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#not much is happening on this page but it still took FOREVER to finish that cityscape; i'm suing myself for damages >:'0
edorazzi · 15 days
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Page 9 of my Miraculous Mentor AU comic A Matter of Trust! In which Felix goes roof-hopping for the first time as Chat Noir - but he's not alone out there! 👀
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katiefrog217 · 1 month
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AziraCrow | Book Reading
(Scroll down for mini story vvvv) + (Companion Piece)
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Aziraphale liked books, especially the old ones. They were the main reason for owning his bookshop, after all.
He loved reading them, too. Sitting quietly in the back of his bookshop with a good book and the occasional accompaniment of an old record made for quite the delightful evening, in his opinion. Despite his being handless (and therefore, fingerless), Aziraphale was perfectly capable of turning pages on his own. Not with his talons of course; Heaven only knew the trouble that would come from attempting to turn the aging and potentially fragile paper with such unreliable instruments. It would be a simple enough fix if a page did happen to tear, but the memory would haunt him forever. Instead, all it took was a flick of his wing and woosh, the pages would turn themselves. Sometimes he just had to ask nicely. However, there were times that he didn't need to expend the effort.
Those times just so happened to coincide with a particularly serpentine visitor.
Crowley's visits were irregular and not always predictable. Most of the time he would pop in to complain about Who-Knows-What and disappear off to Who-Knows-Where. Sometimes he would stay longer, and they would share a glass of wine or some other alcohol, chatting a lot about nothing and reminiscing about times long passed until the shadows grew long. On rare occasions they would sit in comfortable silence, doing nothing more than enjoying each other's company. Aziraphale would then pick a book to read and Crowley would slither over to join him.
Of course, Crowley didn't like reading - or at least claimed he didn't. 'Not worth his time,' he'd say dismissively. Still, he (bored expression and all) would come, make himself comfortable by coiling around both the book stand and Aziraphale, and just watch. Just about anyone on Earth would likely be uncomfortable being stared down by such an intense gaze, but not Aziraphale. Over the many millennia, he has grown used to being observed by those golden eyes. Dare he say, he even found it comforting in a way, but that was besides the point.
He wasn't sure how it started; perhaps Crowley found himself overly bored that day, but he began turning the book pages whenever Aziraphale raised his wing to compel them instead. It had started him at first, and he had looked to Crowley with much confusion, though the demon had nothing to say in return. He merely shrugged (or at least it could be considered the serpentine equivalent of a shrug) and turned away. A few more pages in, and he'd turn them again. This happened over and over until Aziraphale heaved a sigh gave in, allowing the serpent to do as he wanted. At first, it was quite awkward to give verbal cues, and there were times when he became so engrossed in his reading that he forgot entirely, but eventually they settled into a comfortable rhythm. Nowadays he didn't even bother. It had become almost automatic: Aziraphale would finish the page and it would turn, no questions asked.
Aziraphale suspected it would baffle the minds of many to see a demon treat anything so gently, yet Crowley turned the pages in such a way that they were never bent nor crumpled. In fact, it seemed to him that the older the book was, the gentler Crowley'd be. He seemed... 'content' was the wrong word to describe his attitude towards the activity, but he never said a word otherwise. At least, not to Aziraphale.
He never pointed this out, of course. Crowley would stop doing it if he did, and he didn't WANT him to stop. He enjoyed it too much.
Once in a blue moon, Crowley would make a comment about whatever Aziraphale was reading at the time. It was often snide, mocking, not always audible. Hisses of exasperation or an exaggerated eye roll were not uncommon either. Then he would turn away, bored despondence washing over his face, shutting down any attempts to further the conversation. Not that he would respond if Aziraphale did, though that hadn't stopped him from trying. On one occasion Aziraphale had tried to push the topic, only for Crowley to deflect, insisting that he had only glanced the passage at random. He stopped turning the pages then. Aziraphale never tried again and settled with only giving him sidelong glances when he said something particularly egregious.
And so they would read, the silence broken only by the ticking of an old clock and the occasionally rustle of a page.
...
Aziraphale liked his books.
He liked reading them alone in his bookshop.
But he liked them best when Crowley was there to turn the pages for him.
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temiizpalace · 4 months
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☆┆MY LAST NAME BELONGS TO YOU!
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SUMMARY: writing your name out, with his last name!
CHARACTERS: basketball club + azul and leona
GENRE: fluff
WARNINGS: reader is referred to as [mc] – not really a warning, just kinda cringe – mentions of pursuing marriage in floyd and azuls part
ROMANTIC, RELATIONSHIP IS UP TO READER
reader is g/n, reader is yuu
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♥️┆ACE TRAPPOLA
“man, this stinks..”
ace whispered under his breath as professor trein droned on with the lesson. he was struggling to keep his eyes open. as much as he wanted to just fall asleep in the middle of the lesson, he really really didn’t want to add to his homework pile.
that’s just more precious hours of his day wasted. all the repetitive sounds were oddly enough lulling him to sleep. the grating sounds of grim snoring, the weird twang noise deuces rubber band was making, and the sounds of pencils writing against paper.
“hey deucy, make sure not to fall asleep.” he whispered to ace, as if he wasn’t about to do the same. deuce gives him a look, about to open his mouth before trein had looked in their direction. ending their banter immediately.
to keep himself awake, ace started doodling in his notebook. not in the corner as most would, no he began doodling on a brand new sheet of paper. curious as to what you were doing, it seems you were notetaking at first.
but getting a closer look, you were doing the same as him. doodling in the notebook, barely paying attention to the lesson. he snickered, deep down grateful that he wasn’t the only one not paying attention.
‘hah. look at that idiot, not paying attention. they’d have to work twice as hard without magic. hehe.’ ace thought, shifting his attention to staring at you. though he was focused on you, his hands still mindlessly doodled across the page. completely unaware of what he was writing.
deuce glances over his shoulder, eyes widening at what he managed to read. “ace?! i.. i never would’ve thought this was your level of dedication..” deuce says to ace, confusing the boy. “eh? deuce what are you talking about—“
ace looks at the paper. his handwriting was messy since he wasn’t paying attention but it was certainly legible.
[MC] TRAPPOLA
he shuts the notebook hastily, emitting a loud thud noise to echo in the classroom. all eyes were on him. including yours. he whistles as if nothing happened, face flushed a light pink color. trein grunts, and continues on with the lesson.
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🦁┆LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
“how’d i get stuck here..”
leona mumbles, sitting at his desk in what felt like forever. his plans to skip were officially ruined as you dragged him to his classroom before he could make it to the botanical garden. usually he’d just brush off anybody getting in his way of a good nap, but you looked so persistent in getting him here.
so begrudgingly, he took his seat in class with a huff as the professor continued his lesson. does he regret it? sort of. you looked satisfied and proud when he listened to you, so he’ll oblige for now. he can just ask for a reward later as a thanks for his compliance. he’s mentally making a list of things you could do for him..
joining him for his afternoon nap, fetching him lunch, coming to a spelldrive club practice, the list goes on. his blissful thoughts were then interrupted as the professor placed a paper worksheet in front of him. a worksheet? those are barely ever given out to students..
“kingscholar, this is a sheet of things you must catch up on as a result of your frequent absences. surely you can finish this by the end of the week since you seem to have much free time.” the professor spoke, handing him a pencil and leaving him off to writing.
“haah.. I shouldn’t have listened to that damn herbivore.” he sighs, slouching in his seat and reviewing the sheet in front of him. ‘i already know all this..’ leona thinks, stretching his arms out getting ready to nap. the least he could do is write out his name and do the rest when he feels like it. instead of his name, it was something else entirely.
[MC] KINGSCHOLAR
his ears drop down, his eyes widened, and his cheeks got darker. he followed his first instinct and crumbled the worksheet, ensuring nobody could read what he had just written. the professor glares at him and makes his way over to his seat. “mr. kingscholar.. i hope you know that’d be a rather large part of your grade. we wouldn’t want you to be held back another, would we?”
“tch..” leona scoffs, trying to look away from any of the attention he was receiving. the class ends as soon as it has started, thankfully with no more incidents. leona was just glad nobody has seen what he has written and that he can escape this situation as quickly as possible.. or so he thought.
“roi du leon!” an all too familiar face calls out.
oh no.
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🐙┆AZUL ASHENGROTTO
azul sat in his office, filing through the contracts he had made in the past month. many let their minds wander when sitting at a desk for 2 hours or so, and azul is no exception.
eventually growing bored and tired of looking through the deals he made, he took out a notepad and simply wrote out his thoughts. at first he thought this was a dumb idea, but his mother insisted he try it and it has been working ever since.
his mind always felt at ease once the notebook was pulled out. but today felt a little different. he was happy, but today he felt more excited than anything.
he had a dumb lovestruck smile on his face, lightly giggling as he wrote. what on earth? his face was flushed and warm, but he didn’t mind it one bit.
[MC] ASHENGROTTO
he would’ve never thought something so simple would’ve gotten him so worked up. it was just your name and his surname. what was so special?
that’s what he would’ve thought in the past. now, he began to imagine a future of you and him in the coral sea.. a house together.. you meeting his mother.. his stepfather.. it made him feel all giddy. like a schoolgirl if you will.
his love fantasies were inevitably cut short as he heard a knock on the door. “ne, azul. shrimpy is here to see ya.”
panicked that you and floyd might see his notes, he hurriedly opened his drawer and slams it shut. the thud can be heard on the other side of the door, confusing you. “a-ahem.. come in!”
as he saw you, his fantasies began to boot back up. a wedding.. dates at mostro lounge.. it sounded like paradise. every fiber of his being was fighting the primal urge to make you a sign a contract. a contract in which you’d agree to be his life partner. forever, and ever.
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🦈┆FLOYD LEECH
not feeling like attending classes, floyd skipped out on the lesson. he knows he’d get scolded by azul later, but if he doesn’t feel like going he don’t wanna.
since you were in classes, the teachers had pushed him out before he even got to you. even despite his protests! floyd complains at the closed door, trying to open it back up.
“eh? why can’t i just take shrimpy and go? lessons are borin’ anyway.” he complains, causing you to hide your head from all the eyes staring at you. all this attention pointed more at you than at floyd..
“leech.. that’s quite enough. go back to your class and come back for this.. “shrimpy” later. interrupting a lesson is NOT what a mage of the future should be doing.” the teacher retorts, now ignoring floyd and his remarks.
“tch.” getting tired of trying to pull you out, floyd retreats to his room in octavinelle. he flopped onto his bed, a pen in hand and a notebook in front of him. jade said drawing is a good time killer or whatever, so he’ll do just that. in all honesty, it won’t take long for him to get bored of this activity and look for something else.
floyd being floyd, just wrote or drew whatever first came to mind. there were tiny drawings of shrimps all over the page. an occasional eel to be seen next to it. he laughed and smiled looking at the page before him. “ehe.. there are shrimpys all over this paper—!”
he writes out another thought that came to his mind. it wasn’t a shrimp drawing, neither was it an eel. the handwriting was slightly shaking being on an uneven and unstable surface, but you can tell what it says.
[MC] LEECH
[MC]? ohhh, that’s your name! leech? that’s his last name! he didn’t truly process what he had wrote, but he knew the implications of it. you being a leech.. to change your last name..
you typically marry a person of interest.. and that person of interest typically inherits the others last name..
hey! person of interest is you! you’re his person of interest! just wait shrimpy! you better save that ring finger just for him!
and 5 minutes later he gets bored, tosses the notebook to the side and goes back to terrorize your classroom again.
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🐍┆JAMIL VIPER
jamil sat in the scarabia lounge, finally finishing up dinner for the day. kalim was held up in club activities, and basketball practice has been cancelled due to the fact over half of the members were injured thanks to floyd and aces negligence.
this was a rare moment where he actually had time to himself. nobody to interrupt him in his peaceful state of mind. jamil walked over to his room, locking the door behind him and laying flat onto his bed.
he stares up at the ceiling, unsure what to do with this free time. homework? no he already did it all. check up on kalim? no, why would he ruin his moment of peace like that. check up on you? …
what a ridiculous idea. he doesn’t have time for that. well he does but.. ugh. having time to himself isn’t as relaxing as he made it out to be. especially considering he never had a moment to himself in forever.
jamil figured to keep himself occupied, he can make a bucket list. many people make bucket lists, surely this’ll help him plan his future, right? he grabs a pen and a sheet of paper and began to brainstorm.
obviously seeing the world is one of them. that’s something he wanted to do for as long as he could remember. his mind blanks. so far, his only desire was to travel. far far away from kalim. a thought occurred in his mind.
“..they have to be putting a spell on me or something.” jamil mutters, massaging his temple. he tried wiping the thought clean from his mind, but there was no luck. it annoyed him that such a simple thought was enough to leave him flustered.
[MC] VIPER
he wrote it onto a separate sheet of paper. examining it with a slight smirk. his cheeks were tinted a slightly darker shade, signs of him blushing. “their name doesn’t go well with my surname. what a shame.”
he’s lying. hearing your name with his last is like music to his ears, as much as he’d hate to admit it. surely enough he rips the paper into shreds and tosses it into a nearby trashbin, going out on a walk to clear his clouded mind.
you must’ve put a spell on him. he shouldn’t be having such fantasies of you and him traveling the world together.
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A/N: this kinda sucks but it’s better than nothing lmao
date published: 1/6/23
© temiizpalce — don’t steal or copy my work!
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frenxio · 11 months
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Ayato - Kiss The Bride
Word count: 1.2K
Genre: Angst
A/n: I am not bothered to change up the entire vibe of this one shot anymore :)
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The Kamisato Clan and the L/n Clan have long been enemies. It dates back to the beginning of the clans where they just, simply didn't like one another. Just one look in the street and a fight would break out in public with no shame and anyone who spoke of their incident would immediately get their tongue sliced off. Now, days have changed, but still the clans were still enemies. Generation after generation, a person would lead a Clan, which then leads to today.
You, who's Y/n L/n, leader of the L/n Clan, has fallen on her knees before the leader of the Kamisato Clan, Ayato.
He's such a busy man, as always. His eyes are always stuck to the paperwork, and his hands were never empty unless events were on play in Inazuma. It makes it difficult to make room to play with somebody. However, you made it possible by annoying him wherever he went. Despite families being enemies, you shamelessly present your love for him.
"I love him so much, I want to marry him!" With hands clasped together, dreaming about the future that he knew would never happen.
The two clans never worried about it because Ayato always ignores her admirable gifts and affection, since they knew he wouldn't take action.
He walks through the hallway with a pack of finished workplaces in hand to give to his father, while an annoying hamster follows him. "What are you up to now?" He said sarcastically.
You giggled, "just a secret!"
He rolled his eyes and continued walking forward in silence, gifting his father the pages before bowing and leaving with the hamster. The silence was louder than he expected. You would normally have presented a weird prank on him by now, but no, not yet.
"Ayato."
He continues walking without batting an eye.
"Ayato! Look at me!"
He turns around and looked down to watch your squirming figure. "What is it?"
"Um, I have a gift for you. I hope you like it!" You took the gift out from your back and gave it to him like a letter of confession. Boeing down, straight arms to hand the special gift. To his surprise, there was a love letter ontop of the neatly wrapped box. He didn't dare ask about it, because he knew what was up. After years of trying to get to him, you finally attempt to confess. "Thanks."
"Also I want to say something."
Here it comes.
He prepared for his lines ever since, so he knew what to say in response. The harshest one possible to keep her away from him.
"Go on."
With a little bit of confidence, she breathed and said it. "I, I'm actually in love with you. I have loved you ever since I met you and-!"
"Look, I'm not interested. You wasted four years of your life trying to get me to marry you, but it will all be for nothing. You're the Clan leader of L/n, right? Why do you try so hard when you know that our families are enemies?"
You flinched hard while still looking up at him with pitiful eyes. "Be, because love could never break no matter the obstacles."
He refused to say anything rude up to this point, yet he still did. "Who taught you that? Nobody in my Clan ever taught me, is that what your Clan thinks in their heads? Just delusional romance?"
No words came out of your mouth and it made Ayato satisfied with your response. Nothing. It felt like he shook your heart too much, and it would be enough for you to avoid him.
He scoffs and turns his back on you, "Now leave me be."
But, no. You didn't stop there. Even after getting rejected, you continue to nag him. You were your usual self. Always hugging his arm, telling him that you will always love him no matter what, even if the universe one day explodes, he would be forever in your heart. You were still the cheerful, most beautiful, most interesting person even after the heart clenching reply he made. Confused, he slightly got irritated.
In the middle of the night, you were reading a book beside him who was doing his paperwork as usual. He felt the depressing aura that came off of you, but didn't ask about it. He never felt concerned.
"Hey, Ayato."
"Hm?"
"Do you really... not love me at all?"
He glanced at you and stopped writing. "No, I really don't. It's up to the point that I don't even wish to marry you. I'd rather get wed to somebody else."
You flinched again and bit your lip. That, that line struck a chord in your heart, and he did it purposely knowing full well that it would hurt you. It shattered you completely. You knew he wasn't always so cold to you. There were times when he was nice, there were times where he would return your gifts with bouquets and kiss your forehead good night. You thought that he had the same feelings as you, but now something was telling you that it were all fake.
