#sound life advice for uni

[lonesomedotmp3]

thinking about buying tix off someone but I don't go to a lot of concerts and I'm kind of stupid so I don't wanna get scammed or something lol

[etherealising]

oh girl, so along w the guy telling me he didnt like me back, i had a rough draft due and it was 1500+ words and due at 11:15am and so i stayed up till 5:30am, woke up at 8am worked on my paper, got dressed, got to campus, finished my paper at 10:50am and have been so exhausted all day. and then i have my criminology test due tmr at midnight and so basically i want to die and cry and just drop out LOL. anyway, sorry for the rant, have a great day, hope its better than mine -<3

ew your life simulation is beating your ass lovie : ( lmaaoo why did i even say that 😭 NEVA APOLOGIZE FOR RANTING! i love ranting it’s my whole personality (have you seen my blog bestie?) i know this is from like a week ago but i do hope the rest of your week was better! we could drop out together if you’d like that wack ass piece of paper is not feeling worth it at all 🥲

[sapphosclosefriend]

-Thanksgiving Fun-

Pairing: Stepcousin! Masc! Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Genre: smut

Summary: you were never able to resist her, not even on Thanksgiving.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: top! (beefy and tattooed 🤤) Natasha x bottom! R, stepcest, enemies with benefits, allusions to weed consumption, SMUT, oral on strap on (R giving), throat fucking (R receiving), strap on sex (R receiving), extremely brief oral (R receiving), squirting (R)

A/N: this story contains smut so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. I literally wrote this in 2 days out of a frenzy so Idk how good it is…M, P, G pt 2 will come, I promise!!!! Once again, thanks to @rt--link for being so sweet! As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡

Masterlist

It was already November, which meant it was Thanksgiving time! You were so excited to finally get back home for a little bit after the couple of months you had spent away at uni. Contrary to most of your friends, you actually really liked Thanksgiving. Yes, it meant having to undergo the neverending interrogation from your classically nosy aunts, but you gladly did it every year to be able to spend some time with all of your relatives, even the ones who lived a bit more far away. Of course she was also one of them, though.

Natasha was one of your aunt’s daughters. Her mother had married your uncle 3 years before, making her, the redhead and her sister officially part of the family. Everyone liked Nat as soon as she became part of the group and her sister Yelena, with her sharp wit, was, if possible, even more beloved by everybody. As soon as the two girls regularly entered your lives, you had followed everyone’s advice and started to hang out together. You’d always felt very lucky for having cousins of your same age range, making them some of your closest friends ever, and having the chance of adding someone else to the group immediately sounded like the best idea ever, or at least that’s what you had thought at first.

That was because you didn’t like Natasha, you just didn’t. If at first, while witnessing her interactions with other people, she seemed to be the sweetest girl in the world, once you finally got to know her personally you started loathing her. She wasn’t necessarily a bad person, she was just so irritating all the time. And the worst part was that, apparently, she only acted that way with you, not with her friends, not with your other cousins, not even with her own sister, just with you. If you thought that, thanks to uni’s social life, you had met the cockiest motherfuckers in the world, you were utterly wrong. Natasha was the most terrible one of them all. It was constant teasing, constant comments, constant jokes, constant snickering and each time you heard her voice or looked at her, you wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smirk off her pretty face.

You didn’t know how it all started. Well, of course you knew that one time, at your grandma’s house to celebrate her birthday, Natasha had been particularly annoying since the moment you’d gotten there, which resulted in you being bitchy and her pulling you into the bathroom and kissing you once she had you trapped against the locked door. You hated it, every second of it and the fact that you ended up begging her to keep going while she was with her fingers knuckle deep inside of you wasn’t of any importance. You weren’t proud of what happened that day, but you were too nice to deny her when a couple of days later she was at your door ripping your clothes off of you. You were both attending the same uni and, despite literally never seeing each other in academic nor social settings, you started finding the closeness to be a much bigger impediment to your initial want to put a stop to your newly found situation. You were growing weaker and weaker to her charm, only while in the bedroom of course, and your intent to end it all kept getting pushed to the back of your mind each time you came with her name on your lips, until it was completely gone.

And that’s how you ended up at yet another family gathering partly ruined by her, this time to celebrate Thanksgiving, having to try to push away the tingle between your legs at the sight of her in her usual casual clothes hiding the defined muscles underneath as she talked with her dad and your grandpa about something involving a bike she was fixing up for herself. You were keeping your distance for your own sanity, but you could clearly hear their words and her low, raspy voice regularly adding to the conversation. You didn’t know what the hell they were talking about and either way, you had stopped actively listening long before, once you got lost in the view of her hand as she held her glass. The second she noticed your eyes fixed on her, you were thankfully saved from her most definitely coming over to tease you, by your cousin Clint, bored out of his mind and equally in need of leaving as soon as possible, even if for very different reasons than you. Ok, maybe him being the person talking to you didn’t exactly make him your savior, he was the person Natasha had gotten the closest to after all, which meant that, as soon as she once again turned to get a peek of your outfit she particularly appreciated, he immediately called her over, most definitely hoping to lure her away from the party. She couldn’t have been more obvious with the way her eyes kept ranking your body head to toe as she listened to his frustrated rambling, but thankfully Clint’s desperation blinded him from noticing the less than innocent way in which her gaze was on you.

“I’m begging you Nat, I’ll get on my knees! Just one!”

You both couldn’t help but chuckle at the grown man’s antics, when you suddenly realized that you had no idea of what the hell they were talking about. You barely had the time to open your mouth to ask them directly, when, of course, she interrupted you without a care to keep talking to her friend.

“Fine, but I’m taking half of it”

As soon as the first word barely left her mouth he was throwing his fist in the air and putting his coat on to go to the guest house she was staying in with you. Because of course you had been placed in the same room, in the small guest house in the backyard that only consisted of one room with one bed. You didn't know why, but everyone apparently thought of you two as some sort of best friends just because you both went to the same uni, despite, again, the known fact that you did not have one single class together, lived in different places and had completely different friends, meaning that you only saw each other when she called you over or randomly popped up at your place to fuck, but of course they didn't know any of that.

“A quarter..”

He was already leaving once he spoke his final words, leaving her alone with you to shake her head at her friend’s antics.

“Fine”

You hated how easily she seemingly had you under a trance as she murmured the word while smiling to herself. She was able to put you out of it equally fast, though, as she turned to you to regard you before leaving the celebration to follow after Clint.

“Are you coming?”

Her almost soft tone had to have given you some sort of whiplash as you stood there, looking at her without being able to utter a single word for a second, before regaining control over your own mind, and sanity, once you noticed her lips starting to curl into her usual mischievous smirk.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna stay here a bit longer”

She was once again putting at risk your ability to talk as she ran a hand through her short hair to get it out of her face and moved closer and closer to you, sneaking her gaze towards the other side of the room where most people had moved to, before reaching behind you to get a snack from the table you were leaning against, pressing her front against yours and letting your feel a certain something poking your lower belly.

“I’ll wait for you then”

She looked way too pleased by your slightly widened eyes as you tried to contain your emotions in order not to draw any attention to the two of you.

“You’re packing?”

Her brows furrowed as you whisper yelled at her, before speaking matter of factly.

“Of course I’m packing, I’m always packing when I’m with you”

She didn't give you the time to respond to her, immediately licking the chocolate off her fingers while shamelessly looking at your cleavage before turning to go to the guest house. She was infuriating, her and her constant horniness. You decided to casually join some conversations here and there for the brief rest of the night, until almost everyone had gotten to bed, including a much more relaxed Clint, and it was just you and your aunt gossiping in the living room. The moment your phone buzzed in your lap you almost had a feeling of who might had been trying to get in contact with you, so you cautiously lifted the screen, in case a certain someone decided to share something a little too private, and noticed she had sent you a picture.

The moment you clicked on it, the initial, brief awe you found yourself lost in at the sight of her posing with her tongue peaking out and the hood of her sweatshirt over her cap, was unfortunately wiped away once you finally read the caption under it. You couldn’t help but mentally facepalm at her dumb words, even if you had to reluctantly admit that the text was successful in making your heart leap at its crude nature.

“Not enough pressure on my 🍆”

Her finger was pointing to the word “pressure” printed on her hoodie, why did she have to be that way? You knew what she wanted from you, it was all she seemed to be thinking about, like some pussydrunk teen, and the way she didn’t even ask you if you were down for it, expecting you to just indulge her wish, didn’t sit right with you. Who did she think you were? Her whore always waiting for her like a pet?

You locked your phone with a frustrated sigh and got up from the couch, quickly finding an excuse with the immediate questioning you got from your aunt as to why you'd go back to your room so early.

By the time you walked across the whole backyard and got to the entrance of the guest house you were finally able to make out her figure, sitting on the wicker armchair under the small porch with all the lights off, in complete darkness, to hide the very end of a hand rolled cigarette between her fingers and the suspiciously smelly smoke coming from her.

“Your tits look good in that shirt”

You knew it was coming, as soon as you had chosen your outfit, you knew some sort of comment was to be made by her, although it had taken her a bit longer than you had expected. You were wearing a quite simple blouse with a boob window, in reality nothing as scandalous as it sounded, but the complete opposite in Natasha’s eyes. The way your jeans perfectly hugged your ass and the sway of your hips anytime you had walked past her, were just the cherry on top to the main course right below your pretty face.

You barely looked at her as you kept walking by her past the door without acknowledging her words, hearing her chuckle at your usual uptight self. You hated to admit it, but the way she was manspreading, making a bulge under her sweatpants slightly visible, while she casually smoked, had made you even more willing to help her out with her “pressure issue”, not that she needed to know about your enthusiasm anyway. By the time you were just starting to get undressed she entered the room, locking the door behind her and standing against it to shamelessly look at your ass as you leaned down to take your shoes off. As soon as your pants were off too and you were about to slip off your shirt she spoke up.

“No no no, keep that on”

Despite the way too pleased look on her face, you were silently thankful for the piece of clothing still on you in the slightly chilly room. You didn’t even bother to take your warm, ankle high socks off and left yourself fall on your back on the bed, feeling satisfied after noticing her swallowing and wetting her own lips as her eyes stayed fixed on your boobs’ slight jiggling as you had dropped on the mattress. Once you got comfortable on top of the soft duvet, you made sure to look right at her as you slowly spread your legs and immediately started lightly rubbing yourself through the fabric of your own underwear, moaning softly at the light stimulation as a way to tease the motherfucker in front of you. Without uttering a word, she left her spot by the door and walked over to you, stopping at the foot of the bed to grab her cock through her pants and slowly pump it. Pushing down her sweatpants just enough for the dildo strapped to her hips to spring out, she gave you a peak of the beautiful, defined v lines you had kissed over so many times and the bottom of the tattoos on her torso and abdomen you had to admit you loved. There was some ink peeking out from the cuff on her wrist as well, making the sight of her strong hand holding the base of her cock even more pleasing.

“Come here, get it wet”

You wanted to come up at least with a remark at her blunt order, but found nothing but anticipation in you and your body, as if moving by its own accord, immediately left your spot to kneel on the bed right in front of her crotch. You didn't waste any time, you couldn't have even if you wanted to, and, as soon as your lips touched the head of her cock, you tried your best to relax your throat in order to take as much of her length as you could, earning a pleased hum from her at the sound of your gags every time she reached the back of your throat.

