#since i have been struggling to read anything outside of uni work in the last few years

[bbakashinji]

Is there anything more horrifying than an evil you cannot stop? Is there anything more soul crushing than doing anything you could with the tools you had, and still not be able to prevent tragedy? To see that the one thing that could have maybe changed the course of events arrived too late?

I think today's entries were so powerful because while yes, we are talking about a literal vampire, I think we are all familiar with some kind of violent and destructive force, and we are all familiar with feeling powerless in the face of it

Man, I need to lie down

[erodasfishtacos]

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k 

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow. 

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek. 

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison  to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.” 

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.” 

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all. 

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

**

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.” 

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound. 

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

[omoi-no-hoka]

Hello! I'm sorry if this has been asked before, but how do you become proficient at handling conversations in Japanese/handling grammar very well? I read your post on the JLPT, and it addressed issues I have been tip toe-ing around--indeed, passive actions such as listening or reading are easier than the active ones. How did you go about that? Did you write a bunch of sentences daily? Did you have a conversation partner? What would you rec. to someone who lives outside Japan? Thank you!

This is an excellent question, and one that I get asked a lot irl by Japanese people in particular. Let’s talk about gaining fluency and the ways we can go about it!

How to Gain Fluency in Japanese (and Other Languages)

Speaking Fluency versus Accuracy

Language proficiency is divided into two separate categories:

Fluency: Although there are no widely agreed-upon definitions or measures of language fluency, someone is typically said to be fluent if their use of the language appears fluid, or natural, coherent, and easy as opposed to slow, halting use. In other words, fluency is often described as the ability to produce language on demand and be understood.

Accuracy: Correctness of language use, especially grammatical correctness and word choice.

By the above definitions, a “fluent” speaker may make grammatical mistakes, but they can speak without having to stop and think too much about conjugations, word choice, etc.

An “accurate” speaker can speak with nearly zero grammatical/word choice mistakes. However, the speed of their utterances isn’t generally taken into account, so it could take an “accurate” person twice as long to articulate the same idea as a “fluent” person. 

Ideally, you need to strike a good balance between these two qualities when speaking. I have a boss, God bless him, who is 100% fluency and 0% accuracy and…man is it hard to understand what he’s saying sometimes, but he can generally get his point across just barely. I have another coworker who is 100% accuracy and takes about 3 minutes to form a sentence because he wants it to be perfect. 

How to Increase Speaking/Writing Accuracy

First, let’s talk about the easiest thing to improve, which is accuracy. It’s also (in my opinion) the least fun thing to improve, because it means grammar books and vocabulary memorization. 

You can only use a language accurately if you know what is correct and what is incorrect, and you can only learn that by studying grammar and vocabulary (or if you’re a native speaker and picked it up innately, you lucky bastard).

So here’s some things you can do to increase your accuracy:

For example, if you’re having a hard time using the passive, you need to review that part of your textbook and find some exercises to drill it into your head. 

Say the correct thing aloud. Lots. Sometimes I just walk around my apartment and narrate everything I see/do like a crazy person, but that’s good practice. 

Write example sentences using the grammar you’re struggling with and say them aloud too. 

There’s a bunch of cool apps that connect you with native speakers that can help correct you too! I used to use HelloTalk, I think. 

If you’re a creative soul, when I was studying for the JLPT, I took 1 grammar point and 5 vocabulary words from my JLPT study books and used them to write a 2-page short story about the adventures of ネギ, a stray black cat that smelled like green onions because she napped in an onion field. Then I had a Japanese friend check it over for me and mark mistakes. I hand-wrote them to improve my abysmal handwriting at the same time. It was really fun! I sometimes think about doing it again just for funsies.

When someone corrects you, don’t feel like your entire life is over and you’re a failure and you’ll never get it right haha. I’ve seen people fall into that hopeless mindset, and that’s just nonsense. It’s a good opportunity for learning and nothing more! Say the correct thing you’ve just been taught out loud, then write it down if you can. And, if possible, find a chance to use it in conversation asap.

How to Increase Speaking/Writing Fluency

Now this is the hard one. Especially for those learners who do not have native speakers nearby. 

I’m going to be dead honest with you. I started formally studying Japanese at uni, and I had a Japanese roommate/best friend since year one. I had a 4.0 GPA in my Japanese classes (and only my Japanese classes lol) because I was and still am a MEGA NERD about it. 

...But it wasn’t until I studied abroad in Japan my 4th year of uni that I gained fluency. 

There are a lot of things that can hold us back from fluency. An interesting thing I’ve noted is that Foreign Language is perhaps the only subject in which a student’s personality can directly affect their progress. To gain fluency, you have to go forth and speak, but if you are naturally a shy person, that is going to hinder you. If you are the kind of person who takes mistakes/failures poorly, you will be less likely to take risks and try to say harder sentences. In contrast, you can get full marks in math regardless of the above personality traits. 

I’m not saying that you have to be an outgoing explosion of a human being in order to gain fluency. But what I am saying is that you have to be willing to seek out conversations, and you have to be willing to take chances. Get out of your comfort zone. Use that new word you picked up the other day. Try to explain something that is difficult for you. 

My problem was that, while I lived with a native speaker who would have happily taught me anything I asked, her English proficiency was much higher than my Japanese proficiency. And when I struggled to say something in Japanese, I’d fall back onto English. And when she told me something I didn’t understand in Japanese, she’d repeat it in English instead of Japanese, because that was easier for us both. The same thing happened when I was in Japanese class as well. I always had the assurance that I could fall back on English.

But when I elected to study abroad in Japan for 3 months, I knew that this was my big chance. So on the host family form in the “other requests” area, I wrote that I specifically wanted a host family that could not speak English. I was setting fire to my crutches, and I was scared but excited to see them burn. 

By the end of my three months in Japan, I had gone from “Chotto matte kudasai” and needing a minute to form my reply, to “Okay, yeah I see that movie too and I liked the action scenes, but I didn’t care for the story little.” (I’ve underlined mistakes that I would have made in Japanese, to show you that I sacrificed some accuracy to obtain higher fluency.)

So, in short, the easiest and quickest way to increase your spoken fluency is to throw away all the crutches you can and use the language as much as possible. Every single day. Even if you’re just having an imaginary conversation with yourself! And like I said, there are a bunch of cool apps that connect you with Japanese people who want to learn English and you can do language exchanges with them. I had a lot of fun with those in the past. 

As for increasing writing fluency...well. That’s a tough question with Japanese, because I can type Japanese at like 100 wpm, but my Japanese handwriting fluency is at a 10/100. I can read and type at the level of a native Japanese high school student, but I can only write the kanji that 7 year old can write. That’s no exaggeration.

The big reason for that dichotomy is that my work is paper-free. 100% of my work is done on screen, so about the only time I have to write out something is when I’m filling out a form, which includes my name (katakana), address, and maybe occupation. 

If you want to increase your Japanese handwriting speed, just keep on writing. Write those little short stories about ネギ like I did, or find some writing prompts (I just started a side-blog with writing prompts yesterday btw) or keep a little diary. Make opportunities to write. 

How to Have Nice Handwriting in Japanese

Okay, full disclaimer: I am the absolute LAST person qualified to talk about this, because I have awful handwriting in Japanese. 

Unless you have prior experience with a different language that uses kanji, or you lack the keen eye of an artist, you will likely struggle to develop neat handwriting. 

Personally, I really like using this app called Japanese Kanji Sensei. It’s on Android (not sure about iOS), and if you pay just a few bucks you can make your own kanji sets and stuff. Anyways, it will show you how to write the characters prettily. It gives you a good frame of reference for what nice, pencil/pen-written characters (versus calligraphy characters). It has hiragana and katakana on it too!

I get a stylus and write out the characters on this app for the muscle memory, so my hands remember the sensation of writing a certain character. (The muscle memory is different if you only use your fingertip.) This muscle memory and repetition is how Japanese people learn how to internalize kanji as well. I really enjoy and recommend this app. I’m sure that there are others out there like it too.

Summary

TL;DR: Review your textbooks, take risks, use every resource available or make your own, and just have fun with it! 💗

[briyourmotherdown]

Give It All For You, Part 1 (Brian May x Fem!reader)

Word Count: 10.45k 

Warnings: Strong language (I’m British, it’s to be expected), slight innuendos???, possible historical inaccuracy, ANGST. 

Description: You have loved Brian May since the first time you met him. Trouble is, he’s nearly impossible to tie down, and you’ve become cemented in the role of the best friend. 

A/N: Okay so I’ve been working on this little mini-series for months. Literally too long. It’s still not even done, BUT I wanted to get the first part out at leAST. Uni and life have made finding creative inspiration a major struggle as of late. I think there will probably be around 3 parts to this?? I’m not quite sure yet, it could be a couple more if I find the motivation. BUT ANYWAY I really hope you enjoy it even though it’s angsty and I can’t write ajdgsdbskjbkdhgs. 

Spring, 1977

 “C’mon,” you slur,  your red dress shimmering in the dim lights of the local pub, “dance with me.”

  The bass is heavy in your chest and you feel alcohol coursing through your veins, but you’re only intoxicated by the man in front of you. His eyes glimmer like stars, hooded, sizing you up before shaking his head with a laugh.

  “You’re drunk.”

 “So are you.” you push yourself further into him in an attempt to push him onto the dancefloor, but more of a reason for you to get closer to him, to feel him.

  “But you’re plastered.”

 You roll your eyes, “Isn’t that the whole point?”

 He rolls his eyes right back, wrapping his arm around your waist to steady you, “Fine, one dance.”

  His hazel eyes are hooded, focussed solely on you, and you bask in his gaze. His hands on your body send electric shocks over your skin, and you tell yourself over and over that he doesn’t feel the same; he is only your good friend. That’s all you will ever be to him.

 “Is that how you ask a lady to dance?” you tease, cocking a brow.

 “You asked me!” Brian laughs, amused, “Alright, m’lady, may I have this dance?”

 He holds his hand out to you, dipping his head like a gentleman, and you take a moment to take a mental snapshot before accepting his hand, tugging him into the centre of the pub to dance.

  So you both danced, and for that night, just for that night with his hands on your hips, you could almost pretend that he was yours. And as he stared into your eyes, you let yourself fall into that false sense of security of imagined love.

   But let’s start from the beginning, from the moment you met on a cold winter’s night in 1972...

  “Christ, it’s cold as a witch’s tit in here,”

  Your best friend, Freddie, shivers as he hops up and down to warm himself up, scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and jaw,

  “Why did you want to open up the stall today, of all days? Even that old git Brutus has closed up shop.”

  You roll your eyes at his dramatics, shuffling the secondhand clothes on their hangers, “I need the money, that’s why. I’m about to be homeless if I can’t pay my rent.”

  Freddie hums, kicking a stray pebble on the floor, “You know, my friend has a spare room in his flat he’s trying to fill. He needs some extra money too. I’m sure he’d offer you the room for cheap.”

  “Which friend?”

  “His name is Brian, Brian May.”

  “Ah,” you wave your hand in recognition, remembering his name being brought up a few times, “the guitarist one, yeah?”

  “That’d be the one! I think you’d like him, actually-”

  “Like who?” your other friend and coworker, this one much more blonde, chimes in as he strides into the small stall, very much late. Roger.

  “Brian.” Freddie answers.

 “Oh yeah, she’d definitely like him.”

  You shoot them both a look, “And what makes you say that?”

  Roger holds up a fringed kimono up to himself in the mirror, “He’s quiet, reads a lot, likes the stars; basically a total nerd. You’d love him.”

  “And he always wears matching socks. It’s bizarre, he literally has a thing about matching socks.” Freddie adds.

  You chuckle, “And when will I get to meet this nerd?”

 “Well, tonight. We have a gig.”

 “Hm,” you pretend to think, “I’ll have to clear a few things from my schedule…”

  Roger nudges you with his shoulder, knocking you slightly off balance,

 “Alright, alright! I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Later that evening you meet your friends at the pub where they're playing for the night. It’s a dingy dive that you never would usually go, but you’d do anything to support your friends on their journey to success.

  You’re dressed up all pretty in your flares and platforms, leaning up against the bar as you wait for Queen’s set to begin. Though the weather outside is freezing, the inside of a pub is always hot, air thick with the scent of ale and sweat, but the moment Queen steps on stage, it’s easy to forget your surroundings. You’d heard Freddie sing, and you’d certainly heard Roger crash about on his drums, but you’d never seen them like this.

  They were magnetic. You were all absorbed. Freddie’s outfit caught the light each time he flounced across the stage, but his voice was what captured everyones attention. He was full of passion and power; he owned the audience, he could control everyone with one simple snap of his fingers.

  Roger was his usual self, exuding sex-appeal and confidence. Girls fawned over his long blonde locks and plushy lips. The thing about Roger was that he was the total package of beauty and intelligence, that is if you could tie him down.

  You’d never met the bassist, John, you think his name was, but he managed to capture your attention in the most unsuspecting way. He was all shyness and modesty, but not radiating an ounce of hesitancy. You can tell, even at first glance, that he would be the perfect fit for Queen. He would bring balance.

 That leaves one final member, the oh-so nerdy space loving boy who Freddie and Roger believe you would adore. But he doesn’t look so nerdy when you see him. He’s pure mystery, almost as though he’s surrounded by a navy blue mist, an aura- or something ethereal. He’s breathtaking, is all you can think. Long legs adorned in velvet, dark curls fall in front of his eyes as he looks down at his guitar. He’s focussed, bottom lip jutting out in concentration, but he takes a moment to glance up. That’s when you know you’re done for. He scans the pub, small enough to make out everyone’s face, and his eyes land on yours. It’s fleeting, but you can swear they linger. Maybe that’s just what you want to tell yourself. Suddenly you want to feel his eyes on you all the time. You want to be in his daydreams, in his thoughts, you want to be his muse.

  You float through the rest of their set, eyes glued to Brian as he plays expertly. You sway to each song, ignoring your surroundings and focussing solely on the music, and when it’s over, you cheer as loudly as you can.

  “I want to have your children, Roger!” you scream, bursting into a fit of giggles as the blonde scans over the room to see the source of the scream, and upon seeing you, chucks up his middle finger with a laugh.

  You make your way to the small stage, well, it’s more of a two feet high platform, and open your arms up widely to Freddie.

  “You,” you tackle him into a hug, “were fucking incredible! You’ve been hiding this side of yourself from me for how long?”

  He blushes, returning to the Freddie you know, “You must have brought it out of me, love,” he turns to the rest of the band, “Y/N, this is John Deacon, isn’t he lovely?”

 Freddie gestures to the bassist as he smiles shyly, offering you a wave and a small, “Hello.”

  “You were amazing out there, seriously!” you compliment him, and he blushes, though his smile widens.

  “Now, darling, this is Brian May!”

  Upon hearing his name, Brian looks up from where he is putting away his guitar, standing up straight and brushing his hands off against his trousers.

  “Brian, this is Y/N, she hangs around Roger and I sometimes.” Freddie shoots you a playful wink as you roll your eyes.

  “Hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you.” you reach a hand out to shake, which you so usually wouldn’t do, and it sends embarrassment right through you. But to your luck, he takes his hand in yours with no hesitation.

  “Likewise,” he smiles, still shaking your hand, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  Oh God.

  “All good things I hope?” you realise you’re still holding his hand and let go, letting your hand sit awkwardly at your side.

  Jesus, you’re so nervous.

  “Mostly.” He winks, and it sends you reeling. His eyes are dangerous, and they travel up and down your figure in a way that sets you alight.

  It goes quiet as you stare at each other, Freddie glancing between you two with his eyebrows raised. Though he says nothing about it. Instead, he claps his hands,

  “I don’t know about anyone else, but I need a drink!”

  1977

  The next morning, you suffer through your pounding headache, wanting to just wallow in your loneliness.  

  Of course, Brian went home with someone else last night, sneaking away through the back door to avoid flashing cameras and prying eyes, leaving you to call yourself a taxi back home, where you cried for an hour before passing out.

  It’s not the first time he’s done this, but it still makes you feel pathetic every time.

  There’s a knock on your door, and you heave yourself out of bed despite the spinning in your head and the nausea churning in your stomach. Whoever is at the door will just have to deal with your dishevelled appearance.

  “Y/N? Jesus, you look like hell.”

  Alas, the infamous Roger Taylor stands on your doorstep, mouth agape at your messy hair and leftover smudged makeup.

  “I’ll slam this fucking door in your face, Taylor.”

  “Hostile,” he laughs, hands up in mock surrender, “I’ve just come to pick you up for lunch, or have you forgotten?”

  Feeling like a total ass, you smack your hand to your forehead, “Shit, Rog, I’m so sorry. Come in.”

  He follows you into your flat, eyes scanning over the slight mess. He turns to you, concerned; you’re not usually one to let your flat get so messy.

 “We don’t have to go, Y/N, we can reschedule, it’s not a problem.”

 You scrunch up your face, searching the kitchen for a glass of water and ibuprofen,

 “No, no, I want to go, you’ll just have to bear with me.”

 “Long night?” He teases, leaning his elbows on the kitchen counter to stare at you.

  Shooting him a glare, you slide passed him and into your bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. Roger follows you,  leaning against the doorframe.

  “You know, I think you owe me an explanation as to why you forgot about our lunch date, and threatened me.”

  Clicking your tongue, you turn to him, “I went to a pub with Brian last night, got plastered, now I’m hungover. Simple as that.”

  He raises his eyebrows, almost knowingly, but doesn’t say anything.

“No need to be so sassy with me, I'm only asking.”

You sigh, “I know, I’m sorry,” he smiles, “now get out, I have to piss.”

You slam the door and hear him laugh from the other side, “What a lady!”

 “Bugger off!”

  Finally feeling human again after cleaning up and getting dressed, you slide a massive pair of dark sunglasses on the bridge of your nose and head out to where Roger parked his car.

  “Ready, princess?”

 You shoot him a sickly sweet smile, “You act as if being called princess bothers me.”

  Roger laughs, starting the engine and getting into gear, “You got me there.”

  The drive to your local favourite cafe is short, a totally walkable distance if you didn’t feel like death warmed up. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence until pulling into a parking space, when Roger turns to look at you once again. Your head is pressed against the window, eyes closed beneath your sunglasses, lips slightly parted as you take careful breaths to avoid nausea.

  “Christ, love, you really do look like shit,” he chuckles softly, a hint of concern laced in his insult, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  With one look at him, tears well up in your eyes against your will, threatening to spill over onto your cheeks. Roger’s eyes widen, and in an instant, you’re pulled into his arms over the console as you begin to cry. He shushes you softly, one hand running up and down your back,

  “Shh, it’s alright. It’s going to be alright,” you’re thankful for having such a good friend like Roger, especially when he puts up with your hungover mood swings. However, you must look like an absolute trainwreck with your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks, “Let’s go inside and get some food and a cup of tea down you, yeah? Then if you like, you can tell me what’s troubling you.”

  You nod, sniffling and wiping away your tears on the back of your hand. Roger jumps out of the car and rushes to the passenger side, where like an angel, he walks you into the cafe with a hand on your back.

  You attract a few disparaging stares when you both sit down at a table, a small chuckle slipping past your lips. Roger, now across from you, looks puzzled, “What’re you laughing about, hey?”

  “Everyone’s staring.”

  He scans the room indiscreetly, a smile taking over his features, “God, they are, aren’t they? Haven’t they ever seen a hungover girl crying before?”

  You scoff, “Bugger off, they’re obviously staring at your trainers.”

  He gasps, looking underneath the table to examine his sparkly pink converse, “What have you got against my trainers?”

  “Me? Nothing. But a bunch of elederly ladies out for lunch might. I’m sure they think your hair is a disgrace too. You should cut your hair like McCartney had it at the start of The Beatles.”

  Roger scoffs, pulling out a cigarette, “Yeah right. Been there, done that.”

  As Roger lights up a smoke, you look at the menu set out in front of you, deciding on something that won’t aggravate your fragile stomach. Then you proceed to give Roger puppy dog eyes until you persuade him to be the one to go up and order it.

  When he’s gone, you take a moment to think over what you and Roger must really look like to some people. Roger, all bleach blonde hair, brightly coloured clothing and a smirk that could make even a nun go mad. And you, puffy eyed, sunglasses indoors, in an oversized button-up shirt that you’d definitely stolen from one of the boys at some point. You both probably were the most exciting things that some of these people had seen in awhile. Something new to gossip about.

  A glass of water is set in front of you by the one and only roger, while he sips tenderly at a cup of sweet coffee, “Drink.” he commands.

  “But I ordered coffee,” you pout like a child, “You’re kicking me when I’m down here, Rog.”

  He rolls his eyes, “Coffee doesn’t help hangovers, love. Drink up.”

  You frown but nonetheless begin sipping in silence, tapping your nails against the table as Roger stares at you, “What?”

  “Just wondering if you’re going to tell me what got you so upset earlier?”

  You let out a sigh, long and weary, fiddling with an opened sugar packet, “Would you believe me if I said that it was just hormones?”

 “Not in the slightest.”

 You let out a short laugh through your nose, “I just let myself get heartbroken again, that’s all.”

  Roger pretends to choke on his coffee, spluttering dramatically and ignoring all the stares that he attracted, “Someone managed to break Y/N’s cold, dead, heart?”

  “If you were quiet for a moment you’d notice I’m not laughing.” You roll your eyes at him.

  Noticing your demeanour, he quiets down and leans in close to you, “I’m sorry, it’s just that you never let yourself get to the point of being able to be heartbroken,” he puts out his cigarette in the ashtray, “you know, you told me about a year ago that love doesn’t exist, and dating is just a trial period until you decide that maybe you can put up with that person for the rest of your life.”

   “I didn’t say that.”

  “You did, word for word.”

  You stay silent, but your top lip twitches into a smile- it does sound like something you’d say.

  “Anyway,” Roger continues, “who broke your heart? I’ll rough 'em up a bit.”

  “Surely you couldn’t rough up a member of your own band.” You speak under your breath, arms crossed, but Roger hears you.

  “I knew it!” He shouts, and you kick him underneath the table, “sorry,” he blushes, “I just knew it. I had a feeling you were in love with Brian.”

  Your eyes widen, “I’m not in love with him!”

 Roger smirks, “So it is Brian, then?”

 Your jaw drops at his trick, “You bloody asshole.”

  He sits back in his chair with a smug grin on his face, coffee cup in hand, “So, tell me about it.”

  You scoff, “You’re such a dick sometimes, you know that?”

  “You love me all the same.”

  You roll your eyes for the thousandth time, as you always seem to do around Roger. You stare at him, arms crossed in silent defiance and attempt to communicate with your eyes ‘I’m not going to tell you because you were a dick.’

  He sighs, uncrossing his arms to place his elbows on the table, “Come on, I’m sorry! Please tell me what happened?”

  A server comes over with your breakfast, allowing you to torture Roger for a few moments more as you chew a bite slowly. After you swallow, you finally sigh, “Fine. Ask me what you want to know.”

  Roger’s eyes light up, “How long have you loved-” he stops when you gives him the eye, “liked, him?”

  “Almost five years.”

  “Bloody hell, Y/N.”

  “I know! I know. It’s not good. Trust me I’ve tried to get over it.”

  “And you’ve never told him how you feel?”

  You scoff, “Of course not, that’s suicide.”

  “Why?”

  You put down your fork, finishing your mouthful of food, “You act like you haven’t seen the way Brian is,”

  Roger stays silent, waiting for you to continue, “He’s so…elusive. His shyness and sensitivity make him a real fucking magnet if you haven’t noticed. And he has this thing where he needs to constantly be pining after someone, and it’s just never been me.”

  You take a deep breath as your eyes focus on the rim of your glass, “He’s just not interested in me as more than his best friend, and I think that’s okay.”

  “Why do you think that’s okay?” Roger asks softly.

  “Because if I don’t accept that, then I won’t have Brian in my life at all. And that’s worse than the heartache.”

  Roger is silent, looking at you with sad eyes, but they don’t hold an ounce of pity. That’s something you love about him, he never pities you for feeling any sort of way, he’s just there to listen.

  “Well fuck, I can see why you got plastered last night.”

  You laugh, thankful for him shifting the mood to something more lighthearted.

  After lunch, Roger drops you off back at your flat, but not without a comforting pat on the top of your head and a promise to go for a drink soon.

  You smile to yourself as you fish your key out from your bag, twisting the lock and stepping inside.

  “Y/N.”

  You squeal, whipping around to see a lean figure standing up from your sofa, “Bloody fuck- Brian, what are you doing here?”

  Your heart beats rapidly in your chest, partly from being scared half to death, partly because Brian looks so good in a hoodie. He doesn’t often wear cosy clothes anymore since Queen gained more fame. Seeing him looking all soft in a navy blue hoodie makes your heart flutter. It reminds you of the times when you had first met. The both of you snuggled up underneath layers of blankets in his dingy flat when the heating broke (which was often), drinking copious amounts of tea and emptying his kitchen of all his food.

  “You gave me a key.” He scratches the back of his neck. Yeah, he knows he’s guilty.

 “I would have appreciated it if you’d rung me first.”

 Annoyance settles in as you remember last night, when he ditched you at the pub and left you to get a taxi home. If anything, he owes you the fare.