You gently closed the book and looked at him straight in the eye. You wanted to get a final answer. "Really? Nothing?"
"None. Nothing about you makes my heart beat, because you're a L/n."
Your eyebrows furrowed slightly, indicating that it was your last straw.
You slammed the table and got up quietly. Putting your slippers on and leaving without taking another look. Perhaps he shouldn't have gone too far. He didn't want you to leave but, due to family restrictions, he couldn't make you stay.
He grabbed his pen again and continued writing. This time, he wrote on the corner of a page the shape of a heart shattering into different pieces.
A week later, his surroundings becaome from quiet to whispers. A talk about the girl who used to love Ayato was now getting wed to another man named Hiro, the Sakura Clan's leader. From what he heard, anybody can join the wedding without needing invitations.
He rejected her and yet...
...Now he sees her with another man linking with her arm. Something broke inside of him. The way she acts in a stiff manner, the way her personality seemed fake, and how her eyes doesn't seem to twinkle when she looks at him. It was all fake. She doesn't love him.
Something just broke.
His eyes widened in shock, fist clenching and trembling in anger at how this man just stole the love of his life. If there were no rules to abide and he could love her freely, this wouldn't have happened. He could have changed the relationship the Clans have and this... personality that didn't even look like yours.
You noticed the tall figure hiding behind a pillar. You knew right away that it was Ayato. It simply hurt looking at him like that. Confused and mad, frustrated, even. No, no, you- he doesn't love you. You know that. Because you're a L/n, you can't love him.
You looked back at Hiro. "I do."
"You may now kiss the bride!"
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skzhua · 1 year
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listen carefully ('your eyes' series)
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♡ "Do you trust me?"
pairing: bang chan x reader.
genre: fluff, a glimpse of angst, idiots-to-lovers.
word count: 8,659
warnings: swearing, drinking, slight angst, chan and reader are so oblivious (mostly reader).
summary: your first mistake was to major in music in college. your second mistake was to change classes and end up in bang chan's. your third was to accept his help to pass the class. your last mistake was to push him away.
a/n: not gonna lie, this one took me forever and i don't like it much, though i think it's still very cute. 2 scenarios done out of 8!
SERIES MASTERLIST
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You looked back and forth from your schedule to the classroom in front of you. When you applied for a music major, you did not expect that this would involve sound testing classes. You wanted to sing and write lyrics, not do any of this producing shit. Plus, the course was scheduled from 8am to 10:30am. There was no way you would be doing whatever this is every single Monday morning for an entire semester.
With an elongated groan, you walked in the classroom and found a place in the back. You weren't even going to listen, so you plugged your earphones in and put down your head on your desk. You slept throughout the whole 30 minutes of course introduction and woke up when another student poked your sides. You immediately walked up to the teacher and asked if there was a possibility for you to switch classes. To your luck, one spot was still available in her afternoon course and you just so happened to have the rest of the day off.
In the meantime, you took it upon yourself to explore the area alone. You stumbled across a small coffee shop, so you decided you deserved to be caffeinated for your first day. After ordering a chai latte, you went on with your self tour of the campus. Taking a turn in a hallway, you collided against another student, falling on the ground in the process.
"Shit, I'm so sorry." you heard as you rubbed your sides.
Looking up, a hand was already extended to you to help you up. "Yeah, sorry too." you grunted, still in pain.
The man helped you gather your things on the ground and gasped at the sight of your lyrics book, that had opened during the fall. "Are those poems?"
"Sort of." you answered shyly.
“Can I take a look?”
You acquiesced, a bit reluctant. He scanned through the pages and nodded as he read. Pausing for some parts, he was very expressive from what you had written. You nervously waited for him to finish.
“It’s pretty good! It could be made into a song, you know?”
“That’s the goal.” you laughed out.
“Are you in music, too?” he gasped, excited.
“Yes, I just transferred here.”
He smiled widely. “Welcome, then.” Smiling back at him, you felt intimidated by the interaction. An attractive man speaking to you on your first day? What could be any better? “I have to go to class. I’ll see you around then.”
He left with a wink and you were a blushing mess by then. Your gaze lingered on his back as he walked further from you.
"Y/N?" Looking for the source of the voice, you spotted your dorm mate, Dahye with a girl walking next to her. "May I present you Byeol." she smiled as she introduced her friend. The latter looked unbothered as she waved briefly before going back on her phone. "So? How's the first day?"
You shrugged since you really didn't have much to say. "Fine, I suppose."
"I see you met Chan." Dahye wiggled her eyebrows. "The brightest music senior student."
"So that's his name, uh." you muttered to yourself. "I bumped into him, that's all."
"Oh, well. I'll see you tonight! We are running late."
And so were you. Checking the time, you had a brief three minutes remaining before the class started. You didn't even know where the course was given. As you rushed through the hallways, you finally found an auditorium where the same woman from the morning class was standing. Bashfully, you walked in the room and sat at the first spot you saw, excusing yourself for bothering.
This went on essentially exactly like the morning class. The teacher introduced the course plan and answered some of the questions. The topics were interesting. However, you had no clue on how you would be using the material in your future career. Throughout your life, you had always worked alongside your father for the music you made. He was a music producer himself, meaning you did not need to worry of this part of the song making process.
After the professor dismissed the students, you were slowly putting back your books in your bag when you saw a shadow stop at your desk. Smiling as his dimples showed, Chan and another man were standing right in front of you.
"It makes sense you're a music major." he chuckled. "This is my friend, Jisung."
You bowed slightly to the man who copied your move before stepping away a bit. What was it with people and introductions today?
"I'm surprised to see you here, I thought you were in your last year of college." you said, getting up from your seat.
"Ah." he laughed shyly. "It's a complementary class, I've actually done it already, but the teacher asked me to help out her other students, like this guy over here." he nodded towards Jisung. "I won't be here every class, though. I'm part of the music club so I have to deal with that as well. And I work part-time at the library."
The man was truly an exemplary student, being so dedicated to school. It both impressed and scared you. He kept on explaining what he does for the campus and mentioned a few people. He was very social and comfortable to converse with, it made you feel at ease. He also suggested to give you a tour of the place himself. You felt uneasy from being shown such kindness, but you gladly accepted his offer. Anyway, you'd had to make some friends at some point and befriending this social guy might be of a good help. Eventually, Jisung left the two of you to go home. Chan stayed with you as you tried to find your way back to your dorm.
"Do you need help with that too?" he joked, but you were sincerely lost.
"Please?" you pouted, making him chuckle.
"Alright, what's your dorm address?"
As you searched for it on your phone, a girl came up to Chan from behind. She back hugged him as she started to talk with him in a very casual manner. Chan ruffled her hair as he hugged her back, asking her about her day. Having found your dorm number, you stood still to wait until he was done with his small talk. He soon realized you were still there, so he introduced you to the girl.
"Sora, this is Y/N. She's in my sound art practices class. Y/N, this is my best friend, Sora."
"Hi! Happy to meet you!" she smiled at you warmly. She was the first person aside from Dahye and Chan to be more civil with introductions.
"Likewise." you smiled back before turning your attention back on Chan. "I can go find my dorm alone if you two want to hang out."
"No, no. I'll show you, don't worry." he said and gave a sad look to Sora. "Do you mind going without me for today? I'll join you later."
"Yeah, sure." she answered, but hesitation could still be heard in her tone. "Do you want Minho and I to order for you?"
"It's fine, thanks. Later?" he said, kissing the top of her head and she nodded before leaving.
"Maybe you should go? She looks disappointed." you pointed out while starting to head towards your dorm.
"She's fine. Her and Minho can be awkward when left alone together, that's all." he shrugged.
You didn't insist any more and walked next to him and he asked you a few questions about yourself. His presence was warm and you were almost disappointed when you had finally reached your dorm.
"Thank you for walking me home."
"No worries." Chan chuckled. "Again, welcome to the school. I'll see you next week, then?"
"Yeah, next week."
He watched you go inside before leaving. It was no surprise that you were alone since Dahye would always come late. For the time being, you pulled out your books and planned out your schedule. You added your new workplace you'd be starting to work at to your weekends. The small convenience store on the other side of the street was a perfect job while still being in your studies. It paid surprisingly good and the shifts were very flexible.
Dahye almost broke the door when she came inside, her heavy school bag dragged behind her. It was close to 10pm and you wondered what she was doing out so late.
"If Byeol makes me watch the three To All The Boys I've Loved Before again, I'm killing myself." she grunted before sitting on her bed.
"She doesn't seem like the kind to be into romcoms."
She gave you a look as she huffed. "It's her entire life, I swear. Like, I get the hype, but to this extent? No thanks."
You shrugged your shoulders as you went back to your agenda. In all honesty, you were the romantic kind as well. The only difference was that you had very high standards in relationships, resulting to you still being single. You had never dated someone in long term because you would sense it if the connection was off.
"I got some ramens at the store on my way here. Want to share?" Dahye prompted, holding two bowls of instant noodles.
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So far, you had two friends in your list: Dahye and Jeongin. The boy worked at the convenience store with you and was still in his first year, but it was his second term. The thing you absolutely adored about Jeongin was how aware he was of all the drama happening. And by everything, I mean everything.
"That girl went out with Minho." he pointed to the girl Dahye introduced you as Byeol who was behind you in the cafeteria. "It's so weird seeing them eat together."
"Maybe they fixed things between them." you shrugged your shoulders.
"I doubt it. Look at how Minho looks at her."
You glanced briefly at the group and saw that, indeed, Minho had daggers in his eyes. "You're very invested in this." you laughed.
"Oh shit." Jeongin muttered, suddenly trying to hide behind you.
"What is it?"
He pointed somewhere and you met eyes with a girl walking alongside Chan and Sora. She was visibly uncomfortable and sticking closely to Sora. The latter was as clingy to Chan.
"Who's this?" you asked.
"Youngmi. She lives in the same building as me and she is the embodiment of ethereal, if you want my opinion."
You exploded in laughter as you started to tease the young man who couldn't help but pout as his face turned red. "Looks like Innie has a little crush."
"Say it any louder please." he joked. "I don't know, I saw her a few times and she gets all flustered when she sees someone she doesn't know. It's cute."
Eyes still on the trio, Chan caught you staring and sent you a wave as he smiled. He tugged Sora's side, arguing for a bit, before he dragged the two girls with him. Soon enough, they were standing in front of you and Jeongin. By then, Jeongin had frozen completely as Youngmi said a small "hey" to him. Freshmen love...
"Do you mind if we join?" Chan said, already in the motion of sitting down.
"Go ahead." you gestured the seats.
While he positioned himself on the chair happily, Sora seemed unsure in following her friend's actions. Nonetheless, she sat down and started to eat in silence as Jeongin and Chan exchanged in a calm conversation. You noticed she glanced at you a couple of times, but you ignored her. She also seemed to drift her eyes towards Minho's table, almost as if she was looking for help. The girl had always been nice to you. Although you wouldn't consider her as a friend, she had grown distant to you for the past weeks and you had a good idea as to why. You weren't blind, you saw how infatuated she was with Chan and you were not planning on ruining what was going on between them. However, consciously or not, she was visibly starting to see you as a threat.
"I talked with Mrs. Ko." Chan suddenly addressed to you.
"About?" you said while taking a spoonful of your soup.
"About you."
You choked on your food, coughing loudly in the process as your throat started to burn. Jeongin patted your back in a soothing way as an attempt to relieve your pain. Sora, on the other hand, was quick to pull out a napkin to clean the small mess you had made.
"What do you mean, me? What did I do?" you asked once you had recovered from choking.
Chan laughed nervously. "She asked me if I'd be interested in tutoring you."
At this, you exploded in laughter, Sora too. You weren't sure on why she was doing so, but you were laughing because you didn't think a tutor was necessary, even less it being Chan.
"What's funny?" he turned to the youngest pair at the table.
Jeongin shrugged. "I mean, do you even have time to tutor? You barely have any time for the guys and I."
"It would be during the class period." You groaned at his words, throwing your head back in frustration. "She said you're going to fail if you keep going like this."
"Come on, Chan. We're barely halfway through the term. I can manage myself."
"Not sure about that. You have halfway left that you can use to actually get better instead of barely passing."
You looked at Sora in search of any help, but she shrugged her shoulders and went back to her conversation with Youngmi.
"I'll think about it..."
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"Think about it?" Dahye yelled out making you block your ears for how loud she was being. "Why would you think about it? You've got the hot senior offering personal tutoring sessions and you say no? Are you dumb or are you dumb?"
You sighed loudly and let yourself fall on your bed. "I don't need tutoring, alright?"
"Sure, you don't." she rolled her eyes and went to grab her bag.
"You're going somewhere?" you lifted your head up.
"Yeah, to the coffee shop. Do you want to tag along?"
"I would but I have a shift starting soon."
She waved you goodbye and you were left alone in the room. Taking this as a good time to revise your notes for your upcoming exam while waiting for your shift to start, you pulled out your lecture book and flipped through the pages. Your eyes were reading, but your brain couldn't seem to actually understand what was written. You tried with the next chapter, but the results were the same. Time was passing quickly so you brought the book with you to the convenience store.
When you walked in, Jeongin was already there on his phone, yawning out of boredom. The store was empty so you assumed it was a slow evening. You punched in and joined the boy at the counter. You dropped the manuel in front of you and Jeongin's expression went surprised as he saw the thickness of your book.
"What the hell do you study in this?"
"Sound stuff." you breathed out as you opened it, going back to the chapter you were previously analyzing.
"Isn't it the class that Chan said he could help you with?"
"Precisely." you hummed, not taking your eyes off the page.
He stopped questioning and went back to his game. The shift continued like this, in silence, with a couple of customers coming in once in a while. Still, there was barely anyone so the both of you eventually grew bored of studying and playing. Jeongin brought two stools from the back of the store so you could sit instead of standing up for the remaining two hours you had left.
"Do you have an exam soon?" he asked.
"Just a small quiz that is not worth much. I'd say I'm more worried about the final exam. I don't mind not getting A marks, but from what I read, I don't understand shit. Maybe Chan was right after all..." you admitted shamelessly.
He laughed at your words. "I knew you would say that sooner or later." You gave him a look, which only made him laugh more. "It's okay asking for help. And I swear Chan is a good teacher, he helped me with statistics once."
"I'll see. I might not ask him, though, Have you seen Sora the other day? I could swear she wanted to decapitate me just because Chan said one word to me."
"That's Sora for you. She's just protective of him. I don't talk to her much other than about Youngmi so I can't say how she is really." he shrugged and went to the slushie machine to make himself one.
"Ah, right. Your little crush on Youngmi." you chuckled. "How is that going for you?"
"You'd be surprised. I actually talked with her. She was having a hard time so I comforted her." he said proudly before slurping on his drink.
"I am impressed." you clapped your hands silently. "I bet she needs someone like you around."
The conversation was interrupted when Chan walked in the store, accompanied by Minho. They were seemingly disagreeing on something as Minho was rambling on with incoherent words. He stopped when he noticed that Chan was no longer listening, but was staring right at you instead.
"Hey." he coughed, once he realized he had been looking for a little too long. "I didn't know you work here."
"Yeah, been here since the beginning of school pretty much."
He made an 'o' shape with his mouth as he nodded before walking through the aisles. Minho walked behind him and started his rant again.
"This is a good time to ask him about the tutoring." Jeongin shot at you.
Your eyes widened to him. "Are you crazy? I said I'm not asking him."
"Why? Because you're scared of Sora?" he joked, but your face remained serious. "Oh shit, you are."
"I don't want her to think I'm stealing her man, that's all."
"So you're stealing Chan?"
You huffed. "No, of course not."
"He's not her man, anyway. Plus, he's the one who offered. Just tell him."
"No."
"Yes."
"Jeongin..."
"Tell him."
"Tell who what?"
You jumped at the sudden voice, almost letting out a yell until you noticed the two older men putting their purchases on the counter. Chan's look switched between Jeongin and you, waiting for you to answer.
"Yeah, Y/N. Tell who what?" Jeongin snickered as he leaned back, arms crossed and a proud look on his face.
You sent him a glare, but answered nonetheless. "Ask you about this tutoring thing..." you mumbled barely loud enough to be heard.
From Chan's grin, though, he had clearly heard you perfectly. "So you made up your mind?"
"It's not like I have a choice, really. I've been over the same five pages for hours and still don't understand shit."
While you continued your chat with him, Jeongin scanned their articles and made Minho pay as they were in a discussion of their own. Chan talked about how the tutoring would work, how you didn't have to pay for anything since the teacher was already doing so, how he wasn't going to give you homework other than some tests here and there to make sure you were following along.
"I won't remember all of this tomorrow." you laughed.
Chan immediately reached for his phone and put it in front if you. "Give me your number."
You raised an eyebrow, suspicious. "You're very straightforward."
"No, dummy." he chuckled. "So I can send you the information and plan out a lesson."
"Ah." you cough embarrassingly. "Right."
