, when it comes to the art of 'concert reportage', I believe in authenticity, so I wrote the following paragraphs while lunching in Camden the day after the concert. Beware, my writing was influenced by my overwhelming excitement, shock (to the system), but also by exhaustion (blame the stairs at Finsbury Park and the fact that night buses from Bounds Green -one zero fucking seven, I am looking at you- live a life of their own, certainly undisturbed by my need to get from point A to point B and not to be stranded at a bus stop in the middle of the night, accompanied by a lonely fox staring at my cigarette like if it was food and the Full Moon), as well as circa million other emotions, piling atop the words like rain on the ground in Camden that day of "coronation"... :

I never thought that I'd experience the whole Royal Albert Hall singing ‘Tell the King’ and ‘The Man Who Would Be King’ a day before the coronation (editor's note number three: a beloved moment I couldn’t help but describe to everyone as I came home, especially those who asked me ‘but did you see the coronation’). Never thought I'd be dancing to (my favourite) 'Ballad of Grimaldi' and have my little nerd moment over hearing Peter talk about the meaning behind 'St. Jude' (editor’s note number four: it's one of my favourite songs exactly because of the part “St. Jude may hear my pleas / See me on my bended knees”), then sing along to 'I Get Along' (editor’s note number five: I have the refrain pinned on the wall at uni), as well as other scarcely or only once before performed songs played on Peter's acoustic, let alone watch people invade the stage while he's playing 'Time for Heroes' (but ‘did you see the ((stylish)) kids in the riots?’ I guess I fucking did!)… Guys from the row behind me jumping over my head to join others, then coming back and telling us about it. One of their friends went to the loos right before the stage invasion and thus missed the whole thing, so of course they all gathered to tease him with that "we've just been a part of something legendary and you've missed the whole thing" conversation.

I cannot say that I wasn't shocked; in the end, these were the wildest (?) "dreams" coming true, and the weirdest coincidences, as only that morning I said to my friend "I’m sad I never got to experience those wild years of stage invasions" (was the God of music listening? Whoever s/he is). To be absolutely honest, the experience was so overwhelming I think that I am only now coming back to reality, though I will not lie, it is a complex process. (Editor’s note number ?six?: The gin and tonic I consumed afterwards might have been at fault, too.)

The hours prior I was reading nature poets in Kensington's bookshops (I’m a romantic and ecocritic, shoot me), then walking around sunny Hyde Park, picking fallen blossom out of my hair, randomly bumping into old classmates (hi Magda!), this peaceful prelude to clear my head for the evening… then suddenly I’m crying to Hak Baker's support set (editor’s note number ??: his speech about mental health already had me tearing up, it turned to full on weeping as he talked about his mom), then I’m overwhelmed again, with joy too, seeing/hearing Peter – and shocked (to the core) but laughing (uncontrollably) as people sweep across the hall like a tsunami, jumping over a meter (or so) high barriers, knocking security guys down - because the poet said a word. You wouldn't be able to make any of that up, ever. And obviously, I was already more than happy (and quite emotional) that I came to London, but the following day, walking around Camden, the words of this random person I talked to after the concert suddenly hit me: "welcome to London". What a great city baptism. Now, writer's endnote: I do not think that we appreciate artists like Peter enough. For what they do for us in these moments, for how they can change our lives – with words, with music, and the magic that binds it all. What I've found since I started listening to Peter (& Carl, the Libertines and then the other dozen bands that came out of it all - bless 'em) is renewed passion for what I love, be it my poetry, writing, literature, art OR sailing (ok, flying) to Albion in pursuit of my dreams (and in pursuit of the never-fucking-ending vortex of stairs at Finsbury Park). And this, this is enough - truly, it is.

Thank you, Peter, the Albion is still on course. (But hey, where are we sailing next?)

-Karla

P.S. I apologize for the number of editor’s notes, I know it fucks up the (good) flow of the text and, as an editor and writer myself, I would give Karla here an earful about how she is supposed to control her "editor persona". Now, to prove how truly sorry she is, here are some more notes:

*Everything here (including the poem) is written by me. An edited version of this post should (soon) be also on my IG, along with videos.

*The phrase ‘because the poet said a word’ was my own invention (my friend Linda will testify to that); however, the good scholar that I am, I researched it yesterday to see if, maybe, it has been already used somewhere else, and while it seems it is original, I found connections to Emily Dickinson (such as her “This was a Poet—It is That” or “Shall I Take Thee”). This connection is purely unintentional, coincidental, but warms my heart nonetheless, especially when I know that Peter likes Emily’s poetry (and I do, too), and I wanted to point that out in case you people are poetry nerds like me, or would like some poetry recommendations.

*Addition to editor’s note number two: “coronary” and “coronation” both stem from the original Latin term “corona”; “coronary”, in particular, was derived from the medieval term "curuner" which was used for the person who had the (local) responsibility of protecting the crown. Ever thought of yer own heart as the “crown”? (I do have my “Karla the Linguist” moments.)

*Editor’s note number x (missing from the text): An hour before the gig I went for a tea into one of the bars at the Royal Albert Hall (it really was a tea!), and the girls behind the bar told me how it was ‘a quiet and slow day’ and I sat there, the room empty, and watched the staff around exchange jokes. I thought of that moment later as I watched the security/staff struggling to, somehow, control the masses.

*Anyone who wants to point out to me that ol’ Will Shakespeare thought that ‘Bohemia’ was reaching the Adriatic Sea at that time should understand that I am well aware of this possibility but, as a wannabe scholar, I feel inclined to test the limits of good ol’ William.

*Special thank you to everyone who made my stay in London an absolute dream come true (especially everyone at Muswell Hill and Rosebery Road where I was staying, local foxes and buses included), and to Linda for listening to my continuous storytelling these past few weeks (and being the first person to read this...what would my writing be, if I didn't have my people to share it with?).

#peter doherty #pete doherty #the libertines #albion #royal albert hall #peter riot (draft title)#poetry is alive #writers of tumblr #concert review #concert life #writing is hard #poems written in camden #artists on tumblr #i started this blog just so i could post this #london england #give it up for foxes and gin in teacups

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furrbbyx · 5 months ago

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Mermay submission

I started writing this because I wanted to make a mermaid yandere fanfiction based in Tamsin Ley's universe. And then I thought, make it lesbian because I need more lesbian monster love in my life. I never finished it, even though it was supposed to be a one shot because I got obsessed with word count, and the tone of the story. I also had a hard time getting to the smut, and the climax of the story because I had to build the complicated parts of taking home a sea creature who wants to consume their lover. And the end was supposed to be dramatic but I got tired writing it sooo

Here's the first part

Black lady mermaid X Black trans lady human

mentions of suicide ideation, pitfullness, sadness, misery, and boobs, and cursing

no minors beyond this point.