  “I did, you didn’t pick up and I got worried.”

  “I was out.”

  “I can see that now.”

   The room falls silent, Brian rocking back and forth on his heels. You cross your arms, waiting for him to speak. To explain himself.

  “Listen, I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have left you like that last night. I was drunk-”

  “So was I.”

  “I’m-” he stops, sighing, “I’m really, really sorry. I’m a total prick…” he fades off as if he’s lost in thought, bottom lip pulled between his teeth and eyes worried. He looks genuinely troubled, as if he is really upset that he ended up ditching you.

  Against your better judgment, you sigh and uncross your arms, voice softening up, “Look, just don’t do it again, okay? It puts me in a really bad spot.”

  His eyes brighten at your acceptance, rushing over to give you a hug. You stand stiff as a board when his arms wrap around you, head nestled against your neck. Your pulse races, but you know better than to view this in any other way than just a friendly hug. You wrap your arms around him anyway, closing your eyes and just for a moment, pretending it is otherwise.

  “I want to make it up to you,” his voice is muffled against your shoulder, but he doesn’t dare let go, “I packed us a picnic, let’s go to the park. You can feed the ducks.”

  You pause, eyes opening and closing as you take breaths. You battle against yourself. Could you manage doing such an activity with Brian? One that feels like a date? Of course you can. Don’t be silly. He’s your best friend, how could you be casting his feelings to the side because of your own?

  “Can I feed the pigeons too?”

  He laughs, gripping your frame tighter, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Then you’re back in his car, a newer one, different from the cheap beat up one he had when you had first met. But still, it’s familiar, the scent of him mixed with leather. A basket and a blanket sits in his backseat, bringing a small smile to your face. This is the side of Brian you cherish the most. The side of him that cares so deeply for his friends. You’re not even sure if you could call it a ‘side’ of him. It’s just the way he is. He doesn’t ever intend to hurt or upset you. Suddenly, you feel guilty for being upset with him. He doesn’t owe you anything, he has every right to go home with other women.

  “So, where did you go earlier?” Brian asks, one hand on the wheel as he glances over at you and then back at the road.

  “I went out for lunch with Roger,” you smile at his side profile, the way his hair moves against the breeze through his open window, the way his nose hooks ever so slightly, “he nursed my hangover.”

  Brian’s lips seem to flick into a frown, but shift back into a smile before you could really register it, “Seems as though I’ve been replaced.”

 You roll your eyes, “No one nurses my hangovers as well as you do, Bri, don’t worry.”

 You giggle fondly at the memories of the both of you nursing each other through your hangovers, Brian always better at dealing with them than you were. He’d be up bright and early, pop two ibuprofen, down a cup of coffee and be well on his way to recovery. Whereas you’d sleep until noon and be unbelievably moody until eventually someone forced you to do something with your day.

  Brain somehow always knew how to pull you out of those moods, though, whether it be bringing you a plate of pancakes and cracking stupid jokes until eventually you had no choice but to laugh, or by sitting with you in silence and pushing a glass of water and painkillers in your direction. He just always seemed to know exactly what you needed in the moment.

  “I’d hope not,” he tuts, “otherwise I’d have to find another hobby, and I quite like taking care of you.”

  Your breath catches, skin burning, but you play it off with a scoff, “You make me sound like a child.”

  He laughs, a bellowing laugh that you always love to hear, “A child? Certainly not. Children swear a hell of a lot less.”

  “Fuck off!” you swat his shoulder lightly but can’t help your grin. It feels good to fall back into the rhythm of normalcy with Brian.

  The sun is high when you reach the park, the sky a bright blue except for a few sparse clouds. The two of you walk silently to the pond, laying out the blanket on a soft patch of grass.

  “I know you already ate,” Brian says as he sits down on the blanket, “but I bought a packet of custard creams because I know you like them.”

  The small gesture makes you embarrassingly happy, grinning at him as he passes you the packet, “You can never be too full for biscuits, you know that.”

  “Very true,” he smiles at you almost in adoration, you think, “I also got a bag of bird seed because people still feed the ducks bloody bread.”

  You hum as you bite into a custard cream, staring into space as you get lost in thought. Spring weather in London is one of your favourites, when the sun shines just enough to warm your skin, but you still have to cosy up a bit. And today,  it’s the perfect temperature for a picnic.

  “Hey, so I was thinking,” Brian begins, opening up a sandwich for himself and taking a bite, “Since the band doesn’t have to start recording again for a bit, we should all go on a road trip somewhere.”

  You look over at him, eyebrows raised, “Where were you thinking?”

  “I don’t know,” he shrugs, “Wales maybe? I just thought a change of scenery might help us all write new songs.”

  Nodding your head slowly, your lips twitch up into a smile, “I’d love that. Have you mentioned it to the boys yet?”

  “Briefly, and they seemed to like the idea, but no plans have been made.”

  You hum, “Well, let’s set the date and they’ll just have to clear their schedules.”

  Brian laughs, “Alright, next thursday. We can stay until Monday.”

  “Perfect.”

  The two of you chat for a while longer, before packing up the basket and walking alongside the pond, throwing bird seed for the ducks and laughing as they all fight for the same pieces.

  It feels so idyllic, walking through the park with Brian. It seems to be all couples here today, holding hands or staring at each other with looks of adoration on their faces. It almost makes you feel queasy. Perhaps it’s just eating those custard creams right after eating lunch with Roger. Either way, your stomach twists and leaps with too many indescribable feelings. You wish it would stop.

  Brian tips the last bits of bird food out of it’s bag, before scrunching it up and putting it in his pocket. You both watch as the birds eat the remaining seed, before looking up at you for more. Once they realise there’s nothing else for them, they drift gracefully away, to the opposite side of the pond where someone else may feed them some more.

  Then you continue your stroll, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your faces and the crisp air in your lungs.

  But then Brian looks down at his watch, swearing underneath his breath and turning to face you, “Y/N, I’m so sorry but I’m going to have to cut this short.”

  Your eyebrows furrow into a frown, “Is everything alright?”

  You both begin to walk in the direction of his car, “Everything’s fine, I just forgot I have to meet someone in an hour.”

  Your stomach drops. Brian never usually says ‘someone’. His friends are your friends and you’d always refer to them by name. ‘Someone’ means someone you’ve never met, and almost always it means a girl.

  “Oh, okay,” you try to hide the disappointment in your voice, “that’s totally fine!” you force a wide smile.

  He grins back at you as you both get into his car, “I’ll make it up to you, love.”

  You return his smile, but deep down you know. He said that earlier, too.

  Soon you’re back at your flat, waving goodbye to Brian from your doorstep and letting your smile drop into a frown as he drives away.

  The clock reads 4 o’clock when you reach your bedroom, sighing deeply as you get changed into comfier clothes and slump down on your sofa with a cup of tea.

  God, it’s so tiring.

  The sun is still high outside, your favourite aspect of spring and summertime, the longer days, but tonight you almost wish it was late so that you could fall asleep and not have to think about Brian.

  But alas, he swirls around your brain as you stir your tea, looking down into the cup as it whirlpools. You wonder if Brian could be seeing the girl he went home with last night, or someone else. You don’t want to wonder, you’re not even sure if you actually want to know who it is. It would push you into the deep darkness of insecurity, and you’d compare every aspect of yourself to whomever it is.

  So instead, you flick the telly on and melt mindlessly into the arms of whatever is on, not even really focussing on it.

  Monday morning, you’re at work again, typing up documents all day as you’d usually be doing. The monotony could kill you, and your fingers hurt from the stiff keys of the typewriter. It’s times like these where you feel envious of your best friends’ profession- for the boys of Queen, monotony is never an issue. They can complain about recording studios all they want, but they would never dare to wish for your job, and they know that.

  You asked your boss early if you could get Thursday to Monday off, and by some sheer miracle he had agreed, but not without massaging your shoulders in a way that made your skin crawl. It was one of the biggest downsides about working in an office amongst mostly men. While they spent their days barely working, and instead drinking the day away together while playing mini golf in their offices, you worked until your fingers went numb and the back of your neck felt like it was being jabbed with fifty needles. Yet they still believed they were entitled to touching you whenever they liked.

  Either way, you had managed to get a few days off to go on a road trip with all of your best friends, and that’s what keeps you going throughout the week. You daydream about exploring castle ruins and walking along the beach with Brian, allowing yourself to dip your toes into the idea of a relationship. While you were confined within four blank office walls, the thought of Brian kept you sane.

  He phoned you two days after your picnic, confirming that the boys had all agreed to a road trip and booked a hotel for Thursday afternoon. Things were all going smoothly, even as you packed your bag on Wednesday evening in preparation to set off early the next morning. You float happily around your flat, humming along to your records and planning out outfits for the trip. When you fall into bed that night, you can barely wait for dawn to break.

  But as they always say, be careful what you wish for. Because when you step out onto your front steps on Thursday morning, bags in hand and a grin like the sun, you notice not one, but two cars. Brian’s and John’s. Your smile falters, you thought you were all squeezing into Brian’s car?

  “Y/N!” Freddie exclaims when he sees you, rushing to help with your bags and put them in the boot of Brian’s car, “God, I’ve missed you, darling!”

  You pull him into a tight embrace, “I’ve missed you too. You don’t have time for me anymore with all your wild parties.”

  He scoffs, “If only you’d attend them, lovie, then we’d see each other more!”

 You roll your eyes playfully and look around at the two cars. The driver’s seat of Brian’s car opens, a small but almost seemingly nervous smile on his face.

  “Hey, Y/N,” he scratches the back of his neck, “how are you?”

  You narrow your eyes, and you feel Freddie’s body language stiffen beside you as if he knows something you don’t.

  “I’m alright?” You reply as a question, curious to why everyone seems so nervous.

  “Good, good,” he nods, inhaling before saying, “You wouldn’t mind sitting in the back seat, would you? Natasha already took the passenger side.”

  Your lips part slightly, realisation setting in. He brought a girl.

  You turn to Freddie in silent shock, asking with your eyes what the hell is happening? He leans over to whisper quietly, “I offered to take your place and you sit with Rog and John, but Brian was adamant.”

 You gulp, turning back to where Brian stands, “Sure, that’s fine.”

 He grins, sitting back in the driver’s seat. You turn to Freddie, eyes like a deer in headlights. A five hour drive. With Brian and his possibly girlfriend. He pats your shoulder, giving you another hug before getting into John’s car.

  You have no choice but to slip into the backseat, sighing into the leather. The radio is already on, all the windows down to let in the cool early morning air. You glance to the front of the car where a woman sits in the passenger side. You can see her face in the wing mirror, insecurity eating away at you already as you examine her. She’s gorgeous, with thick auburn curls that frame a sharply defined face. You can even see that her eyes are a taunting shade of emerald green.

  Clearing your throat. You lean forward and hold your hand out, forcing a smile on your face, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

  She turns to glance at you, but not before giving you a once over, sharp lips not so much as twitching into a smile. She takes your hand into a weak handshake, shaking once before letting go and letting her hand rest back into her lap.

  “Natasha.” She says bluntly. You glance over to Brian as he drives, waiting for him to react in some sort of way at the way you’ve been greeted, but instead you’re met with his usual kind smile and eyes that gleam with blissful ignorance.

  You sniff awkwardly, leaning back into your seat and getting comfortable against the window. You can see Natasha staring at you in the wing mirror, but you try your best to ignore it. It practically sears your skin, making you squirm in your seat. You hated feeling intimidated by people, absolutely despised it, but Natasha was everything you weren’t. She had Brian. And the passenger seat.

  The radio fades into one of your favourite songs, one of Brian’s too, The Air That I Breathe by The Hollies. You’d often drive with the windows down, belting out the lyrics and laughing at who could sing the loudest. The memory brings a smile to your face.

  “I love this song, can you turn it up-”

  “God, I hate this song,” Natasha interrupts, “I didn’t even like it when it came out three years ago.”

  Brian looks torn, eyes flickering to you in the rearview mirror. You challenge his gaze, narrowing your eyes ever so slightly to gauge his next move. Your stomach sinks as he drops your gaze in guilt, flicking to the next station.

 The smug look on Natasha’s face just adds salt to your wound, her eyes like a snake’s, sly and dangerous. In that moment you decide that your best friend must be an absolute idiot. You also decide that you really, really don’t like Natasha.

  Five hours does not go by in a flash, much to your dismay, and you’ve had to listen to Brian gush over Natasha for the majority of the ride. Even when you all stopped halfway to get snacks, Brian came to your side when Natasha went to the bathroom, nudging your shoulder with a dopey smile on his face.

  “Isn’t she something?” He asks as you pull a few bags of crisps off of a shelf. You try your best to bite your tongue. After all, as long as Brian is happy, you’re happy.

  “She’s definitely something.” You reciprocate his smile, albeit forced.

  “I think you and her will be great friends.”

  You refrain from rolling your eyes. Even if you wanted that, Natasha made it very clear that she did not want anything of the sort. How could Brian be so unaware of the dynamic that took place between you and her? Are men really that thick? You can barely believe it. For someone as intelligent as Brian, he’s being incredibly dense.

  But regardless, you nod, “Totally.”

  Natasha steps out of the bathroom and makes her way over to where the two of you stand, completely ignoring your presence, “Let’s go to the car.”

  She grabs Brian’s arm, and before you can so much as complain, the food Brian had grabbed is dropped in your arms, leaving you alone to pay. Your eyes follow them as they leave, hand in hand as they laugh. They look good together, you can admit that. Two perfect people.

  You sigh, turning to glance around the small petrol station shop, shaking your head to yourself and going to pay for yours and Brian’s snacks.

  And then the remaining two hours or so blur by as you lean yourself against the window, blocking out the sound of Brian and Natasha’s conversations and simply watching the world pass you by. You try to think of the green grass, the blue morning sky, the yellow sunflower fields that you pass.

  Brian’s hand rests on her thigh and he looks at her with something like a sparkle in his eyes. Suddenly you wish you stayed home. Maybe if you’d caught a cold or your boss didn’t give you time off this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe then you wouldn’t feel like your heart is being torn out of your chest. Maybe then you could have ignored the fact that Brian has got a new woman in his life.

  Once you pull into the hotel car park behind the rest of Queen, you nearly jump out of the car, immediately taking your bags out of Brian’s car, “What’s the room situation?” you ask Roger when he steps out of John’s car.

  “Don’t get too excited,” Roger winks playfully, “Nah, we have our own rooms, apart from them.” he nods towards Brian.

  You lean in to give him a pathetic hug, leaning heavily on his shoulder as you quietly groan, “I don’t even have the energy to tell you to fuck off right now.”

  He laughs, gripping your shoulders tightly, “You look like you need a drink. Or a nap.”

  “Or both.” you retort.

  Brian and Natasha walk up to where you stand, Natasha plastering a fake smile on her face as she greets Roger, “Roger, I didn’t realise that Y/N was your latest fling, how sweet.”

  Roger tenses, as do you. Now she’s insulted both of you in one. But just as you’re about to speak your mind, Roger tightly wraps his arms around your shoulder, “Actually, Y/N’s my girl.”

  You glance up at him in shock, lips parted and eyes wide. You turn back to Natasha, noticing that Brian is staring at you with a look of shock on his face, maybe betrayal? You’re not sure, but he looks angry. His fist clenches at his side absentmindedly.

  And that makes you angry. Even if you were actually dating Roger, what does that have to do with him? So you decide to put a wide smile on your face, lifting your arms to hold Roger’s around your shoulders. You don’t speak, but your actions say it all. You giggle, melting into his embrace. It feels strange, but Roger and you are close enough to know that this is fine.

  Freddie and John walk over, looks of confusion on their faces, but decide to stay out of it when they see the looks on Natasha and Brian’s faces.

  “You’re seeing each other?” Brian asks incredulously, ignoring Natasha’s presence beside him.

  “That’s right,” Roger replies before you can, “Is that so hard to believe?”

 “Yes,” Natasha laughs, “It is.”

  Roger’s grip tightens around you. You recognise this side of him, the fierce protectiveness he feels over his friends. Roger has been known to get into fights if someone speaks badly about his friends. He simply won’t tolerate it.

  His actions are strictly platonic, but he’s not going to let someone speak badly of you. Especially not Natasha, now that he knows about the way you feel about Brian.

   “And why is that?” He grits his teeth, and you squeeze his arm gently to communicate that it’s okay. You don’t need his protection, you can manage.

  “Well,” Natasha begins, and you glance at Brian’s expression. He stares directly at you, gaze unfaltering. He isn’t even hearing what is being said, “You usually tend to go for much more...visually appealing women.”

  Ouch.

 You’re not gonna lie, that hit you right in the ego. It’s not as if you had much confidence before anyway.

  That’s when Brian breaks his stare to look at Natasha, a dumbfounded look on his face, “What-”

  But Roger interrupts, anger prevalent in his tone, “I don’t think you’re one to gauge who’s visually appealing and who isn’t, Natalie.”

 You hold back a giggle, albeit a hurt one, trying to hide your pain behind an unbothered smile. But you fear that your body betrays you as you tilt your head down, hands dropping from Roger’s arm to cross over your stomach.

  Natasha opens her mouth to speak, but Freddie intercepts, “Alright! Okay, we should go find what rooms we are in and freshen up. I need a beauty nap.”

  You’re thankful for Fred, giving him a discreet nod to which he responds with a wink. You take one last look at your supposed best friend, Brian, not a trace of sympathy for him on your face. How could he not defend his best friend of years from his girlfriend he’s probably only known for a couple weeks at most?

  Baffled and dejected, your feet move mindlessly along with Roger as he steers the both of you into the hotel, muttering underneath his breath, “Dick.”

  “Who?” you whisper.

  “Brian.”

  You say nothing. You know it’s true, but it hurts a hell of a lot when your own best friend doesn’t stick up for you.

  Roger follows you into your hotel room when you reach it, watching as you flop into the soft white sheets with a long, weary sigh.

   Roger sits at the end of your bed, “Natasha’s a right pain in the arse.”

  You sit up, hair mussed and eyes tired, “I meant to ask, have you met her before?”

  He nods with a wince, “Unfortunately. She’s like that all the time. It’s baffling that Brian hasn’t noticed it yet. The lad’s usually quite level-headed.”

  You nod with a hum, staring out of the window behind him. You get most in thought momentarily, thinking about the way Brian was so truly oblivious to the way Natasha acted. He’s almost gotten into bust ups with men at bars who have disrespected you, but it seems to be okay when Natasha does it. Maybe love really is blind. The idea of them in love makes your guts churn.

  “Anyway,” Roger starts, standing up, “You should take a nap. I’ll come to wake you up in a couple hours for dinner, alright?”

  You smile, “Thanks, Rog. For everything.”

  He shoots you a cheeky wink, “Anytime, love.”

  So you gladly lay down in the cool white sheets once Roger is out the door, staring up at the ceiling until eventually you let your eyelids flutter closed.

 Two hours later, you’re up, bathed, and dressed, fiddling with the hem of your midnight blue dress in the mirror.

  Insecurity eats away at you each time your eyes scrutinise yet another perceived flaw. As much as you hate to admit it, Natasha’s words echo around in your mind. She’s right, you're not visually appealing. How could you be, when Brian won’t even look twice at you as more than a friend.

 A knock sounds at your door, Roger’s voice coming soon after, “Are you ready, love?”

 You snap out of your trance, pushing all the self-hatred aside to open the door. Plastering a wide smile on your face, you take his arm in yours.

  He raises a brow.

  “I’m not the one who told everyone we were dating,” you lightly pat his arm, “so hold tight, loverboy.”

  You meet the group outside by the cars once again, John leaning up against the side of his car and Freddie perched gracefully on the bonnet. Brian and Natasha however, are nowhere to be seen. You frown and ask Freddie where they are.

  “Not a clue, my dear. If they aren’t down in five minutes I’m leaving without them.”

  As if on queue, the couple in question walk out of the revolving doors. Brian’s face is flushed, Natasha’s smug. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why they’re late.

  You catch eyes with Brian and watch, hurt, as he looks away bashfully. Your chest pangs, just a bit, as you glance down at your dress for distraction.

  Roger squeezes your arm comfortingly, “Do you want to ride with us?”

  You shake your head, “Would it be bad if I said I wanted to keep an eye on them?”

  He smiles, “Cheeky.”

 You force a tight smile.

 In all honesty, you aren’t quite sure if you’ll be fine, but when you take another look at Natasha’s smirk, you let your anger be the driving force that pushes you into the back seat of Brian’s car.

  Luckily, they seem to behave themselves while you’re in the car. Well, Brian does. Natasha often tries to place her hand on his thigh, but he always pushes it off. You notice that something has changed since the drive earlier, a shift in Brian’s mood. He’s more bashful than ever, staying practically silent with his cheeks seemingly tinged pink permanently.

  Eventually, Natasha gives up with a huff, crossing her arms and looking out the window as the radio hums a tune none of you are paying attention to. Brian is looking straight at the road, and you’re watching him as he clenches and unclenches his jaw. The sun is just beginning to set beside him, silhouetting his face like an eclipse. He’s so beautiful, even when you’re annoyed with him, and even when he looks annoyed himself.

  He pulls into the car park, killing the engine and turning around to face you in his seat. You furrow your eyebrows as he stares, “What-”

  “Nat, could you give us a minute?”

  “But-”

  “I’ll meet you in the restaurant.”

  She stares at him baffled, looking at you and back to him, before rolling her eyes and getting out of the car. She slams the door and beelines to the entrance, leaving the rest of the boys no choice but to follow her. Roger shoots you a concerned look through the window, to which you return a reassuring smile. It does nothing to reassure yourself, though, as Brian’s fiery gaze is pointed directly at you.

  The car remains silent as both of you challenge each other to see who will speak first. You stand your ground and hold his glare, crossing your arms in defiance. He speaks up,

  “Why didn’t you tell me that you and Rog were together?”

  Your eyebrows shoot up, so that’s what this is about?

  “Why do you care?”

  He scoffs, turning away from you to look out of the window, “I don’t know, maybe because you’re my best friend and he’s my bandmate?”

  “Why does that matter?” You challenge.

  He just shakes his head with a spiteful chuckle, dodging the question, “Roger doesn’t date.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “He’s just going to leave you for another woman, or worse, he’ll just do it behind your back.”

  “And I suppose you’re any better?”

  Your words are harsh, and you regret them the minute they came out. Especially when he turns to look at you with a flash of hurt in his eyes. Brian’s had his own share of infidelity, but he’s always felt guilty over it, as if it haunts him. You suddenly feel sick. He confided in you and you’ve just thrown it back at him.

  Without another word, he opens his door and steps out, slamming the door behind him. You watch as his figure retreats into the restaurant, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. Shit.

  You take a shaky breath, closing your eyes momentarily. You stand on trembling legs and make your own way into the venue, fingernails digging into your palms.

  Everyone is already sitting at the table when you join them, so you take your place in between Roger and John. Both of them look equally concerned, Roger’s eyes flickering to Brian across the table. You dare to glance up to where he’s glaring, fiddling with the tablecloth. His upper lip twitches like it always does when he’s angry, a tick that only you’ve ever noticed about him. His warm hazel eyes seem cold, but you can almost see the flames behind them. He’s pissed. More than pissed.

  Roger unwittingly adds fire to the flame when he leans down to whisper in your ear, “Everything alright, love?”

  You look at Brian once more, his napkin now clenched in his fist, you turn to Roger to whisper, “I think he’s mad.”

  Roger chuckles, “You think? The bloke looks like he wants to castrate me.”

  “I think he probably does.” You sigh.

  Thankfully, always the life-saver, Freddie begins reenacting a run in he had with a fan in a public toilet the other day, and everyone begins loosening up. Well, except for Brian. He’s pretty much silent throughout dinner. Even when Natasha tries to pat his arm or whisper something in his ear, he keeps the same disgruntled look upon his face. You find yourself becoming angrier with every passing moment.

  Who does Brian think he is? How can he let his girlfriend walk all over you, then he insults you, and then he somehow has the right to be angry with you?

  It’s bullshit, and you shoot daggers at him over your dessert. You don’t even want it. It’s your favourite and everything.

  You turn to John, ever the organised one, “Hey, do you know what we’re doing tomorrow?”

  He tilts his chin up and chews on one side of his mouth as he thinks, “I think we planned to visit Conwy Castle.”

  You nod, humming, “Cool.”

  It’s only the first night, and the trip still has five more days, but you find yourself anxious to return home. Especially in the dim lights of a small Italian restaurant as Brian stares at you with that unforgiving gaze, you wish to be anywhere but.

  Brian and Natasha left before everyone else, skipping their coffee and choosing to head back to the hotel. They didn’t so much as question how you’d be getting back. Instead, they left you with the remaining three Queen boys, all of their curious eyes on you.

  They want answers, you can see it on their faces. It’s the first moment all of you have had together without Brian and Natasha there and they want to know what the bloody hell is going on.

  You shake your head at their silence, taking one final bite of your dessert, “Don’t ask me anything, because I don’t have a fucking clue.”