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They left the store after you typed in your phone number in his phone. Unconsciously, Chan was still staring at your contact information, a silly smile that reached his ears on his face.
"Dude." Minho nudged his arm. "It won't disappear on its own." he mocked his friend.
Chan grumbled some curses to him and put back his phone in his pocket. They went back to his place for their usual hangout of the week and Changbin, his roommate, had already prepared a game while waiting for them to come back. At the coffee table, Minho sat next to Sora and Chan went to the dining room to pull out their groceries. Changbin's friend, Chunhwa, had been invited and helped the man to bring the food to everyone.
"Where is Jisung?" Minho asked, taking a sip of the soup Chunhwa had placed in front of him.
"He's probably comforting Hwayoung again." Changbin shrugged as he took the spot next to Chunhwa.
"If he keeps doing this, he'll end up in a deep depression." Sora commented and everyone around agreed.
"You're one to say that." Minho joked as the girl hit him, but Chan didn't get it.
Was she helping out her crush to get over someone too? If so, why didn't she tell him about it? Yes, Chan was that oblivious. Being too busy mothering his younger friends and with school, the least of his worries was romance. He did think of it from time to time, but he's always seen it as something for later.
"Alright, I'm blue this time!" Changbin announced as he picked up a pawn in the said-colour.
"I wanted blue." Chunhwa pouted and the man was quick to give it up for her.
"I'll be green, then." he sighed.
Sora and Chan exchanged knowing looks as the girl picked their usual colours, red and white. They started their game while eating and sharing laughs. Unlike others, the group preferred spending quality time instead of drinking until they blacked out. They would party, of course, but not as often as other college students. As the board game went on, Chan clapped his hands together and turned to talk with Sora.
"I talked with Y/N."
"And?" she said with a frown, moving her pawn on the board.
"She accepted my offer. I told you she would." he grinned.
Her reaction wasn't much what he had expected from his friend. Instead of joy, she looked sad, hurt almost.
"That's great." she forced a smile.
"Yeah, I'll text her the details later. It'll probably be once or twice a week. Depends on her level, honestly."
"Right." she nodded slowly her head. "Sorry, I have a headache. Minho, do you mind helping me get some medecine?"
Minho stood up immediately, reaching a hand to help her get up. "No, of course."
Chan frowned. "Are you alright? I can help if you want and-"
"No." she interrupted. "I'm okay, really. Thanks." she gave him that same sad smile before Minho led her out of the room.
Silence remained while it was Chunhwa's turn to play. She and Changbin were giving each other looks, something Chan couldn't exactly make out. Seeing that they were in their own world and that they had to wait for Sora to be back to continue on with their game, Chan took his phone out as he grew bored. The moment he opened it, your contact information was displayed on his screen, once again. For some reason, he instinctively clicked to open the message app.
Chan: Hey, it's Chan! I hope you gave me the right number, haha.
Y/N: Hey! Yeah it's me, haha. I didn't expect you to reach out so soon.
Chan: Me neither, to be honest. I thought about our arrangement and it can be twice a week if you'd like that instead of just during class period.
Y/N: Hmm, I'll have to check my schedule but yeah, it should be fine.
Chan: Great! I won't bother you for much longer now.
Y/N: You're not bothering, I swear. :)
Chan: Good. :) I'll let you know when we can start.
Y/N: All good. Good night!
Chan: Night. :)
"I'll go home, if you don't mind." Sora announced as she entered the room, Minho following behind.
"This early?" Chan said, putting his phone away.
"Sorry, I don't feel so well." she smiled, guilt seen on her face.
Chan stood up and joined her at the front door. "Let me walk you to your dorm, at least."
She shook her head. "Minho's coming with me already. Thank you."
"Alright." he said unsurely, hugging her tight. "Let me know if you need anything."
"Always. Good night Chan. Bye, guys!" she waved at the remaining pair before her and Minho took off.
Chan was still frowning at her weird behaviour, but he shrugged it off. Maybe she had a bad day. The weirdest part was how she stuck to Minho since they never were this close with each other. It might have changed without his knowledge. He went to help Changbin out with cleaning up and wash the dishes, Chunhwa tagging along.
"Do you mind if she stays the night?" Changbin asked.
"No, it's alright." Chan replied as he gathered his things to head to bed.
Locking himself in his room, he let out a long sigh before snuggling himself under his covers. Opening his phone, he saw your name lit up. He smiled immediately.
Y/N: Can't sleep. I thought this meme would make you smile when you wake up.
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As the lessons kept going, you grew fond of Chan. He was nothing but respectful to you and was treating you like a princess, almost. He would always bring snacks, take breaks after some time to make sure you are not too tired, and he was insanely funny. He had started to be more attentive to your needs recently, and you could not help but hope he might like you as much as you liked him. But this was not possible, right?
You scrunched your nose as you listened to Chan explaining the material for a third time. You were amazed at how patient he had been with you. Your eighth lesson together and, yet, you still had no clue about anything in this course. Frankly speaking, you wanted to drop out, but Chan had insisted you continue with some speech about determination and shit. The coffee shop his friend, Seungmin, worked at was a cozy spot for your sessions. However, you had learnt Dahye's crush was the barista and she would almost always be there, trying to get his attention. It was close to sad to watch.
"I'm sorry, I really don't get it." you grunted, rubbing your face with your hands.
"Hey, it's fine. I know it can be hard to comprehend properly." he tried to reassure you while patting your back.
"You don't get it. If I want to make my own music, I should be able to understand, right? I suck." you grunted dramatically.
"Woah, there. How about I show you some concrete examples instead? I think it'd be easier for you." he suggested but you were still confused.
"Examples? We have the teacher's already."
"Yeah, uh, I could make you listen some of my tracks." he laughed out shyly.
"Your own tracks?" you exclaimed in surprised, eyes wide open. "Well, thinking about it, it makes sense you make your own music. Still, I didn't know."
"Yeah, I don't go around telling people." he added, blushing again. "I could show you right now, actually. Do you have something planned after this?"
You opened your agenda and scanned through your schedule. Your empty schedule. "No, the rest of my day is clear."
"Can I invite you over? My music stuff is in my room."
While the idea seemed appealing, you weren't convinced it was safe. Chan was a handsome man, and although you had grown closer with him, he could still be a fuckboy for all you know. The main reason, though, was that Sora would probably hear about it and you didn't want to hurt the girl by going over to her friend's apartment. Still, it was in the context of a class you were very much failing. At this point, you would take anything if it meant it would make you pass.
"Okay."
His own dorm wasn't far from yours. The walk to there was quick and you were standing in his kitchen before you knew it. It was neat for a boys apartment. Some exercise machines were installed, unsurprisingly since him and Changbin were visibly working out. There were a few takeout bags on the table as they would rarely cook themselves, but otherwise, it was one of the cleanest places you had seen.
"Do you want something to drink?" he asked, opening his refrigerator to serve himself a glass of water.
"Not for now, thanks." you smiled.
Chan led you to his room that was as clean as the rest of the dorm. He had made himself a work space for his music. On his desk, there were two monitors standing with a mixing console. He had placed a piano keyboard in the corner and a few different headphones were laying around the table. Right next to the desk was a microphone along with its isolation shield. He had a very good setup, you were almost jealous of it.
"This is amazing." you breathed out. "This stuff is brand new!"
"I saved a lot for it." he said, sitting down on his chair. He pulled his other one towards you. "Sit down, I wanna show you something."
You did as told and he started to look into his files, scrolling through them attentively. He spotted one and clicked on it. He waited a moment before playing it to give you time to put his headphones on. Once he started it, the track's intro started out beautifully. It had a soft melody, but it slowly turned into a more upbeat sound. The beat build up, until it dropped and you would lie if you said you didn't feel goosebumps at that moment. When it ended, you took the headphones off and stared at him in shock.
"You've got some freaking talent. I'm speechless, really."
"Thank you." he mumbled and blushed. "I'll play it again and I want you to pay attention to the different notes and sounds. Cover one ear only, I'll explain as it plays. Listen carefully."
Replaying it, he pointed out sounds and paused to explain. He did this for the next 40 minutes or so and, surprisingly enough, you had finally understood the material. It shocked you how easily you got it only from a few tracks made by Chan himself. His talent was undeniable and, if anything, it only made him more attractive to you.
"What is this one?" you said as you moved the cursor to a specific file.
"No not this-" Too late, you had already started to play it on his speakers. "... one." he finished his sentence in a whisper.
The ballad was powerful, and his lyrics were more relatable than you'd like them to be. So far, he had put only instrumental tracks. Needless to say you were dumbfounded by his voice. You were deep into the song, until Chan took the mouse from you and paused it.
"Hey!" you pouted.
"It's a pretty personal one." he justified, avoiding your eyes.
"Yeah, the lyrics are rough. I think it's beautiful. Sorry that I listened to it when you didn't want me to." you apologized sincerely.
"You think it's beautiful? I think it's a bit much."
"Not at all!" you argued. "I love it, really."
"Thank you."
An awkward silence filled the room, small tension building up. To wash it away, Chan clicked on a new file. It was a ballad, but it was much softer this time. He stood up from his chair and extended a hand to you. You looked at it suspisciously.
"What?"
"May I have this dance?" he said in a funny tone.
"Cringe." you huffed.
"Come on, you deserve a little break."
"And I dance like shit." you deadpanned at him.
"Do you trust me?"
You found it ridiculous, and cheesy. Without protesting, you still took his hand and he held you by the waist, swaying from side to side. You were uneasy at first, but grew more comfortable as he continued to guide your moves along the music. At some point, you hadn't realized how close your bodies were getting until you could feel his fast heartbeat with your head against his chest. You looked up at him and he already had his eyes on you. While this felt wrong, it was a feeling of safety. Before you could speak, the music changed to another one of his tracks, a more funny beat this time. You detached yourself from him and tried to find something to say quickly to ignore the moment you just shared.
"You make a lot of different genres." was all you could find to say.
It seemed to work as Chan started to tell you about his experimenting to find what style he liked better and which one fitted him the best. Eventually, the conversation drifted to a casual talk, learning more about each other. After listening to more of his songs, he had offered you to stay for dinner, but you refused. He had already made you go through a rollercoaster of emotions, you didn't know what was going to happen if you stayed any longer.
"You have everything?" he asked as he led you to his front door.
"Yeah, I think so. Thank you for today, it feels great to finally understand this stupid class."
He laughed before bring you into a hug. "Good. Tell me how the exam goes?"
"Of course."
When you were about to turn the doorknob, the door opened on its own. There she was, Sora, standing in the entrance with her eyes locked on you. You immediately felt like you got caught in the middle of a crime, although you had done nothing.
"Y/N." she said in a warm tone, making you feel bad how sweet she was still to you even though you knew how it must hurt her to see you with Chan.
"Hi, Sora. I was just leaving." You turned to Chan to give him one last smile. "See you, Chan!"
You didn't let him answer and left the place immediately. You were grateful for his help with the class. But now, you were stuck with guilt, longing, and a crush on a man who was already taken by a wonderful girl. You were fucked.
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Ding.
"Anyway, so I came home and-"
Ding.
"For fuck's sake, Y/N. Just answer him." Jeongin whined.
"No." you said firmly. "So, as I was saying, I had just gotten home and-"
Ding.
You shut your eyes at the annoying notification sound. You had stopped your lessons with him unexpectedly when you realized you could be ruining a lifelong friendship. Plus, it would surprise you if he reciprocated even a tiny bit of your feelings. You told him you didn't need his help anymore and that you would rather focus on your other classes for now. He was understanding, of course, but you had stopped replying to his daily memes. He asked you if something was wrong, but you didn't answer. You had skipped the next sound art class to avoid him and had not left your room much since.
"Answer him." Jeongin whined again, louder this time.
"No!"
"He's my friend too, you know? I can just tell him how you're scared of your feelings." he threatened.
"You wouldn't."
"Watch me." he challenged you.
Ding.
You groaned and checked your phone and saw that, this time, it was a reminder that your shift was ending earlier for you to go do your exam. "I need to go. Cover for me?"
"Yeah, yeah." Jeongin rolled his eyes.
"And you better not talk to Chan."
"No promise." he grinned and you sent him a glare before taking off to head to class.
You bumped into a depressed looking Jisung when you walked in. He greeted you poorly, eyebags under his eyes and lazy movement. You would have asked if he was okay if it wasn't your final exam. Having studied like never before (and thanks to Chan's help, but we do not mention him at the moment), you felt quite ready, though your stress level was at its peak.
The questionnaire was filled with practice exercices and multiple choices. The teacher played sounds through the speakers for you to identify and describe them. You were baffled at how good you were doing, so good that you were among the first people to finish. Jisung was done not so long after you, so you walked out together, telling each other how you did on the exam.
"By the way, I wanted to make sure you are doing okay. You don't look so good to me, no offense."
He looked at his feet. "Yeah, I'm alright. Just..." He hesitated a little since you weren't close to him much, but at this point he didn't care. "Hwayoung and I fought and there is Chan's party tonight. I know she's going but I'm not sure if I want to face her yet."
"You should go."
His face lit up at your words. "You think so?"
"Yeah, I do. You two are practically inseparable from what I see. I think it'll be a shame to not try to fix things up."
"You have a point..." he said and thought for a second. "Alright, I'll go. Are you coming, too?"
While his situation was very different from yours, it did have some similarities. You had briefly seen a message from Chan, inviting you to his party, but you didn't want to face him. Dahye had begged you to come, saying she would want at least a friend around since Byeol would most likely not be going. So when you thought about it for a moment, it might be a good moment for you to talk things out with Chan.
"I guess I can stop by."
When you arrived home, Dahye was nowhere to be seen. You noticed a note on your desk and she wrote that she went to Seungmin's to get prepared. Looks like you were going to get ready alone. Rummaging through your clothes, you picked out a nice short-sleeved shirt with a skirt to match with it. You didn't put on much makeup, nor did you do anything extravagant with your hair.
Jeongin: Dude, Jisung told me you are coming tonight?
Y/N: Yes, sir.
Jeongin: Youngmi is going and I was planning to confess. I need your emotional support.
Y/N: If you'll be my emotional support to talk with Chan, then yes I'll help you.
Jeongin: Deal! But for real, Jisung convinces you to come in two seconds and not me? Offended...
You could only laugh at the texts. You grabbed your belongings and walked out of your dorm, heading to Chan's. After a small ten-minute walk, you were standing in front of his door, nervous. You had not even thought of letting him know you were coming, you just showed up. Anyhow, you knocked on the door and waited for someone to let you in. Some time after, Changbin happily welcomed you in, showing you where the snacks, the drinks and the bathroom were. After thanking him for his kindness, you parted ways with him to join Jeongin. To your surprise, he was already talking with Youngmi and they seemed to be doing just fine. Jisung was there too, but he kept looking at his phone every once in a while, seemingly waiting for a text.
"Am I late?" you asked and Jisung shook his head.
"We pretty much all came in advance. Minho, Hyunjin, Byeol, Hyunjoo and Felix are missing." he shrugged and took a sip of his drink.
The room was already filled with some people from your classes, and others you had never seen before. You scanned the room as you tried to spot Chan, but your eyes stopped on Sora instead. She was setting the food on the table alone, so you decided to go see her, trying to make your way through the crowd. Once you reached her, you realized she wasn't alone. Chan was giggling with her about something as he was setting bowls of chips on the table. It took them a few seconds to notice you and greet you sweetly.
"HI! Y/N, um, wow. You made it! I mean, I didn't expect you to be here. I should, uh-" Chan rambled on cutely.
He was interrupted when Sora kicked his rib with her elbow before smiling at you. "Good to see you."
"You too. I hope I'm not interrupting."
"Of course not!" they both hurried to deny.
"I should go greet the others. Talk to you later?" Chan set his eyes on you, and left.
You were now alone with Sora as she went on with preparing the snacks. You offered to help, but she didn't let you. You weren't sure what to say exactly which caused a small silence to grow. Luckily, she was more talkative than you were.
"I really didn't expect you here. Chan had kind of given up after you ignored him."
Her words hurt you more than you'd ever admit, but she was right. "It wasn't intentional. I mean, I did purposely ignore him but I had reasons."
She shook her head to shush you. "I'm not asking you to tell me why, you must have had good reasons. I just..." she trailed off before taking a deep breath. "He told me about how you almost kissed and I'm just letting you know that Chan is not someone to play around with. I don't know why he likes you so much while barely noticing me, but I'm warning you. You don't know him like I do and I know Chan is going to prioritize who he loves first. I don't want this thing going on with you two to be hurting anyone."
Frankly, you did not know how to answer. You were lost on why she was telling you all of this. You only registered the parts where she said he liked you, that she liked him, and that she didn't want things to be hurting anyone.
"I came here to fix things with him." you said after thinking of your words. "I don't know the history between you two, and visibly you are closer than anyone here. If I hurt you in any way, I'm so sorry. I just wanted to pass my class, that's it."
"No, I-"
"It's okay, Sora. You two clearly have something going on. I know for a fact Chan doesn't like me like that and he's way better off with you."
