#summer sport poems

[corvidcall]

None Of You Know What Haiku Are

I'm going to preface this by saying that i am not an expert in ANY form of poetry, just an enthusiast. Also, this post is... really long. Too long? Definitely too long. Whoops! I love poetry.

If you ask most English-speaking people (or haiku-bot) what a haiku is, they would probably say that it's a form of poetry that has 3 lines, with 5, and then 7, and then 5 syllables in them. That's certainly what I was taught in school when we did our scant poetry unit, but since... idk elementary school when I learned that, I've learned that that's actually a pretty inaccurate definition of haiku. And I think that inaccurate definition is a big part of why most people (myself included until relatively recently!) think that haiku are kind of... dumb? unimpressive? simple and boring? I mean, if you can just put any words with the right number of syllables into 3 lines, what makes it special?

Well, let me get into why the 5-7-5 understanding of haiku is wrong, and also what makes haiku so special (with examples)!

First of all, Japanese doesn't have syllables! There's a few different names for what phonetic units actually make up the language- In Japanese, they're called "On" (音), which translates to "sound", although English-language linguists often call it a "mora" (μ), which (quoting from Wikipedia here) "is a basic timing unit in the phonology of some spoken languages, equal to or shorter than a syllable." (x) "Oh" is one syllable, and also one mora, whereas "Oi" has one syllable, but two moras. "Ba" has one mora, "Baa" has two moras, etc. In English, we would say that a haiku is made up of three lines, with 5-7-5 syllables in them, 17 syllables total. In Japanese, that would be 17 sounds.

For an example of the difference, the word "haiku", in English, has 2 syllables (hai-ku), but in Japanese, はいく has 3 sounds (ha-i-ku). "Christmas" has 2 syllables, but in Japanese, "クリスマス" (ku-ri-su-ma-su) is 5 sounds! that's a while line on its own! Sometimes the syllables are the same as the sounds ("sushi" is two syllables, and すし is two sounds), but sometimes they're very different.

In addition, words in Japanese are frequently longer than their English equivalents. For example, the word "cuckoo" in Japanese is "ほととぎす" (hototogisu).

Now, I'm sure you're all very impressed at how I can use an English to Japanese dictionary (thank you, my mother is proud), but what does any of this matter? So two languages are different. How does that impact our understanding of haiku?

Well, if you think about the fact that Japanese words are frequently longer than English words, AND that Japanese counts sounds and not syllables, you can see how, "based purely on a 17-syllable counting method, a poet writing in English could easily slip in enough words for two haiku in Japanese” (quote from Grit, Grace, and Gold: Haiku Celebrating the Sports of Summer by Kit Pancoast Nagamura). If you're writing a poem using 17 English syllables, you are writing significantly more content than is in an authentic Japanese haiku.

(Also not all Japanese haiku are 17 sounds at all. It's really more of a guideline.)

Focusing on the 5-7-5 form leads to ignoring other strategies/common conventions of haiku, which personally, I think are more interesting! Two of the big ones are kigo, a season word, and kireji, a cutting word.

Kigo are words/phrases/images associated with a particular season, like snow for winter, or cherry blossoms for spring. In Japan, they actually publish reference books of kigo called saijiki, which is basically like a dictionary or almanac of kigo, describing the meaning, providing a list of related words, and some haiku that use that kigo. Using a a particular kigo both grounds the haiku in a particular time, but also alludes to other haiku that have used the same one.

Kireji is a thing that doesn't easily translate to English, but it's almost like a spoken piece of punctuation, separating the haiku into two parts/images that resonate with and add depth to each other. Some examples of kireji would be "ya", "keri", and "kana." Here's kireji in action in one of the most famous haiku:

古池や　蛙飛び込む　水の音 (Furu ike ya　kawazu tobikomu　mizu no oto) (The old pond — A frog jumps in The sound of the water.)

You can see the kireji at the end of the first line- 古池や literally translates to "old pond ya". The "ya" doesn't have linguistic meaning, but it denotes the separation between the two focuses of the haiku. First, we are picturing a pond. It's old, mature. The water is still. And then there's a frog! It's spring and he's fresh and new to the world! He jumps into the pond and goes "splash"! Wowie! When I say "cutting word", instead of say, a knife cutting, I like to imagine a film cut. The camera shows the pond, and then it cuts to the frog who jumps in.

English doesn't really have a version of this, at least not one that's spoken, but in English language haiku, people will frequently use a dash or an ellipses to fill the same role.