  You huff as you flop back onto the bed. It’s far past sunset, and your hotel room is dim except for the orange glow of the street lights outside your window. Roger, John and Freddie decided to go find some sort of bar to finish the evening, but you asked them to drop you off at the hotel so that you could sleep. Except you couldn’t, your mind wired with so many thoughts of Brian that you couldn’t so much as close your eyes. You decided that staring up at the ceiling wasn’t helping, instead it was making the thoughts worse, so you got out of bed and walked to the balcony and stared out over the sea, letting the cold air of the night nip at your bare skin.

  Just as you close your eyes, there’s a knock at the door, echoing through the sound of the waves in the distance. The tiny clock at the side of your bed reads just past midnight as you pad through the dark to get to the door.

  You open it a crack, “Who is it?” you ask gently.

  “Brian.”

  Your pulse jumps slightly as you open the door the rest of the way and take in his appearance. His eyes are tired and sunken, his hair mussed as if he’d been tugging on it. You wonder if it was him who tugged on it, or someone else, but based on the way his head is bowed, you don’t think anything of the sort happened.

  “Hi,” you gulp, treading lightly, ashamed of the words you threw at him earlier this evening, yet anger still fizzles within you softly.

 “Hi,” he breathes, hand rubbing the back of his neck, “did I wake you?”

 “No,” you shake your head, “couldn’t sleep.”

  “Neither.”

  “Is Natasha awake?”

  He pauses, looking at the floor and then back at you, “She’s asleep.”

  You nod, quiet after his response. What now?

  “Do you...want to come in?”

 You step aside after he nods, quietly walking through the doorway and into the dimness of your room, and then out onto the balcony. You follow, mind racing a million miles a minute, watching his back as he leans against the railing.

  You join him, staring out at the starry reflection of the moon against the sea, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  He turns to look at you, though you don’t return his glance. Instead you bask in his gaze upon your face as the wind flutters through your hair and the moon glitters against your skin.

  “It is,” he whispers, his own hair rustled by the wind as he continues to stare at you.

  Neither of you speak for a while, just watching the water as it shimmers like diamonds, though you’re both aware of the words unsaid and the words that were. But for a few moments the two of you decided to ignore the rift between you, and instead let the soft silver gleam of the moon heal your aching hearts.

 But things must not go unsaid for too long or they will fester, and you’re the first to speak, “Why’d you come see me, Bri?”

  He sighs, looking down at his hands, “I came to say sorry. I shouldn’t have said that stuff about Rog, he’s a good guy.”

  You stare at him for awhile, “He is a good guy,”

 Brian’s eyebrows seem to fall, which causes your own to furrow. You continue, “but did you mean what you said?”

  He looks into your eyes and you know instantly that he did. The only reason he’s come to apologise is because he upset you.

  “I did.”

 Though it angers you, you admire his honesty. You can’t be so frank with him, you’d end up spilling your feelings.

 “Is it so unbelievable that someone like Roger would like someone like me?”

 It feels odd talking about Rog as if he’s actually your boyfriend, but you’re hurt. Natasha’s earlier words cut like a knife, and hearing Brian think the same would cut like no other.

  “That’s not what I meant at all. You’re just…” he trails off and looks back at the sea, shaking his head.

  “I’m what?”

  “You’re...perfect. You’re too good for someone who will hurt you”

  The sound of the wind fills your silence, a sense of confusion and joy fluttering in your stomach. You wish you could tell him that you appreciate his concern, but he’s been the one hurting you all this time. However it’s not his fault, and you remain quiet. He called you perfect.

  You search his face for any sign of anything, any twitch of his brow that might give anything away, but he’s stoic as always.

  “But you can’t be the one to make that decision for me.” you breathe, choosing to ignore what he said. Perhaps you’re scared of him taking it back, or claiming it was nothing. You want to hold onto the very feelings you feel now, after Brian has called you perfect underneath the moonlight.

  “I know.” he sighs, looking down at his hands. You’ve always loved his hands, his long slender fingers that are often adorned with a couple silver rings, usually on his pinky finger. You’d often imagined the way they might feel against your bare skin, but each time you dared to delve into that idea, you quickly shut it down.

  The fact that you’ve been lying to Brian about Roger makes you feel wretched, eating away at your insides as you chew on your bottom lip. It feels as though you’re seeing a bit more of Brian’s private thoughts, and he’s only shared them with you because he thinks you’re dating Roger.

  The confession is right there on the tip of your tongue, a loud exclamation of truth ready to erupt from inside of you, “Brian-”

  “-Y/N” he begins at the same time, and immediately all courage is lost. The boiling truth returns to a simmer, and your racing heart begins to still.

  You both chuckle, a sense of normalcy returning for the first time tonight as he scratches the back of his neck, “You first.”

  Shaking your head, you give him a small smile, “Not important, you go.”

  He nods, taking a breath as if to build his courage back up, turning his body to face you entirely. You do the same, concerned at the sudden seriousness that’s returned to his face. You watch in silence as he takes yet another deep breath, the dread inside of you intensifying.

  “I…” he begins, and you want to grab him by the shoulder and shake, tell him to spit it out already because you feel nauseated.

  “It’s terrible of me to say this, and I know I have no right whatsoever to do so, but...I don’t want you to date Roger.”

  You’re taken aback by his blatant request, baffled at why he is so against the idea of you and Roger being together, “Why not?”

  He looks just as irritated as you, all civility that you’d built up just moments before knocked down like a house of cards. It’s as if the idea of you not listening to his request infuriates him, and in return that makes you equally angry.

  “I told you before.”

  “But we agreed that this isn’t your decision.”

  At this point, you aren’t sure why you’re continuing to act as if Roger is your boyfriend. Perhaps you’ve let it go too far and to confess now would damage your dignity. Or maybe you want to see how far Brian is willing to go with his request. Surely he won’t force the two of you apart.

  “It’s not my decision, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling uncomfortable.”

  “Uncomfortable?!” you raise your voice. This conversation is going in the complete wrong direction, but you can’t seem to stop it, or stop yourself. The two of you are both passionate people always speaking for what they believe in, and in this case you are on opposing sides. Like fire and ice, or darkness and light, the two of you battle against each other.

  “Yes! Uncomfortable!”

  “Go on then, explain to me why it makes you so uncomfortable.”

  “He’s my bandmate-”

  “And why does that matter?”

  “You’ll be a distraction!”

  “I’ve known you all for years, and suddenly now that I’m dating one of you, I’m a distraction? Nice, Brian.”

  He goes to speak, but you interrupt, “And what about Natasha, huh? Is she not a distraction? Or is it just me then?”

  “She doesn’t come to the studio with us like you do.”

  “You were the one who told me that you love when I come to the studio.”

  He looks flustered, “I do, but-”

  “You’re not making any sense,” you say, exasperated, “what is the big deal about me dating Roger?”

  He doesn’t answer, instead staring at you with a burning intensity behind his caramel irises. A siren blares in the distance and a cloud sheathes the moon in a grey cast. It’s as if his answer is in his eyes, but you just can’t catch it. You’re both speaking two different languages.

  “I should go,” he says finally.

 Muddled thoughts race through your head. You want to say so many things but nothing comes out, your mind a jumbled mess of intertwined wires. Goddamnit,  Y/N, say something.

  He turns to walk through the hotel room, and you have no choice but to watch his back as he retreats. But then he stops in his tracks, turning to look at you once more. He has hurt written across his face, you can see it even in the darkness.

  “Where is Roger, by the way?”

  He tilts his head to the side, challenging you to answer him. You stare in silence, no answer on your tongue.

 He nods, his own point proven to himself as he goes to turn back around, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

[pillowfluffs]

Room Renovations | Hyunwoo, Minhyuk

Pairing: Hyunwoo X Reader (gender neutral) and Minhyuk X Reader (gender neutral)

Genre: simple fluff, fun ig 

Author’s Note: inspired by me currently redoing my room too tehe

Hyunwoo: 

The room was so hot, all your clothes and things were scattered into messy organized piles all over the floor, and you couldn’t move your dressers that were right in the center of the room

Everything was so heavy and you couldn’t move anything on your own but most of all you were so hungry

Your room looked like a complete disaster- specifically the floor and this was only the beginning

You were in the process of clearing out your little apartment so you could return it to the landlord and move in with Hyunwoo

But now clearing it, you didn’t realize you had so much stuff

Your bed was completely covered by your wardrobe from your closet and dressers and you needed to pack them into suitcases but you also needed to get rid of stuff and put things into storage, give stuff away, etc

You actually liked to pack things and such but this was a bit more than you initially thought

It was pretty stressful since it all was a time crunch

But right now you couldn’t think straight or focus on something too much- all you wanted was food in your tummy. The heat didn’t help at all- you just wanted the air conditioning to come back on and for Hyunwoo to return

You currently moved to your book case and grabbed two empty boxes- one for donations and others for keeping

You only had one shelf and a looking at the books, almost half of them were bought on a whim since you thought you would like to read it but you were wrong

You fanned yourself with a small magazine, frustratedly stacking books into both boxes, averting your gaze from everything else in the room

This was how you were whenever you packed your room: you got a little too excited about things and you did this thing where you jumped form one thing to another, not finishing the first thing

It was a bad habit and this time, it proved to be the worst habit you could have while packing your entire room

But not looking at your things could only help so much. It was like a mosquito bite or a thorn in your side, but in this case, there were multiple things of either or

Your clothes still needed to be folded and you were a fraction of the way through but you also needed to clear your desk and sort your supplies into the desk box… however, your bookshelf was one of the few things left untouched and you just had to sort these books right now

Your body felt so drained and tired spending the last couple days packing your entire apartment and your bedroom was one of the worst since you had so much

Birds chirped, bees buzzed, life went on as if nothing was wrong or stressful in life but you were going through the complete opposite and it really sucked right now

“I’m back,” the sound of the most glorious man in your life right now. Hyunwoo. Was. Back

You threw the book in your hand into the donations box and practically sprinted out of the humid bedroom, the socks you wore on your feet made you slip and almost fall as you approached him

“Foooddd!” you exaggerated, raising your voice a little towards the end to emphasize your hunger and little crankiness to which he playfully raised the take out bags up in the air in his hands

“Wooo,” he slipped out of his sneakers, setting the bags onto your kitchen counter

You had boxes stacked on top one another in your living room near the shelves and around the side of the couches with your belongings inside

You wasted no time zipping between the piles of boxes like it was an obstacle course and washed your hands with soap before you reached for plates and utensils

Hyunwoo wore a fitted b lack t-shirt with black joggers. You set yours and his plate on the counter next to the plastic containers containing the pasta and sides of beef and veggies in smaller ones

You danced about behind him, singing along to a random song, your hands tapping and lightly slapping his toned back as he plated yours and his foods

The aroma of the pasta wafted through the kitchen in the area around you two and it made your mouth salivate. Your stomach practically screamed in hunger

You wrapped your hands around his slim waist, peeking around him from behind

“Here you go,” he pushed your plate to the side so you could take and you happily did, letting out a joyous wheeze screech, making his eye smiles appear on his face

After parting his own, he put the covers over the containers and left it there in case you wanted seconds

You plopped yourself on the light brown leather couch in the center of your living room, tapping your utensils as you looked to him, waiting for him to join you

But it didn’t take him long. Hyunwoo was hungry too and you already knew he could most likely devour this entire order by himself

When he sat down, it was when the two of you began eating

Tasting the first mouthful of pasta on your tastebuds was almost enough to bring tears to your eyes. It was either that good or you were just hungry

“Mmm, thank you so much,” you bumped your head to his arm, taking another bite into your mouth

“No problem. How far did you get while I was gone?” He asked, shoveling a mouthful of pasta and stuffing a few pieces of the side order of meat into his mouth

“I don’t even think I made any. I was hungry and hot and it made me annoyed with everything,” you took a bite of a veggie, tasting it. “But you’re here and food is here, so things should be a lot better. I can think now.”

And you were right

The two of you had seconds with little to no leftovers left and got back to work as the sun set outside, the last bits of the day painted beautifully into the early evening sky

Hyunwoo helped you move your dressers into the hall so one of them could be donated and the other could be brought to your parents’ house to be reused

The room opened up but now the main things were the piles on the ground but that was all that was left

You focused yourself and got to folding your clothes as Hyunwoo finished where you left on your bookshelf. He listed out titles for you to tell him whether to keep it or not as you folded and packed your clothes into suitcases

When he finished clearing your bookshelf, he moved your boxed books out to make even more room so it didn’t feel as stuffy

Everything really was better after food and the temperature going down

When those were out of the way, he started your desk for you. Here, he didn’t have to ask you too much so the two of you talked about whatever

You filled your big suitcase and all you had left that would fit into your smaller suitcase. As Hyunwoo cleared your desk and supplies, including your office supplies, you didn’t realize how much stuff you didn’t want until he asked you about it

The trash bag you had for anything in general was filling up fast but things were clearing and the more things were being cleared, the more it felt like the weight was lifting off of you

When your clothes were finally done and folded, Hyunwoo took the suitcases out for you and now the living room was organized with stacks of your boxes

It was a bit after midnight when your room was finally cleared and now all you had left to do was move your boxes, take out the trash of stuff you didn’t want, bring your boxes of donated things to their respectful places and do a clean down before returning your keys to your landlord

But the cleaning day would have to be for another day- most likely the day after tomorrow  

When the final box was packed, you had never seen your room so clear

You could feel the small bags forming beneath your eyes as you yawned for the nth time

You stood before Hyunwoo and leaned into him, wrapping your hands around his neck, giving him a tired hug

‘Thank you for everything,” your voice was silky in his ears

He leaned down, bringing his face to your shoulder, kissing your jaw and neck, his hands traveling down the sides of your body

“It’s nothing,” he smiled against your skin, the tips of his ears turning red

Minhyuk: 

Upbeat music played from your bluetooth speaker that was connected to Minhyuk’s phone, the song echoing off your high walls

The two of you were currently in your rented room in the house you shared with three other roommates

The house itself was pretty old but it you weren’t surprised since it was one of many other houses that lined the edge of your university campus. You’ve lived here since your first year, renewing your lease every year

It was pretty convenient for you as a uni student since you didn’t have to pay the expensive housing and meal plan feels as part of your tuition but you also didn’t have to waste gas by driving to campus and struggle to find a parking spot while you were at classes

You didn’t have to waste money or struggle to find a spot. Instead, you walked to school to your classes almost everyday but since it was your last year, you didn’t have too many challenging classes since you had almost all your credits

This year was just the final stretch and it was almost over

But before the year ends, you began to pack your room so you could bring them back to your parents’ house to live there in the mean time before the year ended

And since your room was one of the biggest, you also had the most stuff so you didn’t have to go back and forth between your place and your parents’ house for your things

It had only been a few hours since you started and the two of you had only managed to clear your dresser but you still had your closet and desk and bed and decorations

Today was going to be longggg. You could already tell

The biggest challenge you could see was your closet as you scanned your room and Minhyuk spread himself out all over your bed, humming along to the song, occasionally letting his voice shine

But you didn’t mind and no one else did either since one of your roommates was out for their classes for the day, the other was back at home already, and the last one was just out and about

You two had the house completely to yourselves

“Can we order pizza?” Minhyuk asked as you pushed your two remaining jumbo sized suitcases into your little walk in closet

“Yeah, order on my laptop and then get in here,” you called, your voice raised since the room muffled sound. It was pretty cozy and to be quite honest, you knew you were going to miss this space when you were back home

Some nights when all the sounds of traffic or parties were going on, you brought your pillow and blanket to your closet, focusing in there since it was much quieter

You opened your first big suitcase and got to it. You piled your t-shirts and folded sweatshirts and pants from the built in shelves on the wall into your suitcase which filled about a third of it. The rest were all hung in hangers, which you also had boxes for to bring back with you since they were still good

You picked a section and started there, responding to Minhyuk as he called out possible toppings you would want, adding them to the pizza before it would come

It was nice since it would arrive most likely while the two of you cleaned out your closet so it would be a nice little treat

“Do you want a side of fries?” He called out

“Can you get seasoned?” You called out, pausing from your folding

“Yeah,” he responded, his voice quiet. He made the payment putting in his card info and then he joined you inside your closet

He got to work and brought in your speaker that was still playing music, turning the volume down in the small room

Light rain tapped on the little window in your closet but it was nothing you two could hear over the music

He sand along horrifically, getting you to laugh, being a source of entertainment and sunshine on this gloomy day

He folded clothes as he took them off the hanger and left them dangling on the metal rod as you took your time to take them individually off the hanger off the rod, discarding them

But while going through your wardrobe, you noticed a few articles you didn’t even want anymore and articles you never even more. You left and brought back a bag to donate your clothes

This made it somehow more fun to pack everything since you knew not everything in here was going to go into your suitcases and who knows? Maybe clearing out your closet would go by a lot faster than you thought

About an hour passed and the bag was 2/3 of the way full and your current suitcase was roughly the same 2/3 full. The two of you were making good time, getting through halfway through the closet

With the music going loud, it was suddenly interrupted from the call of the pizza deliverer. It was at this time you realized how much worse the storm had gotten, how much darker it was outside, the tree in the front yard swaying harshly in the wind

It was a sight to see and it made you stop where you were mid fold of one of your shirts

The sound of his steps thudded louder as he approached the top, the smell of pizza filling your room as he brought it to the main empty area

You folded your final shirt and went out to join him, the two of you washing hands side by side in the shared bathroom that you no longer had to share with your roommates

The pizza smelled delicious but what really got your mouth watering was the seasoned fries with garlic spice and parmesan cheese

The two of you ate your fill, leaving about three slices left before getting back to work

Instead of listening to music this time, you connected your laptop to the speaker and played a movie the two of you didn’t care about too much, acting as a background sound while the two of you commented about how cheesy the lines were and about how poor the acting skills of the cast were

By the time the movie was about a quarter of the way through, the two of you were able to finish packing your closet in a breeze. You got rid of a lot of old clothes you brought from home, packing the newer ones you had bought

You still had your second suitcase which was perfect cause now you could pack your bedding and save a few more boxes for your desk supplies and decorations

You sat at your desk with a box empty at your side, neatly organizing things into it as Minhyuk climbed a little step ladder you borrowed from downstairs to take down your string lights that were weaved around the wooden support beams

Fortunately, you didn’t have too much/ you didn’t bring too much things for your desk, mostly a couple books and a few textbooks since almost everything was online

He neatly placed your lights into your box as you packed your notebooks, flipping through them, seeing the familiar notes you had to take with your rushed handwriting

The day was going by a bit slow but things were getting done in a non-stressful environment and it was pretty nice

The movie played on your laptop still on your bed

Looking around, it felt weird to see it so empty. You could remember the days you moved in, you and your parents helping you bring up your desk and curtains, helping you set up your room

Now you were seeing it all go away and being cleared. It was like you were creeping toward the end of a chapter you didn’t think would be near so soon

The desk and decorations did not take as long as you thought as possible. You honestly felt like you had a lot more but seeing it all boxed up and in suitcases made it feel like you really didn’t bring that much

The bed was the final thing you two had to do but it was time for a break

There wasn’t too much of a rush since it wasn’t like you two were going to be leaving with all your things as soon as the bedding was packed

The storm was still brewing, it was rush hour so the streets were packed too and no one was here to bother you or anything

There really was no rush at all. The two of you laid in your bed beneath your plush comforters, laid and surrounded by all your fluffy pillows

He placed the laptop on his stomach to watch the movie despite how.. not good it was and you laid beside him, legs tangled with his between the sheets

You rested your head on his chest. One arm around your, his fingers rubbing circles into your arm while the other rested behind his head

At the comfiness all around you, you yawned into him, using your blanket to wipe away the tears that formed in your eyes