I submit to the monsterfucker society: "harsh as a siren"

When I bought the old gray wood house on the beach I thought I wanted to get away from the city, from people. Really I wanted to get away from my heartbreak. When Celia left me I was shattered. Everything about my life turned to a bunch of shards of broken dreams dashed against the unyielding ground that was Celia's indifference.

"I'm just not in love with you York! I tried ok? I tried to make this work but I'm not happy."

"I can change. I-I I can make you happy I promise, please Celia. You're everything to me, don't go. Don't leave please, god, don't leave."

Pathetic. I realize that now. I couldn't make that woman happy in a million years. It took a long time to realize that I'd been a placeholder for Celia. She had bigger plans for her life that hadn't included me.

So I left too, I got out of the city I knew. Left my apartment and my memories of what we'd had. Shit, I'd even left my job because I couldn't face the pity and the attempts to set me up with a rebound. I wanted to run away from the things that had shaped me and by the time I'd finished there was nothing to hold me together.

So yeah. I bought a little coffin for me to live in until I died of sorrow and loneliness. A small wind weathered house tucked in a cliff over-looking a beach of rounded sandstone boulders.

I ached for Celia and couldn't convince myself that we were over for good. For days after I moved in I would stare at the water and imagine ways that I could get her attention. I thought about trying to kill myself, about what it would feel like to drown in the freezing cold foamy waves. I thought up so many scenarios of my death that I would sometimes wake up after a nap confused that I was still in the house, still alive.

My favorite was a little daydream of me walking down the beach, wind whipping at my clothes, kind of tragic like that sea witch who had to become someone else just for a chance of happiness. Except I had no more chances. The round stones on the beach would slip and crunch under my steps as I paced the shore until I got to the finer sand. I would imagine sitting down and deliberately taking off my clothes and leaving them neatly folded for Celia to find, because she was going to come looking for me when she heard I'd been missing. I would walk into the ocean then, feeling a sense of ecstasy. The cold would be sweet, the first intense feeling I'd had that wasn't sorrow. I would just keep walking, until the waves grabbed me and rolled me over and over like flotsam.

I thought about this over and over for hours. When I was supposed to be working my remote job, I was thinking about dying. I didn't care about B2B, selling, making my boss money. I became obsessed with ending my life. Yet it felt like another thing that I couldn't fulfil, like Celia's needs. My own escape fantasy filled me with bitterness and longing until one night a vicious wind whipped up from the sea and I could swear it was calling for me.

It had been a particularly gruesome day. The tide had been distracting me with noisy splashes so I couldn't even pretend to be focused on my coworkers during meetings. The wind kept choosing the worst moments to rattle my windows and siding like a poltergeist, causing my connection to glitch during my presentation. I'd run out of beer and cannabis, so I wasn't even buzzed enough to get through without showing impatience and apathy like usual. My freaking bones felt like they were grating against reality. Every fucking thing was annoying me.

So when I finally logged off and saw that the short winter day had turned to night, and I heard the wind shaking my place for the thousandth time, I pushed away from my desk with a purposeful shove and made my way out to the beach.

Gusts of freezing wet, salty air immediately caught at my clothes and hair when I stepped outside forcing me to struggle to the sand. The tide was coming in, hitting the beach like a fist with loud, wild waves. It was dark on my little little slice of land, I could barely make out the stones underfoot as I picked my way towards the shore. Behind me my house groaned and swayed on the posts that held it above the storm surge level as if warning me back. A loud unhappy creak caused me to look back and wonder if the roof might be coming off.

The wind felt like it was picking me up, lifting me bodily into the night. It seemed to want to grasp and tear at everything. It whirled through the stunted twisted trees down the beach, it swirled the sand up into little dervishes, it howled and shrieked so loudly that I turned my face against it. But facing away from the biting sand and cold the howling became a distinct voice. It wasn't tangled up in the wind, nor was it the wind itself. I stopped to listen, rapt.

It wasn't a sound like the call of a gull, it was more like the vibrations left behind when the wind rattled against the house's siding. It reverberated in the air and against my eardrums, low and sad and....urgent. So urgent.

I looked back out to the sea and the sound was whipped away from my ears. Was the sea...did the sea want me?

I jerked into motion again, a bit heedless of the stone and shifting grit under my shoes. I hurried down the beach to the shore, not caring if I twisted an ankle or fell headlong into the churning water. Stopping just before the breaking waves, my body strung tight, I turned my head again to hear...

The calling was still there. Beating like a drum against my skull. Urgent. Come. Urgent. Come closer. A voice? But no words I could understand, just a compulsion, an impulse put into my limbs to keep walking into the water.

I turned my head trying to catch the sound, to tell how close it was. A gust carved up over the sea and into my chest bringing a splash of cold water over my shoes as the tide crawled forward.

"Fuck!" I stepped back annoyed with the icy squish of my suddenly soaked feet. The cold brought me back to my body a little. What was I doing? Was I going to walk into this roiling cauldron? Was this the night I would end it all?

For a long moment I watched the turbulent swash moving like a leviathan. It could swallow me so easily. It could take control of my life and make me anew.

Vibrations of urgency curled into my ears and around my brain again. There!

The wind died suddenly and I could pinpoint the direction. Over by the jetty to my right. I followed the calling, almost running towards it. I skirted past the the tide, ignoring the wind which had come back full force, and approached the rock jetty curving out from the shore. At first I couldn't see anything but the lumpy, jagged line of dark rocks making up the jetty. The song, someone singing to me, it was coming from here but I couldn't see anyone as I climbed the jetty.

Was someone in trouble? The sharpness of the song's pull was being dulled by my panic. Was someone drowning?

"I'm here! Do you need help?" I yelled into the night cupping my hands around my mouth hoping I was loud enough to hear over the waves and wind.

Come! Come! Here!

My ears picked up to the sound "Where are..." I started to call out but found myself unable to to make a sound as my eyes came alive with the improbable sight before me.

Pressed against the middle of the jetty by the incessant watery force of the waves was a woman. Half of her body was above the water. Her back was against the jagged rocks of the jetty, arms braced there to keep her from being drawn out to sea as the waves receded.