Format aside, there are also some conventions of the actual content, too. They frequently focus on nature, and are generally use direct language without metaphor. They use concrete images without judgement or analysis, inviting the reader to step into their shoes and imagine how they'd feel in the situation. It's not about describing how you feel, so much as it's about describing what made you feel.

Now, let's put it all together, looking at a haiku written Yosa Buson around 1760 (translated by Harold G. Henderson)

The piercing chill I feel: my dead wife's comb, in our bedroom, under my heel

We've got our kigo with "the piercing chill." We read that, and we imagine it's probably winter. It's cold, and the kind of cold wind that cuts through you. There's our kireji- this translation uses a colon to differentiate our two images: the piercing chill, and the poet stepping on his dead wife's comb. There's no descriptions of what the poet is feeling, but you can imagine stepping into his shoes. You can imagine the pain he's experiencing in that moment on your own.

"But tumblr user corvidcall!" I hear you say, "All the examples you've used so far are Japanese haiku that have been translated! Are you implying that it's impossible for a good haiku to be written in English?" NO!!!!! I love English haiku! Here's a good example, which won first place in the 2000 Henderson haiku contest, sponsored by the Haiku Society of America:

meteor shower . . . a gentle wave wets our sandals

When you read this one, can you imagine being in the poet's place? Do you feel the surprise as the tide comes in? Do you feel the summer-ness of the moment? Haiku are about describing things with the senses, and how you take in the world around you. In a way, it's like the poet is only setting a scene, which you inhabit and fill with meaning based on your own experiences. You and I are imagining different beaches, different waves, different people that make up the "our" it mentioned.

"Do I HAVE to include all these things when I write haiku? If I include all these things, does that mean my haiku will be good?" I mean, I don't know. What colors make up a good painting? What scenes make up a good play? It's a creative medium, and nobody can really tell you you can't experiment with form. Certainly not me! But I think it's important to know what the conventions of the form are, so you can appreciate good examples of it, and so you can know what you're actually experimenting with. And I mean... I'm not the poetry cops. But if you're not interested in engaging with the actual conventions and limitations of the form, then why are you even using that form?

I'll leave you with one more English language haiku, which is probably my favorite haiku ever. It was written by Tom Bierovic, and won first place at the 2021 Haiku Society of America Haiku Awards

a year at most . . . we pretend to watch the hummingbirds

Sources: (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

Further reading:

Forms in English Haiku by Keiko Imaoka Haiku: A Whole Lot More Than 5-7-5 by Jack How to Write a Bad Haiku by KrisL Haiku Are Not a Joke: A Plea from a Poet Who Has Had It Up to Here by Sandra Simpson Haiku Checklist by Katherine Raine

[sister-of-hitoshi]

Bnha main three x turned to child reader

Scenarios with just fluff!

Todoroki Shoto

A quite summer morning, soft chilly breeze, Icyhot boy trying to write some Haiku to pass the time, yep everything seemed to be perfect.

Until it wasn't.

He was in the middle of serious thinking when the sound of a notification startled him out of his state. Grunting he unlocked his phone, and opened your chat- only to be met with some unlegible form of Language that you communicated to him through text.

Being kind of dumbfounded, he went back to his work

He was back to his unfinished poem- when he heard noises coming from the room beside him- which so happened to be your room.

Finally having enough of his puzzled state of mind, he knocked on your door to check on you

He was surprised when you didn't open, he still stood there waiting patiently when the door bursted open and you tumbled out of it

Except that it wasn't you- it was a baby that looked like you

A baby? Where's Y/N?? What did you do with her???-

He was completed puzzled and just standing there when you look up at him!- and start crying-

He was immediately brought out of his daze and he quickly went to your aid

He quickly scooped you up in his arms and went inside your room, it was completely messed up.

He saw your unlocked phone and the text that you had sent him, he figured it was the baby's doing. Speaking about the baby-

Is she going to cry again?!

"Oh no, where is Y/N?- I should get Y/N"-

Of course you responded when you heard your name, you stared up at him and nodded vigorously

It took a bit of time with him and you exchanging nods as a form of conversation but he figured it out- that this baby here was his beloved, his future wife, his Y/N

When he mentioned your name again, sporting a cute smile after figuring out your identity- you grabbed his face and gave him a smooch on his nose

This little gesture made his heart flutter, you were still his adorable darling, even as a baby

He forgot all about his Haiku and completely devoted himself in taking care of you

Toys? He got them with a snap of his finger. Food? The first time he heard your stomach rumble was enough to stack a pile of baby food and snacks for a whole month.