“Now that's a cocksucker”

Her words pulled your eyes to her face and found her looking intently at you. The groan that came from her once you stopped bobbing your head to stay still with her cock still in your mouth sent a strong twing of arousal through you as she easily understood what you wanted.

She gently grabbed your head with both hands to keep you in place and immediately started to move her hips to fuck your face. Relishing the sight of a string of spit dropping on the part of your chest exposed by the cut in your shirt, she started pushing even deeper to see just how far you were willing to go for her. The resistance was clear as she pushed a bit more of her cock with every other thrust, until you finally couldn't wait anymore and grabbed her ass to give her a push and hopefully make her understand what she needed to do. With one final thrust she managed to push herself past your tight throat until your nose was touching her crotch. She couldn't help herself and rushed to get her phone from her pocket to snap a picture of you looking up at her with watery eyes as you grasped her ass cheeks through her pants to keep her from moving away. It was only once the need to breathe got the best of you that you pushed yourself off of her, sucking in a deep breath while Natasha stared with hooded eyes at your swollen lips and the spit connecting them to her cock.

“You say you hate me but you need my cock that much?”

You hated so much how true her words were and tried to distract yourself from the thought by lying back down and grabbing her cock now covered in your spit.

“Well, you're obsessed with my pussy so it's even”

She just smirked at your remark, deep down knowing that you were so fucking right. She couldn't get enough of it, all the girls she had fucked and she had to loose it for her stepcousin? Well, she honestly didn't give a shit, as long as you were careful she was going to keep fucking you like the slut she knew you were for her deep down.

“For the first time I've gotta say you're right”

You didn't even have the time to process her words and the shock that they had caused when she suddenly moved your underwear to the side and grabbed your ass tightly to lift your hips and get a taste of you, moaning exaggeratedly at her now favorite snack. Despite the leg shaking orgasm you knew she would've easily gotten out of you with her mouth, you pushed the delicious thought to the side and firmly grabbed her hair to lift her from your center.

“Right now I need your cock balls deep in my pussy, not your mouth”

Her lips looked way too delicious as they glistened with your juices and as they curled up she suddenly left go of your ass, making you yelp as you fell back to your lying position, before grabbing your thighs and pushing them to each of your sides, waiting for you to keep them there yourself with your arms to fully open yourself up for her. From the position you had a clear view of her strap as she rubbed it over your wet folds before finally pushing its head inside of you. She could never get enough of seeing your reaction at her entering you for the first time and once again, she couldn't help but keep her eyes on your face from the first moment. She fucked you just with the tip for a bit in order for you to get used to her and, gradually pushed more and more inside as you rubbed your own clit. You knew you were very far away from everybody else, but you still tried your best to keep your volume as low as you could, making her smirk at the clear signs of your struggle to do so.

“More, go faster”

She loved it every time when your uptight, moralist voice turned in a second into the pathetic begs of her own cockdrunk whore and who was she to give up the chance of fucking her personal pussy when she asked for it? After lifting up her hoodie a little to get a better view of your center begging to be filled up more and more, she firmly grabbed your waist, gradually thrusting faster and harder until she had set a pace that knocked your breath away every time she pushed her hips forward and her tip stroked your g spot so deliciously a deep sensation quickly started to build up inside of you. Her flexed abs and veins popping up on her hands made the pleasure she was making you feel, become even stronger, getting your orgasm closer by the second. It honestly amazed you how fast she was always able to make you cum and, despite not wanting to show her any weakness, you admittedly always felt a little self conscious because of it. You could barely keep it anymore, though, it was going to happen in a matter of seconds and your mouth opening in shock told her everything she needed to know.

“Wait, I think I'm gonna-”

You didn't have the chance of finishing your sentence before an earth shattering orgasm hit you so strongly that small, clear droplets spilled out of you every time she pulled back.

“Holy shit”

She panted the words to herself before swiftly pulling out completely and quickly rubbing her fingers over your clit, making you moan loudly as you squirted even more for her while you rode out your orgasm. By the time you were done, your legs were a little shaky and you were almost sobbing from how intense and quick it all was. Once you looked back at her, though, you knew you would've gladly done it as many times as she wanted. Her abs were a little wet from your orgasm, with a couple of drops still lingering on her tattooed skin, and, once your eyes locked with hers, she looked like the most dangerous predator eyeing its prey, ready to eat it in one bite, and, god, wasn't she going to do exactly that.

After all, maybe Thanksgiving was actually going to be even better with her.

.

.

.

Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @dmenby3100

[chrisbangs]

^__^ watching mark's newest vid and idk i just cannot express how much i love him... he's really just like me ..

[1800jjbarnes]

◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟗: 𝐃𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚/𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 - 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 ◇

Prove It

【Synopsis】 : late night conversations aren't supposed to end in sex... right?

『W.C』 : 3.10k

-> Genre: College Au. Smut. Poly.

Pairing: Steve x Bucky x Stark!Reader

[Warnings] : Man handling. Clit play. Pet names. Dirty talk. Neck kisses. Fingering. Oral. Crying. Overwhelming amount of emotions leading to a type of subspace. Ass slapping. Making out. Sweet kisses. This is jut all over the place I’m sorry.

Masterlist | Kinktober List

You couldn’t recall the time, but your hazy eyes and wobbly legs made it out to seem it was nearing at least three in the morning. You weren't a morning person, and neither seemed to be your body. But you couldn’t sleep, no, you needed a glass of water before your throat shrivelled up on itself. You hummed and hared over it, and in the end, you kicked up the blankets and headed to the kitchen. You had planned to down a bottle, waddle back to your room, and lay staring at the ceiling until it was appropriate to officially get out of bed. That was until;

“I’m just saying I see no chance of that ever happening.” Bucky's whisper, yelled through the dark home. You assumed he was in the lounge. Curious, you headed over to see what he might be talking about. Gazing into the room without detection, you notice Bucky sitting on the twin couch while another, scruff-haired, sits on the opposite couch. “Steve…” He sighed, “I’m gonna lose my mind at this point.”

“We could always just, ask.” Steve sounded as if he had discovered the perfect answer. But Bucky throwing a pillow in his direction says otherwise.

“For a dude majoring in social studies, you are stupid.” Bucky tisked, leaning back so his head would drape over the top of the couch. You decided to step out and make your presence known, wanting to join and see what this oh, so terrible situation they seemed to have put themselves in.

“Ask who?” You responded, making both men physically jump. Neither of them must have heard you when you were slamming the fridge before. Bucky suddenly sat up straight while Steve reached for the pillow that was thrown at him. You raised your eyebrow a little, choosing to sit on the loveseat by yourself. Were they acting weird, or was it just your imagination?

“Oh just school drama, don’t worry about it.” Steve was quick to cut off any more questions. They were definitely acting weird, and you hated that. Most of the time, out of all your brother's friends, Steve and Bucky were the friendliest. They treated you like a person and not some little girl or ‘Tony's Little Sister’.

“Hmm…” You didn’t know how to respond that wouldn’t turn into something sour. So you chose to just let it go. It’s not like it was the first time one of your brother's friends cut you off because it was ‘school-related’ even though they were all in their second-to-last year in Uni while you had only just started. On top of that, they treated you as if you were still this young eighteen-year-old. Most of them even forgetting you were twenty-one already.

“Sorry doll. It’s just…We don’t need to bore you with our stupid drama. Besides I’m more interested to hear about that boyfriend of yours. How have you two been getting along?” Bucky diverted the conversation as easy as breathing. One of his many skills. Sweet talking. You wanted to roll your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, well, ex now. You don’t even know why you started dating him. Oh wait, you only started dating him to see if it affected Buck or Steve. But neither of them showed signs of disapproval. Which annoyed you. Your crush on them was getting out of hand, and your friend suggested dating someone to see if they would react, but now you wished you never took that advice from her.

“Ex. He, uh, wasn’t a great person. And in every aspect, full of himself and…” You stopped yourself, feeling blush, scatter your cheeks. You were really about to confess something about your sex life to them. Steve raised his eyebrow while Bucky clicked his tongue. Their attention was completely on yours, and it made you squirm.

“And?” Steve had a feeling what you wanted to say but he wanted to hear it from your pretty lips first.

“And…He wasn't experienced in the…L-Love department.” You gulped suddenly shaking your head. “But it’s not like I knew anything either given he was my first and all but like you should at least know where to pleasure a woman you know? Like I didn’t know how uncomfortable sex was until he decided to do it. It was so awful and I just—” You suddenly realized you word vomited and cringed internally. “Wanna crawl into a hole and never see the light of day again.”

It stayed silent for a moment, making you feel embarrassment riddle your body. But then Steve's laugh caught everyone's attention. “It’s okay. We all have that type of relationship at some point, but he couldn’t be that bad.” Steve tried to lighten the mood, trying to make you feel better, but it didn’t really help. You stole a quick glance at Bucky and noticed he was also looking at you with some type of remorse, feeling bad for you. You just groaned, pushing your legs to your chest, hugging them tightly.

“No, he was pathetic, if I’m honest. I’m not trying to be mean, but it’s true… he only cared for his needs..” It was like a switch went off in both male's heads. They knew what you were referencing, and they both couldn’t help but groan at you, basically saying you couldn’t get off to your ex. Admitting you were sexually frustrated. Admitting he couldn’t even do the simplest job of finding your sweet spot. You gulped, feeling the air become thicker as tension started to brew in the room. You shifted slightly, seeing Steve and Bucky both seem to become tense, stealing glances at one another.

“Finding the clit isn’t that hard darling.” Bucky chuckled lewdly making Steve laugh in response but you snapped instead;

“That’s what all men say.” You huffed.

“I can prove it.” Bucky's words made you choke on your own saliva. Did he really just say he could prove it? How would he do that?

“P-prove it?” You gulped now sitting in a crossed-legged position.

“Yeah I’ll prove it. Come here.” He smirked, patting his thigh while spreading his legs. You were hesitant for a moment. Was this all a trick? Some cruel game? You trusted your bothers friends with your life, but one thing you knew about them was they are heart breakers. Bad boys. And that they didn’t have the best track record with keep partners. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

His voice was stern, and it made something tingle inside you. Slowly getting up, you hesitantly walked the three steps till you were standing right in front of him. He took that as a green light, grabbing your thighs to pull you onto him. Your hands found perch on his shoulders while your legs fell on either side of his lap, spreading yourself open on top of him. He stared at you in amusement, watching you like a hawk about to consume its prey. Your body felt hot, and your cheeks were dusted with a deep red. You’ve never been this close to him before. Never been so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. His hands squeezing your hips. His erection twitched beneath you. “You ready to be proven wrong, Darling?”

You nodded before slipping out a quick breathy ‘yes’. You felt the couch shift and noticed out the corner of your eye that Steve had taken a seat next to you and Bucky. The younger however didn’t do anything, just stayed back and stared at what might unfold in front of him. Bucky placed his fingers against your chin, making your attention completely his. The grin he wore sent shivers down your spine, and the hand that danced so closely to your inner thigh made you want to roll your eyes back in pleasure. “So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m gonna place my two fingers on your clit through your sleep shorts and if I find it. I want you to moan my name. Can you do that Dollface?”

You blurted a ‘yes’ a little bit too quickly, but you couldn’t care. All you could think about was Bucky and him touching you. So without another moment, Buck brought his fingers to your inner thigh, hovering just where you need him. You could tell he was faking in “trying” to find your button. He knew where it was, but he wanted to watch you squirm a little bit first. And before you could mutter anything he place his fingers right on your clit making you gasp. “James.”