As I watched another wave surged. The woman looked at me with inhumanly shining eyes, her mouth stretched wide as if in a scream as the water rolled into and over her. She was lost for a moment in the dark water. Fear hit me like a boulder and I scrambled down the jetty towards her. As the water pulled back I reached her. The woman's thick curly hair was dripping water into her strange bright pink eyes.

Closer to her now, I realized why I had missed her in my search before. Her skin was as dark as the rocks she was trapped against. I could see the sea gathering strength for another heavy wave and I was desperate to help her before she was ripped into the tide.

"Give me your hands!" I yelled trying to be heard above the wind. I grabbed at her arms and tried to haul her out of the sea but she was heavier than I expected and dead weight. She must be exhausted from holding on, I thought.

I wrapped my hands around her arms and started to pull her up the beach along the jetty. The wave that was coming was going to cover both of us if I didn't hurry.

Her wet hands slipped against my skin, scraping me with her nails. I winced but I readjusted and kept pulling her even when I looked down and saw how her fingers were connected with a thin translucent webbing.

I didn't get far before the water burst over us and soaked me through. For a terrifying moment I thought I would loose her in the surf as my feet slipped on the rocks beneath me and I fell, landing hard. My foot jammed between two boulders with a painful twinge but the resistance prevented us from being sucked out to sea.

I panted and sputtered and kept dragging her even as I tried to push us closer to the beach, to shallower water. I was only able to get us a few more feet before the next wave broke, and thankfully it much weaker than the last.

I heaved in air, nearly gasping as I lay back against the rocks. My back was stinging with cuts from dragging myself over the jetty. My skin was chilly from the ocean water and I was starting to shiver. I still held the woman's forearms tightly.

I looked down to find her staring directly into my eyes, her own strangely pink and glimmering in the night, the brightest light on the beach. I couldn't look away even as the waves rocked us. Her arms were stretched out, webbed hands gripping my wrists. The rest of her body floating behind into the ocean.

I had to blink a few times to make sense of what I was seeing. Her naked torso, almost hidden by the water, ended at a pearlescent ghostly dorsal fin flattened against her back and flowed into round curving hips covered by taut, pink shimmering, and glowing white patterned scaled skin. I looked down her length, a thick solid shape where her legs should be, to a gently undulating satiny fan of a huge fish tail flipping in and out of the water.

"What the fuck" My voice sounded small. I sat up to get a better look, absolutely sure I was seeing things.

The woman watched me with a smile and a little chirrup slipped from her full lips. But the tail didn't disappear.

I dropped her arms and faltered in gaining my feet as they slid over the slippery smooth boulders. I was struggling to breathe more now than when I had tried to save her.

Her eyebrows snapped together into a frown as I backed away. A wave hit her back and pushed her closer to me. I could see her breasts, large and hanging in the water. Her chest expanded and she reached out of the water towards me.

Come!

I felt her desire thrum inside my bones. Her will communicated to me in a low resonating tingle against my skin and my mind. Her song was so much stronger this close. It caused an immediate reaction. My cock sprang to life in my waterlogged jeans pressing with a sudden painful throb against my lower belly. But her spell of sexual arousal was overwhelmed by my own feelings of white hot shame and confusion.

I had just tried to save this woman, this creature. Now I was betraying her by perving on her naked body? And betraying Celia. Wasn't I? I was utterly overcome and stunned by her otherworldly body and my reaction to it.

I turned into the night and ran.

#monster lover #monsterfucker #mermay #mermay 2024 #writeblr #writers on tumblr #monster girlfriend #monster romance #lesbian #the ranch house

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pielplastica · 8 months ago

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"I haven't locked the door, I was sure you'd come back" how White Night by Anna Akhmatova starts and ends. When I read it I thought of you. All poems I read remind me of you. And I want you to know that everything you see here, belongs to you.

I love that poem so much because it embodies such a powerful feeling of "I'll be waiting for you", and that's what I've been doing all these years. I feel like I should let go of you, delete this and try to not look back, but I can't because, if I'm being honest, don't want to. I don't want to leave.

I'll sound like an obsessive person, but I want to know more about you again. I want to know you from 0 again. I want to know what music you like, what you're into, what do you like to do when you're at home and if you cry at night when nobody's near. I want to be a part of your life again.

I want to get home and write you about my day, I want to wait until you get home and write about your day. I'd love if you could write about you every night and read you before going to bed...

I could never go. You're a part of me. "I've been waiting my whole life to know I wanted you". And I want to be honest, always.

I'm still sorry for the way I handled our situation back then. I never really wanted that to end, but I didn't knew how to properly adress my feelings with you. That's why I also didn't say nothing to you back then, because I was also dealing with the guilt of the way I treated you. I should've been more comprehensive with you. I should've grabbed your hand at our university's stairs and tell you how much I needed you and how sorry I am for not being a good person with you.

Guilt consumes us, but I want you to know that I do not resent anything because now I understand a lot of things I didn't back then. And sometimes I wonder, "what's the use of understanding now that you're gone?" Sometimes I feel like this is a losing game. That I could write for years about wanting you and still share a bed with someone else. That I could tell you in a million ways that I want you only for me being the only one who thinks this way.

And that's another problem with me. I guess you want to be sure that I am ok and not planning to dissappear from everyone, and if so, trust me that I won't. I have goals I want to achieve and places where I am needed. I feel like you're cheking on an old friend who you want to make sure won't put his finger into the wall outlet, and correct me if I am wrong, but I am not cheking on an old friend. I am writing my soul out to the person I still want.

I haven't locked the door. Never will I do so. Reading you don't wanting me to go was... not expected. I daydreamed about it a lot and now that it happened I just... froze up looking at my screen. I guess your feelings are clear, but thank you for letting them be known.

I won't go but please, neither do you so. Please, write more about your days. Tell me how you feel when you see the sky all orange in the distance, or how winter treated you.

I haven't locked the door. So please don't knock, just come in.

youtube

#also please take care with the earthquakes #don't leave your door locked when you go to bed #keep it open just in case #ps. I love this song so much #this one is about you

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thedailycourtney · 4 years ago

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On My Mind: 1

I don’t think I’m going to give any more money to politicians.

This year, and this last election specifically, made me question the purpose. The amount of money spent on elections, especially at a state or federal level, is grotesque. Honestly, does it even matter? With gerrymandering and voter suppression and humongous super pacs, and the number of lies/innuendo/misleading statements political advertisements legally contain, I can’t see that it does. Would my recurring $12 donation to Elizabeth Warren as penance for going to Taco Bell (rumor has it the CEO of Yum! Brands is a big Trump supporter) be better utilized in my own community? Absolutely, yes. The fuck am I doing giving to ActBlue Beto, or Amy, or Jaime, knowing, deep down, that it’s about as practical as sewing dollar bills into an airplane and trying to fly it to the White House.