He plays on the safe side

Responsible as he is, he informed his class teacher and Recovery girl, who later informed them that it would take atleast three days for you to turn back to normal.

You had turned back to your original self at some point when you two were innocently cuddling on his bed at night.

Perfect boyfriend now = perfect father in the future

Ps: You still remember his blushy face in the morning when he accidentally fell out of bed in embarrassment because that was your first ever proper cuddle session.

For Midoriya Izuku: Here

For Katsuki Bakugo: Here

[moonjxsung]

Not Allowed

TV GIRL / NOT ALLOWED

⇢ Pairing: Lee Felix x fem reader

⇢ Summary: You and Felix are childhood friends turned fwb, with no strings attached. Felix leaves to pursue his idol dreams, and you begin your life as a college student. When he comes back to visit your town, he’s drawn to you again- but you’re both leading very different lives.

⇢ Warning: smut lol

⇢ W/c: 15k?

⇢ A/n: inspired by the TV Girl song “not allowed” <3 this has a lot of smut bc the whole song is abt sex so if ur uncomfortable with that, please don’t interact! 

// MINORS DNI // DO NOT STEAL OR REPOST MY WORK

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are 18+. the actions and story represented in this work do not represent Stray Kids in any way; everything described is purely a work of fiction!

“What’s on your nasty old mind?”

Your childhood was by no means perfect. In fact, things seldom worked out in your favor. Born an only child in a middle-class working household, your parents were absent for long periods of time. Mom worked late nights at the hospital in the week, and dad was always away on business trips or out at company meetings. How many of these were actually late-night corporate gatherings and not just another woman he’d sneak off to see, you had no clue. 

School was difficult, although you excelled in your courses, the stress ate away at you and withered you down like a dying flower. Decaying petal by petal, thorn by thorn, you’d find yourself questioning what the purpose of all this was if just to slave away at a desk and make money.

It seemed most everything was at the cost of your time, money, and sanity- except your friendship with Felix. 

Lee Felix- even the name brought back distinct memories. Lazy, carefree afternoons when the two of you would spend hours upon hours scattering the sidewalks with chalk drawings of sea animals and hopscotch squares. Racing each other to the ice cream man’s cart when you’d hear the jingle from a block away. Laughing between singsong acrostic poems over colorful popsicles, the heat melting sticky sweetness onto your fingers, where you’d run them over your tinted red sunburns for some relief. 

Most nights you’d spend at Felix’s house, tucked away in makeshift blanket forts in his bedroom- doing your best to keep hushed while you’d devise plans for tomorrow’s equally carefree July summer day.

Sometimes his sisters would join the two of you, learning all about your games as you’d walk them through the rules and dedicate one of them to the role of referee (per Felix’s sore loser request). But as you grew older, they made their own plans and friends, leaving the two of you to grow up alongside each other. 

Days turned to months, which quickly turned to years that the two of you had been best friends. You observed as Felix grew taller and leaner, his short brown hair framing the introduction of freckles scattered all over his face- cheeks, eyes, and button nose. He couldn’t help but comment when you painted your nails for the first time, remarking he’d forgotten you were a girl sometimes. 

Before you knew it, you and Felix made it to high school, where you each formed your own friend groups. You, a solid group of girls who shared your newfound interest in horror movies and girls nights. And Felix, a group of guys from the soccer team, the sport which he spent most of his teenage years wrapped up in. 

Although you had your own lives, you and Felix remained close. You greeted him with a gentle wave every time you passed each other in the hallways, even if you were with your own groups of friends. Felix admired your newfound love for fashion, often complimenting your outfits when you had a second alone. His favorites usually involved anything olive green- which he made known was the best color on your naturally tanned skin tone. He gave his approval when you got highlights for the first time, experimented with different piercings, and even showed more skin than usual as the spring transitioned to summer. 

You didn’t go unnoticed by the others in your grade- in fact, you became a particularly hot topic when you got your first boyfriend. He was a nerdy little member of the water polo team, with whom you’d spend your days after practice in his car listening to music and sharing stories of his day. It was also then that you shared your first kiss- a short, sloppy encounter in the front of his mom’s green minivan. Nothing that stuck with you in the long run, for the two of you broke up just two weeks later, citing “conflicting schedules”. He was with a new girl a week after that.

Felix was also a popular topic on campus. Girls visited his away soccer games just to watch him play, squealing when he’d score a goal and give them a little wave from down on the field. He had a girlfriend almost every year of his high school career- ranging from the most popular girl in school, to one a year older than him, and even rumors of some from rival schools (none of which were very serious). You often passed him locking lips with a girl when you passed his locker, looking awkward and a bit too happy to be there. It was those times that he had failed to acknowledge you, which you never cared about, considering you indulged in crushes on most of his friends anyway. 