You didn't even let her speak again, and left the party immediately. You felt your mind getting fuzzier and you couldn't think straight about this whole situation, you just wanted out. Among the pack of people, you kept on bumping into one person to another, apologizing constantly. You ended up bumping into Chan, to your luck. You didn't want to talk with him anymore, so you hurried to walk out, but he was quick to recognize you and stop you by grabbing you by the arm.
"You're leaving already?" he asked worriedly.
"I'm not in the mood for a party that much." you made an excuse up on the spot.
"Do you want me to walk you home?"
"Gosh, Chan. Stop acting like you care so much." you snapped at him, which made him let go of your arm. "Sora's waiting for you in the kitchen if you are wondering."
On that note, you left him standing alone, baffled and confused, and you head back home as tears built up in your eyes.
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Dahye had invited you and Byeol for a little trip to the beach not even two days after the end of the semester. Before going back home for the summer and to avoid any possible interaction with Chan, you had gladly accepted. You were going to stay there for a couple of days only, but long enough to be enjoying the nice weather and the water.
While you were laying on the sand to enjoy the natural light, Byeol pulled out her phone to show you her messages with her boyfriend, Hyunjin. He was being a dramatic lover, telling her to not stay out in the sun for too long, to eat properly and to send him lots of pictures because he missed her. You were more than happy for her, but your heart stung. Chan had tried to reach out, obviously. This time, you had the courage to mute his contact and completely ignore him. You didn't have the strength to block him just yet. Maybe you were still hoping for something to happen with him.
"He said he'll paint the pictures of the sea that I sent him." Byeol commented, all smiley, as she put her phone away.
"That's adorable." Dahye said in a dreamy tone. "Although I would probably cringe if Seungmin pulled one like this on me."
The girls exchanged laughs and continued to chitchat about their romantic moments. Your mind wasn't fully there and you had issues concentrating properly. Eventually, the girls noticed and called your name to snap you out of your thoughts.
"Is it about Chan?" Dahye dared to ask, and Byeol gave her a look.
"Kind of? I should stop thinking about it. He's got Sora so everything is fine." you forced a smiled, but it didn't convince your friends.
"You should have talked to him. He fought with her that night." Dahye said, putting her hand on your shoulder. "And he thought of knocking at our dorm, but he chickened out."
You looked at her blankly and blinked slowly. "You didn't tell me this."
"It's not my place to do so. I'm sure he tried to tell you, but you've been quite ignorant towards him." she shrugged and from seeing your reaction, she knew she had to do something about it. "Look, just enjoy our time here for now and worry about this later, okay? Chan can wait a couple of days."
You nodded, agreeing that you were here to relax and enjoy, and not to fall into self-pity for the rest of your summer. Decisively, you repositioned yourself comfortably on your towel and did nothing but let yourself go with the sea breeze.
That night, Byeol and Dahye went to some fancy restaurant together close to the hotel you were staying at. You would have come too, but you wanted to go explore the neighbourhood instead. So after they left, you brought your camera with you to take some pictures around. It came to your mind that you could develop them and make a nice framed collage to hang in your room as a memory. With everything in your bag, you left the hotel and started your evening with walking in a park nearby. The trees were decorated with lights as well as the path. You snapped some photos, but upon seeing so many couples, you decided to change scenery.
A couple of streets away was an old-fashioned part of the town. There were many local shops opened and you took the time to stop at some of them, notably a small bakery. The woman was so sweet that she gifted you some cupcakes, not forgetting to compliment you on how beautiful she thought you were. Thanking her, you took the cupcakes from her and walked out of the store.
"She's not wrong, you know?"
You froze at the voice, sounding too much like a man you had grown to love over the past months. Uncertain if it was your mind tricking you, you turned around to come face to face with the one and only Chan. There he was in one of his many black attires and he had seemingly just stepped out of the bakery as well.
"If I didn't know you, I'd say you're stalking me." you joked once you had collected yourself.
"I would never." he huffed. "But I did ask some help from Dahye to have some time with you."
It was your turn to scoff. "You're unbelievable."
"I know, babygirl." he smirked and you would have punched in the air right then from how the butterflies he sent you made you internally squeal. "Mind if I take this stroll with you?"
"I do mind." you refused while you were actually dying to go on a romantic walk with him.
"I thought you trusted me enough." he acted offended and you let out a laugh, still not believing he was right in front of you. "Do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Trust me?"
Lacking a response, you stuttered out incoherent words. Wanting to hide from embarrassment, you shut your eyes and turned on your wheels to go on with your walk. Chan was, however, determined to not let you get away again, so he ran to catch up on you.
"So..." he started, but you were still refusing to glance at him. "I think we should talk."
"How's Sora?" you asked nonchalantly.
"Y/N, can you not bring her up for once? She told me what you two talked about at the party. Wasn't she clear enough when she said I like you?"
Stopping on your tracks, you finally dared to look at him and you regretted it immediately. His eyes reflected nothing but despair, sadness and lust.
"She was trying to-" you started but he cut you off quickly.
"Everything she said was true. Except for the part that we would hurt each other." he took your hand in his and you wanted so bad to squeeze it back, but you couldn't find the strength to do so. "The first time I read your lyrics, I knew you would become someone dear to me. You're as passionate about music as I am, you are easy to talk to, although I would debate on that with how you had ghosted me. I guess what I'm trying to say is I don't want you to push me away anymore, because I like you a lot."
"What about So-"
He laughed as to to interrupt you again. You were stubborn, for sure. "She's been involved with Minho for some time, she's got nothing to do with all of this."
He hesiated, but took a step forward to put his hand on your cheek. You had never seen him blush so hard and it was one heck of a cute sight. He brought your face closer and you leaned into his touch, foreheads now grazing against each other.
"I'm sorry." you finally spoke in a soft tone.
"Don't be sorry, just don't run away again."
"I won't."
That's all Chan wanted to hear. After containing himself since the moment he saw you in the bakery, he gave in and kissed you passionately. It had so much emotion and feelings into it. You could feel his sincerity only through his touch and it was enough for you to cry, but out of joy this time. He rubbed his thumb on your cheek to dry your tears off and pulled you closer to him. The scene could not have been more perfect. You were kissing your goddamn crush in the middle of a cute lively neighbourhood in the evening with the smell of cupcakes surrounding you. You eventually detached from each other, but still remained close.
"I assume this means you like me too?" Chan chuckled.
"Very much so, yes." you smiled.
"Can I take you out on a date?" he asked shyly and you sent him a smirk.
"This stroll you wanted earlier can be it."
He smiled like a child at your words and laid a kiss on the top of your head. "Sounds good to me."
taglist : @lenilla15 | @muddy-waters | @nanaspalette | @nattisbored | @popcatx0 | @vanblack95 | @aestheticsluut | @thanxxskz | @minhoino | @fairywriter-oracle
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ugh-yoongi · 2 years
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fall apart & redefine | knj
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(or, things are hard. namjoon falls back into old habits.)
→ pairing: idol!namjoon x f. reader → genre: porn with plot | angst, smut, canon compliant → rating: explicit. minors dni. → warnings: vague prior relationship, emotional hurt/comfort, namjoon is really going through it (a lot of talk about mental health, unhealthy coping mechanisms, identity crises), basically namjoon’s 220721 live happens and he booty calls his ex, when you try your best but you don’t succeed aka when you’re selfish and a lil toxic and trying to be better but aren’t sure how, this is basically a three-thousand word blowjob, so smut warnings: oral (m. receiving), some hand action, one very brief instance of dom!joon. this is basically my yoongi fic in a different outfit. → wordcount: 3.5k → listen to: 5 seconds of summer - take my hand • troye sivan - angel baby • duncan laurence - arcade • bloo - i’m the one • stray kids - red lights • keshi - xoxosos • blanks - lost in the moment → a/n: started this forever ago (literally right after the aforementioned live, so we are not gonna talk about how long it took me to write 3k words) and needed to get out of my slump so i’ve finally finished it. thank you to jess & bee for all of their help, always. thank you to namjoon for posting sadboi shit on his ig stories.
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Namjoon shouldn’t have called you.
Because it’d gone like—
(“You know I can’t fix you,” you say, voice so soft. Almost hesitant, like Namjoon will hear your uncertainty and spiral further, start running. Familiar, he thinks. He’s done that before. “Can’t fix this.”
Still, he sighs. Says, “I know, I just…” and somehow it’s enough.
“Okay,” you reply, and it sounds more like you’re trying to convince yourself rather than placate him. Sounds like a question. “Okay, I just want to make sure we’re both on the same page here.”
Namjoon stares at his bedroom ceiling and wonders what page he’s on. Doesn’t feel like he’s even in the book, to be honest. He’s untethered, drifting faster than he can ask for help, faster than he can reach out and grab onto an anchor, and when he’s like this he reverts to old habits. Just does what’s familiar, what feels good, and he knows it’s not fair, knows he always asks too much of you, but everything’s fucked. Everything is just really fucked and he doesn’t know who he is let alone what page he’s on.
“We are,” he lies. You aren’t, but the pain from that mismatch will hurt less than whatever’s going in his head. At least he has the self-awareness to know that much.
You’re quiet on your end of the phone. You’ve always had a penchant for calling out Namjoon’s bullshit: this is just more of it, wrapped up in the illusion of complexity. But the silence stretches on. Namjoon shouldn’t have called you, but old habits die hard or whatever. Every bad day before this had ended with you in his bed, so he’s not all that inclined to change it. Doesn’t really want anyone else there—not just because it’s too much fucking work, but they wouldn’t be you. Wouldn’t know him like you do.
Wouldn’t have that history.
“Is your door code still the same?”
It is.)
—and now he’s here.
Staring up at that ceiling again. Head a fucking mess, so much bearing down on him. This was supposed to be the easy part. Imagine his shock when it wasn’t. When, each day, it’s all he can do to get out of bed. Check his phone. Drag his ass into the shower. Stay awake. This was supposed to be the easy part, so why does he feel worse than ever?
“You’re not eating well,” you say, fingertips brushing over the valleys between his ribs.
Namjoon swallows. Tries to think up an excuse, but there’s no point, is there. He’s laid nearly bare beneath you and there’s nowhere to run. “No,” he admits. “Lost some weight.” His Adam’s apple bobs uncomfortably in his throat, exists alongside the lump that seems to have made itself a home there.
You just hum. It vibrates against his skin, raises goosebumps as he shivers involuntarily. “Still gorgeous,” you say, lips forming the words against his stomach. “Still so beautiful, Namjoon.”
It’s too much. He’d wanted this, sought it out, but it’s still too much. “Please,” he whispers, words waterlogged, and he’s going to cry, he is, but he knew that. He knew he’d be in this bed, powerless and overwhelmed. “Please don’t.”
You hum again. Dare a quick look up at him from between his legs. “Don’t tell you how beautiful you are?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Why not?” The pads of your fingers dig into the dimples at his hips. Dip beneath the waistband of his briefs, stretched thin around his thighs, tug downward. They’re stretched too thin. “You want me to lie to you?”
Does he? His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Sometimes.” He’s fully bare now, might as well play the part, tell the truth.
“What do you want me to lie about?”
All Namjoon can hear is the blood rushing in his ears. The sound of you kissing down his body, hip to thigh to calf, until you reach his ankle and run your thumb lightly over the ink there. Reverent, almost like you can’t believe it. Sometimes he can’t, either. Never thought he was built for that kind of permanence. Never thought he’d have anything that’d warrant a permanent reminder. “Want,” he begins, but his throat is so hoarse. “Want to hear you li-lie about all the things that used to be true.”
That catches your attention. Your gaze is sharp when it focuses on him, the nail of your thumb bordering on painful as it digs into the thin skin of his ankle joint. “And what would I have to lie about, Namjoon?” A crescent moon left behind.
A different kind of tattoo.
So much, he thinks. Whatever the two of you used to be isn’t what you are now, and so often he finds himself caught in all those things you used to say. All the words you used to use to tell him you loved him, and all the words he used to tell you that you shouldn’t. “That you—” he starts to say, but it’s choked off when you take his cock in your hand, the slick slide stealing away his focus. You’ve given him so little and he’s already teetering on the edge. Can feel the streaks of tears on his cheeks. All it does is make him feel worse. He’d asked for this and can’t even keep it together. Can’t even make it worthwhile for you—
“That I what?” He can’t answer you. The words are there, biting at the back of his teeth, and he can’t say them. Can’t say, I want to hear you lie and say you love me. Can’t say, I want it to not be a lie, but I’ve already stolen enough from you. “Namjoon.” Can’t say, I don’t deserve to hear my name sound so delicate in your mouth.
But you know. You always fucking know, and it drives him crazy, how gentle you are with him when he was so reckless with you; how you don’t hate him the way you should. So you just sigh, thumb the slit of his cock just to hear him whine, and say, “You want to hear me say I love you?” He shudders, tries to collapse in on himself. Finds it impossible to focus on both the way you’re touching him and the things you’re saying. Has to be one or the other. Nearly misses it when you just tsk, say, “I wouldn’t have to lie about that.”
A lie, just like he’d asked. That’s all it is, because he’s not brave enough to let himself hope. Hope is dangerous. Hope is how the two of you wound up here, with you between his legs, mouthing at his cock, and him in tears as he reaches another new low.
Namjoon shouldn’t have called you.
Your cheeks hollow around him and the pressure is delicious, on the verge of too much, and there’s the most obscene noise when you pull off of him. Then your hand’s back, stroking leisurely, like you have all the time in the world. “Why am I here?” you ask. Tone so soft. He doesn’t deserve it.
“I don’t know.”
You twist your wrist. “Don’t lie to me. We’re past that.”
He squeezes his eyes closed. Heat furls in his belly, threatens to spread all over, engulf him. Not yet, he thinks. “Habit,” he admits. Hates the way the truth sounds in his mouth, but it’s as honest as he’s willing to be. “You—you know. You know me. How I get.”
“Mm. Know you get stuck in that head of yours.” Namjoon nods, feels his hips leave the bed as you take him back in your mouth.
“Bad this time,” he says. “Can’t se-seem—fuck, baby—can’t seem to get out.”
You moan around him in response. I know, it says. A tap on his thigh, wordless instruction to keep going, keep talking. How many times have the two of you done this? How many times has he come in your mouth as he talks through some crisis, only for you to drag him back down to earth? Yeah, that’s habit, all right. “Everything is so hard,” he breathes. “Everything feels so impossible.”
He tangles his hands in your hair. Needs something to keep him grounded. Needs to touch you just to remember you’re real. “It’s su-supposed to be easy right now. Hiatus.” He snorts, derisive. He’s never had the luxury. “I’m almost 30 and I have no”—he moans loud, unabashed, when he hits the back of your throat—”no fuckin’ idea who I am. How am I supposed to start figuring that out now? I’m so far behind.”
“Are you?” you ask, alternating between long, languid licks at every spot he’s most sensitive and quick sucks at the head of his cock. “You’ve been secondary in your own life for twelve years, Joon. That’s not your fault. Why do you think you need to have it all figured out right now?”
Because not knowing has already cost me so much, he thinks. Can’t bring himself to say that, either, so he just… whimpers. Doesn’t trust a fucking word that might come out of his mouth if he opens it. Grabs onto your hair tighter and tries to guide his cock back into your mouth, but you slap his hand away. “Practice,” you say, finality in your tone.
Namjoon is sweat-slick, chest heaving. Right on the brink of an orgasm that’d have his toes curling, and you’ve just… stopped. He’s not going to whine. Not after he’s spent so long crying already, but he wants to. Instead, his brows pinch, hands tremble a little at how hard it is to reorient himself. “What?”
“Practice,” you repeat.
He wants to rip his hair out. “What the fuck d’you mean? How?”
“Start being honest.”
You might as well have shot him. “I—” I am, he nearly says. Sometimes he lies, like so many times tonight, but sometimes he’s too honest. Can’t stop himself from prying open his ribcage and inviting everyone to come take a look. Yoongi always tells him it’s just in his nature: as an artist, as someone always in pursuit of meaning, as someone who’s desperate to understand as much as he’s desperate to be understood.
Namjoon shouldn’t have called you tonight.
He should’ve called you before he went live and talked a bunch of shit.
That kind of honesty isn’t what you want. You already know he isn’t eating. You already know everything feels insurmountable to him right now. You already know he’s fucking miserable, because Namjoon has always been good at hiding when he has to, but never from you. In front of you, he’s always stripped bare. Always ten steps behind and needy, never on equal ground.
And he wants to do what you’re asking of him. He wants to be good for you, but the kind of honesty you want isn’t the kind on offer. “I can’t,” he says simply.
You click your tongue again, refusing to put it to better use. Namjoon doesn’t deserve it, anyway. Can’t even be honest. “Of course you can,” you answer. “How will you ever figure out who you are if you can’t even figure out how to tell the truth?”
It strikes exactly where it’s meant to. All those fucking songs Namjoon’s written about this: about personas and masks and being someone else, and you’ve just gone and stripped them all away. Took all those fanciful, bullshit words he’s written and set them on fire, dared him to exist as a person without them. Authentic. Namjoon’s not even sure he knows what that fucking word means, so he’s just a hypocrite on top of everything else he is.