“Told you I could prove it.” His confidence radiated off him, rubbing your nub in little circle, making you thread your fingers in his loose shirt. Your hips were stuttering, begging to move, and your eyes were sewn shut, focusing on the pleasure alone.

“Hey, I wanna try.” Steve's deep voice tickled your ear, making your head snap over to him. You didn’t even get a chance to protest, even though you knew you wouldn’t, before wrapping his large arms around your waist and picking you up so he could place you on his lap. Your back was firmly against his chest, letting him shove his face in your neck. You felt his lips graze your hot skin, making you wiggle in his hold. “Let’s make this more fun.”

Steve's fingers hooked under your sleep shorts, making you freeze. Your eyes are glued to Buck's dark ones. They were blown out, watching you carefully with lust. You lifted your hips without saying anything, letting Steve take your shorts off, along with your panties. Your heart was racing at the thought they were both going to touch you, but your mind also wandered to the others in the house. Yes, they all might be sleeping, but any of them could walk in and see what the two men were doing to you. “S-Stevie pleasee.”

“Oh, Sugar, I haven’t even touched you yet.” He chuckled, making Bucky lowly laugh at your desperation. These boys had you wrapped around their fingers. Steve slid his hand up your thigh, spreading your legs wide so Bucky got a good view of your dripping cunt. You tried to close them, but Steve's strong grasp kept them still. You felt embarrassed being the only one basically naked, and on top of it being naked in front of two people you had a huge crush on. Neither of them seemed to mind one bit though, Bucky having the temptation to latch his lips on your soaked cunt while Steve wanted nothing more then to fuck you with his fingers until you were crying.

Actually now that he thinks about it, that sounds like the perfect idea.

“And 3…2…1” His finger pressed perfectly on your clit making you jump. “Gotcha.” Steve grins, licking a strip up your neck, placing kisses down on your shoulder blade. His fingers circle your clit furiously, causing a hiccup to spit out of you. Bucky took this moment to lay down on his stomach so he was face to face with your pussy. He slid his long hot tongue along your folds.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Buckkyy. S-Stev―” Steve suddenly covered your mouth with his hand, hushing you from screaming. Your hips bucked, feeling Bucky slowly push a finger inside you. Your eyes sealed shut tight, feeling Steve's fingers on your clit, his lips biting and sucking all over your neck and Bucky's tongue lapping your juices up while he fucked you with his digits. It was like a sinful wet dream had come true and your mind was spinning at the thought.

“As much as we’d love to hear you scream our names. You better keep those pretty moans on the down-low doll. Otherwise, someone might hear us. And we won't want that now, do we.” Steve's deep voice grunted in your ear as you just nodded in response, losing yourself once again in the touch of both men. Tears start to prickle on the sides of your eyes as you felt your stomach tie itself in knots. You were so close to coming undone yet so fair as well. Your mind couldn’t take it anymore, and you needed more. You tried to speak, but your mouth was covered tightly. Bucky continued with his assault on your cunt, shoving another two fingers in while lapping up your cream all the while Steve had dressed you in his marks from the top of your neck to your back down your shoulder blade. His fingers never left your clit either.

“mm…mmm.” No matter how hard you tried to warn them something felt different about your high fast approaching. The large hand over your mouth made it ultimately useless. You bucked your hips moving in time with Bucky's fingers, feeling yourself begin to cry. And not cry like a few simply tears, no. You began to sob, feeling so overwhelmed and unable to communicate, made your mind shift into a place you had no idea existed. Your brain mushed, making you feel like you were floating. And only Steve and Bucky were around. You let go. Screaming a muffled whale, you squirted all over Bucky's face. Your tears stained Steve's hand while your nose began to drool. Once Buck helped you lessen your high, he sat up, taking a look at the mess you made.

“Awe princess. Look at this.” he gathered some of your cum and pushed it against Steve's lips. He sucked on the other male's finger with a groan making you cry even more. They both took notice of your tears and removed the hand over your mouth. You hiccuped, whimpering. Sobbing. Your fingers dug into the couch as Steve finally let you close your legs. Everything was happening all at once, and your body was aching from the awkward position. But you need your boys. You needed them to look after you.

“P-Please Sirs…I need more…” Your sweet high pitched voice caused both men to groan, feeling their cocks harden in their pants.

“Fuck Sugar. You okay?” Ste e tilted your head to the side so he could look at you. Your face was red, puffy and wet. “Pretty baby is crying. Did it feel that good?”

You couldn’t find a response in your fuzzy brain, so instead, you kissed him. Steve's eyes grew wide for a second, not thinking you’d kiss him. But who is he to complain when your lips were so soft and kissable. Cupping your face, he deepened the kiss, making you shake. He pulled away first, letting your catch your breath, but you did see it like that suddenly sitting up you got on all fours so you could reach, Bucky who was leaning on the other end of the couch. Your face was inches from his but didn’t move until he placed his fingers on your chin.

The kiss was desperate and rough. Bucky's fingers raked through your hair before tugging at it, making your hips wiggle, which conveniently made your bare ass jiggle in front of Steve. Now, saying Steev was an ass man was an understatement. This man lives for asses, and your ass was definitely one of the prettiest ones he's ever seen. He gave a harsh slap, sending a loud clap echoing through the room. Your moan was swallowed by Bucky, letting him shove his tongue deep down your throat. Steve kept slapping your bare cheeks, finding pleasure in seeing his hand prints appear on your soft skin.

“Hey, punk if we keep going I might have to fuck her,” Steve said so casually as if neither of them were tainting your idea of pleasure permanently. Bucky pulled away making you chase his lips.

“I think we need to end it otherwise we’d both be fucking her. And I don’t think we have the time.” Bucky chuckled, leaning back to place his arms on either side of the couch, tilting his head back with a sigh. Steve rubbed your ass, helping you sit up back to lean against his chest. His hands danced around your hips snaked up your shirt noticing you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Too bad, we didn’t get to play with these yet.” Steve cupped your breasts, squeezing them harshly. Your eyes never left Bucky's form. He tilted his head up briefly to watch Steve's hands play with your covered tits. You bit your lip, lifting your shirt up so he could see Steve’s assault.

“Fuck,” Bucky groaned wanting nothing more than to have those tits in his mouth. He sighed shaking his head before standing up to pick up your shorts and panties up. “Come on sweet thing, let’s get you to bed.”

You whined at the idea of having to end such a pleasurable ordeal. But sadly, they were right. You had no clue how long you’d been at this, and if your brother were to wake up, there would be hell to pay. You take your clothes from Bucky, putting them back on while Steve helped you stand. Your breathing was heavy, and your legs were on godly wobbly, but Steve's hard, strong arms kept you up. Once dressed, you looked up to Bucky, seeing a sweeter, less lustful smile on his features. He stood so close while Steve stood flush behind you. They were effectively sandwiching you. Bucky gave you a long, drawn-out kiss before guiding your face with his fingers on your chin to Steve, letting the other man seal his lips against your own. It felt so natural to be shared by them. And they felt the same. It was like one fluid motion. Comfort. And you were hating that it was ending. Once Steve pulled away, you looked back at Bucky, getting ready to wish them a good night. Until he said ;

“Don’t worry Doll. This isn’t over yet. Our fun is only beginning.”

[muxshwriting]

slipping through my fingers

Obi-Wan Kenobi x platonic!padawan!reader

summary: obi wan has to let go of his padawan as you grows up and out of his protection and teachings || warnings: i cried writing this, mentions of death || word count: 605 || masterlist

Obi-Wan can't help but to feel guilty as he watches his padawan interact with the other Jedi knights. He can't shake the feeling that he's letting her go out into the world woefully unprepared. You've changed so much from the young girl he first met.

He supposes these are the fears all parents feel as their child grows up. Because that's what you are to him. He raised you since you were a child to the adult you are now. You were his child, in everything but blood.

He’s watched other masters let go of their padawans and move on with life. But he wonders how they can move on without glancing back at the person they’re leaving behind. Do they not feel guilty about taking new padawans? Or are they desensitised to the whole system? Maybe the first is always the hardest, maybe it’s the first that sticks with you, maybe the sudden ache in his heart will ease when you smile.

“Are you alright Master?”

He’s been lost in thought for a while, longer than usual. Obi-Wan simply nods, taking in the time he has with you know and fondly remembering everything you had done together. These moments will not happen again, nothing ever will. Life is made of fleeting moments you don’t truly appreciate until they’re over. But you must hold tightly to those moments and cherish them so they don’t go forgotten.

It’s a duty as a parent, or pseudo-parent, to come to a stop and let their children continue on their own. It’s scary. It’s terrifying actually, but all birds leave the nest, all seeds float away in the wind.

“Are you sure Master?”

Obi-Wan placed a hand on our shoulder, “You’ve grown up so fast.”

“Master-“ Words fail you. “I’ll never be too grown up for your teachings.”

“I’m very proud of you.”

You pull him into a hug, burying your face in his chest. “I can’t cry. Don’t make me cry.”

He chuckles, sounding slightly watery.

Becoming a Jedi Knight was very important to you. It had been what you were working toward for most of your life. Somewhere along the way, you realised that being a knight meant leaving the safety net you had relied on most of your life. Obi-Wan Kenobi was your safety net.

At one point, you would be away from him for the longest time, be the furthest away from him you had ever been and see him for the final time.

It was nice to be grown but there was something to be said for youth. There was no shame in not wanting to grow up but we all do it, we all move on. A new chapter begins because the previous one ended.

Time would separate you and your Master but he would always be your master. Eventually, death would call for him and you would be left without a source of advice and comfort. Death was such a small word for a big thing. But death is only the end if you assume the story is about you.

Your story would not end at your death, the same way Obi-Wan’s story did not end at his. His story did not end because of you, his padawan, his child. Your story would not end for the same reason. Everything Obi-Wan taught you, you taught to your padawan. The chain continues on and stretches back as long as time goes on.

You could trace teachings through time, from master to padawan, as padawan becomes master and teaches a new generation.

Every Jedi carries the legacy of a hundred others on their back.

Boy, oh, boy. I’m looking at future uni destinations right now and this song hits hard. I’m sobbing into my pillow at 1am after finishing writing this

Taglist: @aoi-targaryen

[eamour]

you deserve your desires.

i think many people might struggle with this but cannot really address the issue. some of you have a hard time manifesting and starting to fulfill yourselves because you don’t think you are deserving of your desires. in this post, i want to tell you how untrue that is (and how ANGRY it makes me to see you guys daring to think so poorly of yourselves!).

you deserve your desires. you deserve every single one of your desires, no matter how "unrealistic" they may seem to you. no matter how little physical effort you put into achieving what you want. no matter how badly you think of yourself. no matter how scared you are of the outcome. no matter how barely sense it makes for you to get what you wish for. no matter how far out of reach it appears to be. no matter how hard it is for you to picture you having your desire. no matter how many times you have tried to make yourself believe that you will never make it. no matter how uncertain and insecure you are about all of this.

if you feel resistant towards your desire and actually just going after whatever it is that you want, i hope it’s not because of this. i hope it’s not because you are still debating about whether you should or shouldn’t get what you desire!

because if you really want to have desire xyz, you will get desire xyz. that’s the law, that’s the promise. and the best thing is, there are no limits! there is nothing in this world that you cannot manifest. nothing. YOU define the limit, only you. remember, you are the only creator in your life. no one can stop you but you. if there is an obstacle in your life, it has to be you and no one else — because you know, everything comes from within.

don’t let others stop you.

who could ever convince you that you shall not receive what you want? how could you ever let that happen? why would you ever let someone have control over you and the decisions you choose to make in your lifetime? you hear how ridiculous this sounds, right? you give yourself your desires, so, what’s stopping you? why would you not grant yourself your wishes as your own genie? exactly.

you deserve your desires. no, you don’t have to prove it to anyone that you are deserving of manifesting a desire of yours. you don’t have to get permission from anyone to finally go after your wants and needs. you don’t need to work hard in order to go to your dream uni, you don’t need to have a job to become rich, you don’t need to be a certain way for your crush to like you back — as you are always in control!

advice.

stop conditioning, stop being unreasonably afraid, stop limiting yourself, stop thinking logically, stop beating yourself up, stop making it look harder than it actually is and stop doubting yourself!!! you deserve to be happy. you deserve it, you deserve it AND AGAIN, you deserve it! you are allowed to get whatever you are only considering to manifest. because you decide! you choose! you dictate your life, you define it and only you determine if you‘ll live the life of your dreams or not!

with love, ella.