(I feel kind of weird talking about this? I have a very modest donation budget, which admittedly mostly goes towards local animal rescue organizations annually, but I like to keep a discretionary portion for unplannable gofundmes, etc.)

(Side note: sometimes I just want a cheap, consistent, convenient Taco Bell specific bean burrito? Does EVERYTHING have to be such a big fucking deal? Sometimes a bean burrito is just ... a bean burrito. No more, no less. Not everything is a moral dilemma. Not everything is a thinkpiece.)

2020, in particular, was disgusting. Even from a cushy, privileged view, the obscene amount of spending, on ad space, on security, on transportation, on any number of other things, while so many people in our country were struggling, was just... gross. I’m done participating in that particular game. I hate politics in general, but I especially hate politics as it relates to government. As a very wise person (ICE-T) once said, “don’t hate the player, hate the game.” I really, really hate the game.

I wish money didn’t exist. I hate what it does to people, I hate how it changes people. I really hate that we need it to survive in this world, and I hate that it’s the forefront of almost everything here, in the U.S.

I’m obviously still going to vote, in every election, especially local elections, and I’m obviously still going to put up yard signs and shit, but I’m over all of it - an easy thing to say when you’re a middle aged, middle class white woman who will probably be just fine regardless. I recognize that, and I’m trying to reconcile how gross that makes me feel vs. the amount of detachment I need for my own self preservation. That sounds dramatic, but I do not have the fortitude to be outraged every day. I can’t sustain it. I don’t want to sustain it. I hate that everything has to be us vs them, zero gray areas, you’re posting constantly on social media, or you’re SILENT, you’re either toppling statues or you’re the oppressor, you’re calling out strangers on Twitter, or you’re complacent - and that’s just our side! You’re this, or you’re that. No room for nuance, no room for growth, no room for productive conversations. Definitely no room for redemption. If you think that makes me weak, I’m OK with it.

I used to think the word “content” meant you’d given up on being HAPPY! and just decided to settle into this boring, even-keeled existence. Maybe it does a little? I thought being content was the worst thing in the world - not EXUBERANCE! not FEELING EVERYTHING!! until I realized how happy being content every day makes me. LOL the irony. I worked hard for content! I aim for it! I revel in it! When I find myself getting off course, I do the little things to get me back - the journal, the woods walks, limiting social media, taking a booze hiatus.

I question people who are constantly STRIVING! DO MORE! BE BETTER! DON’T YOU DAAAARE EAT THAT BAGUETTE CRUMB, YOU ABSOLUTE MONSTER - AT LEAST NOT UNTIL YOU HAVE EARNED THAT CARB! CLIMB THAT MOUNTAIN!!!! “Better” isn’t a six week program, or a life coach yelling at you, or a linear, quantifiable Instagram live. At some point, you run out of mountains to climb, so you climb the same one, over and over and over some more. You’re a hamster, with a wheel. Sit still with yourself. That’s the hard part.

Whew, this got long, and really took a turn there at the end. I took an extended break from sharing anything with real substance here - I’m way too sensitive for the internet - but I think I may be ready to now? Probably. Maybe.

But I’ll still never again turn on anon messaging.

#I have never said this out loud before #when I'm finished being a useful cog in the U.S. machine #aka retirement #I can't picture me living here full time #in a million years I never thought I'd daydream that #and yet

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obscenitymoving · 2 years ago

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(anon who asked about how you found out you had szpd, again)

would you be able to describe what the 'split' in schizoid pd is like for you, personally? and would you believe it is generally the same among all schizoids or can their personal interpretations of the split vary depending on who they are?

in addition, i'm having trouble telling how to differ between szpd symptoms and personality traits and ways of being as a person, since i presume schizoids' experiences will vary as they're all their own people, too. i'm unsure whether you'd be able to explain this for me? that may seem peculiar and i know you're not the SzpdTM Authority pfff but you're the first person i found to ask

i ask this as someone who is wondering whether they have szpd but who has a Loooot of issues in dealing with figuring that out (plus doubt is not fun when you have ocd and obsessively intrusive thoughts that revolve around trauma conditioned mindsets that are contrary to accepting and understanding myself in relation to the pd, let me say that...) so i just figured i'd send another ask ^_^ once again your answers and time are appreciated!

hi again. i have to assume it can be similar between other schizoids as much as it can be different but since i literally do not know anyone else whos schizoid i really dont have much to compare my own experience to. my own experience is much like how it was discussed in the post i linked before. my "inner" world is very very rich, i cannot tell you just how much time i spend immersed inside my self where it is considered "safe". even as a kid i thought i was just a 'maladaptive daydreamer' but its since evolved way past that. like, to a point where i cannot imagine a world in which i dont rely on my inner machinations. mostly i can just describe it as making ocs and literally focusing on their world almost 24/7. its a "safe" situation which i can entirely control. i dont think i can go even an hour without retreating back into that world, even when im entirely alone and theres nothing to "hide" from so to speak. where on the other hand the way i present myself to other people is very stereotypical. ive been called a robot and the like. i lack empathy and i never reach out to people first. im not entirely stoic, mostly because i dont think any person can truly be entirely emotionless, but id describe the feelings as very fleeting, at least for the outside world. i get over arguments very quickly because its simply not in my nature to be angry for very long. when i do cry (which is very very rare for me even in the safety of my room) its for 5 minutes at most and i immediately "get over it". my joy feels more like instant gratification instead of something lasting.

i cannot really tell you just how much of who i am is because im a schizoid or if its just my normal personality i wouldve had regardless. mostly because i think just in the way schizoid forms it makes it very difficult for us to hold onto a certain identity. i mean we're literally the personality disorder without a personality. ive spent years trying to figure out who i was, went by 20 different million names, used 20 million different identities, etc. i feel slightly more solid in now, which is interesting i suppose. just the fact that i am a schizoid has given me a good identifier in who i am. on my insta i cannot even begin to describe to you just how much i mention my szpd. its all i talk about sometimes. when i had a job last year (which i quit because customer service is um... it doesnt work for obvious reasons) it was all i talked about. because it was all i had to identify myself. now that im jobless and about to start college, ive latched onto Being A College Student because its all i have, and its all i feel safe sharing to other people. that last part is important because i truly do think we have personalities, its just we dont feel safe showing it to the rest of the world, by showing it, the delicate way in which we control our inner environment will be "invaded" by the "outside world". its one of the reasons i quit art. i could not stand showing my art to people and then them forcing their own emotions and ideas onto it.

im sorry about the last paragraph you sent. unfortunately i cant really help or give much advice beyond what ive already said because it just came so naturally to me. well it wasnt that smooth obviously, but the only thing i really had to get over was my own self doubt and thinking that one regular experience or two entirely invalidated me being a schizoid (which it doesnt). the best i can say is i wish you luck and i hope my annoying ramble-y paragraphs helped you in some way. as always feel free to send more asks and i do hope you can find other schizoids to talk to! my own experiences are very limited.