But he still kept you in his thoughts, making small talk when he passed you alone, and even bringing brownies from his mom when she baked a little too much (the famous recipe passed to Felix shortly after). You assured him that things were well, your parents still just as busy, your cat doing just fine, your college applications taking too much time these days. 

He was just as giddy as his younger self, beaming when you shared good news and sending you off with a hug when his girlfriend or soccer buddies would drag him away. You weren’t sure any of them liked you, but they acknowledged you with a small thin-lipped smile every time they came around, which was enough for you. 

Your final year of high school was a turning point for the two of you. You had made it into your first choice of university, a mere two hours from your household, with grades that reflected your hard work. Felix, on the other hand, chose a different career path. 

When he knocked on your door one night, the last person you’d guessed it would be was Felix. You opened the door for him, wrapping your arms around your oversized hoodie that swallowed your frame. 

“Hey!” he said enthusiastically. 

“Felix!” you exclaimed quietly. Nobody was home at this hour, but the way the streetlights lit the dim world beyond your door, it felt odd to talk any louder than this. 

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked politely, to which you furrowed your brows. 

“Yeah, sure... I mean, is it bad? You’re kinda scaring me.”

He chuckled lightly. “It’s nothing bad. I just wanted to give you the news first.”

You squint your eyes, unsure if you should invite him in. It felt odd considering he hadn’t been over in a while, but you didn’t want to make things weird. 

“Yeah- do you want to come inside? Should I sit down for this?”

He chuckled again. “I won’t be long.” 

You stepped aside as he passed through the door, standing with his hands in his pockets as you shut it behind you. 

You led him to the living room, where he sat on the edge of the couch and smiled up at you. You took a seat next to him, facing your body toward him and smiling back. 

“Okay…” you said timidly. 

“Okay,” he began. “You remember when we were little, and I took those dance classes?”

You furrowed your brows at that. “Yeah, the hip hop ones? When you had that little performance?”

“Exactly,” he said. 

“Yeah, I remember. We were so little!”

“We were!” he replied. “Anyway, so I did this tryout at an audition a little while back. It wasn’t really something I told anyone about, you know, in case they rejected me.”

You nodded, waiting for him to continue. 

“And… well… they want me to keep at it.”

You cocked your head slightly, trying to make sense of his vague tone. 

“You mean… you passed the audition?”

A small smile began to form on his lips. 

“Kind of? They want me to keep practicing as a… trainee? And then if I get picked, I could possibly get… signed?” he finished with a questioning tone.

The smile on your face grew as he finished his sentence. 

“They want to sign you?!” you exclaimed, a warm feeling overtaking your chest. 

He laughed. “Not yet, not until I go there and try out officially. But there could be a chance, I guess?”

You jumped up, waving your hands with frantic excitement. “Oh my god, Felix! That’s amazing! You have to do it! When are you- I mean, where are the tryouts? I want to watch as much as I can! How’s that gonna work out with school?”

He sighed. “That was my next point.”

You paused, watching his expression grow worrisome. 

“It’s… in Korea.” 

Felix expected you to cry, to choke up or even to bawl your eyes out. But you didn’t- instead, you gasped with an even bigger smile and gave one solid nod. 

“Go,” you said firmly. “You can’t pass this chance up. There’s always university, and the people here, and life. You may never have this again. Go, and I’ll be rooting for you.”

His smile returned, his eyes narrowing into little crescent moons as he beamed across from you. 

“You think so?” he asked. 

“Oh I know so,” you reply. “Besides, if you get all famous, maybe this stupid town will be known for something other than being a shithole. They’ll say ‘you know that Felix kid’? He’s from there!”

Felix laughed, throwing his head back a little. When the two of you stopped laughing, he looked back at you, appreciation in his expression. 

“You’ve always been here for me. I won’t forget that. Not ever.”

You shook your head, waving a hand. 

“I’m just being a friend, Felix. That’s what we’ve always been to each other.”

He nodded. “Speaking of my best friend, where are you headed after graduation?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, cocking your head in the direction of the acceptance letter on the coffee table. “I don’t think there was ever a version of this universe where I’d be okay with not going.”

Felix’s jaw hung open, head shaking in disbelief. “Well I think this version of the universe knows how lucky they’d be to have you,” he said, extending his arms out for a hug, which you gladly accepted. 