[inqilabi]

One thing I realized is to commit to things fully, and not try to do half way in half way out. Sounds like basic advice but for instance. My sister moved out way earlier in life. Conditions were right for her in a way they were not for me. I also wanted to leave home much earlier, like for uni. But we couldn't afford it so my family actually moved closer to where I ended up going to university. When it was time for my sis to go to uni 3 years later, she went far away. Actually it was a whole fight between myself/mom vs my dad where we fought for her to be able to go farther away. By that time, my mom had a job where she was able to subsidize my sister's living expenses even though my dad didn't approve.

But in my life, I tried to strike a balance between my family's wishes and my own desires. And I did a poor job at both. I neither succeed in my own desires as much as I would have had I committed fully to them, nor did I fulfill any of my parents desires for me. I also grew angry and resentful which my family surely felt. So by trying to strike a balance and make it a win-win situation, it ended up being largely a lose-lose situation.

Whereas with my sister, granted her initial start was luck, timing and help from elders - she also would have struggled had she not been able to move away for university. But because she was able to do that, she largely lived a life by her own means, for herself. And I would say that my parents are happier with her. She does less for the family, but whatever little she does - I think they appreciate it more.

And so I think if you're going to put yourself first, do it fully. Without regret. Without looking back and without regard. As a woman it is win-lose situation always. And you better make sure you're the winner.

[softbunnylvr]

awkward | tendou has negative rizz

౨ৎ headcanons & fun facts down below !

the whole gc live together except kenma (who lives with kuroo, bokuto, kageyama and hinata)

yachi yn and akaashi already lived together and tendou moved in later (he is like a stray cat they found on the street, he just kinda lives there now)

they have gotten 2 warnings beacuse of tendou screaming (who was playing the mimic and or dress to impress)

yn

yn is a little awkward and says thing who she thinks sounds cool but ends up sounding cringe

she tries being being more «serious» when Acting as president yn , emphasis on tries

used to crush alot on people, but after becoming president she has focused more on her work there (more on why she refuses to fall in love later hehe)

collects calico critters and only listens to girly kpop and mitski (txt is an exception)

definerly also has negative rizz, cant flirt to save her life

always takes on too much work, and never takes a break (she does, to cry in the bathroom between breaks)

akaashi

the voice of reason (deep down hes just as weird as the rest of them), knows yn though kenma

gives yn the best advice and helps her out alot to keep her from overworking herself

he and yn have movie nights every week (they watch EVERYTHING)

drink wine together and reminicse of the past

he and yn sit in silence for 15 minutes staring into the air before every council meeting

tendou

yn and tendou became friends during her first semester beacuse tendou had a jojos sticker on his laptop and yn saw that and was like «omg u like jojo????» and he was like «YES OMG U TOO???»

boom now they are BESTIES

they give major sibling vibes (they are so sinjin drowning coded)

she actually reads the shonen jumps tendou lends her

plays roblox together all the time, especially dress to impress and horror games (he says he votes her 5 stars but gives her 1, she believes him)

yachi

BESTEST BESTIES FOREVER LOCKED IN FOR LIFE

each others biggest enablers and defenders

sometimes join yn and akaashi in drinking wine and reminiscing of the past

a man hater

she and yn also met online and when they found out they were going to the same uni they were ECTIC

platonic soulmates (often fights tendou on this because he also claims hes yn platonic soulmate, plot twist its kenma)

kenma

forced into the council by yn

idk how she managed to get him into the council, he does not even go to his classes

Knows yn from high school, they were in the same class

yn often bribes him to come to council meetings

they also play roblox together - sometimes joins him on his streams

taglist: @diorzs @lvtilzs @iheartpinky

[youremyheaven]

Hi! I’m 21 and my Saturn mahadasha started in 2021, do you have any advice on how to get through it and come out happy? I’m starting uni soon and now I’m worried things won’t get better 😬🥲 I should be more optimistic though 💪

I’m UBP sun and mercury btw! With swati moon and ardra rising

Saturn dasha is the longest, so this will be the next 16-17 years of your life ✨

Everybody makes Shani (Saturn in Sanskrit) dasha sound scary as hell but I assure you, so long as you do your part, Saturn will do his.

What does this mean?

Saturn represents justice, fairness, dharma, duty, discipline, time, karma, punishment etc

Adhere to its principles and he a good student because Saturn is a strict teacher

Do not try to cheat or loot anybody

Don't try to take shortcuts

Don't even think of doing anything "immoral" ,, other people probably get away with that type of stuff but you 100% shouldn't try to imitate them because God will use you as an example 😤

Do not lie to others about anything major

Always be fair and kind

Do not SLACK, always put the work in

Always be punctual and do whatever is required of you

Always be kind to those who are less privileged than you, the elderly, the sick, the poor etc

Be fair and just,, don't be partial to people in ways that hurt others who are perhaps just as deserving

BUILD 👏🏼A 👏🏼ROUTINE 👏🏼

Saturn 🤤loves 🤤 discipline. Wake up at 5 am, do Surya namaskars, do abhyanga, study for class, go to college, come home and do chores. Basically, any opportunity you receive to do work of any kind??? TAKE IT UP and go hard at it

Physically doing work is the fastest way to burn off karmas

You can do yoga or a different kind of exercise as well

Saturn punishes those who are lazy and makes their path harder. Even if you dont care about it, give it your 100% and work hard because Saturn will reward you for it.

[deliciousangelfestival]

My Problematic Girl - Chapter 3

Character: College!Steve Rogers x Rich!Female Reader

Prologue:  Steve has lived being nobody in this prestigious university. He just wants to graduate and get a job to get more money to pay the bills for his mother's surgery. 

But his life turned upside when a new student attended his class. His quiet and dull life became dangerous and full of surprises.

×××

She exhaled the cigarette smoke from her lips. She still doesn’t care even though he told her he has asthma. 

She looked at Steve and said, “Bark for me.”

Steve felt humiliated, and his pride was crushed. But she held his life and secrets. He had to bury his dignity to the ground, and he murmured, 

“Woof.”

******

I would appreciate any comments and feedback you can give me. 

If you want to be tagged in this series, please tell me.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7 ,Chapter 8 , Chapter 9,-

Main Masterlist || Buy me Ko-fi

For a brief moment, he could understand what "happiness" means. His struggle to find a sponsor has been resolved. 

But when she mentioned that ID name, Steve felt naked.

His life is exposed to the whole world. His biggest fear has become a reality. Someone in the uni knew his secrets.

He grabbed Y/N's hand and dragged her until he found a quiet place. 

They weren't running, but Steve had to catch his breath. He felt suffocated. Like someone strangled his neck.

When he found a spot to talk, he released her hand. "Is this the reason why you ask me? What do you want?"

Y/N widened her eyes for a second; then, she chuckled again. "Turned out you can get angry too." 

Steve felt his head going to explode, "You…!!!"

She raises her arm to stop him. "If you think I want to blackmail you. You are partially correct."

Steve's trust in her crumbled, and he stepped away from her. He covered his face with both hands. "Are you going to tell the university?" 

Since she is close to Tony, there's a high chance she will tell him. 

Y/N was taken aback; she seemed offended. "Pfft, no. Why would I want to do that?"

Steve lifted his face; he became more confused. "So, what do you want from me?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Right now, nothing." 

She took out her phone and started texting. While she was looking at the screen, she said, "I will inform you when I find a perfect location for your exhibition."

She doesn't bother with the way Steve look at her. "Word of advice, don't be afraid when someone knows your secret. Ignored them."

Steve clenched his fist. "Seems like you have experienced."

Y/N smirked at him and left. She left him with many questions and doubts.

Back at his apartment, Steve threw his bag to the floor and threw himself to bed. He wished he could turn around time to the day, but Y/N came to the class and ignored her. 

But it's too late now. 

"Bzzt"

"Yoo punk."

Steve sighed heavily; at least today, he could hear a familiar voice.

"What is it, idiot? Did you get hit in the head today?"

"This kid. Don't you want your best friend to become a famous quarterback?"

Steve chuckled. He's talking with Bucky, who studies in other cities at Imperial University. It is also a prestigious university like Stark but is more competitive and has a strong alumnus of doctors, lawyers, and football players. 

Bucky got accepted because of his football scholarship. Both of them are only able to meet on holidays. 

"Hei Bucky."

"What? You sounded like you got hit by a bus."

"I prefer to get hit. Today I meet a b**h."

"Tell me!!!"

Steve sighed heavily; he couldn’t tell everything to Bucky. He only tells him there’s a new student, which gives him stress. 

“Hmm, she sounds like a person I know. Perhaps I’m wrong. Just be careful, Steve.” 

Yeah, he should be careful. He doesn’t know what Y/N has under her sleeves.

A few days later.

Y/N didn't come to the university. It's better that way because he doesn't know how to feel when he sees her, angry or awkward. 

But once again when Steve felt relieved for a moment. Something will come again to disturb his peace. 

'Vroom'

The engine's sounds were loud, taking every student's attention, including Steve, walking towards the gate to go home. 

It was a black sports car, and it stopped beside Steve. He finally knew who the owner was when the car window went down. 

It's Y/N. 

"Get in." 

Steve wants to ignore her but doesn't want to get into trouble and make her mad since she knows his secret. So he gets into the car. 

When he sat down, the smell of expensive leather made him feel rich. The dashboard design also has impressive craftsmanship. No wonder why people like to collect sports cars. It felt like collecting luxury toys. 

"Where are we going?" 

"To the location for your exhibition."

"Huh…"

(An example to show the space for Steve's art exhibition)

'She wasn't joking.'

Steve thought while he walked around the empty studio. This place is huge. It's bigger than his apartment.

"A famous photographer and other artists always rent this place." A property agent is talking with Y/N. He keeps talking about selling aspects to convince her. 

Y/N crossed her arms and nodded. "Send me the contract."

The agent was pleased. "I will send it tomorrow."

"Good. Leave."

After the property agent left, Y/N walked toward Steve while taking another cigarette. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah. Who wouldn't? Every artist would kill to get this place."

Steve still can't believe it.

Nobody from his class could afford this place. Then he remembered nothing in this world is free. "What exactly do you want from me?"

Y/N smiled at him. "In the world of the arts during the Medieval and Early Modern eras, many artists had a wealthy sponsor of their work, a system called patronage. Like Da Vinci and Mozart."