“S’different,” he argues, and this time it’s you that snorts.
“We both know that isn’t true.”
His skin is scorching hot when he dabs at the sweat on his temples with the back of his hand. “What do you want me to say, then? You already have some fucking script thought up in your head?”
You roll your lips to keep from laughing. Namjoon has this nasty streak in him, sometimes. Loses his patience and lashes out when he feels like he can’t keep up, like everyone’s long since moved on and he’s only just gotten the joke. So used to being the smartest person in the room.
“That wasn’t very nice,” you say. Bite at the juncture of his hip, at the pad of fat there, and Namjoon can feel himself sinking again. Remembers how it feels to just let go, to exist outside of his body just for a little bit. “Apologize.” Remembers how it feels to relinquish control.
He whimpers when your teeth sink in again. A flashbang of pain to distract him from the storm inside his head. “S-sorry, baby, I’m sorry.”
Then you’re laving over all those bites, easing the sting. “It’s okay. You’re okay, Joon.”
“Didn’t mean it,” he continues, mumbling reassurances you don’t need. “Just—I just…”
When he dares to look down at you, you’re already staring back, head cocked. A question. What do you need? A prompt. Tell me how to help you. “Need your mouth,” he near-whines. “Please.” Your movements are hesitant, fragmented, and Namjoon fists the sheets to stay calm. Doesn’t know what to do with this headspace, that low-frequency thrum beneath his skin.
Still, you don’t give in. Stop moving altogether, and Namjoon whimpers. Feels the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, thinks about begging—knows you’d give in, you always do, always so good to him—but can’t force the words out. “I think,” you begin, filling in the gaps of his silence, nails dragging lazily across the insides of his thighs, “that we both have something the other wants.”
Namjoon’s breath hitches.
“You want me to get you off, and I want you to be honest.” You stick out your tongue and Namjoon stares, helpless, at the spit pooling on your tongue. Watches as it drips from your mouth down the length of his cock. As his vision goes a little blurry, he thinks he’d agree to anything.
So he just says, “Okay,” and keens high in his throat when you finally, finally follow the line of spit with your tongue. You work him over once, twice, and then your soft hands replace your hot mouth and Namjoon’s shuddering.
“Tell me something true,” you say, voice wrecked and hoarse. Namjoon did that. Fuck, Namjoon did that to you.
There’s very little keeping him from coming except knowing that he shouldn’t. He feels delirious. Reasons that all the sounds he’s making can’t possibly be coming from him, but they are, and he manages to shut up long enough to give you what you want. Says, “I still—still love you,” he grits out. Hands abandon the sheets, an arm thrown across his face because he can’t bear to look at you.
Doesn’t want to know your reaction.
But the stream of consciousness is nice—the mindlessness, the freedom, the thought of maybe ruining something permanently. Because he needs to let you go. Can’t let whatever the two of you have keep existing in this limbo, this liminal space. How ironic that Namjoon can give you everything except the only thing you want.
“I still love you,” he repeats, hips thrusting in search of friction, “and I’d still make all the same choices.”
You still. Namjoon isn’t sure if the gasp—so soft, blink and you’ll miss it—comes from him or you. Not that it matters. You’ve gone still and Namjoon finally just fucking said it and what else is left. What else can the two of you desperately cling to, now that you know Namjoon would do it all over again? Make the same choices every time? Watch the tears form and cling to your lashes as he clears his throat and breaks your heart, lets you go?
He’d do it again and again. Break your heart, give you some space, call you up with some sob story. Meet you in his bed. Kiss your forehead at the door but never ask you to stay.
His hand finds the back of your neck. Tangles in the hair there—gentle at first before it turns demanding. You tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything that Namjoon knows you this well: knows when to take and when to push. Knows the thrill you get when he’s beneath you, needy and desperate, but also knows what it does when he plants his feet and takes what he wants.
You’re just along for the ride. Maybe that’s always been the case.
“Your mouth, baby,” he says, gripping his cock with his free hand to guide it to your lips, still spit-slick and ready. He groans, fucks your mouth in shallow thrusts, just enough friction to keep him teetering on the edge but not enough to spill over. Liminal space. “Sometimes it scares the shit out of me, you know. That I’m capable of hurting someone this much and can be this selfish.” A deeper thrust that has his cock twitching against your tongue.
“I love you and it’s still not enough.” There’s the anger. Namjoon feels so many things lately, but anger is always easy. Familiar, like a pain that still lingers long after he thought he’d gotten rid of it. “I think I used to be a person, before all of this.”
Namjoon thinks about Robert Johnson, about this story Yoongi used to tell him in those early days when they had nothing and were nothing, scared to death, staring up at a ceiling they now shared with too many other people. We could just sell our fucking souls to the devil like that American guy, he’d said, if all this shit winds up being for nothing. The only two awake, always paralyzed by fear back then: Yoongi terrified of failure, but Namjoon—Namjoon dreaded the success.
Namjoon had known who he was back then: too smart for his own good, a rapper with a stupid haircut, a gamble some guy with just enough money had been willing to take, someone too young to bear all the weight that had been placed on him. Success would change him; he knew that. He’d be more shocked if it didn’t, with the way they’d all come up. Pit against one another, always competing, always doing stupid shit to make money. Everything had been a game, dog-eat-dog, and maybe they had sold their souls, just not in the way Yoongi had joked about.
Because who is he now, when there’s nothing left to prove?
Almost thirty, more money than he could spend in a million lifetimes, a pile of broken hearts at his feet. Yours, most egregiously. Who is he now, after a decade-plus of a one-track mind? Sold his soul, and now he’s paying the price.
This is too much introspection for the middle of a blowjob, he thinks. It’s not like this happens often. Namjoon doesn’t have the energy for it, the searching and the discretion and the fear that always comes after. Whole life tumbling down like a house of cards because of a signature on the wrong line. You’re safe, just like anger; might as well savor it. Try to commit it to memory while he can.
Not that it’s hard to do, when you’re working him over like this.
It’s been raining a lot in Seoul—wet season, streets flooded, still not enough to wash you away. Namjoon dreams about a simpler life: meeting you for a date in the park, the sky cracking open unexpectedly, the way your eyes would widen and your laughter would trail behind you as you ran, hand clasped tightly in his. Namjoon thinks about the way you’d cup your hands and catch the rainwater. Thinks about all the rainwater you’ve collected and lost.
Namjoon loves you and it’s still not enough, in the same way that the rain will always spill over, disappear through the spaces between your fingers.
Namjoon thinks he might be the rain.
He’d written a song for you once and never admitted it. Funny how that goes: how he can strip himself to the bone for words and still hide behind them. tokyo. Thunder booms, you do something with your mouth that has him spilling into it, and the words he’d written taste acrid in his mouth.
If I could choose my dream, I just wanna stop right next to you.
He’d chosen his dream. Said he’d choose it each time, in every lifetime: there isn’t a universe in which he’d choose you.
(Namjoon shouldn’t have called you.)
You decline his offer to reciprocate. Clean yourself up in his ensuite without much fanfare. Don’t linger as Namjoon redresses and walks you out. What is there to say, when he still loves you but doesn’t regret letting you go. Namjoon kisses your forehead at the door and doesn’t ask you to stay.
(You shouldn’t have picked up the phone.)
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As always, thank you for reading! My inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. I’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤
If you want more of this universe, please check out the series masterlist!
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shadowbriar · 1 year
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Fred Weasley - Outgrown
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Pairing : (F/M) || Fred Weasley x Reader Word Count : 2.9k Warning : Arguments. Fred being a dick. Prompts : “I’d ask but judging by the look on your eyes, I can already tell that you’ve closed our chapter.” Notes : I’m sorry it took forever for me to post it. It’s a rather challenging request, I have to admit. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕
Time is a thorny thing to understand. One minute she’d wish to freeze it, pack it in a box and keep it under her bed to visit every once in a while. The other time she wished it would pass faster than the beat of her heart, unable to stand and watch as the situation unpacks right before her eyes. But most of the time, she wished that she could go back and relive the moments where things felt perfectly in place.
She’s spent every ticking of the clock each night to figure out when things started to crumble. When was the last time his hands felt perfect in hers? When was the last time his words sent blissful jolts to her spine? When was the last time his smile and laughter fueled her heart with delight? But those questions slowly turn into what. What happened? What made them strain this way? What did she do? What did he do?
His side of the bed has long been cold. As cold as the forced smiles he mercifully showed her in the mornings. There were never giggles and playful teasing by the kitchen anymore, no cuddles on the weekends as they watch some muggle movies they try so hard to understand. It was as if every blissful memory they had was a mere imagination. 
And now she has her eyes glued on him, hands busy trying to refill the stock of Nosebleed Nougat. The sight of him flirting with a customer no longer hurts her, only made her wonder more on what exactly happened between them. He was leaning on the wall, hands folded to his chest as he made the girl giggles and blushes. She wonders if he told her the same compliments and jokes he once did to her back in their school year.
“Excuse me, Miss?” Someone called, tapping on her shoulder lightly “I can’t seem to find the Bruise Removal Paste. Could you please show me where it’s stored?”
She smiles, putting away the box of Nosebleed Nougat, “Of course, Sir. Please follow me.”
Walking the young gentleman to the other aisle, she warmly shows the new placed stock of said paste. The man took his time to look for the right product, as there were plenty of varieties to choose from. She studies him quietly, reckoning that he’s not much older than her.
He takes two different kinds of pastes and shows it to her, “Which do you suppose would be best for quidditch bruises?”
“Either would work just fine.” She answers and takes one of the potions from the shelf “But if you want the fastest result I suggest you get one of these potions, too. Guaranteed healings within the hour.”
The man takes the potion on her hand and blushes when their skin makes contact.
She notices the flustered gesture the man made and quickly takes a step back, not wanting to give any wrong impressions. Clearing her throat, she flashes a faint smile, “Would that be all, Sir?”
“Unless you sell bludgers and other quidditch equipment too now, then I suppose that would be all.”
“Right,” She says with a smile “Let me help you check out, then.”
She walks to the cashier with the man trailing her from behind. She quickly scans his shopping bag, noticing the nervous gesture the man was radiating. His eyes were glued on her, she could tell. It wasn’t that he was making her uncomfortable, he was kind really, yet getting the attention of another man than Fred felt like a very strange thing to feel.
“Love, I think George called for you.” Fred says, appearing out of nowhere as he slides a hand to her waist “I can continue this gentleman’s purchase. Why don’t you go and see what it is that George needs.”
She raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that George was still in his lunch break, “That’s alright, I’m about to finish. I’ll see what George needs right after.”
“Love,” Fred calls once more, this time with a firm tone as if he’s trying to maintain his anger “I think it would be best if you go and see him now.”
She stares at Fred with an irritated look before turning to the customer and flashes him an apologetic smile. She walked away from the cashier, letting Fred to continue the purchase. This would be the very first time she’s ever seen him get jealous. Sure the man was trying to hit on her, but she was only showing mere hospitality as what other shopkeepers would do. She wasn’t the one flirting and whispering rubbish to the customers just so they would giggle and buy one of their love potions.
The change in Fred’s attitude baffles her. It was as if he’d turned into a completely different person. Someone he knows for certain that she wouldn’t like, let alone love. As if he adopted all the traits she hates in a guy and dumped it as his new personality.
Exactly what happened to him?
—-
She turns off the stove as the kettle whistles, pouring the hot water to the teapot as she waits for the teabags to seep in. It has been a long day, physically and emotionally draining her. Fred had never asked her to come and help with the joke shop during the weekends, but with her tight schedule at the Ministry and him being so occupied with running and inventing new products, she really didn’t have much choice on the ways they could spend their time with.
At first helping at the joke shop was fun. George would always sulk and make commentaries on how their romantic display wouldn’t be good for business, making them rub their romance harder on his face. Yet for the past few months, her presence has been neglected as nothing but a mere extra hand. Even George was starting to show his concern about their relationship, something she always brushes off with white lies.
The closing of the front door was heard as Fred walked in, hand busy trying to set loose his tie. His hair was dishevelled, looking tired and stressed as he’s always been for the past few weeks. She wasn’t sure what it is that’s frustrating him as the shop seems to be skyrocketing. Perhaps another thing is occupying his mind.
“Would you like some tea?” She asks, making her presence known “I just brewed some.”
Fred shakes his head, “No, I’m alright.”
She nods, not uttering another word.
He proceeds to get inside their room, perhaps about to get a hot shower to wash away his tiredness. She taps her fingers on her mug, thinking of the stark contrast of the condition of their relationship now to how it once was. There were no kisses, no pet names called, and certainly no “I love you”s echoing through the flat each time he returns from work. It was as if there was nothing of their relationship left.
Before she could take a sip of her tea, Fred came back out of the bedroom, brows furrows and hands folded in front of his chest, “What were you doing?”
She knits her brows, “What do you mean?”
“Earlier, at the shop.” He says, tone laced with accusation “You were flirting with that man.”
“I was not.”
“Yes, you were, and don’t deny it because I saw it with my own eyes.” Fred hisses, taking steps closer to the kitchen table now “You were acting all shy, blushing and all as you talk to that man. What, is he your new boyfriend now?”
“What- Are you drunk, right now? You’re talking nonsense!” She argues, feeling anger boiling up her veins from the accusation “I was just being nice. Isn’t that what shopkeepers are supposed to do? Being nice?”
Fred chuckles mockingly, “You were much more than being nice, Love. You’re practically begging for him to take you home.”
Her jaw dropped, surprised and hurt from his commentary. A hint of regret was visible on his face right after he uttered the words but it’s obvious that his head was red raw. Fred was angry and jealous. A combination she has never seen before.
“I’m not going to fight you over nonsense like this.” She says short, trying her best to keep a cold head and walks away from her seat.
“Yeah? Go on and walk away. See if I have any care for whatever this is we have.”
“You know what, fine, let’s talk!” She yells back “You don’t get to act all jealous and be angry at me when you’ve been such a flirt yourself, alright! You want to talk about today? Sure, let’s talk about today. You don’t get to stand there and act all saintlike when you’ve flirted with girls all day, Fred Weasley. The only reason you stopped was because your ego was hurt that someone actually tried to come and talk to me.”
Fred’s face was red, “I was not flirting with anyone.”
“Yeah? Then what do you call whispering rubbish to some random girls and making them blush on the corners of the shop?”
“The same thing you said to me earlier, I was just being nice to a customer.”
“Don’t give me that bull, Fred. You know there’s a stark difference between our customer care.” She spat, eyes starting to get glassy "Those girls were flirting with you and you entertain them still. How is it that I helped a man checkout their bag and I'm suddenly the villain?"
A tear fell from her eyes, making Fred to wince a little at the severity of their fight right now.
"I'm only doing my job. Unlike you who happen to be more engrossed in humouring our customers than to actually make them pay for our products." She continues, wiping her tears away with her jumper sleeve “You know, Fred. I try so hard to make it work for us, to have as much time as possible around you. I spend my weekends at the shop, hoping to be closer with my boyfriend yet all I’ve been getting is the sight of him being comfortable with strangers.”
"Nobody asked you to work here, alright. Nobody asked for your help!" Fred yells, his volume getting louder and louder “Maybe if you would just stop being so clingy and live your own god damn life, I wouldn’t have to try so hard to flee out of your grasp.”
She gasps at Fred’s venomous words. His sentences felt like blaring thunder, deafening her eardrums and making her head ring in pain. Her tears are now flowing hard, soaking her cheeks. Never had Fred raised his words before, let alone spat the words that felt like whips to her trembling heart.
Her loud sob seems to have awakened him from his rage. Facial features softened as he tried to reach her hands, “Love, I’m sorry. I didn’t-”
She didn’t let him finish his words. She walks fast to their bedroom, taking her wand and her purse. She can’t be with him right now. She needs to be alone.
“Love, what are you doing?” Fred asks, his tone laced with fear as he watches her pack a few of her clothes “Where are you going?”
She didn’t answer. The only noise echoing in their room was her little sniffles, still trying her best to stop the tears from flowing. Her fingertips were shaking from the heartbreak but she had to continue, she needed to get out of that place before more hurtful words spilled and heard. There’s only so much a girl could take in one night.
Before she could walk past him, Fred took her hand and looked at her with pleading eyes, “Where are you going?”
“I swear to Merlin Fred, if you don’t let me go now we both are going to suffer and regret the night for the rest of our lives.” She says with a voice cracking in sadness “Let me go.”
With reluctance he finally let go of her hands. He watches as she leaves their flat, front door closing ever so slowly and blocking his sight of her. The silence of the apartment now becomes haunting, the sound of his heart beating fast inside his chest seems to be the only thing gripping him to reality.
What has he done?
—-
She takes a deep breath as she opens the front door, taking a step inside the flat she once called home. Everything was slightly out of place. Shoes scattered on the floor, dirty dishes by the sink, and laundry piled up by the corner. It looks like he hasn’t got the time to take care of himself.