Felix held you against his chest for a minute, rubbing small circles into your back as he remarked how proud he was of you. You parroted the statement, telling him you knew he was going to make it big.

When he pulled away, his eyes darted to your lips for a brief second, and then back up to your eyes. “I can’t tell if that’s the same lip gloss you wore when we were younger.”

You chuckled. “Why would I keep the same tube of lip gloss from a decade ago?”

He smiled, a little embarrassed at his own remark. “I don’t know! You always wore that one. Strawberries? Or something like that.”

“Raspberries,” you said with a smile, and he held his gaze on yours for a second. 

“Raspberry,” he echoed. “She wore raspberry.”

And in the midst of lingering seconds, he gently leaned into you, a strand of black hair falling over one eye. 

“y/n… Can I… Would it be weird if I kissed you?”

You were startled for a second, as the action hadn’t crossed your mind in the time you’d known him.

“I mean, nevermind… sorry, that was weird. I’m just excited and I guess I felt like that would… lock in the moment? God, I’m sorry, that sounds so dumb-”

You chuckled at his nervousness. “Felix, if you wanted to lock in the moment, I’m pretty sure that little tangent did it enough.”

He chuckled too, a little disappointed you didn’t agree.

“Right, that’s probably true. I don’t even know why I asked that. We’re just friends after all, and it’s not like I came here to do that. I literally just got out of my relationship and I promise I’m not hitting on you-”

“Felix,” you interrupted. “I’m happy too. Come here,” you said gently, pulling his face to yours.

He smiled before pressing a tender kiss to your glossed lips, smiling into it and instinctively reaching a hand up to cup your cheek. 

When he pulled away, you laughed and wiped the sweet residue from the corners of his mouth. 

It didn’t feel any different between you two, only your happiness for him was elevated by the emotions running through you following the encounter.

“I’m so, so proud of you,” you told him again. “And I know you’re going to do great things.”

“I’m proud of you,” he echoed. “I don’t leave for a few months, if you want to do something? I mean as friends, obviously…”

You rolled your eyes jokingly. “A celebratory kiss doesn’t change anything between us. Duh, we can do something as friends.”

He laughed lightly. “Cool. I should get going, but we’ll catch up later?”

You nodded, gesturing to the door. “You know the way.”

And with that, he slipped back out into the night, his own house only a few blocks away. 

*

Graduation came and went, and the two of you seemed to have reconnected again in ways you hadn’t during the entirety of high school. Felix would stop by in the early mornings, sometimes with little desserts he’d baked, and you’d enjoy them in the warm summer heat that enveloped your front porch.

For the first time ever, the two of you connected as blossoming adults. He told you tales of his past lovers- girls you now learned he would usually meet at soccer games away from your campus. He said he only ever really cared for one of them, whom he later broke up with to pursue somebody else he had his eye on. Defeating the purpose of him stating he ever cared for her, in typical Felix fashion.

He recalled the time he got caught cheating on his final math exam in sophomore year, which the teacher excused for how “tired he looked” (his words), and let him off with a gentle warning. He shared that he stayed up late practicing his dance and recording little songs on GarageBand, files which he’d save under recipe names on his computer, in case somebody accidentally came across one. Chocolate Cheesecake was his most recent, one which he’d gone so far as to upload a little thumbnail of the dessert for anonymity. 

You soaked in his tales like you did the sunshine, laughing at his ability to turn the most outlandish scenarios into an adventure. You envied the way he had this long list of stories to pass down before he was even in university. But you shared your own stories back to him, albeit not the most exciting ones. You failed your driver’s test 3 times before finally passing, to which your instructor tentatively warned you to avoid busy streets for a few months.You almost set your house ablaze one night when you slept with a candle lit on your window sill. Nobody was hurt, but your mom scolded you for what felt like a lifetime. Your parents were going through a difficult patch right now, one you could see the possibility of ending in divorce. At this, Felix’s expression turned serious, swallowing at your words and nodding empathetically. 

After exchanging a series of comforting words, he smiled over at you, chuckling at the way you licked your fingers clean of his famous fudge brownies. 

“Is there a lucky guy?” he asked suddenly, wiggling his eyebrows in a curious manner. 

“What?” you replied, trying your best to recall if you’d ever passed his house in the presence of another guy. Nothing came to mind- you hadn’t even pursued another boyfriend since your little water polo romance. 

He chuckled. “Come on, there has to be somebody. I just told you all about the relationship I got out of. Think that’s reason enough to distract me with your version.”