That part is true. Back then, the Catholic church and the pope hired many artists and sculptured to design the church building. They could afford food and a roof over their head. But some artist doesn’t have a good Patreon. Like Van Gogh, who only ate bread and drank wine. Everyone started to adore his art after he committed suicide. 

She inhaled and exhaled the smoke from her lips. "I felt offended you doubted my sincerity, Steve." 

He coughed and cleared his throat; the tobacco smell was too strong.  "But, why me? There's another talented student from the class."

Y/N shook her head. "I already like your 'special work.' Then when I met you and saw your other painting, I knew I had made a perfect choice."

Her compliment made him flattered, but he had to stay on guard. "It's not just an exhibition; you want to sell my painting."

Her face brightened, and she snapped her finger. "That's right Steve. And you will get 80% share."

He gasped; that was a fantastic offer. "You seem confident; do you already have a potential buyer?"

She nodded, "There's a lot of people who want to do money laundering."

‘HUH?!’

Steve raised his eyebrows. Did his ears fool him? 

Did he just hear that? The way she said it is like, 'Tomorrow is Friday.'

"What?"

Y/N confidently answered, "I’m going to use your painting for money laundering."

Steve knees became weak, that made him unable to stand anymore; he thought:

'Dear God, he always prayed for an answer to his financial trouble. But what kind of angel He sent to him? '

Thank you for reading. I hope you like it.

If you have any feedbacks or want to join the tagged list, you can tell me.

I will always be grateful for those who reblog. Thank you so much.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7 ,Chapter 8 , Chapter 9,-

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Join the tag list :

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@starsofcloud

@kandis-mom

@bagoffeelings

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[esta-elavaris]

Okay I made 2342984 incoherent posts about it yesterday but BASICALLY what is happening is that one of the biggest publishing houses in the UK is currently running a thing aimed at writers from underprivileged/marginalised backgrounds - and I meet their requirements in terms of class status, the fact that I come from a dirt poor background, the fact that I'm ace and therefore part of the LGBTQIA community, and the fact that I have anxiety/depression. They ask for a wee paragraph explaining how you meet the quota and I explained this and was like "I was also homeless for 8 months a couple of years ago lol but I worked on this manuscript a lot during that time and it really helped lift my spirits x" because I didn't want to sound like that one fish from spongebob

In addition, they ask for a synopsis of your manuscript, and the first thousand words of it. So I did that, and submitted it all.

I won't find out if I've been longlisted until early July, but like, the smallest thing you can get out of it (if you pass the first stage) is one meeting with one of their editors to get advice. If you're shortlisted, you'll get a series of meetings to help you work on your manuscript a little bit longer-term.

The best case, insane "it's not likely and you can't expect it, but it is possible" is that they have tucked away in the T&Cs that if they really, really like your manuscript, they'll give you a fckn publishing deal.

L I K E

Can you imagine.

So I'm trying not to get too excited, but the fact that everything they might want (1k words for the first submission - done, 5k for the next if longlisted, which would be the first chapter of my novel which is fckn ready to go, and then 40k if you're shortlisted, which I can also absolutely do) are things I already have means like? I lose nothing by just sending them it.

And I mean, even if the best unrealistic amazing case scenario doesn't happen, I could still get actual advice on my actual novel from an actual editor. Along with confirmation that what I'm working on is good enough that they'd even offer me that, which is the part of this project that I struggle with the most.

And the fact that? The very things that make me eligible are the really difficult things I've been through throughout my life? God, that would just be poetic justice.

So I mean, I'm not getting too excited just in case, but it is exciting!!!!

I'm cautiously optimistic. The things I sent them are actually chapters that my uni creative writing teachers fckn loved, and they were published authors, so I know it's good shit, it's just a matter of whether it's what they're looking for, and whether it holds up against whatever else they're being sent. But they do specifically want sci-fi and fantasy and it's fantasy so like !!!

You miss all the shots you don't take, what's for you won't go by you and all that, and if it doesn't work out that's not gonna stop me, but god. Imagine if it does work out!!!!

[hwaightme]

Your fan, San (part 2)

(part 1) (your fan ml)

💬 pairing: san x interpreter!reader 💬 genre: romance, fluff, mutual pining, drama 💬 summary: a bulletpoint-style wordstream of what it would be like if san was stanning you 💬 wordcount: 4.5k 💬 warnings/tags: language, conflict, two shy dorks, homie sabotage?, misunderstandings, love above all, touring, busy life, reader is a pro linguist, we stan simpteez, unedited oop- 💬 taglist: @acciocriativity, @doom-fics, @layzfeelit @jcngh0-hq @black--awsum @honey-lemon-goose @i-luvsang @jackinmyarea , @izuijin @justhere4kpop 💬 a/n: Hello there <3 here is PART 2 of YOUR FAN SAN!! Hopeless romantic? Check. Chaotic? Check... and the FINALE is coming soon??? ;~; P.S. that uni life do be getting wild so apologies if I'll be haphazardly uploading or if trains of thought are derailed~

'The Beauty of Falling in Love - a collection of short stories, poems and musings'

That was the title of the book you had to translate. And if you were not a (fully) sappy and sentimental mess before, you sure as hell were now. Because each little chapter, be it an anonymous recollection of favourite moments with a loved one, or a vignette dedicated to someone special, was some of the most heartwarming work you have ever read.

Each piece sounded so personal, so real, that you found yourself spending more time than usual on this commission. You had made an agreement with the client that they would be sending chapters out one by one, and prior to receiving one, you would send back a completed translation.

It was an easy enough arrangement, and was not too taxing when it came to your personal time. You could ruin your sleep schedule to your heart's content by watching dramas that you had missed whilst on tour, could make late night trips to the convenience store because you did not want to be caught in the businessperson rush, could catch up with people who you had inadvertently ghosted because of work and inability to find words when you wanted to.

Outside of your preferred mode of relaxation, you kept in touch with some of the members of ATEEZ, thanks to a group chat that San had created and 'simply had to add you' - at least that was how he had advertised it. The group chat consisted of him, you, Wooyoung, Yunho and Yeosang, who to you seemed like a random pick, since you did not interact with neither Yunho nor Yeosang as much.

But over a very short period of time this had changed for the better, and you had grown very comfortable, attached even, to the chaotic quartet. If anything this it was a top up vaccine for being able to keep up with the ATEEZ chaos - otherwise you would be familiarising yourself with it again for tour, as if it was the first day of work.

Little did you know, you were talking with the Operation ring leaders + Yeosang who was in it for the gossip, and to control the fire... in the way he wished. It was more or less a regular conversation, aside from San occasionally panicking and running up to one of the guys for advice.

"Yeo why did you write 'AMOGUS'?"

"Don't question me. This is art- ah see, Y/N sent the prayer hands emoji, she agrees." Yeosang responded, pointing at his phone screen.

"I feel like you guys are six parallel universes ahead of me and I don't like it."

"Make that ten, you boomer."

"This is an ancient meme you are quoting Yeo~" Wooyoung joined in, trying to poke fun at his friend.

"Say that again, the king of social boomers? Are you salty that I did not put hyung after AMOGUS because it's old?"

"What even is this chat-" Mingi, who was observing from his position lying across three dining chairs, threw the question out into the air.

"It is us trying to force San to dm Y/N by pushing them together like two dolls." Wooyoung, slightly irritated, explained.

"Man, you really are done." Mingi responded, chuckling

"I don't know, am I? San is breaking up with me so I am going through all stages of grief."

"Double u tee eff?" San raised an eyebrow and stared at Wooyoung, phone loose in his hands.

"How far along is she?"

"She isn't pregnant dude."

"Ugh you know what I mean."

"Like... a third of the way?"

"Damn you guys are slow as shit. We planned for this to take how long? You even have the confession already written up for the last chapter, this is kind of ridiculous. You know what, hold up."

Wooyoung tackled San, and thanks to the surprise nature of the attack, got the perfect opportunity to grab his friend's phone. After securing 'the bag', Wooyoung strode off to the other side of the room, clicking away, while San attempted to stand up, shouting.

Yunho seemed to have caught onto what the other was about to do, as he launched himself at the shorter man sat on the sofa and splayed himself right over like a blanket.

"No hard feelings bro this is necessary."

As San way trying to battle his way out, but was further restrained by Yeosang who had finally stopped taking photos, Wooyoung giggled deviously and locked the phone again, sauntering back with a devilish grin and handing it to San.

"It is done. You can thank me later."

"What did you do?"

"Something that you should have done like... a year ago."

"DID YOU TEXT HER?"

"Yeah. And don't worry, nothing Woo-style, you grilled me enough times for me to remember her preferences. Plus, I know how to text like you."

"And when did that come in handy?"

"Uh... I have to go water my fish BYEEE~" Wooyoung quickly departed from the living room sprinting back to the dorm, while San remained in shock, swiping at the screen to reveal the message that his friend had sent on his behalf.

Damn. It really was just like him.

The text came to you as a surprise. Though you have had some conversations over private message before, most of them had been in some way work related. Not San messaging you out of the blue to ask how you were and that you should catch up.

With the group chat all but abandoned, you happily launched into texting San. There was never any pressure for a phone call, which you greatly appreciated, and there was no specific guidelines that either of you enforced - without a care you double, triple, quadruple texted, abruptly disappeared only to reappear with a link or a photo... main things was that together, you kept your conversation alive and thriving.

You would have never, not in a million years, imagined yourself getting this close to San, or anyone with a celebrity status for that matter. Simply because you felt like they would need and deserve more than you could offer socially. You were all about human connection and uniting minds, but when it came to your own personal preferences, you would much rather write out your thoughts in astonishing detail and hit send, than say the same things out loud and to somebody in person.

And yet, contrary to your assumptions and what you could only say had been prejudice on your part, San was supportive of you and of your choices, saying he could 'imagine your voice well enough anyways'. He steered clear of pushing you to communicate in a style that was not yours; though you did enjoy hearing his voice, and would be lying if you said he was not a charmer, you could not bring yourself to reciprocate that approach. It was too overwhelming to do during the time that you had allocated for yourself as your regenerative state. And San made your heart melt by showing that he got that, without you having to tear yourself apart and explain.

To him it had been fairly easy to figure out that you were a text over call kind of person, and was something that he had advertised to the Operation Love Language squad. Given your notes app being packed, post it notes sometimes threatening to pour out of your bag, and him spotting you willingly sitting far away from any groups so you could watch something, earphones in, all pointed to that conclusion. And San found that he liked it more than he would have guessed.

Each text was like a memory, and an expression not only of something that they wanted to blurt out, but more often than not of a considered, weighed out opinion, even if it was onomatopoeia or a string of emojis. He would have never been able to get to know you like he did over text, and get so close to you that you were now happily discussing with him your own worries, and passions, and dreams, not just responding to his stream of musings and questions.

It was through one of these extensive texting sessions that you had revealed to San your endeavors as a freelance translator, and gushed about the commission you were working on.

This made San's thumbs freeze midway through typing. Carried away and impatient, he had tried to strike on all fronts, and now that he was in continuous communication with you, he regretted it. Deeply. Except he did not yet know just how risky the decision to parade as someone he was not could be.

After the first time you had mentioned your side work, he had begun to get progressively more quiet. Bit by bit. Until his responses to you turned almost into a conversation with a wall. You were unable to figure out just what had gotten into San, what had changed?

You turned to the work you were meant to translate as a distraction, expecting that the client would have shared the new chapter with you already... but no such thing.