It’s been a few weeks since she left. She hasn’t heard a word nor seen him since. A part of her was grateful that he’s giving her the time and space to retreat yet a bigger part of her is still hurt over the fact that Fred might not even care about her at all. Perhaps her absence was something he rejoices. He did say that she was being too clingy.
Now she walks to what once was their bedroom and finds her suitcase. She flicks her wand, making her clothes to find their spot in the luggage. She walks to the bedside table and packs her other belongings. Makeup, jewelleries, and other trinkets that were hers are now placed into her other bag. Packing up her possessions clean as if they were never there in the first place.
Before her things were neatly tucked into her bags, she could hear the front door being opened and closed. She lets out a sharp breath, not expecting him to have returned that early. Fred has never come back to his flat during his lunch break, so why would he be here now?
“Love?” 
She heard his voice echoing, noticing that someone was inside the flat. His footsteps were followed not long after, appearing by the bedroom door. The smile that was growing on his face turns into a tight line within seconds as he sees her packing her belongings. He takes a gulp from the fear washing over him.
“Fred,” She calls softly, tone unsure on how to address the situation “You’re home early.”
He nods lightly, not saying a word and looking like he’s trying to digest the situation happening before his eyes.
“Would you like some tea?”
She wanted to facepalm herself. Tea? Is that the best she could come up with?
Fred smiles lightly, nodding, “Sure.”
And so she walks to the kitchen, Fred following from behind like a lost puppy. She could see from the short glimpse of him that he too has been miserable. He doesn’t dress as neat and scholarly as he loved to dress for the shop. He was only wearing a shirt that looks like it hasn’t been ironed, an unmatched tie and a coat that she knew was his least favourite. She wonders if George nags him for not following their agreed upon twinning dress code.
The wait for the kettle to boil seems to be forever. She didn’t dare to turn and look at Fred, afraid that she might break the fortress she so hard tried to build over the last few days. She didn’t even expect to see him in person today. What exactly could she do but to look away from him?
“I’d ask but judging by the look on your eyes, I can already tell that you’ve closed our chapter.” 
She lets out a pitiful chuckle, looking down to her palms, “Haven’t you been the one that closed it first, Fred?”
Fred didn’t answer. She could hear his shuddering exhale, seemingly accepting the farewell that’s bound to happen any second now. She wanted to go and hug him, tell him that everything will be alright and that this storm will pass with ease, but moving her feet felt like an impossible task to do. She too needed an assurance.
“I’m sorry.” He says weakly, voice trembling as he tries his best to not cry “I hope you can forgive me one day.”
She turns to face him, fighting her tears, “What happened with us, Fred?”
“I don’t know.” He says sadly, eyes glued on her “Perhaps we’ve outgrown each other.”
She nods, letting out a sigh.
“I still love you.” Fred confessed genuinely, his features softened “I just don’t know why I haven’t shown it the way I should have. There’s just so many things I have to do, so many things I have to think about, and I’m sorry that you have to be the one I put least in my priority.”
“I love you too, Fred.” She sighs, coming closer to him and resting her hand to his cheek “But perhaps it’s time for us to figure things out on our own. Maybe one day, when we’ve found what we’re looking for, if the universe permits, we will cross paths again and love each other better.”
A tear finally left his eyes. Fred begins to sob, nodding at the mutual agreement of their parting. He pulled her close, resting his face into the crook of her neck. He would miss her embrace, her comforting scent and the warmth of her words that he once called home. Never had he imagined a time when he would have to say goodbye to her, where he has to live in a reality where she’s not by his side. Yet the milk’s spoiled and hurtful words have been uttered. Now all that is left for Fred to do is find the good in goodbye.
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alangdorf · 2 months
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Welp, the ref lineup still isn’t done cause I haven’t drawn Shion yet, and the belated valentines I’ve been working on are gonna be like at least a month late cause I just planned three more, but what I did do these past couple weeks is start writing a fanfic and then immediately abandon it to go draw a bunch of only tangentially-related suzutsubas (except for that first pic; that’s a scene from it, albeit one I haven’t written yet), only half of which are fit for public posting (one of ‘em I could make a few edits and feel ok about posting sometime; it’s not that out there, it’s just, y’know. Hamal Cine Bad End Hyperbolic Torture Chamber. I’m usually very “whatever happens happens” about my art but if I don’t show some restraint I know I’ll end up stuck in there forever), but hey, since I’ve been teasing them for ages and finally have some finished stuff with them, take a couple Suzumii! Also gonna ramble abt headcanons under the cut (and it will be LONG)
To begin, a note abt my Len’en gender/pronoun headcanons: as a they/them preferrer myself, I’m thrilled that most people just stick with those for everyone, but I’ve developed some more detailed headcanons as I go through working on designs and I’ll generally be using those. Don’t worry though, most of them are still nonbinary and basically all of them are trans/gq. Relevant ones for this post are Tsubakura: they/them nonbinary (transmasc to some degree) and Suzumi: cis female, question mark?? (to be elaborated on); for clarity’s sake I usually use she/her for Arde and Hamal Cine individually and plural they for the system collectively (also I don’t usually use their nicknames, dunno why), but singular they for Benet (the wiki says Benny is probably short for Benetnasch so I’m assuming that’s their actual name) for reasons which will also be elaborated on (sort of).
Aaalso this clearly isn’t autobiographical or anything but I think I’m subconsciously putting a lot of myself into Suzumi because 1) we do look pretty similar (brown wavy bob + blue eyes) and 2) given their current status as both the main antagonist and the most well-known plural Len’en character (I get the impression that Hooaka also being plural isn’t super common knowledge; I mean it took me several read-throughs of their wiki page and their dialogue with BPoHC Secret Team to get what they were getting at lol) I am probably way too anxious about doing a bad stereotype. Just an observation and also probably partially why I’ve even ended up with so much headcanon for them in the first place
And before I get into the thick of it, notes on derivations from canon: I’m running with the assumption that Suzumi being a system is a relatively recent development tied to whatever incident it was that caused the falling-out, since Tsubakura is like the only person who seems at all familiar with Hamal (including Mitori/Chouki/Fumikado, but they’re more easily explained away as just having met with one of the other alters the few times they’ve interacted) even though she’s supposedly usually the one fronting. They don’t seem to know the mechanics of it though, judging by their confusion when Arde implied that she and Hamal are different people. So basically, I’ll be referring to pre-incident Suzumi as a different character from any of the other three. (Ngl I am very influenced by Dissociation Constant on that and just in general [when will my wife The One and Only Suzutsuba Fic return from the war…..]) I was also debating whether to have Suzumi have any history with the gang before starting to work at the lab/whether stuff would happen around high school or college age, cause they keep referring to everything happening “a long time ago” and I know I, a 24-year-old, feel like stuff that happened five years ago was like yesterday, but I do have the pandemic and not really doing much of anything for most of that time to reckon with so like, eh. College age makes more sense in my head and so does the dynamic of like, Suzumi was only introduced into the friend group (she was acquainted w Hoojiro and Yabu already though bc lab) because she was dating Tsubakura and since that ended, and badly (understatement of the century), they have extremely little reason to be civil with each other and also interacting at all is really awkward.
Ok now on with it! Either end of high school or beginning of college, Suzumi ends up interning at Tsubakura’s lab for college credit (Tsuba’s already practically a department head despite being like 17 or something because. Idk. Who even knows what’s up with them) and she’s like. Only wears t-shirts and jeans (bought a bunch of khakis for this job though), [reading] glasses from the men’s section, hates leaving her hair down (it’s lab safety anyways). Repressed queer in denial, you know the type. Starts interacting a lot with Mx. Tsubakura “wears short shorts that everybody thinks are actually a skirt and also uses ore and omae almost exclusively” Enraku who seems to have everything all figured out and is immediately starstruck (GIRL WHY?? they are such a mess). Lots of “do I want to date them or do I want to be them” confusion (this will be relevant later); eventually evolves into the “am I trans or just a lesbian” question (not that they would need to be attracted to women to be into Tsubakura but you get the picture), which never quite gets answered.
In any case, they do eventually start dating (Tsubakura thinks she’s cute and smart so they reciprocate), and they’re not like super great together cause Tsubakura is emotionally constipated at the best of times (Suzumi’s into that though) and neither of them are the most mentally/emotionally healthy people even back then and also Tsubakura is more or less Suzumi’s boss which is weird, but they’re kind of ok??? Tsubakura’s mom dies at some point, also they move in together (college housing is expensive), the rest of the crew at the very least tolerate Suzumi, etcetera.
And then…! [insert catastrophic event here]!! I don’t have a shot to call on this yet cause I have no idea what it could’ve been (and I’m sure it’ll get revealed at some point anyways); I’m just banking on it being something extremely not mundane and something where you could reasonably set the blame on either (or neither) party cause they sure both seem convinced the other is way worse, huh! In Tsubakura’s case at least, blaming Suzumi is partially a defense mechanism so their self-loathing doesn’t get the better of them over it (guess what the fic was supposed to be about, lol).
The worst part of all this business though is that they DON’T break up over it immediately and it just makes everything orders of magnitude worse for everyone involved. Tsubakura and Arde have hate sex MORE THAN ONCE………… they would both really rather forget about it. Hamal thinks it’s hilarious, ofc, but the less said about her, the better. And Benet… exists??? The only idea that I’m running off of for them atm is the observation that I think they’re the only character with flat black eyes other than Tsubakura/Tsurubami and the subsequent idle thought, “hey if someone malded so hard about a breakup that they ended up with an introject of their ex would that be messed up or what?” So make of that what you will. (Oh and it may have been obvious that this is what I was going for but Hamal is femme and Arde is butch and they’re constantly squabbling abt aesthetic presentation. Having Arde be straight-up male would’ve been too straightforward of an interpretation and I think it’s funnier this way)
The canonically mentioned murder attempts start taking place and I’m leaning towards Tsubakura eventually being convinced to move out even though it was originally their apartment, albeit mostly just because the wikipedia page for house sparrows mentions that they’re known to take over swallows’ nests, usually after they’ve been abandoned, but they will sometimes drive away or kill the current occupants, and that was a very fun fact to come across when specifically doing research for Len’en but idk how else to incorporate it lol. And so on and so forth up until the present time.
Uhhh is that all I have atm? I think so! Anyway, I think I finally shook out all my suzutsuba doodles (and rambling, though I do still have that fic to work on. idk whether I’ll be able to finish it though; I started strong with an extended metaphor in the middle but Iiiii’m not sure if I can successfully write my way up to it while making it make sense. Also I may draw pretty slow but I write even slower!! Eh I’m sure I’ll post some of it sometime) for the time being so I should theoretically be able to finish up my bigger projects now. Maybe I’ll have the valentines ready in time for white day? We’ll see!
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snek-panini · 3 months
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At long last, I have a new book to share! Feels like forever since the last one. This is Vita Nova, a fantastic Good Omens fic by @philoomenaa that I asked to bind way back in October. It took me a while to get here and I learned several new techniques for this bind but it was so very worth the wait. It's an excellent pre-season 2 story from 2019-2020, involving the fandom's favorites dealing with an unexpected bout of both humanity and memory loss. It's just...really really good and I love it.
More photos and process talk under the cut! There are a lot of details to see with this one.
One of the things I learned for this bind was homemade book cloth. I used the heat n bond method and had pretty good results with this satiny bronze cloth that I found in the Joann's remnant bin. The making of the cloth was fairly straightforward but it handles very differently to regular book cloth. The satin is really slippery and absolutely would not hold a crease at the hinge. I think it also shrank a little at the gluing stage? Which sounds weird but I left my usual amount of space for the corner turn-ins but still had teeny tiny gaps on three of the corners, which has never happened to me before. I also had an issue with glue seepage when I applied HTV to the cover and spine. You can see this in the images above, and here in the spine photos:
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Part of the reason it has that fancy art nouveau frame on the cover is an attempt to hide this. I think it's the heat press re-activating the heat n bond to cause it. I found out two things here: that fabric requires less press time than book cloth or cardstock, and that if you move the heat press slowly but constantly like an iron it is way less likely to do this. I was super disappointed that it happened but now, a few days later, it doesn't seems so bad. I guess some items just come with a little personal history already baked in.
Here, have some more glamour shots:
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The geometric endpapers were chosen specifically to go with this cloth. I found them at the same craft store and knew I had use them together, they look so incredible. And I learned edge gilding for this project! It was very annoying. The final result here is with heat transfer foil, and I did about six tests on scrap text blocks before I got a result I was at all satisfied with. I tried rub n buff (great coverage, not shiny enough, kept coming off on my fingers even after curing for 2 days) and an actual gilding kit (flaked off as soon as I separated the pages). The heat foil still has some patchy spots but was by far the best-looking result. I also learned double-core end bands for this project! Because I wanted some kind of match for those opulent endpapers and didn't want to settle for just two colors. I think they came out pretty well for a first try and I'll definitely be doing them again.
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Couple of photos of the ribbon I chose for the bookmark. It's probably a little too wide for a book this length; you can see in the end band photo that I had to fold it in half to get it to lay in the spine properly. But it looks so good with the other design elements that I couldn't resist. Luxury all the way on this one.
Speaking of luxury, have a look at the interior:
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From left to right, we have the title page, the ornament I chose for the chapter numbers, and the scene break divider. All the images came from rawpixel with just the lightest amount of editing from me. The chapter image is the same as the star on the title page, but I made it gray and took out the center to turn it into a frame for the numbers. The cloth and endpapers really set the tone for this one all the way through, and all the other design choices followed from there. It's really gorgeous, guys. I love it so much.
And that's it! That was the last work in progress I had from 2023, and I'm so pleased to have finally finished it. Hope you like it, AMidnightDreary!
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hii, i’m not sure if ur recieving requests rn but i’m jst gna shoot my shot
could i request reader x xavier where shes not the dating type and ppl have tried and failed to try and ask her out, date her, etc. and then comes along xavier who’s determined to take her out on a date (respectfully)
and yeahh
Oh my god I´m so sorry this took forever to write! I just hated everything I brought onto the page. I hope you still enjoy dear <3
Not the dating type
pairing: Xavier Thorpe x fem!reader
synopsis: You had never given much thought to dating, but what happens when, by accident, you meet a certain artist. Will your stance on the matter change?
warnings: none
word count: 1.4k
You had never given much thought to dating. Not that you had anything against it, it was just that it felt a little too superficial whenever someone did ask you out. You were happy spending the time apart from your friends and schoolwork with yourself. Which right now you wished there was more of. 
“Why didn´t you go out with them? They´re like super cute...!”, your friend asked you for the nth time. 
“Do we have to discuss this again? Why would I go out with someone who I know isn´t even interested in the same things as I am in the slightest and that doesn´t know me at all? Plus, you know I like spending time on my own. I just want to have a good time and write every once in a while.”, you take a bite from your lunch. “Despite, don´t you think they are like the blandest person to ever exist? Like just really bland?” 
For the nth time your friend lets out a distressed sigh at your answer. Though even she can´t help herself to not chuckle at the emphasis on ´really bland´. “I take this as my sign to not even ask you about this year's dance?” 
“Not unless you want to hear last year's answer all over again. Isn´t it a bit too early to think about that anyway?”
She shrugs and the two of you finish the meal talking about an assignment before you have to head into different directions for afternoon classes.
That evening after lunch you go back outside into the quad. Most students are busy with god knows what and so it is not too crowded. The air is still warm and so you decide to lean onto the cool stone wall. Fully concentrated on the writing in front of you, you don´t notice the tall figure looming over you, trying to get to exactly that wall. At least you can feel a finger tapping your shoulder.
“Sorry, but you are kind of in my way.”, looking up you see into a pair of green eyes.
“Oh, I´m sorry. I didn´t even notice.”, you hold up the journal. “That looks really good by the way. Did you paint that?”
“Uh… yeah… Thank you.”
“Anyway I better go get back inside. I´m sorry again for sitting in your way.”, you smile at him while you dust yourself off and then walk back inside.
This would happen regularly afterwards. You´d always sit down in that same spot and when he eventually came over to continue painting you´d talk for a bit. Mostly about art at first. You asked Xavier about his paintings and how he found himself picking up drawing and painting and he would ask you about the stories you wrote in that journal he never saw you without. As time progressed you found the conversations had taken to more personal topics as well. You found yourselves greeting each other in passing and before you knew it you thought of the schools resident tortured artist, as your friend and the other students had dubbed him, as a friend.
“So what do you want to do today?”, you asked the artist curiously.
“Actually I wanted to show you something. Come on, it´s not far from here.”, he seemed a little more nervous than usually.
“Alright.”, you made it a point not to mention your observation but quite some time after wandering through the woods you couldn´t bite back a joking question. “You´re not trying to kidnap me, are you?”
“What? No, don´t worry. We should be there soon.”
Indeed it only took a couple more steps before you stood outside an old shed.
“I´m sorry where are we right now?”, you stay back a bit as he takes off the heavy chain to open the door.
“I found this shed a couple of years ago and Weems let me clean it out and use it as an art studio.”
Stepping in, you get hit by just walls and canvases filled with paintings.
“Wow, you must be here often.”, you can´t hide the amazement in your voice entirely.