You shook your head, smiling. “Absolutely no one. I don’t think I can do another car seat romance right now.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “A car seat? That’s risque! You weren’t afraid of getting caught?”

You shook your head. “What’s the harm in getting caught kissing? That’s hardly a big deal!”

He furrowed his brows. “Oh sorry, I thought… something else.”

You paused for a brief moment, understanding his implications. “Felix… are you… inquiring about my sex life right now?”

His freckles almost disappeared as his face turned a bright shade of red. He was afraid if you sat any closer, you might feel the heat radiating from the tips of his ears. 

“No! I wasn’t- I just thought,” he stammered. 

You laughed in response. “You could’ve just asked if I was a virgin, you know. That’s not weird.”

His blush grew brighter, if even possible. “Oh god. I didn’t come here to try and get details out of you, I promise. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You shook your head. “You’re one of my best friends. I would likely tell you if I killed someone, you know.”

He laughed, the flush of his cheeks dying out a little. “Right.” 

After a brief pause, you tilted your head in his direction. “Never.”

He raised his eyebrows a little, trying not to offend you with his reaction. “Never?”

You shook your head no. “Never! It just never happened. Of course if the right guy came along, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. But I’m not going to have sex with just anyone. It’s not that important to me.”

He nodded, taking in your words. There’s a kind of admiration he had for your thought process. And then he began to speak. 

“Me neither.”

You almost jumped up in the swinging bench bench from beside him. “What? No way, I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that to make me feel better!”

He shrugged. “I don’t think I was with anybody long enough to get to that point. Plus, it’s not like I was ever away from my parents or teammates to get up to that kind of stuff.”

You made sense of his words, a silence falling over the two of you. 

“I mean…” he continued. “One of the girls at our second away game of senior year kind of… touched me? In the locker rooms?”

You stifled laughter. “I don’t need to hear the gory details of your almost handjob, Felix.”

He laughed back. “It was over my gym shorts!” 

“Okay, okay! I get the gist!” you retorted, laughing into your hands. 

The two of you fell silent again, the buzz of the cicadas bringing you back to reality for a moment. 

“I should get going,” you tell him. “But thank you for the brownies. You really don’t have to keep bringing them. I’m going out with the girls later so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“We could,” he said suddenly. 

“What?” you replied, unsure of where his statement fit into your farewell.

“We could. Have… sex?” he clarified. You began to laugh, until you noticed his facial expression had turned serious.

“Felix? What are you proposing right now?”

He shrugged. “I’m not dating anyone. You’re not dating anyone. Neither of us have crossed it off our lists. It’s not like it has to be some big, emotional thing, y’know?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, and then quickly transitioned into a frown. “Are you just trying to get in my pants?”

His face panicked. “No, god no. I’m sorry. I just thought maybe you’d want to. I mean you’re going to college and there will probably be a ton of opportunities for it there. I’ll be living with like 20 guys for a while… I dunno, I just thought… It's stupid. I’m sorry.”

You thought over his words for a while. The thought of it didn’t turn you on- having sex with your childhood best friend. In fact, it was a little gross. But he was right- you hadn’t really checked it off your young adult list. And you wouldn’t see him for months, so any awkward emotions that arose would have months to pass by and dissipate. 

“I’m gonna get going,” he said. “I’m sorry, I feel like I ruined things.”

“Okay,” you said. “Let’s do it.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“You’re going to propose it and then act like I’m crazy for agreeing?” you replied.

“No, no! I mean- yeah. But only if you want to. Nothing emotional, if you don’t like it we can stop there. But we’ll have the story to tell when we’re both gone.”

“You make it sound like we’re dying, Felix.”

He chuckled. 

“Let’s go inside. I’m not having my first time on a bench outdoors,” you finished.

He nodded, swallowing a big gulp of air. “Okay. I- do you want to take my hand? Or-”

You shook your head, chuckling at how awkward he managed to be sometimes. “Just go inside, I’ll meet you in my bedroom.”

*

Your bedroom was messier than you remembered. There were boxes scattered from packing for university. You realized Felix hadn’t seen it in a long time. 

Posters of local bands scattered the walls, your mirrors plastered with collections of stickers. Your bed wasn’t made, the sheets sprawled over the edge and tangled from your morning slumber. 

You were the first to lay down, gesturing for Felix to come over from his awkward stance in the doorway. He obliged, crawling on top of you and hoisting his weight up by a single elbow. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked nervously. 

You smiled up at him, noting the way his freckles were yet again concealed by the blush across his cheeks. 

“Yeah, you can kiss me.” 