“Nap time?” He nudged your arm

“Maybe…” you said a bit more tiredly than you thought you were, your eyes getting heavy

~~~~~ Masterlist for more! Thank you for reading!

[skamamoroma]

BECAUSE I CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT THIS SHOW UNTIL I WRITE ALL THIS DOWN: “I Told Sunset About You” - each other’s flaws, rivals and how the ending is so god damn hopeful and full circle it keeps making me cry etc.

Ever since I finished ITSAY, I’ve wanted to write a post about the theme of rivalry verses the fact that, in the end, Oh and Teh teach the other and give the other things they miss from their lives and how this story is quite possibly top of the list when it comes to the most romantic, most meaningful, most stunning example of that. I don’t think I’ll ever be over it or able to summarise how much emotion and lingering thought it leaves you with because it’s just humanity at its most lovely. The entire last sequence was something I rewatched the other night and it had me sobbing. I’m still just so stunned at how all of these little threads are tied together, how BOTH get what they need and have the most beautiful cyclical but developed stories and it ends in so much emotion for them both even outside of each other. AND THE GOD DAMN SCORE OVER THE END SCENE KEEPS POPPING UP ON MY PLAYLIST AND MAKING ME CRY WHEN I LEAST EXPECT IT.

So, I love that the show begins with the idea that Teh is chasing his dream. He’s in his audition making it happen and still, he thinks of Oh-aew and includes him as the reason he wants to succeed. We get their backstory and the idea that Teh’s passion for acting and especially playing Yongjian is wrapped up not only in his wish to pursue that career but also in proving a point to his mum and brother. He sees a chance to impress and be something because, as he said, he doesn’t see anything else in himself that could make them proud. Teh’s dream, triggered by Yongjian - the role - is kind of all encompassing with THAT Uni and THAT dream. It’s all wrapped up in one. It’s clearly part of the reason that Chinese is something he has this focus for and he comes back to it, even uses it to learn.

The fact that, as kids, they part on such bad terms because both effectively realised they wanted the same dream, both felt they each couldn’t have it at the same time, they were stubborn and selfish and gate keeping. Teh felt threatened and as if his unique selling point and passion was being stolen and Oh felt impassioned for once but then betrayed by a friend he thought would support him but didn’t stop to consider how effectively stepping into the one role Teh dreamed of as a kid could be a sore spot. It was all so childish and petty but when we see them as young men, they’re still those same people. They haven’t changed all too much and so we get to see their growth side by side, for good or bad.

The use of RIVALS as the first Chinese word, the word Teh writes on his test paper and the foundation of what they think they are to each other becomes so meaningful as they grow and we only see the growth through their flaws from that point onwards. 

Teh’s flaws being in terms of his emotional growth and ability to be comfortable in his own skin and express himself and Oh’s in his finding drive, passion, focus and learning to believe in and apply himself. The other excels in the area that the other has flaws. Oh is so in tune with him emotions; he’s sure, confident, expressive, honest, open and affectionate. Teh is so driven and able to apply himself and never gives up, knowing he can do it that he’s a force to be reckoned with and even a little arrogant with it. 

For me, THE most beautiful thing about this story is how both of them learn that lesson from the other and how the process is so detailed and wrapped up in so many other facets of the show. It’s so god damn stunning to watch each of them help the other and then learn/grow so that when they both stand at the sunset, they are different people.

Teh’s impact on Oh is significant. It’s all wrapped up in Ke Yi… he teaches Oh that he CAN DO IT. He encourages by providing his books, he tutors, he teaches so that Oh can understand, he pushes him to focus, he gives advice on how he can improve, he wakes up at 4am to encourage Oh to study… he makes him the idioms book, he never stops offering guidance and when he feels that he’s the reason all of Oh’s hard work has been for nothing, he gives up his spot to Oh. The fact that Oh goes very serious when they first have a tutoring session and asks Teh seriously - help me - has such a profound impact on Teh and his self worth, you can see how him being able to help makes him feel good. They are no longer rivals - Teh is helping him in every way he knows how and will not let Oh fail. 

On the cliff, the conversation they have is so unique. I love the way that Oh says ‘never stop competing with me’. He knows the impact Teh has had on him and how good Teh’s influence is on him. He knows that his friendship with Teh has helped him see he CAN do it and has given him a boost. The fact that after RIVALS, Oh recognises that that might not be such a bad thing if competition can help you find your focus and can help you develop!

The fact that Oh makes his vow always makes me a bit misty eyed because he’s not being lazy anymore, he’s not sitting back. He’s being so active in his dreams and the belief in himself and he tells himself that he WILL succeed and be able to tell the sunset he did it. Him asking Teh to run alongside him is just… EMOTIONS… because Teh is the one he knows he needs by him.

And we see why. Because half way up the hill during their rehearsal, Oh stops and has a moment of wanting to give up and Teh doesn’t let him. He tells him they can sit for a while but they mustn’t give up… and you can see Oh thinking about it, looking at Teh and then deciding he has to carry on. Teh even helps to push him up the hill, always the encouragement.

And in the end, Teh is there by his side, doesn’t need to push Oh because he has learned and towards the end, Oh even overtakes Teh as they run. I remember in the documentary, Boss the director even telling BK and PP to run in a specific order too so I’m sure this was intentional. Again, THIS SHOW. 

The fact that Oh gets to the cliff and realises the sunset isn’t visible and it’s TEH who tells him that a Uni student wouldn’t give up, that they’re not done yet and it’s that last little gentle push with the words (cue me crying on the floor) “That’s right. Still a long way”. THE MEANING BEHIND THOSE WORDS. You can see that Oh feels heartbroken for Teh not getting his dream but the fact that Teh has come so far that he can encourage in that way, can recognise his own happiness for Oh’s achievements because he loves him so much. He is able to swallow his own disappointment and pain of not quite getting his dream because he’s proud of his friend and Oh’s feelings come before any of that RIVALRY. Talk about full circle.

And then you have Oh’s influence on Teh and it’s monumental. Teh’s entire arc is his journey towards feeling comfortable in his own skin, to know himself, to like himself and to feel he knows who he is. Oh doesn’t need this. Oh is so endlessly sure of himself in the loveliest way and when he’s not, he’s not frightened to be honest and open and wears his heart on his sleeve. We saw how easily he loved Teh and showed it. As they get closer, the way Oh KNOWS Teh is stunning. He may not always be able to read his thoughts but he knows how to handle Teh when he’s struggling. The amount of moments when Teh is close to impossible to understand, Oh watches him, listens, is so attentive and then on so many occasions, tells Teh he can talk to him and that there will be no judgement. Oh is so gentle with him, so understanding and so encouraging to use Teh’s tells or his quirks to try to get him to open up. He’ll allow him the time and space to work himself out. The beach scene is so beautiful for that because there’s Oh being all lit up that Teh is there and Teh just has no idea where to put himself, how to behave or what to say but only knows he wants to be near Oh. The words Oh tells him, to just BE and do what he wants have such an impact because Teh changes in an instant to being more relaxed. AND I CANNOT EVEN WRITE ABOUT THE FACT THAT THESE TWO IDEAS COME TOGETHER IN THE ‘MALE PROTAGONIST’ SCENE… do not. Because that’s Oh trying to speak Teh’s language to try to help him with his feelings and trying to work out their emotions and it’s Teh leaning into the constant wish to help Oh (even if he uses it as an emotional crutch or a safe space when he’s all in his feelings!). The way that Oh is so affectionate and loving and ALWAYS first to speak is the kind of ‘all in’ someone like Teh needs. Oh KNOWS Teh has feelings for him and doesn’t ask DO YOU, he asks HOW LONG. He’s so patient on the boat allowing Teh the silence and then returning to sit down and give Teh the time to try to sort himself out and SAY SOMETHING. Teh is the kind of person who says I love you in weird ways and who expresses his affection through unusual means and Oh knows it - the “message me when you’re home”, “I’ll get up at 4am to tutor you”, “yeah boys whatever, I’m not taking the time to make you flashcards, who’d do that”, a handmade book of chinese idioms made pretty with pictures and flowers - the list goes on...

My favourite moment to show how in tune Oh is with Teh’s inability to tackle his own emotion is after their first kiss. That entire scene, Teh does his usual and collapses with his head on Oh’s shoulder. He can’t process his emotions but Oh lifts his head and pushes his hair back… then Teh distracts from his feelings by playing with the hole in Oh’s vest and Oh takes his hands and puts them on his own face...then Teh jokes by playing fighting and Oh takes Teh’s arms and puts them on his shoulders. It’s a scene ENTIRELY speaking in touch because they don’t speak at all for that whole moment but the words are all there and the subtext is overwhelming. He guides and is just so sweet with Teh in helping him work out how to express himself. The fact that he even resorts to using Chinese on instagram to try to get through to Teh when he’s going through it is so meaningful. 

It’s what makes the way Teh behaves in the end sequence SO meaningful. He’s so relaxed, comfortable and chill. His looks are sure, his eyes aren’t scared anymore and he’s there FOR Oh. He’s not wrapped up in his own head, he’s so attentive towards Oh - running with him, buying him a coconut, helping him pack his bag, encouraging him to the Cape when the sunset doesn’t quite appear… and he’s playful. His blowing Oh’s face and walking backwards with the coconut and making silly faces - they’re all Oh moves and Teh’s only able to be this way BECAUSE Oh has been so kind to him and has taught him how to be. 

The sunset shot will always make me cry. That moment Teh just stands and looks at the sunset and sighs and ends up crying is so unbelievably moving - I have no words, honestly. It’s his peace and comfort. He looks like he’s eventually able to breathe and the way he just allows himself to cry and FEEL. God, it’s blissful. I think that shot is what keeps haunting me in the best way because it’s so utterly gorgeous and emotional. The way Oh walks towards him and the way he LOOKS at Teh even though he can’t see. 

“You came, finally”

“Well, I had to take care of a new uni student”

THE FULL CIRCLE FEELING OF THOSE TWO STATEMENTS. Teh is speaking first, being forward and knowing what he wants to do and Oh has succeeded in his dream. Those two moments they touch the other’s arm to say ‘it’s ok’ because they just CARE. There is no semblance of rivalry left, just pride and/or emotion in where the other has ended up. 

The journey from rivals to finding value in that, finding friendship again and learning from the other and falling in love along the way is just made so overwhelmingly meaningful and powerful because of the way each step is framed, how HOPEFUL the ending is because even without the romantic element, it’s so beautiful. Oh being his typically brave self asks first about them but the fact that he says himself that he’s ok to not have anything more other than Teh in his life is so lovely but the fact Teh chooses to be the one to speak first and to be brave himself and shows how much he has learned by asking for more is just the most perfect ending. AND I AM STILL NOT OVER IT ALL, CAN YOU TELL.

[momenacesage]

the things that we don't see

okey kokey, heres another jina x jooik fic for the uni au. i've never posted on tumblr before so ignore if i do this terribly!!

warnings : he eats her out at a party in the tiny bathroom under the stairs. things dont get too too explicit though.

this hasn't been spellchecked so if you see anything incorrect, look away!!

---------

the door creeks open a second later, the tall, dark haired male crowding the remaining space in the tiny crevice in the wall. momentarily, she feels a moment of terror when she takes a step back; only to feel the cold of the sink pressing into her back. but that doesn't last too long, because he's hauling her into a seated position, hands carefully handling her like she's some rare piece of art. cautiously, they appraise each other, and the sultry voice of some singer crawls out of the speakers in the other room. the rushing noises of the party that rages around them suddenly switch off when Jooik thumbs the gloss that has collected on her lower lip. she's captivated. Not before long, he'll slide that hand back to hold her face as he leans in. He feels like hes cupping the whole world when both hands come to rest against her cheeks. "Do you want me?" His voice rumbles out of his chest in the darkness of the room. The only thing that has heated her up in what feels like centuries. She doesn't feel deterred by the way that her thighs grow moist solely by the sound, and instead, tugs one of his hands to feel her too. It's obvious due to the little black dress she decided to don. These days it seemed like his colour. And she's fine with admitting that ever since that kiss in the rain, she's been trying to capture his attention again. She knows that he's only doing this because he pities her, and maybe this was selfish of her. But even if she had to stand in a dark room to simply feel him - she'll take it. She's pulled out of her thoughts when she feels the bare air and a pressure against her nub. In correlation, he finally kisses her. If it was to filter out the needy whine that crawled out of her lips at that time, who knows. She simply realises that he doesn't want anyone at this event to know that the two of them were in there. He kisses her gently at first. Until he tilts her head back, cradling her jaw with one palm whilst the other explores. He groans as he sinks a finger into her. Her tight heat clutching at him, waiting for him. He feels safe. She has always sent him into a frenzy, and now he can finally feel his patience fraying; wearing thin. Her arms reach to rest against his neck, legs widen so that he can find a place amongst them. They fit like a puzzle piece, and even in the dark, they work in tandem. He familiarises the way she moves against him, whining for another finger as she remains greedy for more. His fingers are reaching farther than anything she's experienced before. She's always been aware of this particular phenomena. It was the first thing she thought of when they shook hands for the first time, it fluttered up in her - some sort of desire when his fingers fully overtook her own. She still hadn't fully realised that they were here today, doing what they were doing. He had refused to turn the light on, refused to look at her in this particular dance. Which had been fine with her, she was scared that if he saw her face in such an intimate moment. He'd finally notice how her eyes change around him - how she grew softer, more thoughtful than her usual manner. She didn't want to let him see her eyes fill with adoration when she looks at him. He pities her. Their friendship would be ruined if this was to come out. He doesn't love her. They were both liars. It starts again, his kisses getting deeper, and slower this time. It blocks out any noises that she could make, but sometimes he wonders what would happen if he allowed a few to slip forth. He doesn't like the way other people look at her when he's not around, but knows that he has no right to be possessive over her. They aren't together. He feels like a preteen boy with his erection straining at his pants. Jooik refuses to acknowledge the development, curling his fingers to the rhythm of the song outside, this is the sweetest form of torture that he could think of for her. Playing catch with the little sounds she made, pulling her body taught against his own so that he would have better reach to her mouth. He can feel her tightening

like a coil underneath him, and that's when he extracts himself from the woman - or at least, as best as he can in this tiny room. It doesn't fare well with her.

He's never heard the noise that escapes from her mouth ( and neither has she) when they lose contact. "You're so impatient", he'll murmur, rolling his eyes as he situates a smooth leg against his shoulder. "You're too cruel". She'll respond, finding her balance in this precarious position. Before she realises what she's doing, she's reading out for him, hands grasping for something, anything, she needs to feel that he's there. And someone grabs back. He pulls her hands to his head, clenching her fingers around his hair for him, and purrs when she pulls it just right. Jooik has to squirm in his seated position; he knows that this moment was supposed to be about her, but she's making it very hard for him. The burning in his lungs are back as he smooths a hand over her thigh, simply pulling the nearly not there thing that she has covering her. Hand guiding his way through the dark before kissing her squarely where he had just departed. She jolts in her position, head slamming against the arched ceiling to the bathroom below the stairs, and a groan of pain elicits from her mouth this time. In turn, he'll roll his eyes. He can figure out what she's done. He'll sigh when he clasps a second hand over her legs, pulling the woman tightly to his mouth before continuing his exploration. Jina will cry out when she feels his mouth against her, working reverently against her - her hand tightening on the side of the sink, grip white as she tries not to make a sound. Her hands are forming a fist in his hair, body tightening once again as she's reduced to a series of mewling noises. Coaxing him to give her more - he's found an angel in the noises she makes for him.   Suddenly, there's a knock at the door. And a shove, someone's trying to get in. "C'mon! When are you going to be done?" Obviously she freaks out. The woman knows that the other doesn't want their escapades being circulated round the department. But when she goes to reply, the male worshipping at her feet continues. It's almost as if it all gets a bit too much to bare as he works his finger alongside his tongue, working in tandem. "Aren't you going to answer them?” He'll say, before he bows again. The man takes great satisfaction as she starts to stutter - attempting to form words together, sound almost normal. But she's struggling. And he can feel the anger that he felt towards her dissipate. This woman was always poised, now she was here, falling apart due to him. Her head is swimming as she attempts to respond. She knows that words are coming out, but Jina feels a little like she's about to burst apart - her destruction and saviour at her feet. It's the quiet before the storm. Apparently she had made some sense, because she can feel the vibrations of someone walking away from the door. Instead, she'll focus on the way that he grins against her. Satisfied in her tormented moment. Although, there is some sort of sick satisfaction apparent now that he knows that he's the only one who makes her fall apart like this. Soon enough, she's riding his face. And he simply let's her take her pleasure. That leg around his shoulder tightening - so he knows that it's going to happen soon. His tongue will stiffen into a point, thrusting; not for too long, because that change has her writhing in pleasure. Like a fireball exploding, she finds the final form of their coupling. She knows exactly how explosive she was when he rises again to drag her into a kiss. Jooik's mouth is slick with her desire for him. It's good that the lights were off. Her taste on his lips have just proven how he makes her feel. But instead of addressing it, he wipes down his face. Pushing the now discarded underwear into his pocket as he nonchalantly leaves her sat in the sink. Once again, confused and alone The next morning, she’ll wake up to dreams of a dark haired figure meeting her on the street, in order to give her a piggy back ride as she drunkenly stumbles home from said party. The woman plays it off as a dream until she turns in the covers and notices the bottled hangover medicine that

had been left on her bedside table.

[artificialqueens]

Modern Love, 1/12 (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex) - Ortega

fic summary: Brooke Lynn is a 23 year old graduate writing boring, uninspired pieces for the fashion department of a newspaper and living in a city all her friends have moved away from. Silky is living at her parents’ house and spends her days applying for jobs she’s promptly rejected for. Nina and Monet are struggling through their first year as teachers whilst being sickeningly adorable girlfriends. Akeria is pursuing her dream of being a badass lawyer, even if her master’s degree is slowly crushing her soul. Plastique is acting like the second coming of Paris Hilton, so nothing there has changed. Scarlet is overworked and Yvie is underpaid and their relationship isn’t all it appears from the outside.

And Vanessa? Vanessa is nowhere to be seen.

(A story about a holiday, a breakup, friendships and relationships in a post-graduate world, careers, navigating life after university, figuring out what it means to be an adult, and coming to terms with the fact that we really are not nineteen forever.)

a/n: welcome to the sequel to Not Nineteen Forever!!! i should say it’s not *~ mandatory ~* to have read the original before this but it’s encouraged huehue xo hope u enjoy and please feel free to reblog, like and send love!!

***

Brooke felt the all-encompassing sense of dread wash over her as her alarm went off, the sounds of the radio that were gradually fading in doing nothing to make the experience of waking up for another day of work any more palatable. She groaned loudly as she stretched, her arms flying out to the side and hitting the edge of the double bed. Brooke starfished a little, stretching her legs out as long as they would go and trying to put off getting up and showered for as long as she could.

Rolling over in bed she reached for her phone and stopped when she saw the rose-gold rectangular frame beside her on the bedside table. It caught her by surprise every day, almost a sort of routine in itself. A picture of her and Vanessa from when they first moved in, standing at the doorway having just popped a bottle of champagne. Brooke’s face was in a funny contorted sort of smile as she yanked the cork out of the bottle and Vanessa was clapping her hands in excitement, a brilliant white moonbeam painted across her face. Brooke remembered the day well. Monet had taken the photo with Nina beside her, both of them still in their work clothes after they’d visited straight from a hard day full of teaching. Akeria, Silky, Plastique, Scarlet and Yvie had all been inside, shuffling through the huge variety of Domino’s pizza boxes that had just arrived at their door like a deck of cards. That night had been so special. Whatever had happened since then, Brooke would probably treasure that memory forever.

In spite of herself she smiled as she looked at the photograph, then turned her attention to her phone screen.

No notifications. She didn’t know why she expected anything more.

With a cloud over her head that matched the ones in the uncharacteristically grey June sky, Brooke brushed her teeth and peeled her pyjamas off before stepping into the shower and adjusting the dial to somewhere between tepid and warm. Vanessa’s shower gel sat in the corner, the tropical fruit and mint one with little tiny sloths all over the front. Brooke found herself hurting as she looked at it, still loath to use it as she took her own from the opposite side and splatted a huge dollop into her shower puff. Sometimes she used it indulgently, like a secret she shared with herself. She didn’t know whether she’d buy more when it ran out. That was something she still needed to think about.

Once she was clean Brooke briskly dried herself with a towel, sitting on the edge of the bed wrapped in it as she carefully blow-dried out her hair. She picked out her outfit: smart black work trousers with a fabric belt that pulled her in at the waist, a black and white patterned shirt, black stiletto heels. As she painted some minimal makeup on her face in the hope it would make her look less like a sleep-deprived zombie and more like she had her life together in some way, Brooke checked the clock and cursed as she realised she was running behind.

Leaving lipstick for the moment, she grabbed her bag, shoved her feet in a pair of black pumps, and left hurriedly for the train. Breakfast wasn’t a priority; she knew she could grab an iced coffee and a croissant from the cafe in the station in between changing trains, as it took her two to get into work. It was times such as these that she wished she knew how to drive like Monet, Plastique and Akeria, or had learned since uni like Nina or Scarlet. But then again, cafe food for breakfast was one of the very few perks of public transport.

Brooke eventually arrived at the huge concrete block with windows that held her offices, taking the elevator up to the fifth floor, clocking in, shooting a lacklustre “hi” to the girls she sometimes chatted to and settling herself in at her desk. As office positions went, Brooke supposed it wasn’t awful- it was beside the window looking out onto the streets of the city below and it provided some much-needed light to her day. Logging on to her work laptop, she checked her emails (one from her boss about the article due for Friday, and one from Cheryl about money for flowers for somebody going on maternity leave that she’d never met or heard of and might not even have worked there).

Her working day had started.

University hadn’t prepared Brooke for graduate life. It hadn’t prepared her for the fact that friends moved away for jobs and houses and flats, internships and apprenticeships and postgrads and masters. It hadn’t prepared her for the fact that her group chat, once flooded with about a hundred messages if she so much as left it for five minutes, gathered dust as everyone’s lives took over. It hadn’t prepared Brooke for the feeling of missing out on something…Christ knows what. Perhaps living, making memories instead of simply swiping through ones already made on a Saturday night spent alone in bed with a bottle of wine to herself. It hadn’t prepared her for the yearning, the regret at having taken those days for granted when they were the happiest of her life and she hadn’t even realised it. If Brooke had known how soul-crushingly boring her life would be once she got that rolled-up piece of paper in a little tube she would’ve been dragging the girls out every single night. The all-encompassing sadness and longing for something better hit her harder on days like these, sepia ones with big clouds that hung ominously in the sky but never gave her the satisfaction of raining. She supposed that feeling had only been exacerbated by…

She didn’t need to remind herself of that.

It was ten o’clock in the morning and Brooke was staring out of the small office window stupefied with boredom when her phone vibrated. She jumped, pouncing on it as she always did whenever a notification went off. Her phone hadn’t been on silent for a full month. It hadn’t been the person she’d wanted or expected, but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless.

Silk: HEY GIRL LONG TIME NO SPEAK! I’M GONNA BE IN TOWN THIS AFTERNOON FOR AN INTERVIEW BUT I’LL BE FREE AFTER AND I’VE GOT A COUPLE HOURS TO KICK ABOUT UNTIL MY TRAIN. YOU WANNA GRAB DINNER? XXXXXXXXX

Brooke frantically made plans as if she was under a time limit, as if the moment would slip through her fingers like sand in an hourglass. She suggested some restaurants that she knew wouldn’t eat into either of their fragile graduate salaries and they settled on an Italian in the city centre, where the portions were big and the meals were tasty.

Brooke spent the rest of the day looking forward to meeting her friend. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Silky. Maybe it had been as long ago as New Year. Brooke smiled as she remembered the occasion; all of them cramming into Scarlet and Yvie’s flat to see in the year. Silky and Akeria had got too drunk off prosecco and screamed along to JLS, Scarlet and Yvie had both made a buffet to rival a hotel’s, and Nina, Monet, Vanessa and Brooke had all been tangled up in an almost relationship-ruining game of Articulate. Plastique had brought her new girlfriend Naomi to introduce to everyone and the girl had looked ever so slightly alarmed by the sheer chaos of everyone put together, but she’d laughed and joined in all the same.

That had been another happy memory. Those seemed to be hard to come by these days.

Work dragged. It always did. Brooke managed to write three sub-par articles that she sent to her editor at the end of the day anyway because hell, it was their job to turn carbon into diamonds. So when she hopped on the train back into the city, Brooke felt a little buzz in her veins that she hadn’t felt in a while.

It took her until she saw Silky standing outside the restaurant- hair in a bun full of flyaways, eyebrows still Sharpied on, in a pair of smart trousers and a floaty top- that Brooke realised that part of the reason she was so excited was because she’d been so lonely for such a long time. Well, only really a month, but it felt like a year. It had taken her living on her own to realise just how boring her life was without all her friends so constantly part of it, and now they all had their own lives and schedules it only served to show Brooke how empty her own was without…

Well. Without her.

As soon as Silky looked up from her phone and spotted Brooke her face lit up, and she fixed her with a smile and a screech that Brooke never thought she would have missed hearing but by God, she had.

“BROOKE LYNN!” she screamed, followed by lots of squealing and babbling as she wrapped the taller girl in a tight hug and refused to let go for at least twenty seconds. Brooke didn’t mind and she found herself clinging back, Silky suddenly the loudest anchor she’d never known she needed. When Silky finally pulled away she grabbed Brooke by both wrists, shaking her back and forth a little. “Oh my God, BITCH! Oh my God. FUCK! It’s so good to see you. How the fuck are you?”

Brooke appreciated that- Silky asking how she was. Yvie tiptoed around Brooke’s feelings when they texted and Brooke tiptoed around her and Scarlet’s perfect domestic bliss, both of the subjects too touchy for Brooke and the pair of them instead choosing to communicate via meme. Nina barely had time to breathe these days let alone text back, and Plastique…well, Plastique wouldn’t get it.

None of them would, she supposed.

“I’m…I’m surviving! I’m being an adult, I guess, and this is what life is now. How’re you?” Brooke swiftly moved the conversation on, and Silky took the hint and dropped both her wrists, pushing open the door.

“I’m on cloud fuckin’ nine girl. C’mon, let’s get some vino an’ I’ll catch you up on the world of Ms. Ganache! Think of it as a free episode of the reality TV show that is my life.”

“Let’s be real, Silk. If anyone’s life’s like a reality TV show right now, it’s mine,” Brooke raised her eyebrows, not quite committing to her own attempt at being lighthearted and instead couldn’t have sounded more bitter if she’d eaten an entire lemon with its rind on.