“Pretty much every chance I get…”
You spend the afternoon in the Studio, talking like you do until you find what you assume is another canvas hidden behind a big piece of fabric. 
“Hey, Xavier, what’s underneath that?”, you point to it.  
“Oh, it’s not done yet.”, he brushes the question aside quickly. 
Once more you don’t push it. 
The next time you get to the shed it’s gone and the times after you don’t see it either, so you slowly forget about it.  
When you go there one evening to have some time truly to yourself and write, like you had done a lot lately, you catch Xavier with it. 
Too far into the music and his thoughts he doesn’t hear the door open or close. Neither does he hear you walk up behind him. Standing on your tiptoes to look over his shoulder you see it. A picture of you. Only then does he realise you are there. Trying to hide the canvas as fast as possible, he couldn´t do much for you to unsee it.
“Hey… I didn´t think you were coming here today.”, his face start turning redder by the second.
“Yeah, I just needed some time away from everyone else…”, God this was awkward.
“Oh, okay”, this ends the conversation for that moment. You go to sit at the small table to do your thing and Xavier does his. This time the silence between you isn´t as comforting or comfortable as it usually was and so you speak up again.
“Are we gonna talk about the painting or not? I know what you usually paint. Is there something I need to know?”, you can hear the second chair scraping before he speaks.
“No, nothing like that at least.”, he thinks about what to say next. “Well, I didn´t plan on doing it like this, but… I had this dream over and over again since I was young. Like really young. Of just that scene. Ever since we started talking it came back twice as often. And I know what you said about the other guys that asked you out, but… I wanted to ask you if, maybe some time, you would want to go on a date with me?”
This time it was on you to be silent. “You are really sweet, Xavier. I just… I don´t think I can say yes to that. Not only because of what you heard, but you basically just broke up with Bianca too. Enid would have this on her blog God knows how fast. You know what position that would put both of us in. I´m sorry, I better get back to school.”
Things got a bit weird for a while after this. You never stopped talking, but that afternoon never left the back of your head. Ultimately you pulled yourselves together though and when he asked you for a second time, on the day of the Poe cup, things went over all smoother. However it got you thinking things over.
When he asked you out only a short time later for a date to the Rave`N you surprised both of you with a yes.
“Wait, really? You´re not just saying yes because…?”, he asked.
“Yes, really Xavi.”, you chuckled. “In fact I think this is going to be a fun evening.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“After you asked me before the Poe cup I think I realized that I actually like being with you not only as a friend, unlike I had thought… It also felt different like when anyone else asked me.”
And you were right. Though you didn´t stay long at the dance itself and headed out to spend the evening away from all the loud music. You laughed a lot and by the end Xavier brought you back to your room. Not hearing any concerns about being caught by a teacher.
“Tonight was great, but you better go before you get caught.”, you still giggle. “Go.”
He still doesn´t move or say anything when you open the door to get into your room. Just as you opened the zipper if the dress, your phone gives off a high pitched ping. ´You were too fast. I wanted to ask if you want to get coffee tomorrow. As kind of a second date?´
Rolling your eyes, chuckling again you send back a ´Sure. That sounds great 😊´
You think you can hear the buzzing of a phone and a whispered celebration outside, but blame it on the setting in tiredness.
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naranjapetrificada · 4 months
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Ooooh thank you for playing with me! I enjoyed your answers!
You write both Ed and Stede beautifully, but I totally get what you mean about getting into Ed's hornet's nest!
Funny, I don't really listen to music as I write because I get too distracted, but I love linking songs to scenes. Weird.
Awww... I'm freakishly proud that my words could make you cry. You'll never know how much your comments and support mean to me.
I made myself cry when I finished AWoTT because I hate the last few chapters. They did a real disservice to the story because I rushed and tried to write something readers would like instead of what I'd done for most of it. On top of that, I ruined the Buttons/Jeanne d'arc ending because I worried that it would seem like I was ripping off the show. They were both supposed to turn into birds. I can't face trying to fix it. (If you haven't read the end, don't waste your time, and if you did and were disappointed we are on the same page.)
Eeek! Sorry for the ramble... xoxoxo
Before I get to the actual reply to this ask: if y'all haven't been treated to A World of Tempestuous Things, one of the top-five best fics in the fandom, I'm gonna need you to drop everything and read it the way I did whenever I got a notification that a new chapter had been posted.
Re: the ask itself:
I'm sorry you're dissatisfied with how it turned out but if it's any consolation it felt like a fitting end to me! The first time I tried to read the final chapter I literally couldn't for all the tears in my eyes because I knew it was ending. I no longer have a neutral relationship with any of the songs you used for the section titles, especially "Don't Dream It's Over" because god if that didn't just get at the root of everything I felt about the fact that your fic existed. I miss your versions of Ed and Stede terribly and it's gonna be a tall order for anyone but David Jenkins to make them half so indelible to me. I felt like I was watching actual people I loved sail away forever.
I started reading it around when it was halfway through I think? It shouldn't have immediately worked for me when I first started. I was burning out a bit on reunion fics and I thought of myself as someone who didn't love when fics had too many OCs and those OCs got a lot of time in the story, not to mention my strict no-WIP rule, but whatever made me read it must have been fate or something. That and the reflectiveness of the characters and the times the prose knocked me off my feet and the usually gutting historical interstitials (I still think about/am haunted by the Chopin one at least once a week) and the lines I took screenshots of to send to my therapist. It's so much greater than the sum of its parts, and fiction like that can change things about a person's preconceived notions and personal tastes forever.
If I tried to list the things about it that are going to stay with me well, it would literally be easier for everyone if I just c/p the entire fic into this reply. It felt like such a journey that readers got to go on with both the characters and with the story on a like, metatextual level? It completely changed my relationship with high-quality WIPs. Now that I'm writing my first longfics I'm thinking about character and framing devices and POV voice in entirely new ways because I was fortunate enough to get the chance to read it. It's criminal that it's not in the top 5 most read fics in the fandom and I will not stop recommending it until that happens.
Even if you're not happy with the ending I think your readers are. This reader certainly is. And if you did want to go back and change it someday I have zero doubts that I'll be happy with that too. The fandom is richer for having your work in it.
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labarboteuse · 2 years
Text
Punishment
Pairing: Ron "Slider" Kerner x f!reader (no use of Y/N)
Summary: She's trying to punish him for not having told her something, he's gonna punish her for her attitude.
Warnings: MINOR DNI, daddy kink, oral sex receiving for him, spanking, dominant - submissive, me being a simp for Slider? I plead guilty your honor.
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Plunged in her book she didn’t raise her eyes when the mattress sagged next to her and that an arm came to slip on her belly followed by a brown head, one of her hands which held the book came to slip in his hair.
"Hey you, how was your day?"
"I missed you." Ron replied in a muffled sound against her shirt. "Did you already take a shower?" He asked hoping that it wasn't the case.
"I did." He grumbled and straightened his head just to look at her over her book. "You could have waited for me."
She looked up at him over the book.
"You're a big boy, since when do you need me to take a shower?"
His mischievous look and smirk gave her the answer to her question, making her roll her eyes.
"Someone's horny tonight." She muttered, returning her attention to her reading.
"Always when I see you." He lowered the book and dove toward her to crush his lips on hers, which made her laugh and she pushed him away without really any great conviction.
"You stink Slider."
"Okay okay, I leave, but don't get too comfortable, I'm not finished with you yet." 
The bed creaked when he got up to go to the bathroom and she looked up, biting her lip and wondering if the bed would need to be changed once again. The previous one hadn't withstood the daily and perhaps too energetic exercises of the couple, this one already announcing signs of weakness.  When Ron came out of the bathroom with a simple towel around his waist, she barely looked up from her book to devour him discreetly with her eyes. God he was beautifully cut, when he reached over the dresser to leave his watch there, a sudden wave of heat went up in her at the sight of his muscular forearm and his biceps sticking out. Clearly his muscular arms had always had a great effect on her.
"Enjoying the view?" He asked with a teasing tone.
Her eyes quickly returned to the page of her book, a hint of red coloring her cheeks, busted like a young teenager ogling the muscular high school
apollo.
"Don't dare to climb on the bed while you're still wet."
"Oh princess, there is someone else who's getting to be wet."
She rolled her eyes and threw her book at him, which he avoided with a laugh.
"I'm still mad at you Ron. Give me that book." She said raising her hand to him so he gives her the book she just has thrown.
"Oh you're showing it perfectly well." He laughed ironically, leaning over to get the book and move forward to her. "I said I was sorry."
"Don't care, you wouldn't have to apologize if you told me."
"Are you gonna be mad at me forever?"
"You should have told me what happened, you could have died out there!"
"And I'm alive! And I can show you how much I am by the way. 
"Ron."
"Baby."
"Give me that book."
"Please?"
"Please Ron give me that damn book." He was about to give it to her and when she was about to take it, pulled it away with a smile.
"Say it. You know how to correctly ask for something princess."
"You're really cheeky to pushing further that direction right now."
He leaned toward her, "Say it." he added in a breath.
She looked into his eyes, which she tried to be as hard as possible, and added in a dry tone, "Fine."
"I'm waiting darling."  The glint of mischief that constantly animated his gaze when he was with her shone in his eyes, he enjoyed pushing her to her limits.
"Daddy please, give me that book." 
"No princess, that's still sounds like an order. You know I can't accept that."
Her chest heaved with a deep breath, was she upset or was this having the desired effect?
"Daddy please, could you give me that book?"
"I rather prefer that tone." He then gave her the book which she took, less curtly than she would have liked, with a few words he had managed to make pudding out of her. Now he could have done whatever he wanted with her but she wouldn’t flinch. She had been scared to death by what had happened on his mission in the Pacific after his graduation. He could have died out there, and that event made her realize that he was going to put his life in constant danger. She would never have a peaceful mind when he would be left. But that wasn't what made her angry, it was the fact that he hadn't told her and that she had found out by chance, by talking to Wolfman and Hollywood's girlfriends. Even so, her anxiety had gotten the better of her anger and she couldn't give him what he deserved as well as she would have liked. She now needed most of all to feel him close to her, to have him hold her and reassure her that he was there, that he was okay, and to make love to her as if it had been the last time. She was incapable of being angry with him. Which he knew very well and was taking advantage of it.
"You should deserve to be on your knees for that attitude young lady."
"Yeah count on that." She mumbled before opening the book where she had left it and take back her reading.
"I really don't like that attitude of yours tonight princess."
"Ron, shut up, I'm trying to read, which is by the way far more interesting than you."
A growl sounded in the pilot's chest and without waiting any longer he snatched the book from her hands before tossing it to the other side of the bed.
"Hey!" She exclaimed in a protest.
"On your knees."
"Or what?" She replied challenging him.
"Don't make me say it twice."
"I'm not in a mood to play Ron." She said standing up from the bed determinate not to give him the task easy and to retrieve her book. He stopped her by grabbing her forearm and squeezing it, not too hard so as not to hurt her but just enough to make her understand that he wasn't playing.
"I said, on your knees." Her heart sped up and she vainly tried to keep a straight and assertive posture, her head cool so as not to show him the effect he was having on her by acting this way. And then without knowing why, she burst out laughing, which took him by surprise, and he frowned. "I'm not sure you're in a good position to laugh. You are just making your case worse."
"That's enough Ron." Perturbed by her reaction he unconsciously loosened his grip around her arm and she took the opportunity to extract herself and leave the room after retrieving her book. He stood up and followed her up the stairs.
"You know your efforts to show you don't want that are futile, you crave for it."
She rolled her eyes as she made her way to the living room, if he wouldn't let her read in their room she would stay in the couch. Knowing full well that it was utopian since he wasn't going to leave her alone. He caught up with her and pressed his torso against her back, one hand on her arm along her body, the other on her stomach.
"Everything in you is screaming for that. It's been days you fight against it, you think it's part of your so-called punishment? But you're dying for me to take you and make you scream my name. We both know that, and everything in you is calling for me. The way you walk in front of me, making dance your hips, the way you bend over to pick something you probably let dropped on purpose, the way you laugh with others to make me jealous, you think I didn't see it?" His whisper in her ear and his breath in her neck woke up butterflies in her stomach and she bit her lower lip trying not to fall right at his feet. "Really babe? Letting your lace panties drawer open just for me to see it? It's childish, but you know how well it works. So now you're gonna obey like the good daddy's girl you are and beg for me to spare your tiny ass." He placed a kiss in her neck and smile feeling how warm her skin was. "Say you're gonna."
"I will." Her voice softened, shit, how fucking right he was.
"I need more than that princess."
"I will beg for daddy not to wreck me."
"But will I listen?"
"No."
"Why won't I?"
"Because I truly want you to wreck me." 
"But still, you know how much I love to hear you beg." She nodded. "Now what did I ask you?"
She then knelt and put her hands flat on her thighs as how he taught her to be. Still behind her he caressed her hair and lean over her to leave a kiss on the top of her head.
"You know you'll be rewarded if you obey. I don't want to be hard on you, but something you don't give me any other choice."
She let him speak without adding anything, had she wanted to punish him for hiding what had happened during the mission? Of course she had. Had it worked for even a fraction of a second? Absolutely not. Was she going to be reluctant at what he was about to do? No way, she wanted it too much for that. Ron came to place himself in front of her and she raised her eyes looking at him through her eyelashes, he showed a satisfied smile. Without him having to say anything, she undid the knot of the towel that he always had on his waist and this one fell on the ground revealing all his excitement. She held back a smile and took him in hand, a sigh crossed his lips when he felt her warm hand wrap around him. His glance anchored in hers while she gratified him slow back and forth making him shiver. One of his hands slipped into her hair that he grabbed and she approached the face to take him between her lips, caressing his sensitive foreskin of her lips which tore him a groan, he contracted his thighs when he slipped entirely into her mouth, feeling her tongue on his length. Tightening his grip on her hair he pushed further into her throat making her cough as he began to tap in. Her second hand went to his thigh to grab onto something as he fucked her throat with vigor making her almost choke on his member. Closing his eyes he tilt the head back filled with a feeling of plenitude, slowing down its movements of pelvis, she took advantage of it to breath again. Embedding her nails in the skin of his thigh, taking him down a grunt, she literally impaled her throat on his cock activating to make him come. When he was on the point to pour himself in her throat he pulled firmly on her hair to tilt her head backwards.
"What does daddy's girl then."
She swallowed his seed as he filled her mouth, feeling the warm liquid flow down her throat.
"Such a good girl." He caressed her cheek with his thumb before reaching out to her to straighten up, she took it and stood up welcoming a passionate and fiery kiss from Ron whose one hand slid between her loins, the other finding its way back to her hair. Head back she closed her eyes as he buried his face in her neck to lay kisses and nibble her skin before sliding down her shoulder.
"Ronnie.." She moaned.
“Yes love."
"Fuck me."
Brushing her ear with the tip of his lips, his chuckle echoed in her ear.
"Daddy please fuck me." She whimpered. 
"Put your hands on the wall." 
She turned around and put the palms of her hands on the wall facing her and knowing what he was about to do, bend over a bit, while he took off her pants and her panties. Before she could say something, she felt his hand smashed on her butt, biting her lips trying not to escape a moan. She received another spanking and a small scream of pleasure came through her lips followed by a third one, no longer trying to hold it back.
She gasped when he spoke into her ear, not expecting him to be so close. "You're not supposed to enjoy your punishment princess.” He said amused before putting a kiss on her shoulder. "Do you want me to continue?" She nodded her head in response which stretched a smile on Ron's face. A fourth one, butterflies were felt in her stomach. Fifth one, a louder scream. Sixth one, she felt the blood in her clit making it grow with pleasure. Seventh, she couldn't wait no more.
"Ron please fuck me!" She beg making him chuckle.
Pressing himself against her he put his hands on her hips and slipped in her tearing her a moan of ecstasy tilting the head backwards, beginning with slow back and forth, so that she could feel him going and coming in her of all his length. He quickly accelerated the cadence, making resound in the room the sound of his skin to slap against hers. Nestling his face in her neck, which stifled his hoarse moans, he placed his hands on hers still on the wall. She felt him pressing in her back to penetrate her as deeply as possible, then she took off one of her hands of the wall to come to place it behind his nape of the neck as she could and he covered her arm and her wrist of kisses, wrist around which he rolled up his long fingers, his other hand always on hers on the wall sliding along her arm and coming to slip on her belly, tightening her, desperate to feel her against him. Hearing her moan his name increased his pleasure tenfold, when he felt her legs start to shake he knew that she was not far from the orgasm, then he tightened his embrace around her waist and kissed her behind the ear.
"Marry me." He whispered in her ear making her wide open her eyes in shock.
"Tha-That's unexpected." She blew between two moans.
"I think it's a very original way to propose." He chuckled getting deeper inside her to finally break her, filling the room with her yelling drowning with him into a powerful orgasm. "Should I take that for a yes?" He laughed, she trying to find her breath.
"No more secret."
"No more secret." He replied tightening her in his arms and kissing her cheek.