#long post #asks #⛧ anon

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johnkrrasinski · 4 years ago

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burning desire;

full masterlist

Pairings: Ari Levinson x reader x August Walker

Word count: 2,779

Warning: SMUT!!!! familial sex (step-uncle & niece), threesome, dirty talk, mentions of alcohol.

Summary: your step-uncle, ari levinson, brought a friend, august walker to his house one night during you stayover and things heated up real fast.

a/n: this idea popped into my head out of nowhere and i just had to write it immediately. (my other wips are sobbing so hard right now) enjoy! please leave a comment & like.

The mid-August air feels clammy on your skin, and the daylight glared brightly into your eyes, but thank the heavens that you were clad in nothing but your pastel pink bikini and your eyes were protected by your heart-shaped sunglasses. you always loved basking in the sun in uncle Ari's pool in his massive backyard. Your parents were currently out of town for business matters, as they always were and when they were away, you always stayed at uncle Ari's place.

His place was only thirty minutes away from your parents' house and you always loved coming over to his house. What's not to love? The fact that it was just as huge as your parents', designed grandiosely and located in a secluded area made you wish you could just move here. Not that your parents' was any less palatial but- okay, honestly, your parents' house was just as fancy and you were the princess ruling your little castle, so what was really the reason that you wanted to move here so badly?

If you're being honest to yourself, it was because of your ridiculously good-looking uncle. Seriously, the man had no right to be that attractive at that age. He was nearing his 40's and he could still make every woman in his path weak on the knees. His cerulean blue eyes, the thick beard and those ripped muscles never ceased to make a particular part of your body tingle when he is nearby. It wasn't helping either that he'd touch you so close to the part where you wanted him the most when you two were alone, or that he would speak in a really low tone by your ear, causing you to shiver. And you definitely didn't miss those flirty glances when he thought you weren't watching or when you were dressed in something a tad provocative.

It was as if you were playing a secret cat and mouse game that you were both aware of and you both kept playing but no one dared to admit to partake in it or put it to an end by making a move. The tension in the dining table when your parents invited him to come over for dinner or when it was just the two of you watching a film on the couch and you would lift your legs and fold them so your bare thighs would be displayed for him (which you would pretend you weren't aware of its effect on him.)

You were lost in your daydreams of him tearing that bikini off your body and fucking you rough in this pool as the water splattered around you when you heard his voice.

"Enjoying yourself?" his smirk was smug as if he could see the pornographic movie that was playing in your head.

"Uncle! give a girl a warning, will you?" you tried to maintain your composure, not wanting to show him the wet stain in your thong.

He walked closer to you and crouched down to your level. "Didn't wanna disturb you, you looked so relaxed, I thought I'd give you a few more minutes." Was he watching you? How long had he been standing there? "I got a friend coming over tonight, to watch the game. Just wanted to let you know."

"it's your house uncle, you don't need my permissions to have a friend come over." You chuckled.

"I wasn't asking for permission sweetheart, I was just informing you so you wouldn't be startled to see a stranger in the living room," he stood back up. "I got some errands to run. I'll see you tonight." you scoffed. Curt and enigmatic as always.

You were lounging in the room that Ari specifically spared for you. There were six bedrooms in his house alone and five of them were empty. He figured you must have your own personal space every time you visited. You walked to the kitchen to grab some snacks when you were stopped by Ari’s voice calling your name.

“C’mere, say hi to my friend, August.”

The sight of the man sitting on the couch next to your uncle stopped you in your tracks. My God, he looked like a Greek god. His sleek black hair was combed to the side and moustaches weren’t your thing but damn, he rocked it so well. His blue eyes took your breath away as he smiled at you and shook your hand.

“Oh, so you’re the friend uncle told me about.”

“Well, your uncle here doesn't have that many friends so I might be the only friend of his you’ll ever hear.” oh, the things his voice is making you feel…

You chuckled, “well, I don’t wanna be a bother. You guys are watching the game, right? I was about to grab some-”

“No, of course not. Come, sit. We can all enjoy the game together, right?” He took a sip of his beer.

“I’m not really into-”

“We insist.” His tone left no room for argument.

“…okay, I guess.” August and Ari made a room on the couch for you so you sat between them. To say you were nervous was an understatement. A million scenarios were going through your head right now. The image of being sandwiched between these two bulky men with your clothes off was making you uneasy. You were only wearing a big loose shirt that barely reached your mid-thighs. You weren’t wearing any undergarments except a black lace thong because it was summer and petit clothing items were all you packed. (Not like you were trying to impress a certain person, not at all.)

“You want one?” August offered you a drink. “Yeah, sure.” You were an adult now so what’s the harm in one? Your parents were thousands of miles away and it wasn’t like you had to worry about dealing with the hangover in the morning.

August put his arm on the headrest, behind your head and it made your breath hitch. You put your leg over the other to cover the arousal growing in your extremely minimum underwear. Ari took a sip of his beer and then spread his legs and the side of his thigh graze yours and you were growing hotter every second. It was as if they could sense your arousal and fooled around to rile you. You had to take control over your breathing but it was getting more challenging every passing minute.

“So, y/n, what are your plans for college?” August broke the silence.

“I actually am in college. I’m currently in my second year and I always come home during summer.”

“Oh, you certainly don’t look like any older than nineteen. My bad.”

“It’s alright, uncle.”

“August is fine.” He was watching you intently as if he was paying attention to every detail on your face. What was he looking for?

“What are you studying?”

“I’m in fashion design.”

“Suits you.” He winked, retreating his arm from the headrest, to open another bottle of beer.