Felix smiled down at you, leaning in and pressing a gentle, yet firm kiss to your lips. His ebony hair tickled your cheek, which you reached up to move out of his face. 

It was romantic and slow, and his hands traveled to the small of your waist, pulling you closer to his lanky frame. 

He kissed you for a good while, and you could tell that although he hadn’t slept with anyone, he’d certainly had his share of kissing girls. His lips were plump and soft, and his eyelashes fluttered with pleasure every time you sighed against his mouth. 

You’d almost forgotten the agreement by the time he slid a hand under your shirt. “Is this okay?” he asked, his voice a little out of breath. 

You nodded quickly in response, helping guide his hand to the curve of your breasts. Felix’s breath hitched in his throat as he examined your curves with the pads of his fingers. He awkwardly ran his index finger over your nipple, sighing in response when you let out a little gasp. His fingers were smooth, and oddly cold. 

“So soft,” he said in a voice just above a whisper. 

With growing eagerness in your core, you pulled back and slid your shirt over your head, glancing over at Felix who couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off your chest. You chuckled softly at his expression, mouth agape and stars in his eyes at the sight in front of him. He sure knew how to give you an ego boost. 

“Your turn,” you said, snapping him back to reality. 

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling the back of his white shirt over his head and tossing it aside, getting lost in the pile of your clothes already on the floor.

You observed his body too, taking in every new freckle you hadn’t seen before. They were scattered along his clavicles, painting his chest with little beige constellations and stopping just before his toned pecs. Where there was an absence of freckles, his muscles accentuated generously, jutting out as if begging to be explored. 

You nodded, as if to say nice body, and a knowing smile grew on his pink lips. “Come here,” he said, pulling you close again and pressing chaste kisses to your neck and collarbones.

You really liked neck kisses, you learned, as he took his time brushing a tongue over patches of skin before peppering them with kisses and nibbling with feeble hunger.

Your hands reached up to tangle themselves in his silky hair, which he moaned gently in between kisses in response to. With your hands busy, he took the opportunity to slide a hand down, down- all the way down to your jeans. 

Pulling away from your neck, he didn’t hesitate to snap open the button of your jeans and free your pelvis of the zipper. He didn’t even ask for permission, knowing by your reaction that the answer was yes, absolutely yes, please don’t stop. 

Your hands left his hair to help slide your jeans off, and he towered over you to mirror the action. In between innocent giggles, he gathered both articles of clothing in his nimble hands, before making a dramatic show of tossing those on the floor, too.

You were down to just your underwear, a feeling which made you nervous as you became aware of how exposed you were. But Felix didn’t leave a single spot untouched, showering your skin with kisses as your hands found their way to his hair again. 

“Can I try something?” Felix asked, pulling away to gauge your reaction through his fluttering lashes. You nodded, observing as he positioned himself between your legs, and reached a single hand to your underwear. 

It was your turn for your breath to hitch, growing goosebumps as he placed a single finger to your still-clothed wetness. You gasped in response, the feeling not far from when you’d squeeze your thighs together to sex scenes from your favorite movies. 

“I don’t really know how to do this,” he admitted to you shyly. “Tell me if it hurts, yeah?”

You brought your arms around his neck, smiling up at him and glancing down at his hands. 

“Just circle my clit. With your finger. Like- yeah. Just like that,” you were interrupted by his successful attempt at following your instructions. 

He smiled at your reaction, adding a finger and rubbing slow, thoughtful circles around your clit. You gasped at the heat growing in your core, happily accepting when he leaned down to kiss you as he continued. You stayed like that for several minutes, sweat pooling between your thighs as beams of sunlight glared through the window behind you. 

Slowly, he hooked both fingers in your underwear, moving them aside to expose you, and placed fingers on your now fully exposed wetness. You gasped louder in response, humming with pleasure and gripping his toned bicep. 

“Wait,” you said. “Let me just take them off.”

“Okay,” he replied in a gentle tone, pulling away a bit to let you slide your underwear off and over the bed. 

Once bare, his fingers found their way back to your clit, now working little hearts into your skin. “Hearts?” you asked through a smile, kissing him harder and noting the lewd sounds of tongues and sweat and wetness that now filled the room. 

He hummed in response, bucking his hips against your thigh, and you suddenly realized how hard he was for you. His bulge tented nicely in his gray boxers, the tip of his cock already flat against a generous spot of precum. 

“Sorry,” he said, scared the accidental motion would make it look like he was moving too fast. 

You grinned, shaking your head and propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “Take them off,” you requested plainly. 