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burning-peanut · 11 months
Text
🚬 Getting High (On Feelings)
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Words: 3,454 Chapters: 1/1
[Travis Hackett/Laura Kearney] [Dru9 Use] [Smoking] [Fluff] [Travis gets teased a little] [but he can handle it] [Pre-Relationship] [Touching] [Kissing] [Teasing]
» Travis and Laura share a very special bond. And she knows she can twist him around her finger if she wants to. What she didn't know is how much he's enjoying it.
Laura knocked softly on the door to his office, which was already half-open. Travis was so absorbed in the paperwork he had in front of him that she feared she might startle him by just entering his office. It wouldn't have been the first time this happened, so she approached slowly. 
His head peered briefly, a light smile illuminating his face. He pointed a hand to one of the empty chairs in front of him.
"Come on in. I need another ten minutes. I have to finish this accident report today, but after that we can leave."
The friendship the two had built over the past nine months was a completely new experience for both Laura and Travis. It was gradual at first, steadily forming a strong foundation the more they interacted with each other. They understood each other in a deeper way. One would assume that the unfortunate events had built a bond between the pair, magnetizing them into a deeper connection.
It wasn’t the first time Laura came to his office after she got off her shift herself. In fact, it has become some kind of ritual between them by now. Whenever their shifts happened to coincide and they got off work at the same time, they would arrange to meet again. Usually they'd grab a bite to eat at the diner before taking long walks through the Hackett Woods.
That's what they both enjoyed best with each other. Talking for hours. Often enough, Laura did the talking and Travis the conscientious listening, but every once in a while he would come out of his shell and give Laura rare glimpses of his childhood or the time before the curse. In these conversations, they not only talked about the events of that traumatic summer when Laura had made herself forever immortalized into the skin on his arm. They also talked about Laura's graduation and her work at the clinic, Travis' work, or gossip from around town. 
Laura walked toward the chair and slumped into it, exhausted, before signaling with a theatrical groan how terribly stressful her day had been. 
"Your day couldn't have been worse than mine," Travis stated dryly, without lifting his eyes. He had a form in front of him, the previously blank page he was filling out with a pen. 
"Did any of your patients die off, too, and you got scratched and accidentally slipped in Cat's pee?"
Travis lifted his head and paused for a moment. His gaze sought hers inquiringly. "What patient?" he asked, gripped.
"Charly, the older Great Dane. The old guy's little heart was too weak for surgery after all, I'm afraid. He didn't even wake up again."
Travis exhaled audibly through his nose before looking at her compassionately. "Oh man, I'm sorry to hear that."
She gave him a brief smile before her gaze wandered over his completely cluttered desk. In the chaos, she could make out quite a few things lying around on that desk: dozens of stacks of papers, files, and other documents, two rolls of barricade tape, two driver's licenses, a bag of marijuana, a-!
Wait, what?!
Laura couldn't believe her eyes. At the end of his desk was a small bag of weed. Her gaze alternated from Travis to the bag—back and forth—but his attention was fully focused on the form in front of him. 
It took Laura only a fraction of a moment before she decided what she was going to do.
"Is that weed?"
"Yes." said Travis again, without lifting his gaze from the piece of paper. "Took it from two teenagers just before the end of my shift."
"How much is it?"
Now the cop looked from his note over to the small clear bag lying next to him. "I don't know, 15 grams? I still have to register it and weigh it. Haven't gotten around to it yet because this shitty accident report-" 
Laura had no patience to hear anything else about his stupid accident report. She cheekily interrupted him. "So no one would notice if a few grams were missing?"
"Very funny." he said dryly, turning his eyes back to the document in front of him. But when Laura didn't answer, he obviously understood what she was up to. He raised his eyes and looked at her sullenly. 
"Keep your hands off that evidence, Miss Kearney. I mean it." 
"Of course, Sheriff." she said, raising her hands defensively before slowly standing up and walking around him. She stood behind him and rested her hands on his shoulders before leaning on him slightly. "By the way, do you still smoke?"
"No." he said as he turned the document over and began filling in the next page. 
Laura leaned down and opened the top drawer of his desk with a quick flick of her wrist. Revealed were a half-full pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
Travis paused for a moment and looked at the pack of cigarettes before continuing to write. "Damn," he whispered before justifying her discovery. "Only once in a while now, when I'm stressed or my deputies drive me up the wall."
"But not regularly?"
"No."
"Smoking is so harmful, Travis."
"I know, Laura."
She reached into the drawer and pulled out the lighter before closing it again. 
His lips turn sour in a frown while he kept glancing at her. "Put it back."
"Why, you don't need it regularly."
"Laura-" Travis whirled around in his desk chair to face her and grabbed her hand while looking at her with the typical, badass Sheriff-Travis-Hackett-Look© . "I know exactly what you're up to."
"Oh yeah, Sherlock? What are you doing to stop me?" with a slight flick of her wrist, she shook off his hand with which he had been holding onto her. 
She knew he had trouble touching her, let alone grabbing her. It had been very difficult for him to even get close to Laura for a very long time. He had explained to her once that it had something to do with her being imprisoned by him, and it was a milestone in their friendship that they had reached not too long ago that he could touch her without freaking out.
But he would never hold her or touch her roughly. He couldn't do it, and she knew it.  
Slowly she walked over, to the end of his desk, and stood beside it. 
"Laura." he said in a threatening undertone. But he did not move. He didn't come after her, but looked at her as if transfixed, while a filthy, wicked smile played around her lips, making her eyes light up in that typical way that Travis knew better than he probably liked. 
"What sheriff? What are you going to do? Lock me up? Again?"
"...Laura." His deep, firm voice made the subliminal warning come through clearly. It was his last warning, she was aware of that. Also, Laura didn't even think about stoping now. She grabbed the small bag and just as Travis jumped up from his chair and darted over to her, she ran around the desk to the other side. 
They were facing each other now—Travis on one side of the solid wooden furniture, and Laura on the other. Suddenly, she felt like she knew how a deer must feel, spotted on the hunt by Travis Hackett. His look was determined. The slow but powerful rhythm of his chest rising and falling as his eyes fixed on her—like a hunter focusing on his prey—sent a tingle up her spine. He stared at her as if he attempted to bring her to him just by the power of his thoughts alone. As if he was trying to hypnotize her. Along with the silent, slow breaths that raised and lowered his chest. It rose and fell, rose and fell. For a few seconds, his steady breaths were the only noise in the room.  
Somehow the whole situation was strangely funny to Laura, so she laughed. He didn't. 
"I'll say it one last time, young lady. Put the bag down."
Continue reading on [AO3]
Thanks for interacting with my stuff, sharing or leaving kudos and likes. It means the world to me 😊🤍
@hackearneyarchive
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vampireacademysims · 6 months
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Well, I guess it's time to address the situation... or the lack of situation lol This is gonna be long, be warned. There's a TL;RD at the end if you wanna skip the wall of text. To start, thank you to the two anons who took the time to read the comic and prod me about it and the new people who started following this tumblr in spite of the Hiatus warning. Altho this place has been collecting dust for more than a year now, I'm still around, updating my side reblogs tumblr, so it's not like I dropped from the face of the earth.
The truth is, at this moment in time, I've feel out of love with making this comic. It was always a lot of work due to me being a perfectionist. I never used any extra rendering apps, all you've seen here is raw sims images and a lot of work on Photoshop, so much so it gave me a muscle contracture on my right shoulder (because I did all my work in bed with my laptop/drawing tablet in my lap. I never said I was a smart person lol) that still flares up from time to time because I learned nothing. Then the VA fandom was already quite small by the time I started doing this in 2015 and I never really advertised this in the fandom anyway. I always got the impression most of the fandom didn't like the OG comics as it was and most of the people that followed the comic were sims 2 fans because, well, it's made with the sims and the images were pretty (forever holding in my heart the people you said this &lt;;3) The recent "Vampire Academy" TV series (it was just in names, honestly) was the final nail in the coffin of my motivation. After information had leaked I was already disappointed in it, but after actually watching it, yeah no. Only plus to it was the surprise to see it was partially filmed in my country, in places where I have been myself. And lastly, and probably most importantly, I struggle with motivation a lot. It happens to us all, I am sure. It's no secret that I hated to panel, if I'd start all over again I'd just post the big images like many of you telling stories are doing now, it'd be less of a stress for me, but alas, I can't change formats now. And I said many times I was doing it mostly for myself, because I did love the comics based on the books, but doing it for yourself only gets you so far until you get bored. And I got bored. I'm actually surprised my hyper-focus on it lasted for as long as it did. I haven't been to Photoshop for editing - I used to make photomanipulations and other kinds of editing - for way over a year, so it's not only the comic that stopped.
I still have 7 pages to end chapter 6 in various degrees of editing, Veninorchid and Esotheria-sims have seen them, so they exist lol I will eventually finish editing them - it's mostly a Romitri flashback - and post them. But after that, I will have to decide how to proceed. Spending less time editing would help, but lowering the quality of my pages, the only thing people like about it, really doesn't sit well with me, because yeah, perfectionist.
So at the very least the remaining pages will be posted in early 2024, I might go back to it slowly, a little bit everyday so I don't burn out or put stress on my shoulder. But after that, it's up in the air. It's not like I've been staring at the walls during this time, I had other things taking my goldfish-like attention. I got interested in home bookbinding, which made me dig out old unfinished stories I once started and I've been trying to finish them and later try to bind them, because why the fuck not lol And on my reblogs tumblr I had this set of pictures about a Regency little story that people really loved and I'd like to add to it, but then again, all the editing it'd need *cries* I feel tugged in so many directions I fear I'll end up doing nothing lol
So the TL;DR is, I got bored with the comic because it was too much work and resulted in physical pain, I lacked the motivation and other things got my attention meanwhile. Chapter 6 will be be finished eventually, but after that it's up in the air. Cross my fingers that I get my mojo back while editing those pages. Still, a thank you to all of followed and are still following, sorry these were not the good news you wanted to read just because I made a post. You support up until now was what kept me going in the past, I can't thank you all enough.
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rainpudding · 2 years
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CATCHING AYATO AND LUMINE CHEATING pt.3
masterlist  
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AYATO
You weren't naive, you knew this would happen eventually. You guess that you just hoped he would be at least able to hide it well, so it wouldn't cause you as much pain.Every time Ayato left "for work" it left a scar on your heart. Every time he came back with messy hair and clothes saying "he was hurrying back home" it felt like needles stabbed through your heart.
Having forced marriage is never easy for both sides, when your father pushed you towards Ayato who wore a bored expression and a ring on his hand, you knew he didn't feel a bit of love for you. You knew he would find a secret lover eventually.
"Love, today is another work meeting, I'm afraid I will have to leave you here," he spoke, he didn't even waste a second to look at you or at least give you a small smile. "Again? Seems like you have been very busy lately," you say innocently with a smirk, you don't even turn to him to see him, you're just standing in the garden carrying the beautiful flowers with your soft hands.    
     You could feel how your statement made him swell in anger but he took a deep breath," I truly I'm, well seems like it's time to go," he put a coat over himself closing the door behind him with a loud bang. You waited a few seconds before figuring it was time to go. At first, you wanted to confront Ayato, and tell him how much his constant cheating on you hurt. Then you thought about running away. But when you saw Yae, as she was introducing her newly printed novels you got a new idea.
"Thoma, do you have the camera ready?" You asked as two maidens helped you get into a warm coat. "Of course sir/my lady," he bowed a little handing you a camera.    You thanked him as you walked out of your home, following in Ayato's tracks you stopped by a much smaller house. Walking around you found a window to the bedroom that wasn't covered by curtains. You snapped a few pictures, later with much elegance leaving.    
   "Oh good evening Y/n, what can I do for you," Yae laughed, her hand covering her mouth. "Would it be possible to print these with the new newspaper edition?" you laid some of the photos on a wooden table. Yae smiled devilishly taking it and watching it with great interest," I see," she muttered.    "Akido, print these photos in the newest Monday newspapers," she handed him the photos, Akido quickly covered his eyes "with censor or not?" At first, you wanted to say with, but you realized that the more Ayato's reputation is ruined the better. "Without will do just fine," you spoke thanking Yae.
The next day you Ayato and Ayaka sat at the table, enjoying the breakfast when Thoma suddenly entered. "Lady/sir Y/n, lady Ayaka, Sir Ayato," he bowed," the daily newspaper is here." When you saw Thoma's red face and Ayato's naive smile you nearly couldn't hold your laugh. Ayato took the newspaper listing through it before stopping on one particular page, his face went red as he gripped the paper strongly. 
"Something wrong darling?" You spoke with the most innocent voice you could put on. "Oh nothing just the vision Hunt decree," he smiled at you as he put the newspaper down, his hands shaking. The humiliation on his face will be now forever imprinted in your brain, and you don't even mind.
LUMINE
When Aether got corrupted and became the abyss prince, there was only one thing that kept you alive. That was a small hope that one day you will see Lumine again.       
 When Aether degraded you, and when he gave you punishments for tasks that you were unable to finish, you still smiled even how much you hated him. Even if tears stained your pretty cheeks. You still smiled, because you knew one day you will see your dear Lumine again and you will be free from this hell.
You didn't understand what did you do so wrong that now you saw a different face cling to Lumine. Were you not enough? Did Lumine never love you? Were you so delusional to think that Lumine would not find another s/o after years of you missing? 
          That day all your hope died in you, and when Aether stabbed Lumine and her new s/o you didn't even feel sad or guilty. You just gladly took Aether's hand and disappeared in the purplish fog.
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neverlearnedtoread · 6 months
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The Dragon Republic
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐; rin making bad decisions like they’re going on sale at the market, arms full of regrets, guilt, mistakes, and self-destructive coping mechanisms: i can fit in one more
Oh?? 👌😉😏
rf kuang gave us an unflinching exploration on the cycles of violence and oppression, dissected the ever-escalating chain of vengeance, and the good good of eastern-inspired mythology?? like ma’am.....the good food im eating at your feast.....ive been so hungry
the lore deserves its own point. it was so effortlessly woven into the story, especially the way it tied into certain characters’ backstories. i can’t say much more because spoilers but if you like integrated worldbuilding and you like chinese-inspired magic systems get over here!!
the friendships. namely rin 🤝 kitay. miss kuang you know what really matters, and its not 10398 handsome men, its one ride-or-die bff holding you back or yeeting you into the midst of battle as needed
grimdark, but not oppressively depressing? im not sure how to describe it..the story gives you enough adrenaline to power through with the sheer speed of reading to find out what happens next, but doesn’t pull its punches. i think its partly that rin herself ploughs through the narrative like she’s trying to outrun the events, giving the reader the momentum to move with her
No.. ❌🤢🤮
i took a screenshot when my friend and i were planning to do a buddy read together. the trigger warnings took up an entire page. do not screw around with this. there’s no shame in tapping out for any book, but especially this one
some characters die, and i specifically blame rin for it. i mean there were a lot of other factors, but in the spirit of the phoenix herself i am choosing to close my eyes to the rationality of working through my feelings of grief in a healthy way and plunge straight into being pissed off about it, forever. *wipes tear* just like rin taught me
did suffer from a bit of middle book syndrome, at least to me. i mean, i finished an 800~ page book in 8 hours of reading time, so maybe don’t believe me, but the first half of the book dragged more than i remember the poppy war did. i will admit a lot of that was because rin was in no position to be a rational, active protagonist. the narrative needed her to flounder, and she did.
Summary: Rin goes unhinged 2: water dragon boogaloo (ive tried and tried to write an actual summary for this book but i don’t think i can top this throwaway line i wrote as a placeholder)
Concept: 💭💭💭💭💭 Where to start? There are historical influences, commentary on social issues and the impact of violence on communities both physical and otherwise, the slow and terrible descent of a beaten-down protagonist. Basically a checklist of stuff I like exploring in high fantasy settings!
This is the second book in a trilogy - spoilers ahead!
Execution: 💥💥💥💥 Rin doesn’t like politics, and I think that made the narrative drag a lot initially as the moving parts tried to be interesting but through Rin’s jaded lens were stripped of their veneer. Kuang was more than ambitious with her sophomore book, and I know that she was open about struggling with the pacing of TDR while she was writing it - still, I think there’s more than something to be said about shooting for the stars! I didn’t think any part of the book dropped the ball, but the nature of all the heavy topics it was trying to handle became a hefty meal to swallow
Personal Enjoyment: ❤❤❤❤ Like I said, I read this book over 3-ish days in 8 hours. The library copy I had said it was 800 pages. I felt as powerful as Rin when I finished. The first half was a little dead in the water (which is a pun, yes, how many damn times did someone fall into the water and nearly drown in this book?? smh) but nothing I couldn’t handle with a little exasperation at Rin’s...*gestures* mental landscape. But when we reached the lore about Su Daji, and the Trifecta, and their chosen gods....i broke into a flat-out sprint. I was naruto-running through the plot.
Favourite Moment: it’s a battle to the death between the scenes with the trifecta backstories and the rin 🤝 kitay scenes
Favourite Character: chaghan, because i loved his backstory so, so, so much....also I didn’t know that handholding scene in the mountains was like. canon. and not fanon. rin really looked homosexuality in the eye and said ‘huh?’ with her whole chest.
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