Silky, for her part, shrugged and let out a small sigh. “You ain’t wrong, girl, you ain’t wrong. But the offer of wine still stands, so let’s get sat. Where the damn hell is a waiter?”

They eventually got shown to their table and the conversation flowed frantically and excitedly, mirroring the wine. Silky filled Brooke in on every last detail of her life- most importantly, Brooke thought, was that Silky’s parents who she was back living with had adopted a cocker spaniel puppy called Pooch. Graduate life had been tough on Silky; she still hadn’t managed to get a job and so therefore couldn’t afford to rent a flat, so she’d moved back to her sleepy and uninspiring hometown. Living with her parents, she’d groaned, was beginning to chip away at her; the constant pressure they put on Silky to find a job, move out, get a boyfriend, and lose weight was beginning to grow wearing in the extreme, and Brooke didn’t blame her for being fed up.

“You know you’re always welcome to come chill at mine, you know. If it’s getting particularly rough,” Brooke suggested not-quite-casually, glad of the fact that loneliness didn’t have a scent because if it did she’d be reeking of it.

Silky gave a bashful smile, looking down at her half-eaten plate of spaghetti bolognaise in front of her. “You’re a doll, B, but you know I can’t do an hour on the train any time my Mama tuts at me buying a size XL of anything. In fact therapy’s probably cheaper than a train ticket here but realistically I don’t got the money for either, so…thanks, but in the words of Simon Cowell, issa no from me.”

“That’s okay. I get it, Mums are simultaneously the worst and the best people,” Brooke pulled a face. Thinking about her Mum made her wonder when the last time she texted her was. She felt a little ashamed for not knowing off the top of her head. “But hey, at least you got that interview, right? How did it go?”

“Alright,” Silky muttered in a non-committal way. It was the most un-Silky response Brooke thought she’d ever seen her friend give. It was weird and unpleasant; the Silky from uni would’ve yelled the place down about how she’d aced it, how they’d make her the chief editor right there and then, how she could write an article for them entirely in Wingdings and it’d still be the best thing they’d read all day.

Seemingly picking up on Brooke’s discomfort, Silky gave a small laugh. “I don’ know, boo…I used to be so sure of myself, I used to be so set in the fact that writing was somethin’ I was good at. When I was a kid I used to write these fuckin’ huge stories…pages an’ pages long that my teachers would pull big overexaggerated smiley faces at an’ squeal over an’ put big glittery star stickers on. I thought I was somethin’ special. An’ then uni, y’know…I was a small fish in a big pond- hell, a big fish in a big pond- but I still thought I was the shit even when I got bad grades. I thought my markers just didn’t get it, that they were the ones that were wrong. But now it’s like…”

Silky heaved a sigh and put her fork and spoon together neatly on top of her half-full plate. “…I can’t even get a job at a fuckin’ local rag, so why the hell am I even tryin’ with the big city offices?”

There was something about it all that made Brooke’s heart break all over again, the way that life after uni had worn Silky down to the extent where she didn’t even know if she was good at anything any more, didn’t have much visible self-worth left. Silky had always been the heart and soul of their group; she, Akeria and Vanessa, and in the time it had taken between now and graduation Akeria had become the polar opposite of Silky- so completely embroiled in her quest to become a barrister that she barely had time to reply to any of them any more.

And Vanessa…well. She knew where Vanessa was. Or rather, she didn’t.

Greece was a big country.

“You’re trying because you’re Big Silky Nutmeg Motherfucking Ganache,” Brooke said with a determination she’d not felt in a while. “Come on Silk, you’re you. If grad life has broken you then what the fuck hope is there for any of us?”

( Any of us sounded better than me , Brooke thought.)

“Kiki’s doin’ okay for herself,” Silky shrugged, her downtrodden tone counteracted by the way she picked up her fork again and twirled a single strand of spaghetti around it, eating it once she was finished speaking.

“Kiki’s vagina-deep in a hellish and all-consuming masters degree that’s probably eating her up from the inside out just as much as everybody else’s jobs are. I mean, are any of us doing anything we actually like?”

“Nina an’ Monet? They’da quit by now if they hated teaching so much.”

“Nina West would join the fucking scientologists and stick it out just so she could say she didn’t give up. She’s the final boss of the term mama didn’t raise a quitter . They’re having a hard time, Silk. We all are. It’s just tough because we’re all so busy and shit at keeping in touch that everybody thinks each others’ lives are perfect but…they’re really not.”

“Yvie and Scarlet seem pretty happy.”

Brooke’s face took on an involuntary look of distaste, so irritated and bitter was she at the image of them and their perfect flat and their perfect jobs and their perfect coupley life. “They’ll have something up, nobody’s life is that perfect. Maybe their relationship’s secretly falling apart or…something, fuck, I don’t know.”

There was a beat of silence in which Brooke finished the last little pocket of tortellini she’d ordered and Silky twirled another mouthful of spaghetti around her fork. She chewed, then shrugged thoughtfully, her head tilting a little. “Y’know we should go on holiday. Fuck all this shit off for a week, get away from it all.”

Brooke’s eyebrows raised in appreciation of the idea. She and the girls had never been away together before and the prospect of lying on a beach doing absolutely nothing under the blazing sun was an inviting one. “What, a girls’ trip? Like in Sex and The City?”

“Mhm. ‘Cept we go on an all-inclusive to the Med ‘stead of Mexico ‘cause ain’t none of us can afford that shit.”

“Except Plastique.”

“True. Fuck that bitch. She could prolly buy Mexico.”

Brooke laughed and for the first time in a good few months she felt a little flicker of excitement lick at her heart, so much so that she could see her pulse race at her wrist. She couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. “Oh my God. I’m so in. Let’s do it.”

“We have to get all the girls on board, though. Otherwise there ain’t no point.”

“Definitely. Where should we go? Spain’s always good.”

Silky had her phone out and was typing furiously. She paused as something presumably loaded, then her face lit up. “If we go the week after Nina an’ Monet finish up school for Summer we can get flights to Crete for £20 return.”

“Twenty, what the fuck? That can’t be right,” Brooke screwed up her face in disbelief, and Silky cocked an eyebrow at her as she showed her the proof on her screen. Conceding, Brooke shrugged. “That’s so good. I don’t want to know what that plane’s like though. They probably just stuff you all into a tin can and ping you into the air with a giant rubber band.”

Silky howled with laughter and thumped the table so hard that the wine sloshed about in their glasses, little tiny red tsunamis. As Brooke snorted in response purely to Silky’s own mirth, a small thought set off a little drip of dread that threatened to put out the excitement that had only just begun to burn in her chest.

“Where is Crete again?”

Silky let out an unimpressed breath from her nose. “Bitch, you got all the geography skills of a Love Island contestant. It’s just off the Greek coast. Kinda near Turkey too, but it’s Greece.”

Brooke felt her heart drop, Alton Towers Oblivion all over again. She blinked quickly, tried to hide her discomfort. “Well, we’re not going there.”

Silky gave a small sigh, a little hint of resignation or long-suffering to it that Brooke didn’t appreciate. But when she reached over the table and patted her hand on top of Brooke’s, she felt a little bit more understood, a little bit more validated.

“B, Greece is a big place.”

It was the exact same thing Brooke herself had thought earlier, except now it didn’t seem true. Now, with the prospect of going there, it seemed like the tiniest microcosm of society. The world was simultaneously too big and too small, and Brooke felt the cold drip in her heart get worse. “Silky…”

“Look. We ain’t exactly gonna pick the same place she’s at, are we?”

Brooke put her head in her hands and sighed. “She’s not there anymore.”

“What?”

“I phoned the hotel a week ago to try and speak to her. I was going to fly out, try and talk to her and fix things. They said she didn’t work there anymore. So I don’t even know where she is at all.”

Silky huffed, frowning and concerned. “I’m sorry, Brooke, this shit must’ve been hell.”

“You’ve got no idea.”

There was a pause as Silky pushed her food around her plate. “Crete’s small, but it ain’t that small. We still got a one in a million chance of bumpin’ into her if we go.”

“That’s still too small for my liking. Both the island and the chances.”

“Aight, one in a billion. Trillion. Point is, it ain’t gonna happen. An’ besides…” Silky waggled her eyebrows, flashing her phone screen at Brooke again. “Twenty pounds for the first week of the school holidays. This shit’s like gold dust.”

Brooke smiled slowly in spite of herself. Maybe Silky was right. And maybe it would be fun to swan around Greece, eat seafood and pretend to be in some knockoff version of Mamma Mia. Scratch that, it would be fun. She’d get to spend a week surrounded by her friends in the sun, which was what she badly needed at the moment.

Brooke was nodding before she knew it. “Okay, fine. Crete it is.”

“YES, bitch!” Silky cheered, loud enough to be heard by the entire restaurant and possibly the chefs in the kitchen too. “Now let’s get dessert. All this wine needs soaked up by a big slice of sticky toffee puddin’.”

It was easy to feel optimistic with Silky back being her loud and just-the-right-side-of-obnoxious self, and with a plate of tiramisu in front of her. But after they’d finished up, paid their bill and she’d hugged Silky goodbye at the train station, Brooke found the endorphins wearing off as she got back to her dark flat and into her cold bed. Maybe it was because she was finally coming down from the high of meeting up with a beloved friend, maybe it was because she knew she had another monotonous, greyscale day of work to get through tomorrow.

Or perhaps, Brooke thought as she turned over in bed, caught sight of the familiar rose-gold frame and blew it a kiss, she was simply missing her girlfriend.

If she could even call Vanessa that any more.

[wings-flames-and-thirium]

Cupcakes | Fatgum (Taishiro Toyomitsu)

A/N: AH!! Okay, so I was still at Uni today, but now I can finally post the story I’ve been working on! This is my first time writing for Fatgum and also my first NSFW piece. I tried to do both a SFW and a NSFW part, so, if you’re just up for some fluff, go for it and if you’d like to read something smutty, simply click the “keep reading” link. 👀

And thank you so much @lady-bakuhoe & @thunderdenki for proof and beta reading! You gave me the confidence to finally try and write smut. ILY guys <3

Warnings: nsfw, food play, oral sex

“Come on y/n, you got this”, you tried to give yourself a little encouraging pep-talk, but you couldn’t help but be shaky and nervous.

It was just another ordinary day as the sidekick of the BMI hero, Fatgum, but you finally wanted to show your gratitude towards him properly. You felt like you have learned so much and have improved significantly since you started working here. All the patrols, filling out police reports and occasional fights with villains that caused trouble gave you a much-needed boost. You weren’t exactly confident in yourself or your quirk to begin with. Even after you graduated from U.A you didn’t think that any hero agency would take you in. So, it took you by surprise that a popular hero like Fatgum accepted your request to be his next sidekick. His previous one had transferred to another agency, so he offered the place to other heroes, but you never imagined he would pick you.

You honestly owed him a lot. Not only the part of taking you as his sidekick beside him but most importantly, helping you with your self-esteem and strengthen your quirk. You had become way more skilled and even more confident overall. It was probably due to the amount of praise he gives you on the daily. He is known for being sweet and kind towards all people, be it civilians or his interns, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit more special. You felt you to had tied a pretty strong bond by working together for the past months and it seems like so did Fatgum. He really grew fond of you after spending so much time together, always talking to you and wanting to know how you’re doing. He took you out to eat on numerous occasions, even outside of work because he enjoyed your company so much. On one instance, he even let you stay at his place after a particularly hard fight with a villain which left you pretty badly bruised. He made sure to patch you up and take care of you afterward. Of course, these could all be attributed to his kind nature, but you couldn’t help but feel that there’s more to it. Or at least you hoped there was.

That’s why you decided to give him a small gift as a sign of your gratitude today. And what better gift you thought than cupcakes. You knew Fat’s favourites were Takoyaki, but he definitely wasn’t opposed to a sweet treat here and there. It was a small gesture, but it was something.

And that’s how you got into the situation you found yourself in this morning. Standing in front of his hero agency, legs shaky and a box filled with chocolate-strawberry cupcakes in your hands. You still struggled to go inside the building you went inside on the daily without problems for the last months. Something was holding you back, but you couldn’t quite grasp what it was. Maybe the gift was just a stupid idea, but then again, you were so grateful that he had been this supportive, so you couldn’t just go on without letting him know.

Deciding to stop before you started overthinking too much, you went inside the building and to the locker room to change into your hero costume, as you did every day. Fatgum had already told you yesterday that another patrol around the city was planned for today, so nothing too out of the ordinary. However, there was always the chance of running into a villain, but you were sure you both could handle it.

The day went by rather smoothly. When you returned, Fatgum told you to get changed because he discovered a new restaurant he wanted to go to with you.

However, you tried to take as much time as possible to put on your civilian clothes. Your eyes landed on the box in your locker, the thought of giving him the baked treats now more terrifying than before. Would he accept them?

After you changed, you walked into his office with the box hidden behind your back.

A desperate, but poor attempt at hiding it.

“Hey, y/n, watch'a got there?”

“Damnit”, you cursed under your breath.

You looked around the room nervously. Deciding it was probably no use in hiding this from him any further, you pulled out the red box from behind your back. Fatgum looked at you with a questioning look, brow slightly raised as you placed the box down in front of him.

“I-” you began but a lump formed in your throat, making it hard to speak. You fumbled with your thumbs for a moment before opening the box in one swift movement. “I made these for you”, you mumbled, a faint blush now spreading on your cheeks.

The pro hero’s eyes widened in surprise as he saw the contents of the box in front of him. He looked back up at you.

“Y/n… you made these cupcakes for me?” he asked.

You nodded, not able to answer yet. Your head hung low, hair, covering your shut eyes, cheeks fully flushed.

You finally took the initiative to speak, opening your mouth slowly, words just flooding out all of a sudden like they were your last, “I made these for you as… as a sign of my g-gratitude. Thanks to you I’ve grown so much in using my quirk and also in trusting myself. I’ve gotten so much stronger since you accepted me as your sidekick and I couldn’t just go on without letting you know that. I owe you so much. Everything you did for me. Just… thank you!”

You heard a chuckle from the man before you and looked up. His cheeks had reddened at your words and he just couldn’t hold back anymore. Fatgum stood up from his desk and pulled you into a tight hug. You could feel your body sink into his stomach as his hands squeeze your back.

“Y/n! That’s so sweet of you! By the way, how did you even know these were my favourite flavour? And you made them yourself? That’s amazing!”, he practically boomed and you could clearly feel how touched he was by your gift.

 "Uhm, Fat?“ you remarked as your body sunk into him even more, making it a bit hard to get back out of his grasp. Not that you had anything against his hugs.

"Ah, sorry,” he said, laughing nervously as he pulled back. “What I also wanted to say is: It’s been really great working with you. You’ve made so much progress. I’m proud of you and-” he paused for a moment, “You are a real cutie, you know that?”

Your face heated up at his compliments. “Thank you, Fatgum”

“Just call me, Taishiro, alright? I told ya that already”, he laughed. “Now, let’s see how these taste, shall we?”

He walked back to his chair and sat down.

“Wanna enjoy these together, cutie?” he asked in a low, almost seductive tone, patting on his thighs to signal you to sit down.

Your blush deepened at the nickname as you made your way towards him. As soon as you were in arms reach, he took your hand and pulled you into his lap. You couldn’t ignore the fact that you felt quite aroused, being able to be this close to him, your back resting against his big, soft belly.

He reached over and took a cupcake out of the box, putting it in his mouth. His eyes lightened up as he chewed on the sweet treat.

“Wow, those are amazing y/n! Simply delicious!”, he said between chews. “You should have some too, you made them after all”.

He grinned, grabbing two more cupcakes out of the box. He ate one while putting the other one to your lips, watching you intently as you took a bite out of it. He bit down on his bottom lip, not being able to deny how hot you looked when some strawberry frosting lingered on your lips.

“You got a lil’ something there, sweetcheeks,” he said in an almost growling manner. He turned your head towards him and whispered, “Let me get that off you, may I?”

Before you could answer, you felt his tongue on your lip, trailing along to wipe the remains of the frosting. You moaned as he now moved in to kiss you deeply. Both of you moaned when your tongues clashed together.

Too soon, though, he pulled away, “Hmm, I always, hah, wondered what else that pretty mouth of yours can do”

“I can show you”, you shyly replied, the kiss leaving you yearning for more.

He groaned in response and you took that as a yes. You moved up from the comfortable position in his lap and slowly began sliding down his body. He linked your lips together one last time before you moved to kneel down in front of his chair, working on his belt.

"Sorry to do this at a time like this, sweetheart, but your cupcakes are just too damn delicious”, he said while reaching to the box to get another one of your treats.

You hummed, unbuckling his pants and pulling them down in one movement. He was definitely a lot bigger than you imagined and had quite a thick girth as well. You could already see how his member twitched, turned on from your make-out session. The mere thought of how he would feel inside you sent bolts of pleasure to your core and you immediately started to kiss up and down his length, licking along the underside which made him bite back a moan. You managed to swallow a good amount of his length and started bobbing your head.

“Fuck, sweetcheeks, that’s it,” Fat moaned as you stopped you movements to suck on the sensitive head. Your tongue moved to his slit, collecting the precum that had gathered there, enjoying it’s salty but slightly sweet taste on your tongue.

He grabbed the fifth piece of cupcake and ate it without hesitation. Just as he swallowed the dessert, you moved to bob your head again but flinched when his cock suddenly swelled and grew a little in size.

“Don’t, ah, don’t push yourself, cutie. You’re already doing so well”, he said, his mouth filled with the sixth cupcake. His cheeks were flushed, pure lust hidden in his eyes.

You tried not to choke and relax your jaw, moving your mouth further down his length, to get as much in as possible. His thick cock swelled up a even more and you could feel it stretch out your mouth, making you drool. It took all of his willpower not buck his hips up into your warm cavern.

“If you keep doing that I- oh fuck, yes. You’re so good with that pretty little mouth of yours”, he praised, letting out another groan.

You did your best to adjust to the growing and swelling member in your mouth. You moved up to swirl your tongue over his slit again, as Fatgum quickly stopped you. He held your mouth open between his fingers now, coating his fingers with frosting and pushing them into you. You wasted no time sucking on his digits, tasting the sweet cream on them.

 Taishiro watched you closely. How you moved your skilled tongue around his fingers with closed eyes, sucking eagerly on them to get every last bit of frosting off. You opened your eyes to lock them with his, earning you a lustful groan.

While you continued to lick off the cream, you snuck both of your hands around his throbbing cock and started to pump it slowly. Fat withdrew his fingers as your pace increased, throwing his head back and let out another moan.

“Please”, he whimpered desperately, gripping your hair as he guided your head back to his cock.

Understanding, you encircled his member with your hot mouth again, sucking down hard.

“Ah, f-fuck!”, he almost screamed, “That’s it sweetcheeks, you’re doing so fucking well. You’re gonna make me-”

Hot liquid shot into your mouth, painting your throat in white, making you gag a little by the amount.

“Oh, shit”, Taishiro said worryingly as he exhaled deeply, coming down from his high. “Everything okay, y/n?”

He reached down to tilt your chin up, watching as you gulped down as much cum as you could manage. There was still a reasonable amount dropping out of your mouth

The pro-hero smiled, his cheeks flushed. “You’re such a cutie, you did so well, sweetcheeks. C'mere.”

With that, he pulled his boxers back up and pulled you back into his lap, bringing his arms around your waist to cuddle you tightly, kissing your cheek.

“You honestly make awesome cupcakes. Those were delicious. Are you going to make those again for me?”, he asked.

“Hmm, of course, Taishiro”, you hummed in response, letting your exhausted body sink into his belly.

“My sweetie,” he mumbled while grinning contently into your neck.

After a while you shuffled again, looking up at him “Do you want to eat the rest?”

“Thought you’d never ask”

[sarcastically-defensive17]

No - C. Hood

TRIGGER WARNING - ATTEMPTED SEXUAL ASSAULT, DATE RAPE, PROTECTIVE CALUM AND MENTIONS OF SEXUAL VIOLENCE. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THIS MAY TRIGGER YOU IN ANY WAY.

Thank you so much for this request. Sorry it took me so long, it was a lot to take in and I tried to do it justice in the best way I could. I am so sorry if any depictions are inaccurate, or if you don’t like this! Please do not read if this may trigger you in any way. Your own mental health is important so please take care of yourself. You will always have my support. No means no, and things depicted in this fic are NEVER okay.

Also, side note, so sorry for all of those who have sent in requests and are still waiting! I just finished uni for this semester so I will catch up on all requests during my break!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

The lights were flashing all around them. Strobe flashes dancing across the skin of each person crowded on the dance floor.

The bass of the music was thumping through the building, shaking the floor and reverberating through Y/N’s chest.

It was the final show of the tour, which called for a celebration. As such, Ashton had declared that the four men, and their significant others attend one of the more lowkey clubs in L.A. as to not draw much attention and to be able to enjoy themselves and celebrate the long tour they had put their all into.

The night was going well. Y/N danced until her skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat, Calum stayed by her side for most of the night until he was pulled away to do shots with Michael and Crystal, leaving his girlfriend with KayKay at the bar.

She had put effort into her appearance, donning a fierce up-do and a sultry red lip. Calum could barely keep his eyes away from her all night, and she ravished the attention.

She hadn’t been with them for most of the tour, as she had her own work commitments, so she was more than ecstatic to have her love home, and to be able to catch their last show and celebrate afterwards.

She had missed the man that she spent many days waking up next to. Her bed had never felt so empty, and her and Duke visibly longed for the presence of the Maori man.

Even now, as she stood with KayKay, her eyes stayed locked on Calum. He was focused intently on the conversation he was engaged in with Ashton and Michael. Crystal said something that they all perceived as funny, and Y/N’s face split into a wide grin as she watched Cal throw his head back in a laugh.

His cheeks rounded more, allowing the apples of the muscles to stand out. His teeth were on show, an infectious display that could force many to mirror him. His eyes shrunk, lids overtaking until they looked near shut, crinkles at the corners as evidence of a lifetime of laughter and joy. His smile was her favourite thing to gaze upon.

KayKay leaned in close to distract her from her stares, near shouting, yet her words were still muffled by the thumping bass and the sound of voices all around them.

Both women had grown accustomed to the struggle of hearing over loud music, as they had both spent much time in the crowd watching their men perform.

“I’m going to head to the bathroom. Don’t get into too much trouble,” her purple haired friend winked, sending her an air kiss before strutting away.

Y/N and KayKay had been close since they met, and the former couldn’t thank her best friend enough for introducing her to Calum.

She watched her friends retreating figure before casting her eyes towards the bar and sending a smile to the bartender who placed her cocktail down. They had a tab going for the band, so her card was refused as she offered to pay.

A hand slid across her lower back and she leaned back into the feeling of the large appendage, believing it to be Calum.

“Hey pretty baby,” a voice whispered in her ear. It was an eerie tone that sent the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. Her body involuntarily jerked away from the person and met a smug grin on a pasty complexion.

The man in front of her would have been slightly attractive if she hadn’t already given her everything over to a man she believed to be twice the person that another could be. She was deeply in love with Calum, and no other could even begin to amount to the admiration she held for him.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing all alone?” The man transitioned his grin unto a smirk, and Y/N found herself disliking the feeling of his blue eyes on her. They traversed up and down her body, lingering on her chest.

“I’m here with my friends and my boy-“

“Can I buy you a drink?” He winked, disregarding her attempt to shut him down and the fact that she had a drink in her hand.

She sighed, placing her cup between the two of them on the bar, “No, thank you. I already have one. I’m really not interested, I’m sorry-“

He stepped closer to her, enveloping her in his scent of BO cutting through the overdone cologne. “You don’t need to play hard to get with me, baby. I can see that you’re dying for a good time.” He winked and she found herself wanting to throw her drink in his face.

She cringed, looking over to the direction of the bathrooms in hopes to see KayKay come out but she frowned at the sight of her friend with Ashton and Calum.

A sigh left her red tinted lips as she turned back to the man in front of her. She picked up her drink and downed the remainder of it before fixing him with a deep frown. “Im sorry, I’m really not interested. Please learn to take a hint.” Her cocktail glass clinked against the bar as she rushed to the bathroom.

She emptied her bladder, washed her hands and just stared at her reflection in the mirror. She always felt uneasy when sly people resisted taking a hint, and she wanted nothing more than to head to Calum and spend the rest of the night with him and their friends.

Her stomach felt like it was flipping within her abdomen and a wave of drowsiness overtook her. She hadn’t felt so dizzy in a long time and she was struck with confusion at the sudden wave. She had been in the bathroom for maybe 15 minutes, and it had come on so suddenly.

Her eyelids felt unnecessarily heavy. When she blinked, she was sure her eyes stayed closed for at least 10 seconds. She hadn’t felt like that before, and it brought anxiety to the top of her stomach. Her hands were shaky, almost numb as she lifted them to brush sweat from her, now glistening, forehead.

It was a struggle to pull the door open, but she breathed a sigh of relief as two women opened the offending blockage allowing for her escape. She needed to find Calum, something wasn’t right.

She had only downed two drinks, no where near enough to be this intoxicated, nor had she taken anything that sketchy people in the club had been offering.

Her stomach was flipping and she could feel her pulse pounding beneath her skin. The thudding was vibrating through her skull, doing nothing to quell the dizziness.

Calum was over the other side of the club, she knew that much, yet everywhere she stepped she connected with another person.

Hands had brushed across her feverish body, sending her nerves alight and the lighting was beginning to make her eyes ache.

She wandered across the dance floor, eyes searching for her brown-eyed boyfriend but to no avail.

She had grabbed many people to save herself from falling over, her heels doing nothing for her legs that felt as shaky as a baby deer’s.

A hand secured around her upper arm as she fell into another body. The familiar blue eyes stared down at her and she tightened her grip on the man.

“Luke! Where’s Calum?” She slurred, standing as best she could with her current condition. “Somethings wrong. D’know what happened.”

Luke knew that Y/N wasn’t okay. He had known the girl for a long time, and had spent much time with her, as she was the girlfriend of one of his best friends. Y/N wasn’t the type to get drunk often. He had only seen her have more than three drinks once, and even then, she maintained her composure almost perfectly.

This was out of the ordinary.

Sierra was alarmed immediately. Y/N looked physically sick, but what set her off more was the man that looped his arm around her friends waist.

“There you are, baby. I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” The main exclaimed, and Y/N gave him a tired look, unable to remove the offending arm.

“Excuse me, who are you?” Sierra gripped Y/N’s arm below Luke’s slowly tightening grip. Neither of them knew the man, and Sierra had a guess as to what his intentions were.

“I’m her boyfriend. Who do you think you are?” He glared at the two people, a smug grin on his face that sent a chill of anger down both Sierra and Luke’s spines.

“Si, go get Calum,” Luke told his girlfriend and she rushed off immediately, her small frame moving through the crowd quickly. “Look, mate, just let her go.”