August asked you several questions about yourself and you answered every single one. After a couple more bottles and the soothing sound of the TV, you found yourself getting drowsy. It felt nice being in the presence of these two beautiful men so you let yourself drift away. You didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep on Ari’s shoulder. When Ari called your name in a low voice and you didn’t open your eyes, Ari and August looked at each other and were ready to execute their plan.

Little did you know Ari had been talking about you to August for months. Who was he kidding? Of course, Ari was attracted to you. You were hot, young and promiscuous. Also, something about the fact that you were his brother's stepdaughter turned him on even more. He and August had been friends since college and they shared a lot of things ever since. They had many hookups with women whom they shared with. They were also business partners of a company that had bestowed them a lot of fortune. Hence Ari’s swanky place and the fact that he stayed single throughout all these years. He was never the ‘settle down’ type. He never told you about his business partner, you only knew that he existed, you just didn’t know his identity.

August sniffed your scent on your open neck, and the vanilla smell turned him on. He began to spread your legs and caressed your thigh until he reached your underwear. He chuckled when he felt the delicate material on his fingers, “she’s practically begging for us to fuck her brains out on this couch.”

“You should see what she wears every day in this house, it’s like she wants me to pounce on her,” Ari replied.

“She’s soaked. She should’ve just asked, we would’ve obliged immediately.” August rubbed you in circular motions through your thong and when he felt you growing wetter, he pushed your panties to the side and inserted two fingers into your entrance.

You gasped in your slumber, feeling something scissoring you open but your head was too fuzzy to figure out what was happening. August curled his fingers and stroked your G-spot and your breathing became ragged. You began to stir and mumbled under your breath. Your brows furrowed and when August’s fingers moved faster in and out of you and Ari began fondling your breasts through your thin shirt, your opened your eyes.

“Uncle Ari…”

“Shh, just sit back and enjoy, sweetheart. We’re gonna make you feel good.” He whispered sultrily in your ear. You whimpered when August’s thumb circled your clit, causing your head to spin. “God, you’re so hot. I’ve been waiting to put my dick into this tight pussy for months now.” August whispered in your other ear.

Your hand went into August’s wrist, needing to hold onto something. You knew this was wrong, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell them to stop or get up and run to your room. Ari’s hand went to your jaw to turn your head to him and kissed you with fervently. He licked your bottom lip and you made room for his tongue to tangle itself with yours. You were making out on the couch with your uncle as his friend had his knuckles buried deep in you.

You felt your muscles tightening and then the dam broke, making a mess all over August’s fingers. He watched your expression as you hit your peak. The image of you losing your mind sent electricity right to their cocks and they were eager for more now. They couldn’t wait to see the face you were going to make when they gave you a bigger one.

You thought they would at least give you a few seconds of repose after the onslaught but you should’ve known better. You knew that Ari was a hustler when it comes to what his heart desired. And now, his body yearned for you and he didn’t waste any time in undressing you from the scanty garments you had on.

August sucked on the sensitive spot of your neck, leaving little love bites here and there before biting the spot where he wanted to mark you. You bit your lip at the thought of parading around Ari’s house with those sensual bruises reminding of the sinful act the three of you committed last night. You didn’t think as far as how you were going to act around Ari now after tonight but you were surely hoping that this wasn’t a one-time thing.

Ari was still possessing your mouth with his, his plump lips felt soft on yours and they tasted even better than your fantasy. Ari pulled his lips away from yours and looked at his partner, “should we do doggy or missionary?” Ari asked as if you weren’t there at all.

“Missionary, I wanna see those tits bounce,” he smirked against your skin.

“Fuck yeah,” Ari keened.

They began stripping and you couldn’t help but watch. My God, they were sculpted to perfection by the hands of God themselves. The sweat on their skin made them glow from the ray of the TV. They pulled down their pants and their massive cocks sprung free and you could’ve come right there. Their packages were impressive, would they even fit inside you? You were drooling at the sight and you needed them to fill you up right now or you were going to explode.

“Lay back,” Ari commanded.

You did as he said and folded your legs to make room for Ari. The couch was large enough to fit two more people in here but you needed them as close as possible. Ari knelt on the couch and August was above your head. They both began stroking themselves as they kept their eyes on your naked body. Ari was staring at your drenched pussy and August imagined spurting all over your breasts.

“Open your lips, little girl.” You obliged and August pushed the tip of his cock into your lips and he pushed deeper until the tip hit the back of your throat. You looked up at him staring down at you with a predatory look. Ari pushed his cock into your entrance and your tight walls welcomed him with open arms causing him to throw his head back and groaned.

Ari had his hands on your thighs to keep them apart and he began pulling out until only the tip was left in you and pushed back vigorously like he was trying to invade your body. August began moving at the same pace, and he groped your breasts, pinching the nipples. The sting elicited a moan out of you, causing a delightful vibration flowing in his bones.

“Fuck, you’re as tight as I imagined,” Ari grunted. Your warmth wrapped his girth and he pounded into you as your breasts jiggled from the rough pounding. He lifted your legs onto his shoulders so he could delve deeper. He impaled the spot that made you forget your name and you clenched around him. The squelching noises that your pussy made blended with his pre-cum were lewd.

August grunted as you took him in your mouth as much as you could. You struggled to control your breathing with Ari ramming into you mercilessly and August’s size intruding your throat but you were getting off on it. You felt every inch of them inside you, the velvety skin and the raw taste were intoxicating. You hollowed your cheeks and let August use you. Let them both use you like a rag doll.

Soon, you were both moving in sync as the couch squeaked due to the impetuous action happening on it. Ari accelerated, chasing his own orgasm and you pulsated. The familiar pressure forming once more, ready to burst any second now. His cock throbbed and you tightened around him. A few more deep-seated thrusts and he came undone, painting your walls with his hot cum and filling you up so well.

You fell apart beneath him as well, moaning in ecstasy around August. If you weren’t muffled by his cock, you would’ve screamed so loud. You trembled and your legs shook. He pulled out of you and watched his juices leak out of you. The soreness between your thighs was pleasant and you were completely spent from Ari alone but you were definitely satisfied. If only your parents could see the blasphemous act you and your uncle had just committed. And you weren’t even finished yet.

August chased his own climax as well, needing to release the tension in his muscles. Profanities fell from his lips as he released on your tongue and you swallowed every drop of him. You were a sweet tooth but his salty taste had you addicted. You whimpered and panted on the couch, hoping that one of them would give you a warm bath to clean you up and bring you to your comfortable bed and wrap you in your blanket but then,

“We’re not done yet, princess.” August and Ari switched places and now August was kneeling between your legs while Ari was above your head. God, you were so worn out, you didn’t know if you had any more energy left in you to take them again. “You’re all ours tonight. And we’re gonna keep playing with until we’re satisfied. And trust me, we are far from being satisfied.” August whispered huskily in your ear as his raging hard cock penetrated you and Ari pushed himself through your opening lips and you could taste yourself on every inch of him.