Instead, there was an order cancellation, and a short apology.

What did you do wrong?

What happened?

Was there something that had not been quite right?

You looked over your already completed translations - you were searching for anything to suggest a reason for cancellation. The words appeared blurry, fading into one big mush. It was all terrible... wasn't it?

Who were you kidding you were probably rusty after not working with fiction for so long, and for not focusing hard enough. You had stopped paying attention to the craft. Who even were you? And interpreter, a translator, or a fraud?

You looked at the cancellation email again, knowing full well that it was pointless to try and reach the customer - they might have blocked you for all you knew. This hurt. This really hurt.

You saw that San had responded to your messages, again in a weirdly cheery tone, asking you how you are and what you have been up to? San would understand... right? San would listen to you...?

So you did something that you yourself did not expect, and pressed on the call button. He picked up on the first ring.

He sounded nervous, and almost tearful as you bared all and talked him through what had just happened. You needed him. He was the only one who had understood your language.

When you told him that you were probably over reacting and just humiliating yourself by being 'so deep in sad mode' over a whole lot of nothing, he instantly was there to catch you and call you out. He emphasised the importance of your work, of the beautiful job you had done so far... but then halted, unsure of how to proceed.

This left you confused. He then picked his words in a strangely careful manner, and almost beginning to side with the customer, saying how maybe it was for the better, and that now at least you could relax and find another project...

"San. This is really unlike you. What is up with that personality switch?"

"What do you mean Y/N? It's nothing-"

"I have an ear for speech, San, if there is anyone who could be a bullshit filter, it is me."

Silence.

More silence.

You were about to call out to him again, when you hear a muffled, barely there whisper:

"I'm sorry..."

You were sent reeling. What did he mean? Why was he sorry?

"I... it was me. Y/N. I am sorry. I really did not mean it to turn out that way I-"

"Okay first of all, why?"

"I..."

"Second of all, whilst I am grateful for your support and stuff, it does make me uncomfortable."

"I'm-"

"Thirdly, actually you know what focus on point number one."

When you did not hear an answer, you tried again: "Hello? I am waiting."

"I like you."

"...What?" you were left in shock.

You had suppressed your feelings for San in the deepest caverns of your soul out of the terror that it was bound to be unrequited, but here you were. Listening to that same man who had supported you from the beginning of your career to now (and exposing yet another ridiculous attempt at that), who had read your quirks and style and knew you better than most. Listening to him confess.

"I... how do I say this... it has been a while. A long while. I have been trying to approach you but... I was either too shy for it, or the attempts were just ridiculous. So we- so I came up with this idea, to try and tell you... this book right. The Beauty of Falling in Love. It is... it spoke to me. And I had planned to give it to you piece by piece until I could then reveal myself to you... but then we started talking outside of that and then I panicked and- yeah, I am... I am just so sorry, this is confusing as hell."

"Wait... wait wait... this is... so were you paying me to get me to like you? Was that what you were doing?"

"GOSH! NO! NO, DON'T MISUNDERSTAND!"

"Look. As much as I do like bringing joy to people through my work, this crosses a line. And it's not the fact that you ordered something from me - hell, support the artist right? It's the fact that you decided to be somebody else. You decided to conceal yourself to talk to me. Like you did not trust me. Even though you want me to like you.

I'll be returning the money to you shortly. M-kay? And... talk on stage, I guess."

Before San could respond, you ended the call sharply. No more phone calls. They were cursed, apparently.

With these thoughts, and a heavy heart, you departed for Japan.

---

"Maybe... just maybe if you had seen it through and not abandoned ship... your ship could have sailed?"

"Yunho just because it's your idea does not mean is good!" San retorted, having recounted the story to the members, gone into full crisis mode.

"Hello!? You agreed? I am just generating ideas here."

"I think we all blew this out of proportion and did not consider risks... at all." Mingi interjected, massaging his temples.

"You guys, I have an idea-" Wooyoung began, but was quickly cut off by San, who was already half way out of the door.

"You know what? I am done with the ideas. I will just do what I think is right."

---

You were conflicted. In a way, you had gotten what you wanted. A confession from your crush that you had been quietly keeping in the shadows. But at the same time, your anxiety spiked. Were you that unapproachable that San had to have twisted everything to get to you? Was your work more entertaining than you could ever be?

With these thoughts, and a heavy heart, you departed for Japan.

If your presence was not explicitly required at the venue, you would not go. Once an event ended, you would leave. If anything, you were acting just like any employee would.

You were trying to bury the conflicting feelings that you were experiencing. To an extent, you felt disrespected. Like you had been mistreated via the means of 'i am using your translation services so you should love me'. And it was one unpleasant thought.

So, you stuck to what you knew and were more or less confident in. Words that were not yours. ideas that were not yours. Feelings that were not yours.

In a matter of an hour after the first small event, however, you could not sulk in your room how you wanted, thanks to a random slip of paper being shoved under your door. You ran across the room and slammed it open in an attempt to catch the culprit, but there was no one in sight.

You gingerly picked up the papers, and read. It was unmistakable. It was the next chapter of the book, with an interesting translation on another sheet of paper, and an additional note.

"I am sorry, and I can only hope that you will read this and let me fight. <3 San"

As much as you were ready to forgive him then and there, you decided that you wanted to see just how far he was going to go.

The next morning - another letter had arrived. The next chapter, a translation, and another note.

During filming for a morning show, San had shot you numerous glances in an attempt to see whether you were even reading what he had been Amazon Priming to your room, but with a cheeky smile dancing on your lips, you let your fun continue.

Another package.

And another.

And another. Until, finally, the last chapter had arrived. At least that was what you thought right up until the evening of the same day. You had assumed that it was going to now be your turn to act, or at least to start talking again, but a loud knock jolted you out of your thoughts.

And another.

And another knock on the door. This man was an unstoppable force.

"I... I translated the last one. Well, tried to."

"But there were only eleven stories-"

"Nope, twelve. Here."

You saw a two pieces of paper appear from under the door, just like before. Except instead of the Korean page being a scan from the book, it was evidently a document that either San... or somebody else, had typed up, and then managed to print.

To be respectful, you attempted to read the Japanese, but soon enough gave up since the kanji somehow managed to look cursive, and instead took the Korean text in your hands.

You took a seat with your back against the door and knees almost flush against your chest, and began to read, your heart rate picking up pace as soon as you saw "Dear Y/N,".

It began as a little story. A re-telling of how both of you had met, and how you had come to own a little space in his heart, eventually leading to him simply giving it to you.

"Did you know that you look so beautiful in those moments when you don't think anyone is watching? The more I think about it, the more I feel like it has been what had drawn me in. How you typed and typed on your phone. If time allowed, I liked to try guessing whether you were going to switch the keyboard at some point or not. How you were and are in your element. And of course, how you are, simply, you."

He recalled the moments that you two had shared. The levels of pride and admiration he felt when he saw you being approached and congratulated by the fans, and when he could take a moment to just enjoy what you did.

San moved to explaining 'the plan' to you, and though you were ready to scold him then and there (especially since there was the door between you that made confrontation easier), you could not help but admit that the general notion (aside from making affection and crushing on someone a monetary exchange - better not put feels on Etsy) was heartwarming.

As it turned out, both of you were shy dorks who could not act on feelings. Admittedly, one of you was a LOUD shy dork and the other a 'language is life but still can't read between the lines' shy dork, but at least you made it here.

San was a nervous wreck, barely stopping himself from either pacing up and down the corridor or going into a meltdown and lying face down on the carpet. He already looked suspicious enough as is, just standing by a random hotel number like a vampire who had been refused entry.

Or perhaps more accurately, like a cat who had been shut out of the house and was now desperately trying to claw its way back in.

But that stress was quickly washed away when your form suddenly appeared before him, peeking out, drowning in an oversized hoodie. The papers were still clenched in your hand as you motioned for San to come in.

You waited until he was right in the middle of the room before closing the door. Part of you was afraid that he was going to nope out at any moment. You needed the reassurance. The confidence that was normally there when you were working. But every fiber of your being was screaming in protest, wanting simply to hide.

You observed him. He looked like he was barely breathing.

"I... really I am... so sorry... again... I know that it was so fooli-"

"私でもあなたのことが好きだ..." (I like you too)

"eXCUSEME?!"

"All this translating and you still can't process?" you joked, but began to pull on the drawstrings of your hoodie in an attempt to make your face disappear.

"ohHH NoONOOO I just want to hear you say it in every language that you know!!!" San exclaimed and in a matter of seconds was inches away, peeking at what was not yet concealed by the fluffy cotton.

As he leaned closer and closer, flustering you (and himself) in the process and took both of your hands in his, in the last leap of bravery you whispered:

"Well that, you'll have to earn, San. And I don't take traditional currency."

"You will never let that go."

"Never ever, Choi San, it's a core memory now."

"Well hey at least it means you are not letting go of me~"

"Oh the way you twist words..."

"Like you twist me around your finger, not to give you an ego trip or anything..."

"It's 'wrap'. The correct word is 'wrap' around a finger."

"Okay you know what how about I translate it to body language?" he puckered his lips, making you giggle.

"As long as I don't need to correct grammatical errors."

"Now now I'd say I'm fluent."

--

The habit of sliding notes under your door or passing them to you did not stop - it only got stronger and became an 'any location', Mission Impossible note transfer agreement.

It had become something of a game, muddling languages together and writing near-nonsense just to sit there almost crying, trying not to laugh.

Soon enough, the game spread to Wooyoung, who would on occasion intercept the messages and add in his own flair, and soon enough to a curious Yunho and Mingi, who then turned it into impromptu paper plane throwing tournaments.

Really, the only reason why Hongjoong did not intercept was because you managed to at least keep the messages under strict PG rating and had good aim - with a saving swoop you had managed to return one such airmail right into San's lap during a fan sign, leading ATINY to give you an additional "aimbot" title.

It did not matter what the schedule was, you left each other encouraging notes (and without the other knowing, stored them away in your luggage).

"Good luck being the first one to get hair and makeup done..."

"Good luck with the translation deal on the book <3" (after an entire evening of a pouting and pleading San, you had reached out to the editors of the romance book you had translated for him, and now were in very promising negotiations)

You raced ahead, in time with each other, creating your own language.

The extended time ATEEZ had spent in Japan was coming to an end, and in the blink of an eye, it was the final concert. The "closing remarks", the epilogue.

You were prepared to interpret in full, as always. One member down. Another... finally, it was only San left. The other members were looking at him expectantly, while some sent glances in your approximate direction.

You took Hongjoong's tranquility and him nudging San in the shoulder as a sign that no, you will not have to pretend he said something different and double speak it - whatever he was about to do was, apparently, captain certified.

At that moment, San pulled out a note from a pocket that you had no idea even existed. The action seemed to have the same effect on ATINY as they "oooohed" - Yunho fake whispered into the microphone that San was now a part-time magician, so these things were the norm.

You had your microphone at the ready. With bated breath, you waited for San to begin. And that, he did.

In Japanese.

Grammatically correct, coherent and well-delivered Japanese.

Even though some of the phrases were obviously not his style and word selection, leading you to imagine him poring over this text like he was writing the declaration of independence with the boys, it was him. It was his feeling. It was his message.

Your arm fell to your side with a thud, and you were grateful that your microphone had been turned off for the time being. You caught yourself gaping, and had to forcibly compose yourself to reveal only a soft smile, as you took the scene in.