“Are you deaf, asshole? She’s my girlfriend!” The man was getting angrier as the seconds passed and Y/N fell further and further out of consciousness.

“Bullshit.” Luke snapped. “What did you do to her?” His eyes were flaming with protectiveness. Y/N was part of his family and he felt every bone in his body wanting to hurt the man who had hurt her.

“I did nothing,” he grinned. “Now, if you don’t mind, my girl and I need to head home. As you can see, she’s a little under the weather.” His grin was sly, slimy. His eyes had a deeper motive hidden underneath the smirk and Luke’s stomach dropped at what he could imagine was going through the mans head.

“Like fuck you are,” a voice growled from behind the men, and the man who held Y/N turned with her body slumped against his in her now unconscious state. “Get your hands off of her before I break them.” Calum’s jaw was clenched, and he wanted nothing more than to throw his fist into the guys face but he wouldn’t do so while he had Y/N. He wouldn’t dare risk her getting hurt more so than she already had.

The man looses his grip slightly and Sierra grabbed a hold of Y/N. KayKay was on her other side, both supporting the woman as they led her outside and away from the men.

The man visibly retracted. His eyes became flitty, and his Adam’s apple jumped as he swallowed heavily. Calum easily had some height on him, and the addition of both Ashton and Michael behind him definitely did nothing to lessen the building fear.

“What did you do to her?” Calum growled once again, every fiber of him spinning with anger at the man who tried to take advantage of his girl. “What the fuck did you think you could do to her?”

The man stumbled over his words, stepping back slowly, only to hit into Luke who remained behind.

“I slipped something into her drink. Look man, I was just looking for a good time, s’all. I didn’t mean anything by it.” The man raised his hands, face paling.

“You didn’t mean anything by it? Well that just makes everything fine!” Calum snarls, laughing sarcastically with malice shaking his every syllable. He stepped closer, trapping the pervert between himself and the other guys. “If I ever catch you trying that shit with Y/N or anybody else, I will make you wish you never had the thought to do that. You think you can just roofie and rape people and excuse it? You’re fucking lucky that you didn’t get her out of the door.”

The man was shaking in fear now, his body trembling as he fought to draw his eyes away from the angry Maori in front of him.

“I have half a mind to beat the shit out of you right now, but I need to do make sure my girlfriend is okay. If I ever see your face again, you won’t know what fucking hit you, you piece of shit,” Calum snarled, his face so close to the man that he could feel the hot breath on his cheek as he was threatened.

Luke nodded at Calum over the head of the man, signaling for him to leave as the guys waited for the security guards being sent their way.

Calum was alight was rage. He wanted to cry, scream, beat the shit out of that guy and apologise to Y/N all at the same time.

How could he leave her alone? How could somebody think it was acceptable to do that to another person? The night could have ended horribly for her, and he would never be able to forgive himself if it had have.

Y/N was unconscious as the women helped Calum take her home, and she slept the entire night. Calum could barely will himself to walk away from her, let alone sleep. He slept for barely 3 hours that night.

A groan startled him as the sun rose, Y/N sitting up slowly. His shirt was polled around her legs, and she had dark circles underneath her eyes.

She was upright for barely a second before she was stumbling to the bathroom, followed by Calum who sat beside her with her hair secured in his hands.

He had made sure to get her out of her party clothes last night and into one of the many shirts she had stolen from him. His heart broke even more as he watched her empty the contents of her stomach.

The retching ceased after a few minutes and she attempted to stand, but failing on shaky legs.

“Hold on, baby,” Calum told her, grabbing a cup from the cabinet above the sink and filling it with water for her. “Here.”

“Thanks...” her hand was pressed against her forehead, memories of the night before appearing in fragments in her mind. She knew she hadn’t had much to drink, but it took her a few minutes to remember what happened the night before.

The feeling of the venomous blue eyes watching her. The tangy taste of her drink. The heaviness of his hand on her waist and the way her eyelids refused to stay open.

She felt as if she had been struck by the worst motion sickness possible, and guilt washed over her as she thought of how her actions must have ruined the previous night.

“Are you okay?” Calum moved his hand towards her slowly, waiting for any sign of disapproval before gently resting his hand on her knee.

She shook her head, trying to stop tears from falling as she thought of the man from the previous night. “I’m so sorry.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she didn’t raise her eyes to meet his.

If she had have, she would have seen the perplexed frown that he adopted. “What for?”

She sighed, hoping he would simply be mad at her, allowing her to forgo the explanation that she thought obvious to both of them.

“I should have been careful last night. I was stupid and because of me, I bet the night was ruined.”

“You should have been careful?” Calum gaped, watching as she softly nodded. “Babygirl you shouldn’t have to be careful.”

She rose her head, catching his eyes as he sat on the bathtub edge, staring down at her frame that was resting against the Basin cabinet. She cricked an eyebrow, confusion setting in her features.

“But I didn’t pay attention to my drink. If I hadn’t have found Luke-“

“A woman should be able to go to a damn bar and not need to worry about some sleezebag taking advantage of her, Y/N. I’ve been fighting with myself all night. I shouldn’t have left you alone, and I am so sorry that I left you to get into a position like that on your own, but you should be able to be fucking safe, on your own, in a fucking public space.” Anger was coursing through his body once again and he clenched his fists together, resting his forehead on them to try to hold back the angry tears. “A woman shouldn’t need to constantly have somebody witness her to guarantee her safety, and I want to ring that little assholes neck for thinking he could try and take advantage of you like that. I should have, but I didn’t. I should have been there for you, and with you. If you hadn’t have found Luke then I would never forgive myself.”

His shoulders began to shake softly, tears dripping down his forearms and onto the times beneath his feet.

She sat up on her knees and placed her hands on his shoulders to still his movements. Her own tears had been flowing for so long that she hadn’t realized the cool wetness on her flesh.

“Calum, baby, you have nothing to feel guilty about,” she met his brown eyes with her own orbs, his head shaking in disagreement as he sniffed. “You did absolutely nothing wrong. The only one to blame is that scum bag. I’m

going to report him today. I don’t want him to think he can try shit like that with any other person.”

“Want me to come with you?” He used his hand to brush some tears from her cheeks.

“Of course I do. I always want you with me, Cal,” she whispered to him, brushing the tears as they fell.

“I love you, and I’m so sorry that you went through that. I’m sorry I wasn’t there from the beginning.”

“It’s not your responsibility to watch over me constantly because other men think they have the right to do what they want to women whenever they want.” She smiled softly, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You have nothing to apologise for, my love. I’m just thankful that I have somebody like you to help me through this.”

“You’ve always got me, baby.” His eyes bored into hers with intensity, and she shifted forward to press her forehead against his.

“I need to thank Luke and Sierra. Between them and you, I basically have my own team of beautiful superheroes by my side.”

Calum laughed softly, standing and pulling her to her feet beside him, encircling her in his arms and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll always protect you, baby.”

Tag List: @mantlereid @theanswertoeverythingisl0v3 @starshonerose @another-lonely-heart

[bulletproofscales]

Could you do a Yoonseok fic where they are uni teachers and they teach in the same room? Like when Yoongi's class finishes, Hoseok's class comes in after and Yoongi has a bad habit of overstaying to get a glimpse of the other cute teacher and they just end up falling in love somehow?

– hello!! i dont know why i had such a hard time writting this request???? like its simple its cute, its lovely. i just struggled so much to find a direction to take it form. so i really hope this fufilled your vision it came out supper fluffy!! i didnt make it feederism because the pormpt didnt specify, theres like hints to a chubby yoongi if you squint . anyways enjoy!!!

3.8k words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30115707

Yoongi loves literature. 

He’d go as far to say, literature is his favorite thing in the world. 

No, he hasn’t read fiction since he was in highschool, and he hasn’t read fiction voluntarily ever.

What’s that got to do with anything?

When the university offered Yoongi this job as the professor in Thermodynamics, they had assured him his schedule wouldn’t clash with the other Calc II classes he gave during the week; always with a break in between. Which meant, the professor always has at least 2 hours in between his classes to use for research purposes. 

Yes… Research purposes. 

LIsten he hadn’t meant for it to get this far. Yoongi had only curiously stayed as he saw the new professor who was replacing the old lady who gave World Contemporary Literature after his class. The man looked young, about his age, delicate complexion, angelic face. 

His name is Jung Hoseok, and Yoongi had only talked to him for a couple of minutes, welcoming him to the university before leaving for his office. Though he was later very frustrated to find out, he could barely get any work done with his mind playing unhelpful reruns of his exchange with professor Hoseok. The most reasonable thing would be to try and not cross paths with him again for the sake of his investigation, right?

Yoongi is not nearly as strong-willed as he needs to be to accomplish that. 

In fact his time at the World Contemporary Literature class, only prolonged after that encounter. Waiting until the class was full to make his leave, or sometimes waiting until Hoseok started the class, or sometimes even staying for a bit at the front row before leaving. By now, his two bi-weekly classes of Contemporary Literature had become part of his routine. Staying at the back of the class where he admired the young man, as he walked around giving the class diligently; impressively capturing a large number of students who were now actively interested in it. 

Yoongi had been captured, in a different way. 

“You’re staying over this class too?” Hoseok’s voice is soft spoken, not upset but just lightly accusatory. It’s been weeks, of course he noticed Yoongi staying over every single class. And as startled as Yoongi is, he still considers himself lucky that the professor doesn’t sound annoyed. 

“I just–I really…” Think Yoongi, think of anything. “I’ve just really been trying to get into literature.” He manages to smile softly through his lie. And it seems to work, because Hoseok’s expression is widening and then grinning in excitement. 

“Who would have thought!” He beams cheerfully. “Well you’re free to come as many times as you want. Though I might have to start testing you along with the rest of my students?” Hoseok jokes, or at least Yoongi hopes he is joking. He just laughs it off and goes to his usual seat in the back, where he will be doing nothing except staring as professor Hoseok gave his class; without actually registering anything that’s being said. 

Lucky for Yoongi, the test never comes. But him and the literature professor grow closer, Hoseok starts inviting him out to have their lunch break together; since he knows for a fact Yoongi gave his class first thing in the morning and then stayed until near noon in Hoseok’s lecture. And just like had accepted defeat before, the older agrees without a second doubt.

In comparison to his typical lunches stuffed in the Sociology department with Namjoon and Seokjin, those bi-weekly 40 minutes he spends with Hoseok are… so refreshing. He remembers fearing that the literature professor would ask Yoongi what he thought of the class, but that wasn’t the case at all. 

Long forgotten were his heated debates about deeply rooted issues within humanity over lunch. Now Yoongi couldn’t wait until it was wednesday or friday, and he could just converse with Hoseok. Of course it started out like it typically would, professors talk, complaining about students, complaining about their superiors, how they got into teaching. But somehow Hoseok deemed him worthy, and just opened himself up for Yoongi. Nothing too dramatic, but the engineering professor found himself walking down the campus and being able to register what Hoseok’s favorite sitting spot was, under what specific tree; because he had told him. Or pushed himself to get weird stares by his colleagues for grabbing one donut too many because he recognized the strawberry filling ones that were Hoseok’s all time favorites and was considering dropping them off to him. 

It had been half a year, and by now, Yoongi could say he had opened up to Hoseok as well. He was more than happy to take his role as a listener to everything the younger had to say. As useless as it was, Yoongi would soak it up even when he didn’t mean to; and he had come to accept that. But, Hoseok didnt let it happen, always attentive, always considerate; asking Yoongi’s input into anything their conversation had decided to settle on. Asking for Yoongi’s favorite spots on campus, or what donuts did he reach for first when they brought some into the professors’ room. 

And Yoongi… he soaked up all that attention Hoseok gave him, too. 

It didn’t take long until they learnt the other’s schedule, sometimes using their own breaks to stop by the other’s class; just to see one another during the day. He’ll never forget the first time Hoseok came to visit as Yoongi was finishing one of his own classes, and widened at the different graphs and drawings that took over all the chalkboard. 

They were definitely friends, of course they were by now, but Yoongi couldn’t help but think that their friendship had something more special to it. Maybe it was the way the older just felt safe and soothed whenever he was talking with Hoseok, or the way Hoseok didn’t shy away from showing how much he enjoys Yoongi’s company. 

They were friends but they treated each other, just a little bit softer than the rest of their friends.

Which didn’t have to mean anything, of course. Different people have different dynamics and it just so happens Hoseok takes out the gentler side of the engineering professor. Just like it also happens to be Hoseok the one who takes out all the butterflies caged in Yoongi’s chest.

Well… maybe this different dynamic does mean something… To Yoongi at least; and he has come to accept that fact. He had reached an age where he didn’t really think he could get a crush again, yet here he is. 

Considering his feelings, he had felt a little hesitant to initiate anything with Hoseok outside their work hours; a little voice in his head telling him not to abuse the younger’s friendliness because of his own ill intentions. Hoseok made him happy as is, and he should be content with that. 

Surprisingly it’s the literature professor who, during the peak of exam season, offers to hang out and correct exams together. The little voice reminded Yoongi of his ‘ill intentions’ , but, like he keeps saying: he is simply a little weaker when it comes to Hoseok. And that first time, getting to see Hoseok outside their university, at the doorstep of his apartment which he had organized very last minute, casual clothes, beer pack in hand, gentle smile on his face. Yoongi feels himself fall in love all over again. 

Yeah… He is in love, by now he had come to accept it. 

Maybe he should be nervous, but he wasn’t, not really. How could he be when Hoseok had become his safe space? No amount of romantic feelings could change that. 

They laugh, they drink, they revise exams, they drink again, laugh some more; Yoongi finds out Hoseok is a lightweight. Third beer bottle is halfway done as the literature professor slurredly tries to write feedback onto the back of an exam.  

“You doing alright there?” Yoongi can’t help the amusement and endearment in his voice. 

All he gets is a slurred hum, and that’s all the response Yoongi needs. Still grinning as he stands up and comes back with a glass of water to Hoseok, who seems to be in some sort of trance staring at the universe. “Drink up, handsome.” He swears it was meant to sound teasing, but a blush betrays Yoongi spreading on his cheeks. 

Hoseok doesn’t seem to dwell on it, thank fuck; rather focuses on drinking his water slowly and in a way that is too endearing for Yoongi’s heart to bare. He watches as Hoseok downs the glass, trying hard not to focus on the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down, stop staring at his neck in general, creep, and rather rubb the younger’s back. 

He finishes the glass and he leans his head on the table groaning. 

“I think you’ve done enough grading for tonight.” He chuckles enamoured. “Think you can take a ride home?” Hoseok still has his cheek squished against the table and eyes fully closed when he nods. “Ok, Seok, up.” He instructs softly, squatting down as his hands reach for Hoseok’s middle. Surprisingly cooperative, Yoongi manages to get the younger buckled up in the passenger seat of the car looking dazedly out the window. 

It's… pleasant, Yoong thinks. The silence is always comfortable with them, and he gets to drive around the deserted city with simply the knowledge that Hoseok is by his side. He makes sure to take his liberties stealing glances at the younger, his face angelical even when confusedly staring into nothingness. 

“Here we are.” Yoongi feels the need to announce it given they’ve stopped and the drunk man hadn’t made any sign of moving… He still hasn’t. “Uhm… Hoseok?” He offers trying his best not to smile a little amused at the situation. 

It looks like it physically costs effort for him to open his lips to speak. “Can you make sure… I actually go to bed?” His eyes barely meet Yoongi’s, quickly glancing somewhere else. It could be the older’s mind playing tricks on him, but even with the white street lights Hoseok’s cheeks still manage to have a beautiful pink tint. He is blushing, and it only makes Yoongi’s smile spread wider. 

“You don’t seem like the type of drunk to cause any trouble.” He questions with a smile that already gives away his answer to Hoseok’s request. 

“No, but I’ll fall asleep halfway into my apartment.” The younger man manages to smile lazily, dainty hand settles on his shoulder. And Yoongi feels himself swallowing thickly, no person should be allowed to look this good when they’re this pathetically drunk. 

“That adds up.” He chuckles getting out of the car and turning around to open Hoseok’s door for him. “Look at that, you unbuckled your own belt. Impressive.” Yoongi teases as he takes Hoseok’s hand to help him stand. 

“I’m drunk, not 5.” His playful tone and little smile makes the idea of Hoseok being annoyed at him less convincing. He is taller than Yoongi, yet he feels so much smaller when he is tiredly leaning his weight onto the older, a protective arm wraps around the literature professor as they walk inside Hoseok’s apartment complex. 

Yoongi tries his hardest not to blush when the doorman eyes the two oddly and Hoseok mumbles a sleepy: “He’s with me.” with his head buried deep into the engineering professor’s shoulders. And keeps it there all through the elevator ride… and all  through their slow walk around the hallway… and it’s still there as Hoseok clumsily tries to type in the security code for his door. 

He doesn’t want it to go away, the weight of the younger’s head on his shoulder giving him a sense of pride that makes Yoongi want to swell his chest up. But Hoseok keeps failing to type in his code, with his nose buried into Yoongi’s neck. 

“I think you might need to look at the keyboard to actually type the code.” His hand rubs up and down Hoseok’s side, with a smile that’s too fond; though the younger can’t see from where his head is resting. 

Hoseok groans. “Can’t we just be comfy?” The older specifically loves the way Hoseok assumes this position is comfortable for the two of them. 

“Wouldn’t we be much more comfortable on your bed?” Yoongi swears he didn’t mean to say that. And he knows if the other were sober, he definitely wouldn’t brush past it. 

Drunk Hoseok, however; he hums as if thinking it through “Yeah… We would be more comfy there…” He sounds so serious about it, like he was actually considering just staying here for the rest of the night, comfortably settled against Yoongi; the older can’t help giggling. Too cute. 

“Put the code, then.” He urges, big hand squeezing at where it is settled on Hoseok’s waist. 

It’s his first time going into the literature professor’s apartment, it is very neat, even if it’s filled to the brim with books. Yoongi tries to take in as much as he can, while still helping Hoseok balance himself as he takes off his shoes and coat: the hanged pictures, the bookshelves, the toys. Hoseok owns toys: stuffed animals and figurines adorning his couch and bookshelves; Yoongi is a little stunned as they walk by. He never would have guessed. 

“Room is at the end of the hallway.” Hoseok mumbles, not only his head falling back on the older’s shoulder, but his arms wrap around Yoongi’s middle. 

Right… He has to make sure Hoseok gets to bed. 

There’s a knot at Yoongi’s stomach, but he nods; slowly walking towards the closed door. Despite seeming impossible, his room has more bookshelves, bed adorned with a few more odd looking plushies. It’s so Hoseok, the older can help his heart as it does a little flip. The younger settles on his bed, sitting down before letting his back fall. Yoongi doesn’t know what to do with himself; staring feels a bit inappropriate, yet he doesn’t know if leaving him in such a state is much of an option. 

“Should I…-” 

“I just sleep in underwear.” 

They both speak at the same time. Yoongi’s cheeks blush a furious red, Hoseok seems unfazed. He already managed to get the younger to bed. After all this time he had meant Yoongi had to tuck him in?!

“O–Oh, okay.” He doesn’t know what else to say. Then, similar to a toddler, Hoseok raises up his arms. It takes Yoongi a full second to realize; and when he does, his face gets simpossibly redder. With timid hands, he slides Hoseok’s shirt off his torso delicately. Yoongi is pretty sure he isn’t breathing, but he can’t bring himself to do so, the moment too fragile for him to possibly ruin it. The little voice in his head tells him it’s immoral to stare, but he does anyway; admiring Hoseok’s lightly tanned, slim body. 

It seems he is Yoongi only one of the two with the professor-chubs, huh. 

His blatant staring is interrupted by Hoseok popping his torso heavily onto the bed, legs extending forward in Yoongi’s direction. The older feels his heart stop completely. Yoongi is so thankful that Hoseok isn’t sitting upright so he can’t see the tremble of his hands as they hover above the button of his jeans. 

He has to hurry, otherwise Hoseok will get suspicious, and he’ll notice Yoongi making things weird. 

He feels like a teenager all over again.

He undoes the button, slowly pulling the zipper down. Yoongi’s slim fingers slide barely underneath the waistband of his jeans and start tugging down. He tries his best to be gentle, but with Hoseok’s dead weight on the bed it’s a little hard; college professors aren’t known for their strength. So he makes the younger’s body rock back and forth on the bed until he gets the pants out of the pool by his calves and finally takes it out. 

Huh, Yoongi totally would have considered Hoseok a boxer’s guy.

He somehow feels he shouldn’t say that outloud, or shouldn’t hint at paying attention to Hoseok’s underwear at all. 

Or maybe, he is just overestimating drunk Hoseok. 

“All done, you just need to wash your teeth.” He says simply instead, and the man plopped down gorans dramatically. His thighs even clench at the loudness of it, not that Yoongi was staring. 

“I need to get up?! Again?” He looks up at Yoongi with a disbelieved expression, like suddenly brushing your teeth was the most ridiculous idea anyone could propose. Yoongi has to hold back a laugh. “Why didn’t you make me go brush before I laid down!?” He sounds so insulted but his lips have the softest pout to them. 

“You plopped on the bed before I got the chance to, genius.” Yoongi finds himself rolling his eyes, all the tension that had accumulated in his body minutes before had dissipated. Even with so much of the expanse of Hoseok’s sin staring back at him, so much so quickly that Yoongi had never gotten to see; the man in front of him is still the safest place. “Come on, Seokie, up.” It feels like a dejavu from getting him out of Yoongi’s apartment. 

Hoseok’s hands are so dainty in his own, he pulls him up gently; chests bumping together softly. Soft chuckles as their noses brush, Yoongi can feel his own adoring smile. “Careful.” He mumbles, his hands squeezing into Hoseok’s. All the response he gets is a grumble, eyes barely opened as they stare directly at Yoongi, shamelessly. 

As sleepy as his gaze is, and as cute as the pout on his lips is, Yoongi can’t help it but feel somewhat intimidated, there’s something blatant about the way the younger is looking at him. And even if he can’t put a name to it, it still manages to make Yoongi shiver the slightest bit. 

He wastes no more time of Hoseok being forced to stand and rather guides him slowly towards the bathroom. Graceful Hoseok, elegant, diligent inside the classroom, that same man is looking down at his feet with a concentrated pout and frown as he takes heavy steps following Yoongi. It’s endearing enough for a giggle to slip out past his lips. 

The bathroom is only a little cramped but, it’s not like it matters; Yoongi was already holding Hoseok close to him already. Lets the younger lean against him as he has to balance his sleepy legs into picking up toothbrush and toothpaste. Yoongi allows himself to stare, even if it’s quiet and obvious he is doing so. There’s something so domestic about the sight, he can’t tear his eyes away; exposing himself through the evident adoration in his stare. 

Hoseok doesn’t pay him any attention, washing his teeth with sleepy long blinks. Only noticing Yoongi through the mirror once he is washing his lips, sleepy as he straightens back up, and when he is back to leaning against the older, he turns his head to face him. Face looking sleepy and ethereal as ever. 

And Yoongi must have gotten too caught up staring at the sleepy glimmer of Hoseok’s eyes because nothing could have prepared him for the slow, soft meeting of the younger’s lips on his. 

Hoseok kisses him like he is the most precious thing in the world; a gentle peck that makes his eyes flutter close relaxed. Not Yoongi though, his eyes are wide like plates until the younger separates. 

His mouth opens and closes a few times before he manages to speak. “Why….Why did you do that?” Yoongi has a hard time finding his own voice, opting for a soft whisper. Part of him thinking this was all just an elaborate hallucination. 

“I didn’t want to do it with bad breath!” He whines like he was being antagonized for doing something completely normal; and not kissing your friend/coworker. 

Yoongi doesn’t know what to do with himself, or with the Hoseok laying against his body, staring at him expectantly. He feels his face begin to heat up with what is most probably a deep blush. “Uhm… Well I appreciate that.” He tries to say as neutral as possible, getting his hold back on Hoseok to get him to his bed. 

The younger is pliant in Yoongi’s hold, letting himself be dragged as he tiredly lets his head fall against Yoongi’s chest. “You appreciated the kiss too though, right?” Hoseok’s voice is gentle, unsure. And it probably doesn’t help that the older one takes a second to reply; too busy trying to control the tug at his heartstrings. 

He is back to guiding the younger out of his own bathroom, only replying once he manages to set Hoseok down on the bed as gracefully as he can; only then, when worried self conscious eyes are staring up at Yoongi. 

“I do appreciate it, so much.” He mumbles gently with a gummy smile spreading his lips softly. And Hoseok looks so visibly relieved by this, it earns a chuckle from the older. Yoongi is leaning over, hand pressed to the pillow so close to Hoseok’s soft locks it could just– fuck it. 

He runs his hands through the younger’s hair, just to see the way his eyes close relaxed by it. “I’ll get going, yeah?” A little voice in his head urges him to not leave Hoseok’s side, to stay until he gets another kiss from those addictively soft lips. 

But another, more rational, voice tells him he’ll have all the time in the world to do that. 

Hoseok looks unconvinced though, it takes an endeared smile and a kiss at his temple for him to look somewhat pleased. “Fine.” Yoongi has to hold himself back from leaning to peck the pout off his lips. “Will I see you tomorrow?” 

“Text me when you wake up.” 

Yoongi can feel how different everything is from the moment he watches Hoseok walk towards him at the little campus cafe. His eyes are a little groggy stil, and a pout is still on his lips; he looks like he has a hangover, basically. 

And Yoongi is still so, so stupidly enamoured by this man. 

“Morning.” 

“How are you so upbeat? You aren’t even a morning person.” Hoseok grumbles, obviously cranky, taking a seat beside Yoongi instead of infront of him. Their shoulders touch as well as their thighs. 

“I know this may come as a surprise to you, but not all of us get drunk from a couple of beers.” Yoongi teases softly, turning to side eye him. 

“I’m not sorry.” He smiles turning to face the older. Their noses brush similarly to how they did last night. Now it should be different though, the morning fills the small cafe of busy people trying to get on with their day, not private, not imitate, not one bit romantic. They don’t need it to be, though; they managed to fall in love in the simplest of ways; through Yoongi’s obvious love for literature.

[kirislut]

hihi just sliding in after being away for 2848392 years 🚶🏽‍♀️👀 i haven’t been v productive or motivated to do anything at ALL, hence my v limited interaction, i think you’ve read some of the shit i’m going thru that i told yssa about KFKSKSKS anyways it’s just me being insecure, getting rejected from my dream internship agency that i legit built the next 5 years of my life around getting accepted there and now have to reconsider all my plans that weren’t even v concrete or confirmed in the first place and trying desperately to get my life together again AHAHA. i just went for a walk/run today (mostly walk) since i haven’t run in like maybe 2-3 months but then it started raining so i had to go home so i didn’t ruin my headphones or phone 🤪 ummm i’m feeling pretty shitty overall idk i haven’t had a job all year bc of the stresses of online uni and just living in quarantine w my parents after i was practically independent all last year and now i’m anxious about whether i can get a job next year considering that i was unemployed for so long. i’m applying to another internship place but i keep procrastinating bc i’m scared i’ll get rejected even tho waiting will probs increase those chances, i’m now only 4 books behind my 2020 reading goal schedule so at least i’m a bit ahead in that and my love for reading has come back after uni stumped all my energy and i’m tryna get back on my fitness grind after gaining all this weight and being unmotivated so yeah KFKSKSK omg this is such a negative update i’m so sorry. istg i’ve had good times this year too but it’s hard to see that in big picture ig. i’m just planning heaps for next year, even mundane things like a new daily routine that acc involves going outside! anyways, how’ve you been Meg? i’m sure this year’s been tough for you too, it’s been tough for everyone, but sometimes it’s hard to not feel isolated in your struggles idk in other news i have that tiktok sound “fuck being good i’m a bad bitch 😤 i’m sick of mfs tryna tell me how to live 🙄💅🏽” stuck in my head so i’m tryna manifest that energy - 🤡