Looks like it was going to be a long night.

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sharkneto · 3 years ago

Note

7 and 15, and I want you to actually think about 15, really introspect bc you went from nearly nothing to several novels worth in a single year and I'm curious as to what the tipping point was.

(from get to know your author ask game)

7) when asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

Unfortunately a bit embarrassed, even though the irl people who know have always been really nice and supportive about it. I think it's the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known because I am proud of what I've written but as soon as I find out an irl friend has read one of my fics I want to curl up and die lmao

15) why did you start writing?

I can't believe you want actual introspection on this that's so cruel. A Full Answer I will give you, though, because you asked for it.

Under a Read More because I got rambly whups --

I do think it was a perfect storm of inspiration, motivation, and time. I've written the equivalent of fic in my head for a decade - my daydreams are really text based, more-so than action/image based as I'll think of the action happening but narrate it as it happens (does that make sense?) I just never actually wrote any of it down, it stayed in my head to replay and play with. In July? August? of 2020 I watched the Umbrella Academy for the first time and was pulled right in, did my usual rewatching and fanfic reading. I think what made this time different, though, is that I had a lot of time on my hands to do my mental "fic"-writing. My job is very manual based so I'm free to think all day. I work by myself because of covid precautions, the only person in my little building, so no other person to talk with or distract me from it. I'd come home to my apartment I live alone in. Rinse and repeat while I just kept stewing on TUA.

The first idea I had where I had the thought of "oh, I could actually write this" was an inspired interview with Allison and then Five, structured like a magazine interview, to explain his return. I was really smitten with that idea, was having a lot of fun thinking about it, and no one else had written anything like it despite me wanting to read it. So, when I got home from work that night, I booted up Word and started doing just that.

And you know what? It was super fun. So I kept poking. I work limited hours because of work-place covid precautions, too, so I also had a lot of time to write. I wrote some more. Started some other little WIPs, started what has become Joining Together. Went on a walk after Thanksgiving to look at Christmas lights, feeling lonely and sorry for myself because I wasn't going to see any family for the holidays, and thought up Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. I was so pleased with how that one came out that I did the unthinkable and posted it on AO3 before I could psych myself out - and proceeded to obsess over every single hit it got.

And you all! You all were so goshdarn nice, so goshdarn supportive of my little trial, that I went and wrote another little thing, a companion to the first, and shared that, too (Faithful Friends Who Are Dear To Us). Lo and behold, you all were really nice about that one too. Third times the charm and on a night when I couldn't sleep, I thought about Five being up and drunk and Luther stuck trying to get him to bed, I took some notes, finally found some sleep, and wrote Lonely Drunk when I woke up the next day. And I've been truly hooked on the joy of sharing my silly little writing ever since.

How things got insane, how I got to be a person who wrote almost half a million words in one year, I don't know. I ask myself that, too. Lots of time to be writing is number one. Good friends who motivate me and let me ramble at them with new ideas and snips is number two. An audience who is so supportive and wonderfully vocal to make this more social than just me by myself writing for me (although I am my target audience) is a huuuuge bonus. This is a really rambly way to say - it was fun. I had time to fill, needed a hobby, had had ideas floating around my head - just waiting to be put to paper - for years, and needed a way to connect with people while working and living alone in the middle of a pandemic. And writing fic somehow happened to hit the perfect niche of all of those things. It's all been so unexpected and I've gotten to write things I never dreamed I'd write, find catharsis and so much joy - it's been a wild ride. Can't wait to see where it takes me next.

#there you go sail friend #i answered as thoroughly as i think i can #ficblogging

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imo-chan-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

『 Haikyuu!! Week 2020 | Day 5 』

· Sept. 29th → Habit is Second Nature ·

Characters: female!reader, Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou, Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi Tadashi (+ bonus characters: Bokuto Koutarou, Kuroo Testurou)

Prompts: A. best character development + B. patterns and habits

Tags/warnings: Haikyuu!! (anime), PG, fluff, headcanons, patterns and habits, best character development

A/N: I haven't done any character x reader stuff for this challenge yet because I tend to do NSFW stuff. But I thought I'd do some fluffy stuff about the characters with the best development and their habits as your boyfriend! (Plus a couple of bonus boys, because I couldn't help myself!! 🥰)

All my Haikyuu Week 2020 posts will be SFW, but I have NSFW stuff on my blog too. Feel free to take a gander. Thanks for reading! Please enjoy ♡ Imo~

Haikyuu × reader / patterns and habits

☆ Kageyama Tobio ☆

Gets up at 5:30am to go for a run every morning but forgets to send you a 'good morning' text don't be upset, it just doesn't really occur to him

Gets all giddy when he receives one from you, though literally cannot stop smiling. Doesn't know what to do with himself

Often forgets his pencil case and comes by your class to borrow stuff

When he buys milk from the vending machine, he will start buying some for you as well without you asking he's trying to show he cares

Milk makes him happy, so it should make you happy too, right? 😭

Frowns and blushes when you start hugging and nuzzling him in public he'll start stammering, too, if you took him by surprise

But then he pouts when you stop 🤭

Is embarrassed about asking you to touch him my poor touch-starved baby 😭

Blushes and looks at the floor whenever he talks about something romantic or intimate

Leans his forehead against yours when he wants to express how he feels but doesn't know how I might be crying...

He loves hearing the sound of your voice, so he often falls asleep while in the middle of a late-night phone call with you you can hear the soft sound of his breathing through the receiver 😭😭

Writes down important dates you tell him because he just knows he's going to forget them

Discretely interlaces his fingers with yours when he feels vulnerable prOTECT HIM

Lots and lots of hugs from behind because eye contact can be a bit much for him, and he's sometimes nervous about you seeing his face

Can get angry and shout at you without warning when he's stressed or upset, and he feels terrible after

Writes out his apologies on reams and reams of paper and rehearses them a million times in front of the mirror but somehow still forgets most of it?