San was not exactly trying to hide that he was paying special attention to a specific part of the arena, with his body turned almost completely in your direction and only a few glances off to the sides and at the note.

"...and I hope that we will always be together, as one, and share this world. sometimes there may be struggle, there may be darkness, but WE," he makes a grand gesture with his hand, as if highlighting the area in front of him, but really it was just to, again, symbolise that certain someone at the forefront of his mind, "will last, and be the light."

The crowd roared, and you could allow yourself to internally combust as you watched ATEEZ wave, bow and bid their farewells.

Some things did not need a translation to be understood, and some things were not up for interpretation.

Like how San sprinted to you as soon as he was out of public sight. How he swept you off your feet both literally and metaphorically.

How Jongho muttered 'get a room', but still smiled at both of you when he passed by.

How, upon your return to South Korea, he had practically made it his mission to dote on you, and any moment he got, show that you were together.

Matching plushies? Check.

Basically exposing you both on Late Night Dive (though there was not really anything to expose because the entire ordeal was almost a live streamed ATEEZ drama)? Check.

Happily chatting away with ATINY about love and about finding it, sending loving stares your way? Check.

This was the love language you shared. No hiding, no scheming. Two native speakers, who found each other in translation.

[monstress]

hii. if u dont mind, could u please share that "change of attitude" towards journaling? i feel like i really need that.. since i myself changed my attitude towards drawing and have been much more productive and happy doing it this last year. however Writing About Myself its another beast completely.. hope u r having a nice day! 🍃

hope you're having a lovely day as well! anyways as i was typing this up, what starts as a small tidbit has gone off the rails so i suppose this is my blanket advice as a newbie in journaling:

the materials!

choosing the titular journal aka notebook:

soft vs hard cover - i didn't realize this is SUCH a deciding factor until much later. most people prefer soft covers since journals can get massive with use but it's very subjective. be tactile - if it just don't feel right in ur hands, it's not gonna be something u reach out for when u have free time.

size - the most common sizes are A5, A6 or regular aka travelers notebook. you have to think abt who you are as a writer. do u have a large handwriting that takes up pages and pages? do you like space or are you overwhelmed by a blank page? do you travel a lot and do u want something unobtrusive in your bag? choose something that will reasonable work as a part of your daily life.

paper texture - paper that is smooth to write in are a great source of pleasure. notebooks with 100gsm paper is a good benchmark.

price - pleaseeee do not break the bank to purchase a fancy notebook. an expensive notebook can become an unloved one. you'd be too stressed to ensure every entry is perfect and pretty enough and the notebook eventually becomes too intimidating for you to fill in. check out your local hypermarket or online stores for quality notebooks. moleskins are overrated--in my country, they are v v expensive so don't feel pressure to buy a certain stationary just bc you see them often on ig/tiktok like my journal cost me approximately RM10 (USD2.34) and my new one w 100gsm paper cost me RM17 (USD4) like affordable options are out there!

build a connection with your notebook - listen...this sounds strange but having an attachment with your journal and making it inviting as possible is a great source of motivation. personalize it: add stickers, doodle or paint the cover. get a fabric/pvc cover to keep it clean if you'd like (you can add lil papers/stickers on ur actual notebook cover before putting on the pvc cover! very cute and easy)

and your pens:

again: less is more! use any relatively cheap pens you like - be it for the ink or smoothness. if you want to journal a lot, expect to lose a few pens during traveling or just around the house lmao

for fans of darker inks like me, i use Uni-ball Signo Broad, M&G R3 retractable gel pen and my favorite: Faber Castell RX Gel Pen 0.38mm - which cost like RM1.49 (i dont wanna convert - it's change money in america)

final note: i don't use fountain pens so i'm afraid i'm not well-versed enough to advise in that department but i deeply respect (and a little in awe) of journallers who use them 🫡

the tenet!

purpose: what do u plan to use the notebook for? daily journal? art journal? planner? all three? it's your life! live deliciously! since i have a 9-5 job, i know i can't keep up with more than one journal so i've been using mines as a diary and i dump my daily activities/thoughts/reviews of all kinds of media i'm currently obsessed with and it fills up quick!

don't be too hard on yourself: if you missed a day or two of journalling, it's fine - take it back up. write down anything memorable you'd like in the past few days. if you come across a certain blank page your brain is blanking to fill, perhaps after a previous dark entry, skip the page. skip two pages if needed. don't be scared of blank pages. if it needs to be blank, let it be.

it doesn't have to only be words! add stickers, dried flowers, receipts, ticket stubs, other ephemera you collected in the day. be artful! go crazy on page decoration!!

if there's anything you take away from this post, it's this: if you truly want a journal that is used up quickly, do not have plans to share it on social media. personally, i find once you are in the mindset of sharing your journal for an audience's consumption, you get worried whether it's "aesthetic" enough or is it too boring or too ugly or too dark or that you don't upload regularly enough. social media can be inhibiting your creativity or motivation to journal like let your animal brain ruminate in private! stay free from the shackles of responsibility!

[plantinghobbies]

The Same Damn Thing - Part 3

Haven’t read the previous parts? Catch up here!

@solipsisticno1 and I are so grateful to everyone who’s read and supported our little Valentine’s collab that has (to absolutely no one’s surprise) taken almost the entirety of February to get three parts done. But we are halfway there! Hope you enjoy!

Part 3: “…I knew you’d haunt all of my what if’s” - Taylor Swift——————————————————————————————————

Val avoids him after that, volunteering for work trips no one else wants. A day here, two days there add up to weeks before she knows it. It’s harder when she’s in the office but not impossible. She’s the first out of the conference room after a meeting, flying out the door with her nose in her phone in case he follows her. And the last one there at night, only leaving her office after she knows he’s gone for the day. She’s subsisting on non-perishable foods for lunch and is shocked she hasn’t developed a UTI from holding it all day but both these bleak realities are better than the thought of being alone with him again. Of the whoosh in her stomach as it drops when she sees him, the heat that pools seemingly everywhere at the thought of what almost happened. What did happen.

Before she knows it, it’s May and her mum is texting her to ask whether she’s coming home on the 24th. Val dreads the day each year. Not the actual anniversary of her sister’s death (though that’s the worst day of the year) but the one where she disappoints her parents again by saying she won’t be there with them to relive the worst day of their lives. It’s not that they’ll be alone - her aunt always comes down and Val’s cousin who lives in town stops by - but she knows it’s not the same. The first year she had tried, but everything in her told her it wasn’t where she needed to be. After they went to bed, Val had thrown her bag in the car, driving until her mind subconsciously brought her back to the last place she’d felt close to Marin - physically and metaphorically. The calm that engulfed her when she stepped onto the damp grass of the courtyard felt like a relief and a selfish indulgence at the same time. 

Ever since then, Val had come back to campus every year on the anniversary, making up work trips and last minute emergencies to avoid telling her mom the truth - that being home with them didn’t bring her anywhere near the comfort that being there did. That the best times of her life were at uni that year.

The 24th dawns with a bright sun and cloudless sky. There’s a slight chill in the air as Val catches the train to her destination, wrapping her hands up in the long sleeves of her jacket. It’s not even 7:30 when she makes it to campus, wanting to avoid the Saturday early birds at the farmers market that wasn’t there when she was in school.

Lying down in the grass under her favorite tree, she tries to remember the bits of advice she picked up in the grief group that she’d gone to for a few months. Use the day to remember old memories, but also to make new ones, your loved one is always with you. (Val’s not sure that she believes that but  she has pictured Marin standing beside her during particularly difficult times over the years and it has helped). 

Flashes of memories play against her eyelids - Halloween when the whole group had dressed up as Mario Kart characters, complete with little cardboard cars that had been left in a pile by the dumpster of their favorite bar after they couldn’t squeeze into the booth with them on. Marin’s face when Val had given her her secret Santa gift - a limited edition of Mary Oliver’s first collection that Val had spent three months saving every penny she had to pay for (worth it).  Matty’s and Marin’s drunken duet of Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, cackling when Matty’s voice cracked around the high notes, his indignant claims that he was sick, not just shit at karaoke. 

The memories transport her back, so vivid that Matty’s voice sounds like it’s right next to her. 

“Val? Val, you ok?” A hand wraps around her shoulder gently and she bolts up to sitting, throwing an elbow out on instinct that catches the offender with a low “umph.” It sounds familiar. 

The “fuck me” he whispers lowly confirming what she already knew. A part of her wants to keep her eyes closed - to continue to live in her memories instead of face the reality in front of her. Out of sight, out of mind. 

“Ummm listen I didn’t mean to….” No such luck. 

Her eyes peel open slowly, blinking against the heavy sun. Sunglasses would have been smart. He’s crouched in front of her, one hand on the ground to balance himself, the other resting on his knee (the bad one. Val remembers the brace he had to wear for weeks after he twisted it trying to learn football tricks to prove he was better at it than James). 

“What are you doing here?” The accusation in her voice isn’t intentional but he reacts to it, steeling his shoulders and leaning back away from her. 

“Same thing you are I reckon.” A smile pulls at his lips before he seems to think better of it and tugs it back in. 

Of course, the one year that she is actively trying to avoid him, they end up here at the same time. She’s not surprised he had the same idea, he always did like ceremony. “Do you, umm, do you want to grab a coffee? Talk? Or not talk?” She is surprised by the invitation, her behavior over the last few months wasn’t exactly hospitable. But then again, neither was his. 

He looks lost, eyes sunken into heavy bags as he gazes up at her through his lashes. She wonders how long they’ve been there. His fingers twitch around a cigarette the isnt’ there. She shouldn’t, she shouldn’t, she - “Uh yea, sure.” Clearly he’s retained his ability to charm her into doing things against her better judgment. 

They walk to an old haunt where he used to sing at open mic nights, the destination unspoken between them. It’s only when they’re sat face to face, steaming mugs between them, that she realizes the mistake she’s made. Her other interactions with him since the incident (as she’s taken to calling it in her head) have been short, work-related, no direct eye contact or conversation needed. 

It seems it’s dawning on him as well. Matty traces the rim of his mug and then clears his throat.

“I uh I -“ He mutters something under his breath that sounds like “Christ man” before continuing “Uh, how’s the rest of your day been?”

Val snorts as she looks up at him but he beats her to a retort “Fuck me, I’m sorry, dumbest question ever. Don’t answer that. I just - I don’t know what to say after - “ 

“Don’t.” It comes out sharper than she intended. But she can’t think of that night, of what Marin would think. Not today at least. Maybe not ever. 

They’re plunged into silence once again. Matty fidgets and crosses his leg, knocking the bag over that Val hadn’t noticed he’d been carrying until now. 

“What’s that?” She knows he hates small talk but chickens out for safe ground. 

“Baby onesie from the bookstore.” Her eyebrow arches, eyes flitting between him and the bag. “No, not what you’re thinking. Not for me. For the kid. I mean, not for my kid, I don’t have one.” He’s always been cute when he rambles. Fuck. “It’s for James’ baby.” 

Her surprise must show on her face. “Oh I didn’t realize he had one?” 