WBXJWJ HI CLOWN ANON i’m sorry things haven’t been working out for you,, the one thing i can just suggest is to keep going! i know it’s hard to move forward when unmotivated but you taking those steps forward, even if they are baby steps are super important! i’m sure you can apply to that other internship place really quickly, just to get it out of the way instead of dreading it! i believe in you!!! 🥳🥳🥳 and i’m hoping that you get into that new place, i’ll be manifesting for you 🧘‍♀️

at least one of the positives is that you’re reading more! i want to get back into reading but i’ve been watching anime pfft

i’ve been ok! i’m done with finals and just have to submit a project by the end of this week however i’m a little worried because i was doing a hybrid thing at my high school and i foujd out one of my classmates tested positive so i have to quarantine and i’m getting tested on tuesday 🥸 i’m really really hoping i test negative because it would ruin so many plans and i don’t want my family to get sick 🥲 but at least i can watch anime and write!

[websfiles]

Summary:

 The first time we get to see Remus play and sing! The song lyrics are in Italics, I recommend listening along to the song while reading the lines, it really is so much more effective. :)

Song: Moral of the story by Ashe

Notes:

tw: Anxiety attacks, mentions of physical scarring, self esteem issues

Enjoy! Make sure to leave any comments and let me know if I've missed any triggers. <3

Chapter 2: Moral Of The Story.

Remus felt a lot of things in this current moment, tired, drained, both mentally and physically. But the biggest was relief. He watched as James shoved Remus’ bags into the boot of his car, with struggle, of course, but he got there eventually. James turned to him, a smile resting on his features, “Ready mate? Time to get you back home.” Remus flinched at the word home, he thought back to the flat he used to live in, feeling his chest clench. He could remember all the fights, the arguments. He could feel his breaths becoming shallower as he remembers the incident. He was so deep in worry and panic that he didn’t realise James infront of him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, eyes full of concern.

“Your real home, that place was not home. You’re going to come and stay with me and Lily, she’s already had your stuff moved into the guest bedroom, your bedroom.” Remus was stopped before he even had the chance to open his mouth to protest, “No Moons, you’re staying with us, I know you’re not okay, and it’s probably going to be a long time until you are. I can see right through you Remus. You’re not a chore, or a burden, we love you, you’re part of our family.” All Remus could do in that moment was envelope James in a tight hug. He was so thankful for him, everything he’s helped him through in these past 5 weeks. He was at the hospital everyday without fail, along with Sirius, who made sure Remus always had everything he needed, wether that be a cup of tea, bars of chocolate, or a comforting hand in his own. Peter was there at least 4 times a week, even though he had an extensive uni course, he always found time. Lily was always there, whenever he woke up in the morning, in the middle of the night, or even when he couldn't sleep. He owed his life to his friends.

The care ride to James and Lily’s apartment was short, but rough. It had been over a month since Remus had seen anything outside the walls of the hospital, but he was more than happy to get out. He breathed in the last of the summer air through the open car window, feeling the fresh air course through his veins. He misses the fresh air, the air he felt back in school with all his friends, running through fields. Or the air late at night that would soar through his hair on the motorbike, his arms wrapped round Sirius' waist. He misses how everything used to be.

James pulled up into the car park of his apartment complex, reversing into his usual spot. Remus grabbed his bags, wincing as he slugged them over his still fragile and frail shoulders. James raised an eyebrow at Remus, be he just waved him off.

Remus followed James up to his apartment, walking behind him as he opened the already unlocked door. As soon as Remus set foot in his apartment he could smell fresh cooking filling the air. James and Lily lived in a luxury apartment just outside of central London, James’ family was wealthy to say the least, his father owned a law firm which James himself worked at, hence the reason he was able to get so much time off while Remus was in the hospital. The apartment had a great big lounge with the comfiest L shaped sofa, a modern decorated home, but cozy, and felt lived in at the same time. The kitchen was large and had counters with marble countertops, and a massive island in the middle. It was a 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom apartment, so really had plenty of space for Remus, but he still felt as though he were intruding slightly.

James entered the kitchen and he was surprised to see more than one familiar face, “Hello, people that don’t live here, just, make yourself comfortable.” James raised an eyebrow at Sirius who was sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging his legs, sticking his tongue out at James, then to Peter who was sitting at the table, textbooks and papers surrounding him, not paying him a second notice. “Wormy’s a bit busy mate, stressing about his grades, what’s new.” James practically skipped over to Lily who was working at the stove, stirring away, pressing a gentle kiss to his fiance's cheek.

Remus’ felt his chest swell as he heard his voice, he left his bags by the door and followed the voices. He stopped at the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, watching his friends with a relaxed smile. This was his home.

Sirius turned his attention towards the doorway and made eye contact with Remus, immediately jumping off the countertop and leaped into his arms, “Moony! You’re home, finally out of that depressing shitehole.” Remus chuckled as Sirius flung his arms around his waist, Remus flinching in pain as Sirius made contact with his still tender abdomen. Sirius let go of Remus as soon as he realised what he had done, “Oh my god, did I hurt you? Are you okay? God, I’m sorry Remu-” Sirius’ sentence was cut short as Remus just pulled Sirius back in, wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

“God, you are such a baby, honestly.” Remus laughed with a playful tone in his voice. Sirius just let his head fall against Remus’ shoulder. Remus towered over Sirius, the height difference honestly laughable at this point, but neither of them cared.

“If you two are finished melting into each other,” Lily said with a joking tone, eyeing them both with an amused expression, which made Remus feel a flush rise to his cheeks as he didn’t realise how long they were standing there for, “then I would love to get some real food flowing through your body, Remus Lupin.”

Remus chuckled as Lily pushed him down into a chair, a full breakfast plate placed down in front of him, “Yeah sure, thanks mum.” Remus joked, earning a playful swat to the arm from Lily, “You really think I wouldn’t notice you literally living off of chocolate for over a month?!” Remus looked at her with a guilty expression upon his features, feeling bad for making her worry, “Eat up, love.” She gave him a fond smile and kiss to his temple.

“It’s good to have you home mate.” Peter eventually looked up from his textbooks, patting Remus’ hand from across the table, his usual grin plastered on his face.

It’s good to be home, Remus thought to himself as he dug into his fresh eggs and bacon.

***

That night Sirius decided to stay over, since it was Remus’ first night out of the hospital, he knew what Remus’ anxiety was like. He tried to hide it from them, Sirius knew he did. He remembers all the attacks he had at school, during the night, waking up, shaking, not having any idea where he was. He remembers having to calm Remus down, scared that he was going to give himself a heart attack. He remembers all the nights spent in each other’s beds in their dorm, the way Sirius would wrap his arms around Remus’ waist to let them know he was there.

Sirius knew Remus like the back of his own hand. Every time he thought about what he must’ve gone through, for three years , with him. It made Sirius feel like he was going to chuck, he knew what it was like to be manipulated, used, thrown away, like he was some sort of toy.

Sirius settled himself into the spare room down the hall from Remus’ room, Sirius practically lived there anyway, he preferred being with people than being alone with his thoughts. Sirius chucked on a pair of James’ joggers along with his Queen band t-shirt he had been wearing that day. He slipped the hair tie off his wrist and put his hair up in a bun, some pieces of his hair flying away around his features. He lay down into the bed, staring into the ceiling, he wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep, not with the image of Remus in the hospital, on life support, not breathing by himself. Sirius thinks back to the first night he visited Remus, the night it happened. Remus didn’t get out of surgery until around 4am, but Sirius waited. When he had been allowed to see Remus, he remembers the pain of his heart clenching, the sight of his best friend lying unconscious, fresh scars covering every part of his body, endless tubes and equipment and needles doing everything they can to keep the man alive. Seeing his best friend on his deathbed. Sirius swore to himself that night he wouldn’t, ever , let anyone so as to lay a finger on his Moony.

***

Remus thought that his first night in a real bed after being stuck in literal hell for weeks, that he would get the best night's sleep from since he could remember. The reality was the complete opposite. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see his face, hear his voice, feel the shard tearing into his skin as if he were reliving the whole experience again.

He felt himself jolt upright, breathing heavy and panicked. He swung his legs round so his feet were on the floor and attempted to slow his breathing. He knew it wasn’t working as he could see his hands in his lap, shaking violently. He attempted to reach for the lavender oil sitting on his bedside table, slowly but surely uncapping the bottle and rubbing some of the scented oil onto his forearms. He focused on the scent, just like he had been told by his therapist. Lavender always seemed to soothe Remus, it made him feel relaxed, safe.

Once he was able to take in his surroundings again, he got up and made his way to the bathroom, trying his best to be quiet so not to wake anyone else in the apartment. Once he shut the door behind him and locked it. He turned on the cold tap and splashed his face with water, he looked up at himself in the mirror, immediately regretting his decision. He felt his stomach churn as he saw them, they were unavoidable, on every last part of his body. The scars. Remus could feel his breakfast from earlier making his way back up and before he knew it he was leaning over the toilet, throwing up everything but his vital organs.

It was the first time he had seen them, at least the ones on his face. He had been attempting to avoid all reflective surfaces, aware of how he looked. These scars practically defined him now, shows how weak he was, pathetic, useless.

To anyone else these accusations would seem irrational, but to Remus, they were the truth. These were the words he had been called for years, by the person who had given the scars to him. It was the truth to him, the words that have been ingrained into his mind. He could also feel the way his clothes that used to fit him perfectly, now hung loose around his features, he basically drowned in his own clothes.

Remus really didn’t like himself. He hated himself. He was disgusted by himself. It was his fault he was like this, he was deranged, never being able to take himself out of the abusive situation. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight, but he couldn’t just stare into the ceiling and drive himself mad.

He picked himself up off the bathroom floor and walked back down the hall, past Sirius’ room and into his own. He had half a mind to knock on Sirius’ door and ask to spend the night with him. He always felt safe with Sirius’ arms wrapped around him, the way Sirius would rest his head in the crook of his neck, he would be able to feel Sirius’ breath against his ear, the thought making him shiver. But Remus was not what Sirius needed right now, he didn’t need to babysit him, is what Remus kept telling himself. But for Sirius it couldn’t be further from the truth.

As Remus entered his room, he looked towards the back, where his keyboard lay, looking out the window. He has been able to play since he was very young, he found the feeling of his fingers drifting over the keys soothing, and without fail, it would always make him feel calm, he would be able to feel all tension release from his body.

He sat himself down onto the stool he hadn’t sat on in weeks. He reached for his notebook full of his sheet music, and opened it up to a new page. Writing songs has always been an escape for Remus, it helped him as a young boy, when his mother passed, or when his father started to become distant towards him. He would just close his eyes, and let his fingers glide over the keys, not giving a second thought but just letting his hands guide him.

He would record all of his songs on his second hand, worn down macbook. He never found the courage to actually post anything as he hated listening back to himself, so the thought of other people listening made him cringe. But what Remus couldn’t see was that he was talented. Extremely fucking talented. Listening to him play would always be angelic, as he sang along with the notes from the keyboard effortlessly.

He pressed record on his mac, took a deep breath, and let it all slip out.

He started pressing down on the keys gently, doing whatever felt right, “So I never really knew you, God I really tried to,” Remus thought back to when he first met Fenrir, charming, but closed off, didn’t give any information about himself. Just wanted to know about Remus. It seemed sweet at the time, but now he could see the red flags.

“Blindsided, addicted. Thought we could really do this, but really I was foolish.” He remembers back to a time where he thought he loved Fenrir, he thought Fenrir loved him. But in reality he was just his toy, some fun to have at home, a personal punching bag.

“Hindsight it’s, obvious.” Remus could see them now, all the warning signs jumping out at him, telling him to get the fuck out of there, but he was oblivious.

“Talking with my lawyer she said, ‘Where’d you find this guy?’ I said ‘Young people fall in love, with the wrong people sometimes.’” Remus sees himself in the hospital, his first day breathing by himself, surrounded by nurses, police officers, and a lawyer that he certainly couldn’t pay for, but figured James had set him up with one of his. He knew the gesture was supposed to feel kind, but he felt like some sort of child, someone who always needed looking after. He remembers having to go through every little detail to her, the pain rippling through his chest as he fights back tears.

“Some mistakes get made, that’s alright, that’s okay,” Remus was trying to reassure himself, make himself believe that it wasn’t his fault, but no matter how much he said it, he never really will believe it.

“You can think that you’re in love, when you’re really just in pain.” Remus can see back to the first time Fenrir hit him, he was shocked, but felt like he deserved it, like he was being punished for a reason. The way his friends didn’t believe him when he said he had just ‘fell down the stairs’.

He let himself melt away into the keyboard, humming along with the tune, all the panic releasing out of his fingertips.

“It’s funny how a memory, turns into a bad dream” He can recall every single night spent in the hospital, all the times he would jump awake from seeing Fenrir in his dreams, in his nightmares.

“When running wild, turns volatile. Remember how we painted our house? Just like my grandparents did, so romantic but we fought the whole time.” When Remus was eventually pressured to move in with Fenrir, “Should have seen the signs, yeah”. He realises now that Fenrir didn’t have him move in because he cared, he had him move in so he could keep a close eye.

Remus let his fingers travel over the keys, stretching out the final notes. He could feel a drop of wetness fall to his hand, then onto the keys. His head fell into his hands, his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs, wanting to disappear from the world. That was until he felt a gentle hand to his shoulder, making him jump and slightly wince at the surprise contact. His head shot up out of his hands, his eyes making contact with another set, ones full of support, compassion, but the slight concern that still furrowed in his brow.

“Fuck, Pads, you scared me.” Remus let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, it was shaky, trembling. “I- I’m sorry, for waking you. I should’ve just went for a walk or something, fuck, what time is it?-” Remus’ rambling was cut off by Sirius pulling him up off the stool, clasping their hands together and leading him out of the room.

Sirius led them into the living room where there were two large mugs of lavender and camomile tea resting on the coffee table, blankets covering almost the entirety of the sofa, the lights were dim, most of the light coming from the large flat screen TV, open on Netflix. Sirius turned to look at him, bringing his hands to Remus’ still damp cheeks, “I know when you’re not okay Re, you didn’t wake me, and I could practically smell the lavender oil from my room.” Remus was ready to shoot up his defences, but was stopped as Sirius started speaking again, “Your voice is still just like I remember it, beautiful. I know the signs Remus, you should’ve come to get me, I hate the thought of you having to go through another episode alone.” Sirius’ voice let out a small crack as he reached down for Remus’ hands, thumbs rubbing comforting circles on the back of them. “Promise me, Re, look at me,” Remus tore his attention away from their hands, and brought his eyes back up to stare into Sirius’ eyes, those silver eyes that when they crinkled along with his usual, shit-eating grin, sent shivers down Remus’ spine. “Promise me, that whenever you feel even the slightest bit panicked, you come straight in to see me?” Sirius’ voice leaked with concern, with worry, with hope. Remus gave him a small, apprehensive nod, but he felt his heart fill with pure fondness. He drew his attention back to the dimly lit room, Sirius had done all this for him, he could see right through Remus, could see when he was ready to break down, when he reached the climax of whatever book he was reading, when he felt like he didn’t deserve to be loved.

Remus felt his stomach tingle as he thought about it, Sirius really did care about him. He felt himself be pulled down onto the couch, swinging his feet up. Remus watched as Sirius flung his head on to Remus’ lap dramatically, “You can pick tonight, but we can’t watch The Office, Lily will break our femurs and ship us to Italy to be made into ravioli, Moons.” Remus let out a laugh, a real laugh, something he hasn’t been able to do in months. He took a long sip of his tea, while threading his fingers through Sirius’ hair, “I don’t mind Pads, put on whatever you feel like, having you here just now is good enough for me.” Sirius turned his attention towards Remus, shooting him a fond, gentle smirk, “Anything for you, anything at all Re.”

By the end of the night, all that could be seen in the lounge were two emotionally drained boys, sleeping peacefully in a heap on the couch surrounded by mounds of blanket, TV still quietly playing in the background. James reached for the TV remote to switch it off, trying his best not to disrupt his sleeping friends, until Sirius stirs a little, and looks up to meet his eyes. James raised an amused eyebrow at him, causing Sirius to just roll his eyes and lay his head back down onto Remus’ lap. James let out a quiet chuckle as he pressed a gentle kiss to both boys' temples, before making his way back to his room with a warm feeling resting in his chest. They had their Moony home, he was safe, and James was determined to make sure it stays that way.

[omoi-no-hoka]

Rural Life and Mental Health in Japan as a Gaijin

Heads up: This is a very long, personal post about mental health and the stresses of living in rural Japan as a foreigner. If it’s not what you’re looking for in this blog, please feel free not to read it. If you can’t tell by the gif above, this isn’t going to be a very positive post because I’m not in a very positive mood.

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

It’s been just shy of five and a half years since I moved to Hokkaido, the northernmost island/prefecture in Japan. In many ways, it’s similar to the American Midwest, which is the region I’m originally from. It’s big on agriculture, it’s got lots of nature and rural areas, winters are long and nasty, and the people have a warmth that make up for the cold snow and ice outside. Heck, even a lot of the flora and fauna are the same.

I think of my current city as my “Japanese hometown” because it was where I stayed during my first trip to Japan and it’s where my hostparents from that time are. I love it here like I love my country bumpkin village of 2,800 back in the states.

But after a little over two years of living and working in this city, I think I need out. I am...tired of it in many ways.

特別扱い Tokubetsu Atsukai, “Special Treatment”

Prior to living in this city, I lived in Sapporo, which has a population of 2 million. There, no one batted an eye at a foreigner walking the streets. A lot of them were surprised that i could use Japanese, but a good few people were used to gaijin that could use nihongo and read kanji.

But in my current city, I have experienced all of the following things, some of which on a daily basis.

DISCLAIMER: I have also had a LOT of very positive experiences with the people of this city. Most of my experiences have been positive or neutral, but a good 40% have been as described below.

Everywhere I go, I am openly stared at. Gawked at, at times. (I am your standard-looking, standard-dressed, slightly overweight white girl. No visible tattoos, piercings, vibrant hair color, or otherwise attention-grabbing aspects about me other than the fact that i am clearly not Japanese.)

I am often spoken to like I am mentally disabled, or if I am with a Japanese person, they will refuse to speak to me and instead speak to my Japanese companion.

I have entered restaurants on my own and had waitstaff make a big “X” with their arms and say “No English” immediately upon seeing my non-Japanese face.

I have had waiting taxi drivers drive off instead of allow a troublesome foreigner into their car.

I have sat down alone at a bar and had the Japanese people beside me openly gossip about me with the assumption that I could not understand them.

When searching for apartments when I moved to this city, I was denied 75% of my picks because they have a “no gaijin” rule. Despite the fact that I can speak and read, that I have a good job and valid visa, and that I have already lived here 3 years without a single late rent payment or complaint against me.

I have built up casual relationships with employees at grocery stores, etc. I frequent, and they have asked me for my contact info because, in their own words, “I’ve always wanted a gaijin for a friend!” In Japan, every girl wants a token gaijin friend instead of a token gay friend.

I have gone on dates with Japanese men who clearly just wanted a white girl to hang on their arm like a piece of swag and insist on taking me to a pasta place because “You must prefer western food to Japanese food” or insisting that I dye my hair blonder to look more foreign.

I am just...so very tired of this 特別扱い (special treatment).

I don’t want to call it 差別 (prejudice) because, the majority of the time, Japanese people think they are doing me a kindness by speaking slowly and simply, or by telling me as soon as possible that they cannot help me in English, etc. While a couple of the above experiences are straight up racism (I’m looking at you, asshole taxi drivers and landlords), most of them are a misguided form of “omotenashi,” a.k.a. Japanese hospitality.

So I try very hard not to let it get to me, because I know that they don’t wish ill upon me. But I’ve worked so goddamn hard to learn this language and speak it well, and it is so frustrating for the people around me to assume that I can’t do what has been my freaking life goal. Or having people assume I can’t understand slightly difficult words and dumb down their language (Even colleagues I’ve worked with for two years now!). In the middle of a conversation they’ll say things like, “It’s hard to deal with that level of animosity--oh wait, omoi-no-hoka-san, sorry, ‘animosity’ means ‘dislike.’”

They mean it in a helpful way, but it just comes across as very condescending and I end up thinking, Oh, so they think my Japanese proficiency is so low i can’t understand that word. Which sends me into doubt over whether my language skills are actually that deficient, or whether I am speaking in a way that makes myself look at bad at Japanese.

The Effects of 特別扱い (Special Treatment)

It’s been gradual, but over the past two years, I have found myself withdrawing from the outside world. I got bad at replying to friend’s messages. I started making excuses to avoid meeting up and hanging out. I would buy all the groceries i needed to last me through the weekend on Friday after work and not emerge until Monday morning to go back to work. Even though I really love the outdoors and used to spend entire days just riding my bike along the river trails here.

...But in the past few months I’ve become unable to answer even close friends’ phone calls and messages. And I’ve even had a hard time phoning my parents, which is crazy because ever since I left home for uni I’ve called my mom on a daily basis. When I think about stepping outside of my apartment, no matter the reason or destination, I am gripped by a dread so strong I nearly throw up. I have gone a couple weekends without food because it would require me leaving my apartment to buy some, or paying for very expensive delivery which also means interacting with whoever is bringing me that food.

I’ve had a stressful summer and fall at work, and that undoubtedly has contributed to my current anxiety overload. But things have settled down at work for the past month now, and not only have I been given an award that only 2% of employees get globally, recently I have been in talks to take on what is very nearly a dream position for me within the company that is a BIG step up career-wise. I have great bosses who recognize my efforts, who listen to what I have to say, and do what they can to help when I tell them I’m in over my head.

But I have had several days where I have woken up, gotten ready for work, and just frozen at my apartment door, too sick at the thought of going outside. And yet, I can’t stand the thought of calling in sick because I feel chronic, self-imposed guilt when I take a day off, no matter the reason. So I call in to work and tell them I have a stomachache and will be in once it’s gone, (which isn’t an absolute lie), and then drag myself into work within a couple hours.

And once I enter the office, do the obligatory bow and apology for being late and causing inconveniences, the dread and anxiety vanish and I am fine until it is time for me to go outside to return home.

This makes me think that work is not a main stressor right now. It doesn’t matter if I’m going to the convenience store or the grocery store or work or anywhere. I think the constant being stared at everywhere I go has gradually accumulated to become a nasty form of social anxiety. I used to have panic attacks in middle school and high school due to home life, but since removing myself from that environment they’ve gone away. I’ve always been a socially-reserved person who shies away from the spotlight, and despite telling myself a thousand times, “Let them look at you--you’re just being you and they’re being them and that’s OKAY,” I just can’t brush it off. I have very, very seriously considered dyeing my hair from its natural brown to black in an effort to blend in, if only slightly. Which is laughable, but that’s just how much it bothers me to stand out.

But the event that really sounded the alarm for me was when my best friend of 10 years, a Japanese girl whom I met by chance my freshman year of uni, who was my roommate for 4 years of uni, who let me sleep on her living room floor here in Japan for 3 months until my work visa came through, who has been with me through thick and thin, sent me a message asking when she could drop off a souvenir for me and

I couldn’t bring myself to reply to her text.

That was when I very clearly knew that I was too deep in this funk to get myself out on my own, and I had to figure out how to get help.

Frankly, despite having struggled with panic attacks and anxiety in the past, I have never sought professional help. Until now, I never felt that my symptoms were so bad that they warranted medication. But the fact that i can’t contact my mother or my best friend, that I would rather not eat anything for two days instead of go outside, means that snorting essential oils and rubbing rose quartz against my temples or whatever isn’t going to be enough.

Mental Health Views in Japan

It’s not exactly a secret that the approach to mental health in Japan is “sweep it under the rug.” You do not talk about it. You may go to a doctor and receive medication, but you do not get counseling, because that involves talking about it. You do not tell your friends. You do not tell your family. You DEFINITELY do not tell your coworkers.

I saw my boss, T, fall into a very similar spiral to my own this summer. Stomach aches in the morning, coming in late, making excuses to get out of outings outside of work, not replying to messages, not sleeping well. And then one day he just vanished. Didn’t show up one Monday.

T wouldn’t respond to our messages so we had to contact his mother to get a hold of him. And once she had confirmed that she had spoken to him and scolded him for being “selfish” by skipping work, my coworkers were satisfied because, in their words, “Now that we know he’s still alive, we don’t have to worry.”

Honestly, that was one of the most fucked up reactions to any situation I have ever seen. I was shocked, because these coworkers truly cared for him, but their mutual reaction to this was to just...let him languish.

T announced to a select number of supervisors/colleagues that he had been diagnosed with general anxiety disorder and would be stepping down from his position. He said that he had been diagnosed years ago, but had not disclosed it because he knew that he would never be promoted if anyone knew.

And that’s one of the big reasons that no one wants to talk about their mental illness here. In Japan, having a mental illness is a shameful thing. It shows that you’re weak, that you can’t keep up with everyone else, that you are flawed in a way that will adversely affect those around you at one point or another.