Smiles like a literal angel when he does something to make you happy that's all he wants, y'all 😭

Will try his best at everything, whether it's trying new things with you or doing the same old stuff he's always done

Nuzzles the back of your neck when you're spooning, and kisses his way across your shoulders and down your back as a way of saying, 'I love you and you're mine'

☆ Hinata Shouyou ☆

Says the cheesiest, most romantic things to you with a straight face, but blushes and hides his face when you return the favour

Bounces around the room when he's excited

Always asks you how your day was and is genuinely interested

Rests his head on your shoulder when you're sitting together

Shouts really loudly at random moments because of surprise/frustration/excitement/any sudden emotion, really 😅 gives you mini heart attacks

Always sneezes really fucking loudly??

Sends you adorable cat videos when he knows you've had a bad day

Subtly presses his leg against yours whenever you're sat together, especially when you're both supposed to be studying 👀

Wipes your cheeks and kisses the end of your nose whenever you've been crying

Sings in the shower because he thinks you can't hear him

Will give his gym towel to you with a smile whenever you get soaked in the rain rather than dry himself off

Treasures every little gift you get him

Is fine becoming a human hot water bottle by little-spooning every month when your period comes around he runs at a really high temperature, and actually really enjoys it. So cute 😍

Runs down the halls to your class every break to bring you your favourite drink from the vending machine

Loves sharing cakes with you and feeding each other it sounds cringy, but he makes it so cute and natural

Always pulls goofy faces when he Snapchats you

Leaves you cute voicemails when he wanted to talk to you but you're busy

Shows up unannounced at your house when he's troubled because he just really needs to see you

If he just sees your face, then he knows that it's somehow going to be alright

Y'all, I can't 😭😭🤧

☆ Tsukishima Kei ☆

Teases the crap out of you on a regular basis just to see you all pouty and frustrated

Pretends not to remember your birthday/anniversary/etc. every year so he can drop by your house later that day and surprise you with a gift

Pulls your cheeks when he thinks you're being too cute

Kisses the ends of your fingers when he wants to show affection but doesn't know how

Flicks your forehead whenever he thinks you're being stupid or irritating 🙄

Lowkey blushes every time he sees you cheering for him in the stands I SEE THAT LITTLE SMILE, TSUKKI

Makes you sit on his lap all the time for no good reason other than to tease you bruh

Often ends up taking the teasing too far and winds up feeling rotten because you're now genuinely upset

Sucks at applogies, but will always try to set it right if he's at fault, even if it's awkward

Gives the biggest, warmest hugs when he wants to which isn't much, but hey. Take what you can get

Always sends you a text to make sure you've got home safe, but it's never in those words. It's always under the guise of something else Tsukki, pLEaSE

Grumbles to himself out of jealousy whenever you show attention to other guys, especially his brother

Deliberately gives you his sweaters and hoodies to wear after a shower because he thinks it's super cute, but acts like it's nothing you ain't slick, Tsukki 🤣

☆ Yamaguchi Tadashi ☆

Reaches for your hand first whenever you're together

Nose and forehead kisses when he sees you in the morning

Hand-picks a bunch of flowers for you every Monday because he knows you hate Mondays 🥺🤧

Waits for you at the gate after school every day

Always stands up for you, no matter what he may be soft, but he's not a WUSS 😠

Asks to borrow your other earphone whenever you're listening to something

Wants to spoon with you whenever he's feeling down and you'll never refuse

Always arrives 15 minutes early for every date despite changing his outfit several times out of nervousness

Blushes in pride whenever he lends you his jacket because you're cold adorbs

Sends you little pick-me-up messages when you're busy so you can read them when you're free

Helps you tie up your hair for gym class, and is surprisingly good at making pretty hairstyles

Traces his fingers over your palms and other body parts whenever you're curled up together

Has your name saved on every social media and contact list as something cute like 'My Sunshine 💛' or 'My Honeybee 🐝'

Twiddles his hair around his finger a lot, especially when he's daydreaming about you let's hope he doesn't start balding 😭

Will rush to your class with an umbrella on rainy days in case you forgot one

Loves sitting on the swings with you whenever you pass them on the way home, and making you giggle by pushing you higher and higher

(Bonus boys)

☆ Bokuto Koutarou ☆

Sends a stream of soppy hype-texts every morning for you to wake up to

Will stop by your house and pick you up for school, even if you live literal miles away from him he just wants to see you

Grabs you by the waist and picks you up at least once a day, often in front of a crowd of people he's a fan of PDA

Peppers you with kisses when he sees you for the first time each day

Hypes you up to no end. Literally cannot sing your praises enough

Is constantly looking for compliments, and is not-so subtle about it

Gets easily depressed when you don't notice he did something differently etc.

Will kiss you in front of everyone when he wins a game and you come down to congratulate him literally doesn't care. He's too proud of you

Is constantly asking for massages, whether or not he needs them, because he enjoys the contact

Sometimes you want to staple his mouth shut because he has a habit of getting too excited and talking with his mouth full 🙃

Doesn't stop texting you and sending you Snapchats

Is kind of oblivious if he's done something that upset you, and starts freaking out when someone Akaashi finally tells him

Doesn't plan or rehearse his apologies, because he literally just says exactly what he means 100% of the time

May start choking up and crying if what he did was bad enough, because he just feels so, so guilty

Constantly reminds you when you said you would make him a lunchbox because he loves it so much and wants to boast to his friends

Likes you sitting on his lap while you do stuff together I mean...👀

Calls you 'puppy' and 'kitten' etc. unabashedly in public boi, pLEASE

Insists on giving you piggyback rides whenever your feet hurt 🐷

Saves every single selfie you send him. He treasures every single one, and tears sometimes come to his eyes when he scrolls through them he's so whipped for you, my gal

☆ Kuroo Testurou ☆

Stays up all night texting you he might be getting bags

But it's fine. It just adds to the emo look

Takes your bag and carries it for you without you asking him to

Facetimes you randomly

When you ask what it's about, he says he just missed you/wanted to see your face smooth mf

His hand always finds its way around your waist whenever you're walking together

He scrolls through your old conversations when he misses you

Will ruffle your hair to tease you just so he can spend the next 20 minutes brushing it for you

Steals food from your lunch every day he's lucky he's pretty

Stands outside your house with a boombox blasting love ballads like a giant nerd when he wants to surprise you just imagine it for a second. Let the image sink in

Ends up stroking your hair when you're cuddling together

And subconsciously cradles your stomach a lot because he really wants to start a family with you Testu!!! 🥺😭🤧

Always sends you 'Send This To Your Crush Without Context' videos, despite the fact that you guys have literally been dating for years no caption or anything, either. Just the video

Will probably continue to do it even once you're married, tbh

Always, always, always walks you home

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