“Yea, just a few days ago. He and his husband - he’s a great guy, you’d like him. As patient as you’d imagine you’d have to be to put up with Jay.” His voice bears no judgement though it’s clear he knows that she hasn’t kept up with anyone beyond perfunctory texts.  It’s not that she’d gone out of her way to cut ties. But after she’d transferred schools, it became so easy to pretend she was someone else - someone who knew what they were doing, someone who didn’t pine after a guy who didn’t want her (at least not in the way she wanted). Someone who hadn’t lost her favorite person (people, really). She liked that version of herself - confident, detached, focused - more than the sad, lonely, and depressed reality that she was trying so hard to hide. And her friends would have seen right through her. So she kept them from seeing. 

It’s the odd silence that draws Val out of her thoughts and back to the table. Right, Matty had been talking about James. “Aaah so he hasn’t slowed down with age?”

The smile he gives her then is small but warm. “Nope, far from it. I think the older he gets, the more frantic he gets about the number. Trying to squeeze as much wild shit in as possible. I mean, it’s crazy but life is short, you kn-

Val watches as he pulls up, looking for all the world like he wanted to shovel the words back down his throat. Eyes flitting everywhere but her face.

“I mean -“ On instinct, her hand is covering his, not able to see him anxious even after all these years. 

“Matty, I think we both know.” 

He cocks his head at her hand, and she pulls it back. Aware that it’s the first time they’ve touched since That Night. 

“Can we talk about something else? Please.” God she’s a prick but after a morning spent solely focused on sad, she needs some relief. Hopes he won’t mind. 

He snaps his jaw shut, clearly taken aback with the desperation in her voice. “Uh, yea, course. I’m sure it’s tough to think about today…” (Truth is, she could talk about Marin all day. Matty and Marin, that was a different story). 

Eye contact seems to be hard for both of them, each flitting around for something to distract from the heavy intimacy that has settled over them. God, why did she say yes to this. Their relationship - she indulges herself with using that term to describe it - is one third rail topic after another. 

And just like so many times before, Matty throws her a lifeline. “Did you hear that I’m still office snooker champion?”

The laugh she barks out startles the sleeping baby at the table next to her, both of its mothers sending her death glares as the hiccuping cries begin. “What the fuck? How’d that happen?”

A cheshire grin settles on Matty’s features as he leans in conspiratorially “Fucking cheaters. They got Dawes - he was judging, remember? Well they got him drunk and then kept fudging the score. Someone caught them and turned them into the party police.” 

Val settles against the back of her chair, crossing her arms. “It was you, wasn’t it?” 

His laugh sends a spark from her ears to her toes. “Now what would give you that impression.”

“Besides the fact that I saw you bring Dawes four rounds of shots?” 

“I think you’re mistaken.” 

“Even if I was, there’s no one else who cares enough about that competition to go through the trouble of reporting that.” Matty’s eyes narrow as she points at him, following the path of her fire-engine red nail. “Except you.”

The grin he was trying to suppress earlier breaks free. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She’d missed his mischievous look, like the cat that swallowed the canary.

“Oh well my mistake then.”

“Too right.” 

Another memory.“You remember when Daisy tried to impress that guy and ended up needing to replace the whole top of the snooker table at Shea’s?” 

“Oh my god - and we all nearly went broke because of it. Who the fuck knew felt could cost that much?” Matty says, raising his mug to his lips before realizing it was empty. He sets it down gently, looking between his mug and her forehead (he’s struggling to look at her, which would offend her if she wasn’t also mesmerizing his hairline right back). “Umm I’m getting another. You want one?”

The line had grown substantially since they’d come in, giving her plenty of time to observe him as he waited with their mugs. More time than she allowed herself at work, always worried about people’s noses stares and misguided assumptions about their relationship. There’s that word again. Time had been good to him, preserved his boyish good looks but filled them out, added a little ruggedness that was laughable when she thought back on how posh he’d grown up. Matty had struck up a conversation with the woman in front of him (of course he had) and not for the first time, Val wonders what he’s been up to since uni. Who he’s been spending his time with, the information that she can’t get from LinkedIn and the abandoned social media accounts she found one night after a few glasses of wine. He was always charming but watching him try to pull (she assumes, the woman looks like his type) now, she can see the quiet confidence that wasn’t there all those years ago when they sat in this dingy coffee shop, splitting pastries for lunch to save cash so they’d be able to buy more drinks at the pub later. That time seems like a million years ago now.

Val wishes that she could have outgrown her crush on him like she’d outgrown so many other things from that time. She didn’t need to flirt with the barista for free leftovers at the end of the day, could afford the good gin instead of the rail shit that was so bitter that she had to chase it with fries. Adulthood had changed a lot - but not everything. Her eyes still find him in any room they’re in, her laughter still bubbles up at his dark jokes, and her heart still stutters when Matty’s lips twitch into a soft, familiar smile when his gaze catches hers. Like it is right now. Fuck.

It’s not even worth pretending that she wasn’t staring as he makes his way back over, her eyes tracking his moves as he weaves around student’s backpacks and groups of friends huddled around a table meant for just two. 

“Jesus, that took forever.” Tea dribbles over the lip of the mug as he passes it to her. 

“Well, seemed like you enjoyed the company while you waited.” It was supposed to sound teasing but comes out with a hint of possessiveness that she hopes he misses. “You get her number?” Great save, Val. 

Matty cocks his head at her comment, that knowing gaze of his back in full force. “Um noooo. She asked if I’d been here before, couldn’t decide between the sticky bun and the chocolate croissant. I told her to go with the sti-

“Sticky bun” they chime at the same time. 

“Exactly. Told her she should go with that unless she liked the taste of stale poo in a dry diaper. Then the croissant would be the obvious choice.”

“Ewww” Val’s nose turns up at the visual. “I can’t believe she was charmed by that.” 

Matty’s eyebrow perks up. “Oh, she was, was she?”

“Fuck off, like you didn’t know. They could probably see the bedroom eyes she was giving you from bloody space.” 

The shirt he’s wearing rides up as he crosses his hands behind his head, subtle flex in his biceps. “Well, looks like I still got it.” 

Doesn’t she know it. Flashbacks of the incident erupt behind her eyes. His hand up her skirt.  His filthy words. His fingers as he sucked them clean of her. No no no no no.

Attacking his ego feels like safer ground. “Yes, congratulations, you can still pull undergrads.”

Matty opens his mouth to retort but then looks around, clocking the other patrons as if for the first time. “Jesus, was she that young? I can’t tell anymore.”

The same thought had occurred to Val every year she’d come back here.  “I know, right?! I feel like we were younger at that age.” She risks a glance up at him, finds his warm eyes focused on her. “If that makes any sense…” 

“Yea, I get it.” Matty always seemed to get it, to get her. 

Val isn’t sure if it’s the familiar surroundings or the memories that they unlock, but as they talk, the tension that laced each word when they first sat down is easing. Enough that she remembers the man in front of her, the kind of person he was. Is still probably. She’s flooded with feelings, confusing ones that have her heart in her throat, but also comforting ones, friendly ones, nostalgic ones. She missed this. Missed him. She wonders if he feels it too. 

A comfortable lull settles over them. The half-empty sugar packet spills onto the table as she fiddles with it. For the first time since they reentered each other’s lives, it feels easy to talk to him. 

She takes a deep breath, “Listen, I -“ 

Just as he starts to say “About that night -“

Their words collide and they fall silent again. For the first time in she doesn’t know how long (yes she does), the fog of loneliness that followed her around like an imaginary friend had lifted. She felt lighter, the world a little less gray. She wanted to hold onto that feeling and he was going to fuck it all up. What would she even say?! Oh, that night? You mean the one where I almost exposed my years long lo- CRUSH - on you? Came on to you? At our workplace? Mistook your concern for interest, like I always have. That night?! Nope, no memory of it at all. The feminist in her - who sounds an awful lot like Marin - screams that this isn’t a completely accurate characterization, it taking two to tango and all. But Val’s also a champion at self-criticism - Olympic gold-level really - and she’s the one who’d drunkenly started it. She can’t blame him for trying to finish it, even if it was a monumentally stupid idea. 

The tension was back. She needed to get control of the conversation. “You first.” Always a gentleman. A good man. Someone she needed to have in her life again, even if it’s not in exactly the way that she wants. 

“I was going to say, I uh I missed this. Us.” Her chair scrapes as she sits up with the force of gathering her courage for the next part. She’s spent almost ten years rehearsing her next words, in texts she never sent. The words tumble out of her before she can lose her nerve. “I’m sorry I was such a shit friend back then - “She throws up a hand to silence the retort she knows is on the tip of his tongue. “No, just don’t. I was, even if I had a good reason.”

He sits back, palms up in response. “But I’m here now and I’d like a second chance at it. Being friends again…..if you’ll let me, I mean.”

The breath she takes gets stuck somewhere around her ribs, probably because her heart is in her throat. Please Matty. I need this, need to feel like I haven’t fucked everything in my life up. I still haven’t figured out exactly how to be around you but I’m trying. Just give me time. I promise, nothing that you have to go to HR about.

She used to be able to read him so well, curses herself once again for the distance between them that makes understanding his expression now impossible. Matty hasn’t taken his eyes off her, squinting his right eye as if looking for something. 

Val’s just about to word vomit something out onto the table when he clears his throat, putting her out of her misery. “Yea, uhm, I mean, yea. Course we can.“

Relief is palpable, she understands that phrase now, her shoulders sinking down from her hairline with his words. Thank god.“Good. Then I won’t feel bad about telling you that I forgot my wallet and I need you to buy me a sticky bun.” 

His laugh, she thought, that’s what she’d missed most of all. 

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi Cas! I hope you don't mind me turning to you for this, I just genuinely need an opinion from someone who doesn't know me personally, and I've seen you give advice to others before. Feel free to ignore this if you don't want to react!

I'm 22F and since I was struggling with one of the courses I take at uni, I got a tutor for it. Let's call him Dan. At first I was very nervous because I didn't know what to expect (a friend recommended him to me). However, the second I met him I was immediately very comfortable around him. He's incredibly kind and considerate. I went over to his place a few times to prepare for an upcoming exam, and I actually enjoyed doing so.

He helped me become more confident in my skills for the subject; he complimented me regularly when I got things right, told me to trust in myself, and that he had faith in me too. At the end of the tutor sessions, he said he enjoyed teaching me.

On the day of the exam, I received a message from him in which he wished me good luck and asked me to keep him updated. I did and also left a review on the forum where he operates on. Once that review came through, he texted me to thank me and wish me a nice remainder of my vacation.

Here's my problem; I think I'd like to get to know him better. I genuinely can't believe I'm writing this (it sounds so cliché), but I developed a crush on him. However, he's quite a bit older than me (29), and I really don't know if he was just being nice or if the things above might be signs he's interested as well. He didn't have to text me on the day of my exam, but he still did. But at the same time, he might do the same thing for other students too.

I have told 4 friends, and they all say I should ask him to get a drink together if I pass the exam. They say the worst thing he can say is no, and that I never have to see him again. I know this is true, but at the same time I'm scared of rejection...

What do you think I should do? Thanks in advance, and sorry for the incredibly long text <3

Hi!

I think your friends are right! Here's the thing- if he was still tutoring you, it might be a bad idea. But you took the exam, so that relationship has ended. Also, you were both adults during the duration of the relationship- it's not like he met you when he was 18 and you were 11. That would be creepy. I think once you hit your twenties, a seven-year age difference isn't a huge deal, as long as both people are at a similar stage in life and want similar things. The worst that can happen is you ask and he says no, or you get to know each other and you find you're incompatible. But the nice thing is, you won't see him again, so though the rejection sucks, you won't have to see him around all the time, you know? I don't know, I think it's worth a shot.