But my company really is a great company and the people in charge are progressive. T has a lot of great skills and experience, and they didn’t want to let him go. So they told him that they would find someone to fill his current role, but once he had rested and gotten better, they wanted him to come back and do a position that he used to do, one that he really shined in and enjoyed. And that is where he’s at now, and he’s doing much better for it.

So, having seen all of this unfold mere months ago, I grappled with how much I should tell my employers. The talk of this new and big position in Tokyo was underway, yet I knew that I wouldn’t be able to handle it unless I got better.

So I bit the bullet, and on the night that I couldn’t respond to my best friend’s text, I sent my boss a message, explaining my symptoms, how long they’d been going on, what I thought the causes were, and that I wanted to take the morning off to see a doctor about it sometime that week.

And I was really shocked by his reply.

This boss is the guy that filled T’s position, and i didn’t know him that well yet. As it turns out, he used to be a counselor before he joined this company. He told me that I could go to the doctor whenever I wanted, but that he also wanted to talk in person about this the next day.

The next day he called me into the conference room with one other manager, a guy I really trust and like. When T vanished, shit really hit the fan at the office and it was basically this manager and me keeping us afloat for the first couple weeks, so we’ve got a lot of camaraderie going. They asked me to talk more about what was going on, why I was feeling all this anxiety, etc.

And it was during this conversation that I saw the division between the traditional Japanese views of mental health and modern views of mental health.

When I explained to them both why I wanted to see a doctor and try medication, their reactions were mixed. My boss, the former counselor, said that if I thought it was best, trying out medication for a few weeks was a good idea.

The manager looked doubtful and said, “But do you really think that going to a doctor and getting pills from him will fix everything? If you’re diagnosed, what will your colleagues think? I thought you wanted that promotion.”

In that moment i felt intense fear and regret, as well as hurt. T had said that he had withheld his diagnosis for this very reason. A part of me had wanted to think it was paranoia on his part, but now I realized that he had been right to keep it a secret. This manager, whom I knew very well and trusted deeply, clearly was of the opinion that a diagnosis/medication = evidence of weakness.

So I ended up lying and telling them, “I’ll go to the doctor just to get some sleeping pills.” (I’ve been waking up every hour on the hour for a couple months now.) Sleeping pills aren’t frowned upon in Japan and the manager was pleased with this decision.

And after that manager left, I told my boss the truth, that i would be getting anti-anxiety meds as well because I really thought it was necessary, and that I would appreciate him not disclosing it unless he was required to, which he agreed to.

Seeing a Psychiatrist in Japan

So now i had to find a psychiatrist and make an appointment. A Google search provided me horrors. Below is an excerpt of a Google review of a certain mental health clinic in my city, and the record of the exchange between the doctor and reviewer (patient). I’m not going to translate it all because it’s long, but these are some highlights of the doctor’s words directly to the patient.

“You can’t sleep? I can’t sleep either. What, do you want some pills for it?”

“You can’t expect me to believe what a patient says.”

(After he made the patient cry) “You are being so difficult. Could you stop crying?”

He gives her medication, has silent nurses send her out to the waiting room where she continues to cry, and the doctor comes to the waiting room and says, “Could you hurry up and pay and leave?”

Having read this, I was filled with absolute fear. Maybe I was better off trying to fix this on my own after all.

But I kept searching, and I also learned that my city hall has a 心の相談窓口 (Kokoro no Soudan Madoguchi), “Mind Consultation.” You can call them to learn information about what sorts of mental health facilities/options are available in your area. A very kind lady there informed me that it takes about 2-3 months to get in to any psychiatrist in this city, most of them do not take new patients, and that counseling is almost non-existent. Unless I was a harm to myself or others, I would have to wait. However, there was one general hospital in the city that had one psychiatrist staffed. This hospital has no reservation system whatsoever (very common in Japan) and takes a set number of patients in the morning and evening. I could try my luck to get in and see her.

So that was what i did, and I was able to see her on the first morning I went! I think the Kokoro no Soudan Madoguchi lady made it sound harder to get into so I wouldn’t feel let down if it didn’t work out the first time I went.

Having read the horror story above, I had a lot of trepidation stepping into the exam room with her and two nurse secretaries. I had expected it to be a very clinical, dry exchange of symptoms and a sufficient prescription with a token お大事に。

And, more than anything, I had feared that she would say something like, “Maybe you should just go home to your own country where you wouldn’t stand out.”

But she asked me a wide range of questions, with none of them focusing on the fact that I was a gaijin: what my symptoms were, how long they’d been going on, what I had going on in my life, what work was like, past history of anxiety, etc., and she and the nurses all truly listened to what i had to say. It was clear that she cared about the underlying causes and me as a person.

She told me that it sounded like I was experiencing a buildup of stress and anxiety and that she wanted me to try a low dose of anti-anxiety meds and sleeping pills for a week and then come back for another discussion.

That was 3 weeks ago. I’ve since been in the process of working with her to find the right combination of medication. Fun fact: they prescribe you Rohypnol (roofies) for sleeping meds in Japan if they deem your insomnia is serious enough. So. That is interesting.

Where I Am Now

I am keeping my boss informed of my condition and he is still very supportive. He seems to have informed his bosses of my tribulations to some extent, because they have gone out of their way to check in on me and see how I’m doing, which is very kind of them. Of course, they also know that i went above and beyond the call of duty for several months in a row until recently, and they could simply be asking because of that. Either way, I am touched that they would think of me, as I am a lowly translator for a lesser project and they are quite a ways up on the corporate ladder.

I am still in talks about taking on a very exciting position in Tokyo HQ, despite one of those bosses likely being aware of my situation to some extent. I used to dread the thought of Tokyo because I am a country girl who needs to see green, but recently I’ve come to the tough decision that I need to leave my beloved Japanese hometown, just like i left my American one. I love them, but I do not belong in them. I have visited the Tokyo HQ quite a few times, and there are a ton of foreigners in the area so I don’t stand out at all. I think that as long as I can live reasonably close enough to a park, I can satisfy my needs for nature while lessening my social anxiety.

I am having good days and bad days where it is still hard for me to leave the house. But I am having more good days than bad now. And today I was finally able to send a text message back to my best friend. Which really doesn’t seem like a lot, but it is a lot to me. My friend is supportive and understanding, which means the world to me.

I’m getting back to being me. 💗

p.s.: The gif at the top of this is from the anime Mushishi, which I think illustrates various mental illnesses and their effects in a very metaphoric way.

[sublimeswift]

This is kind of long but I was recently diagnosed with Covid-19 and wanted to talk about it as I don’t leave my house* so I didn’t expect to get it at all! Plus I didn’t know any of the symptoms I was experiencing were symptoms of Covid-19 and honestly I’m also really scared cause it’s effecting my whole life so I just want others to be aware of the symptoms to get tested and prevent the spread.

About 3/4 weeks ago I began to experience horrific migraines partnered with nausea and stomach pains. The migraines and nausea were something I suffered with a lot from at school, I couldn’t even go to school most days because I couldn’t really walk due to my migraines, every movement was agony, so experiencing that again didn’t really make me think anything was abnormal, however the stomach pains were soemtjing that was new to me so I called my GP and was told to take a Covid-19 test, and it came back positive! I wasn’t aware that these were symptoms of Covid-19, but they were, as were many others things I was experiencing but hadn’t known they were notable before.

Along with my migraines I was experiencing confusion and delirium, I felt like I was constantly just ‘waking up’ in new places and could not focus at all on anything I was doing, I’m falling behind on my uni work and struggling to complete simple tasks, where as before I was a straight A student, I put this down to my migraines and struggling to adjust to online learning, however a lot of my coursework last year was online learning and I managed to pull in As then too, so I should have known something was wrong.

I was experiencing blisters on my eyes and swollen eye lids, and I’m starting to loose my sense of smell. I have pretty bad hayfever so I put it down to my hayfever acting up, however since my diagnosis I did some research and found that all of these are also symptoms of Covid-19, so if you are experiencing anything like I did, please book a test or order one to your home if you can. I’m young, I’d say fairly healthy over recent years, but I’m being hit hard by this virus, it can get anyone and you can’t guarantee that you won’t be effected by it.

I just wanted to share, as TMI as it is for you to know all of this, I want people to get tested if they can because I don’t leave my house and still contracted it, so anyone can. It’s better to be aware of the symptoms and get tested so you don’t spread it to others.

I’ve been offline for quite a while, I’m struggling to look at screens often, though I do pop on occasionally I’m struggling a lot right now, however tumblr is my place to vent and over share, even if no one reads this it makes me feel better to have like a diary of it all.

If you did read this please please keep safe and look after yourself as appreciate your body for what it’s doing, I struggle with loving my body but right now I’m thankful it’s fighting off this horrid virus.

*when I say don’t leave my house I mean that mostly literally, I take my dog outside alone once per day, my mum does it the rest. I don’t go to the shops, my uni is online and I don’t work as when I began looking for work during the spring, the pandemic began to effect work where I live. I also avoid being close to people as people being in my personal space often gives me panic attacks and makes me severely uncomfortable. I do however answer the door for packages and my mum works (she wears a mask and gloves at work) so could have brought it home to me, even with all of the precautions.

[fuckedurbias]

afraid - park sungjin

DAY6 AS DAY6 SONGS PART 2 - part 1 

genre: demon!sungjin au, angst & lil bit of fluff

requested? hehe both yes and no

word count: 3.8k 

warnings: ee bit of a horror warning but it’s not graphic at all except for one sentence, also a tiny bit of an assault incident but again, not graphic at all. BIG heartache warning tho :(

A/N; just like part 1, the italicised words are lyrics from the day6 song ‘afraid’ listen here while you read along!

Sometimes when I see you next to me, it seems like you’re unhappy because of my greed

It wasn’t always like this. In fact, it hadn’t been like this until recently. Only recently had you started appearing more tired, more drained. It became more apparent that you were struggling. Especially when you were around Sungjin. You were clearly trying to put on a strong face so he didn’t worry about you; trying to keep both him and yourself happy, but it was clear what was going on. Sungjin felt so much guilt, like this was his fault – he couldn’t think of a reason other than himself to what could be causing you to feel this way. He was trying to help you but he didn’t know how, he had never learnt how or how to experience anything other than what he knows, which is nothing. He is nothing. All he had was memories; and he was so desperately trying to hold onto those memories of what you used to be like, what this relationship used to be like. He’s trying to show you what it was and should be, but it only makes it worse. Only makes you more drained. 

The you who said the sky was so beautiful, now walking looking at the ground

One of his favourite memories of you was the first time he’d ever been outside during the day time; it was with you. A few days after he first met you and you promised him the sun isn’t scary and won’t hurt him, even though you didn’t quite understand that the sun was dangerous for him – being a literal demon and all, but he still promised to give it a go just for you. He still told you that he can’t stay outside for too long though, he didn’t explain why as to not scare you off but you still said it was okay, all you needed was 10 minutes. You took him out to the big, empty grass hill near your building and at first he was confused, what could you two possibly do that’s fun here? He was even more confused when you just fell back on the grass, sprawling out on your back. You patted the spot next to you; guesturing for him to lay down too. So he did. You two just laid there, watching the clouds pass by and talking about nothing in particular. He realised that you were right, the sun does feel nice when you’re human; or at least in a human form. Whilst his body didn’t operate at all like a human’s and it is practically just a suit to him, he could at least actually feel the sun on his skin, even though his skin wasn’t absorbing it. It felt warm, and the sky looked beautiful. You felt warm, and you looked beautiful – you were his sky. Looking at you in this moment whilst remembering that happy memory breaks his heart, you barely even look up at him, let alone the sky.

It feels like I’m looking at myself

You still are his sky, and he hates that he doesn’t know what to do to help you. He is a literal demon; all he knows is how to hurt, he doesn’t know how to be good and to help people like you. You are so good and pure, your aura is literally a mixture of white and beautiful lilac, the purest of all forms. It still is that; which would bring him comfort, until he sees how faded and weak it is. It’s like looking at himself, especially before he became a demon and succumbed completely to the darkness and pain and he prays to every kind of God that humans believe in that you won’t end up like that. He would never forgive himself. You’re walking in front of him right now, and he remembers the times you would be doing exactly this – but humming and skipping happily and telling him to catch up, but now you’re just staring straight ahead in silence. What has happened? What has he done wrong to let this happen? To let this happen to you and to your relationship. He felt like he’d failed you; and one too many times at that.

You are like the moon that lights up the black sky

When the both of you used to explore the town at night, going to Sungjin’s favourite secret spots where he used to go to find humans and feed off them; but he didn’t tell you that’s what he used it for, but you knew anyways. The first time he took you to his favourite cliff where you can see the city, the view looking so beautiful all lit up at night time. That was the first time you held his hand and even though he doesn’t have a heart, he felt something spark deep inside the core of his soul. You had to shut his fingers around yours with your other hand – he’d never held hands before so he was clueless, but he thought it felt so nice and secure. You leant your head against his shoulder and took a deep breath as you closed your eyes and he swears he really did truly feel human in that time, his soul was so calm and he felt bright. The glow of the moonlight on your face made you look like an angel and he knows this for sure because he has seen angels, but none of them looked as beautiful as you did; and nothing ever will. You truly saved him and made him feel something other than numb & darkness.

But your light is gradually being covered by my darkness

He’d tried to ask you what was wrong so many times but all you said was ‘I’m just tired from work and uni”, but he knew that wasn’t the truth; or at least, not all of it. No matter how much he tried to tell himself it wasn’t his fault, he knew deep down it was. Being a demon, he’s built to bring darkness and drain humans and all conscious beings of their life force – it would be no surprise if he was unintentionally doing it. It’s very likely. Especially being around you so much and confiding in you, telling you about all the issues and problems he’s facing currently and what he went through in his human life. It was and is messed up, so it’s no surprise it would gradually wear you down and start to affect you so much. His black, void-like aura and being was gradually starting to cover yours and suck your light away. There was nothing either of you could do to stop it. Well, there was one thing, but neither of you wanted to do it. You both loved each other too much to do it.

Even in this moment when you smile at me

He teleports to be right in front of you, making you stop in your tracks. You can’t look at him.

“Look at me” His deep voice commands. You just let out a sob in response, refusing to look up. He puts his thumb underneath your chin and lifts it up, making you look him in the eyes. For as long as you’ve known him, his eyes have never been anything other than black – but for just a second, you could’ve sworn you saw the prettiest mix of golden brown. That only makes you cry more.

“What’s wrong?” Sungjin asks, moving his hands to be either side of your face, cradling your cheeks in his hands.

“It doesn’t matter” You say, trying to turn away. He refuses to let you go.

“Stop lying to me, I can’t stand seeing you like this any longer” He stares into your eyes, like he’s staring into your soul. Which he is. You just look up at him, eyebrows furrowed as the tears continue to fall. He rubs them away with his thumb.

“I don’t know why I’m hurting Sungjin, it just started one day and it’s been building up”, you sob “It won’t go away”. Even though you did know why you were hurting, you couldn’t tell him. You never would. It would kill the both of you. He knew that you were keeping a secret from him, he had known since the moment you met. He hated that his powers didn’t work well enough on you, so he was unable to read your mind.

“It’s okay Jin, let’s just carry on with our date” You gave him a pathetic attempt at a smile and grabbed his hands from your cheeks, intertwining your fingers as you continued on forward along the riverside to your date spot.

I don’t think I could make you happier than before you knew me

You first met Sungjin when you arrived home from a night out with your friends; a 21st birthday party. You had got out of the Uber and were walking into the entry of your apartment complex but just as you arrived to the steps a man jumps out of the bushes and attacks you, trying to rob you. You tried to fight back but he overpowered you, pushing you onto the concrete and standing over you, holding a knife out – threatening to slash you if you didn’t give him your belongings. Your inner voice was screaming at you to just throw your bag and run for your life; he wanted the bag not you! But you were too frozen in fear to move or do anything. Your senses dimmed and you didn’t know what to do, closing your eyes as you braced yourself for the painful feeling of the knife. Suddenly, you felt a strong, gush of wind fly past you, only lasting for a mere second and when you opened your eyes, the man was gone. You looked around in utter shock, there was no trace that he was ever there. You grabbed your bag and stood up quickly, preparing to run inside until something black appeared in front of you. You screamed out of fright.

“You’re not safe, I only got rid of him so I could have you for myself” The thing grins, the most evil and terrifying sight you’ve ever seen in your life. It raises itself off the ground and over you, two glowing red dots appearing as it stares into your soul, trying to manipulate your mind to take over you so it can devour you. It doesn’t work, you just stare in fear and it watches you.

“Why won’t it work?” It growls.

“I- Why won’t what work? What are you trying to do to me?!” You panic, confused. The thing roars in confusion, going back on the ground and moulding into a human form. A human that, you in particular, recognise.

From that moment on, Sungjin hung around you a lot. He didn’t know why he was so drawn to you but he guessed that since his powers didn’t work on you, you were special; he found you so interesting, not useless like other humans. Especially if you weren’t scared of him after seeing his true form. You’ve told him many times before that you’re glad he’s in your life - that he makes it more interesting and exciting, but he is very doubtful of that.

I’m so afraid that you will become like me

As he sits next to you on the bench overlooking the river, looking at you as you don’t even admire the night view of the city like you used to, he sees your aura fading even more. It’s not turning dark it’s just, fading. He’s so worried that you’ll just become a mindless, numb, emotionless person. Like him. What if you did literally become like him? A demon. He’d been working so hard on keeping other demons away from you, especially because once they find out Sungjin has been hanging out with you and didn’t kill you. They’ll be so mad. Then both you and him will have to be destroyed. Especially when he tries to convince them that he has fallen in love with you, because demons aren’t supposed to feel. He can’t really feel anything - at least he doesn’t think so, but when he is around you he feels tingly and warm and that’s something. He loves that you can feel the things he can’t for him and when he’s around you he can feel what you feel even if it’s not coming from himself. That’s why he thinks- no, he knows he’s in love with you, because when he still isn’t around you and even thinks of you, the tingly warm feeling is still there.  

You who hurts because of me

“Look, I don’t want to make you upset but please just tell me what’s wrong. I know you’re hiding something from me and I’d rather you just tell me than hide it from me and have it affect you this much” Sungjin blurts out, squeezing your hand tightly to comfort you. You can do nothing but sob in response.

“I can’t… It’ll break me… It’ll break you” You heave in between sobs.

“I’m literally a demon – I’ve seen death, I’ve killed people. Nothing you say can be worse than that” Sungjin explains, chuckling to try and lighten the mood. “Fine”, you gulp “Do you remember anything at all from before you were a demon?”. Sungjin turns to you immediately, feeling something inside of him that he’s never felt before. It wasn’t coming from you; it was all him.

“I-I… No? Only the few really painful moments that I’ve told you about, other than that I only really remember when I began to turn into a demon but… Nothing other than that” He stutters, struggling for words.

“Sungjin I… I think there’s more to why you couldn’t kill me that night” Your throat is closing up; you can’t say it. Sungjin is looking at you, eyes wide and frozen with panic.

“When you were human, we knew each other…. For a long time”, you look into his eyes, seeing the golden brown again “we were in love, we were together for 3 years.” Sungjin feels his soul overcome with dread, worse than any kind of dread he’s felt before.

“We were happy, you were happy; until you moved away to another country. As much as we loved each other the distance became too much and soon you went off the radar completely, it broke my heart”, you say, starting to cry again “I didn’t know what happened to you, I tried to check up on you but you never replied. I just assumed you moved on”. Sungjin turns away, suddenly getting all these flashes of the times you spent together in his human life.

“But I guess… this is what happened”, you gesture to his body “and I don’t know how you ended up back here but you did, it must be fate or something”. Sungjin is frozen, being tortured by the pain of seeing all your old happy memories flashing in his mind. His soul is aching, crying, screaming. He is feeling and it is awful. He doesn’t know what to do, he can’t take it. So he just roars and melts into a shadow and flies away at the speed of light. You scream and cry out for him, but he’s gone. And you’re left alone. Again.

Me who hurts when you’re gone

He tries to distance himself after that, staying away from you and watching over you from the shadows. But it kills him to do so, especially seeing you so broken. He lets himself down every time and appears to you, visiting you in your apartment and cuddling with you and spending time with you like he used to. He apologised for the other night, but you said he didn’t need to; you understood that it must’ve been really hard for him to process at the time, especially reliving his whole life at once and remembering such important & emotional memories. Especially going from feeling literally nothing other than dread to everything all at once. In the back of your mind though, you honestly are surprised he came back. Even more so knowing that he shouldn’t have. Both of you know what has to happen but neither of you wants to bring it up. He hurts so bad when you’re not around, even more now that he remembers his human life. It brings back that feeling. You’re making him feel on his own now, he’s not just mirroring your feelings. It’s all coming from such a deep place in his dark soul.

What should I do

You told yourself that today when he comes over, you’ll do it. You’ll tell Sungjin what neither of you want to talk about, it will tear you up inside; it already is… but it has to be done for the greater good. Before you know it he appears behind you in the bathroom mirror; you close the cabinet door after putting back your toothbrush and he’s there, smiling. You don’t even jump, you’re used to it by now. He walks up and wraps his arms around you, trying to hug you but you push away.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, looking at you in confusion. You can’t respond, you just look away and rush out of the room. He teleports in front of you, forming into a black silhouette coming out of the ground before his human form appears.

“Don’t walk away, talk to me” He begs, holding your shoulders to stop you from trying to escape again. You just look at the ground, it’s already tearing you apart and you haven’t even said anything yet. You’re trying so hard not to burst into tears, you have to do this and be serious about it – no matter how badly it’s hurting you. It needs to happen.

“Sungjin… You know what has to happen, right? I know you do” You inhale deeply, voice shaking. His whole being suddenly turns really dark, looking at you with a blank expression.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you; that you turned into this and that I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I’m so so sorry”, You continue, taking his hands in yours “but you know that we can’t be together in any way anymore. We’re endangering each other… We have to move on”. Your lip trembles, this is so much harder than the first time he left. Sungjin just squeezes your hands back, they feel so warm – so real.

“I know we can’t, but I love you too much. I know I shouldn’t be able to feel emotions anymore, but what I am definitely sure of - I feel it so deep in my soul, is that I love you. I always have and always will” Sungjin says, his eyes glowing that golden brown as he looked at you. This time it didn’t go away.

“I love you too, I’ll never forget you – I’ll never love anyone or anything as much as I’ve loved you” You reply, looking up into his eyes.

“And don’t feel sorry for what has happened to me, to us. It’s not your fault, you had nothing to do with it at all” Sungjin reassures you, pulling you into his chest as he squeezes you tight. You’re used to not hearing a heartbeat, but this one time it catches you off guard a little bit.

“I know but, sometimes I wonder that if I just made you happier-“

“Stop it, you made me so happy. All the memories I saw from my human life with you, none of them were anything other than happy, even now. You’re such a bright, healing person and anyone who knows you or will know you will be beyond blessed to have you in their life” Sungjin interrupts you, rubbing your head with his hand.

“For a demon, you’re really sweet” You giggle into his chest, feeling your tears drying up on your cheeks.

“Thanks, I know” He chuckles. You look up at him, resting your chin on his chest as he swings you both side to side.

“I’m really gonna miss you” Your voice shakes again, eyes starting to tear up again.

“I’ll miss you too, and even though I’m not around physically – I will always protect you and never let anything hurt you” Sungjin comforts you, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. He kisses your forehead, wiping a tear away with his thumb as it falls from your eye. His gaze falls to your lips, slowly leaning in as his lips connect with yours. This is the first time you’ve kissed since he’s come back into your life, if only it wasn’t under such awful circumstances. You feel like you’re in heaven, eyes closed and feeling nothing other than Sungjin’s cold lips on yours - they feel so real. When you open your eyes, he’s gone. You fall to the floor and sob, clutching your chest. You though you’d already felt the pain of losing him, but this was beyond compare.

I can’t let you go or hold you back

From that moment on, Sungjin keeps his promise to protect you. Getting rid of any trace that you and him were ever together, making sure that no other demons will ever find out and by result, find you. If they ever knew about you two, you’d be killed and shunned to hell forever alongside him. He watches over you from the shadows, making sure he is invisible as he clears the path for you on your way home and visits you while you sleep, making sure you only ever have the sweetest of dreams. He knows he has to stop seeing you altogether but, he doubts he will ever be able to fully leave you; he just lessens the amount of times he visits you, making sure it’s only every so often or when you really need it. When he is around, even though you can’t see him you swear you can feel it in your heart and soul, the feeling that you used to get when you’d see him as a human. He can’t say it won’t break him inside when you do eventually move on and find someone else, but he won’t hold you back or stop it from happening. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he did. As long as they protect you and make you happy – because if they ever break your heart, he will find them and rip out their insides and suck their soul right out of their mouth, literally. Sometimes he thinks that it’s better you two parted ways, after all he does have to kill people to be able to exist and survive; being indebted to the devil forever and all, but he will never truly be able to let you go. While it does scare him, it comforts him. But he vowed to himself that even if he is a demon, he will be your guardian angel until the day you die.

I’m so afraid