He gulped and nodded, admittedly scared of baring himself in front of you. You were already fully naked, and he’d forgotten the fact that he still had one article of clothing left to lose. 

“You okay?” you asked, growing concerned at his silence. He nodded, responding by pulling his boxers down over his cock, which grew slowly against his abdomen.

He was just as you expected, veins bulging at his hardness, following the shape of his curvature to the wetted pink head.

“You’re so pretty,” you said, eyes fixated on his cock. He was flushed a rosy shade of pink as you stared, aching to explore every inch of him. Felix greeted your compliment with a toothy smile.

With a newfound confidence, he leaned back down to kiss you, his bulge sitting patiently at the entrance of your sex.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked, and he responded with a nod.

“I never got rid of this after health class,” Felix said, as he fished a silver packet out of the pocket of his jeans which hung off the bed. 

“You’re such a nerd,” you replied, and he laughed lightly as he tore open the packet with his teeth.

You helped him slide the rubber down his length, careful not to pinch any part of his sensitive skin. His breathing was heavy, and you could tell he didn't have much time before he gave in. 

“Ready?” Felix asked, as he positioned himself in front of you again. 

“Ready,” you replied, and you both kept your eyes locked down below as he gripped his shaft and slid just the tip in. 

“Oh god,” you remarked, surprised at the sensation even though he was barely in. “Does it hurt?” he panicked, and you shook your head. “Just a little. Do more, if you can.”

At this Felix, pulled out slightly, and then bucked his hips forward so that he was just barely halfway in. 

“Fuck-” you heard, and you looked up to his eyelids shut tight and nose scrunched. His hair hung lazily around his face, sweat pooled at the ebony roots. 

“Are you-” you began to ask if he was okay, when he slid out and let out a deep sigh.

“I finished,” he replied. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would feel that good.”

You smiled in response, relaxing your hands by your side and sitting up. 

“Don’t apologize, Felix. It’s just your body.”

You took note of the tears welling in his eyes, and your expression shifted to that of concern. “Felix?”

He wiped with the back of his hand, sitting back on your bed like a scolded child. “I didn’t mean to finish so fast. I wanted it to last. I didn’t come here for sex, I promise. I just thought it would be a good idea and now it’s over and I did so badly.”

He hiccuped through tears, and you sat up to wipe them from his eyes. “You didn’t do badly, Felix. You did amazing. That was an amazing first time. Don’t apologize for a natural reaction. We’re not pros at this.”

He nodded slowly, sniffling and looking around for his shirt. “Well I guess I’ll go,” he said rather dryly. 

You knew he was going to beat himself up for this, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“Felix, don’t go,” you said. “I’m not letting you leave like this.”

“I already ruined things,” he responded. 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” you said. “Plus, we always have next time?”

You surprised yourself with your own remark, blushing as he locked his eyes on yours again.

“Next time?” he questioned, his voice still frail and quiet.

You nodded. “I mean… if you want to? As friends, of course. I liked it,” you shrugged. 

The last of his tears trickled down his cheeks as a small smile grew back on his face, illuminating the room with comfort once again. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d like to do it again.”

You nodded, mirroring his smile. “Then we can do it again. It’s not a big deal, right?” 

He shook his head, wiping tears with the back of his hand. “Just… practice I guess? That’s all it is.”

You nodded. “Just practice. Exactly.”

With bleary eyes, Felix rid himself of the condom and clothed himself again, pulling his shirt over his head and buttoning his jeans back how they were. You laid on your side, still nude in your bed, one hand tucked under your cheek, still entranced by the way the sun kissed Felix’s freckles in the June air. You hummed softly as the birds chirped outside, the sounds starkly contrasting the filthy moans emitting from your room just moments earlier. 

“I’ll see you later?” he said, turning to you, his eyes flickering curiously to your chest and and between your thighs again. You tugged the sheets up to your chin, keeping your gaze on him for a minute.

“Busy later, remember?”

He nodded once. “Right. Are your parents home tonight? Or… what are you doing tomorrow?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his helpless words. “Gosh Felix, you’re needy already. I’ll call you okay? I’m not gonna leave you hanging.”

He smiled in response, cocking his head to one side and taking one last look at you. 

He’d never seen you like this, more skin showing than ever before. The way your mascara pooled around your eyes from shutting your eyes in pleasure. The way the last of the sun rays set little orange patches aglow on your olive skin, highlighting your clavicles like an oil painting. The way your smile said so much yet so little at the same time, as if to tell him you’ll be right here the next time. And the next, and the next- and hopefully several times after that. 

He wanted nothing more than to touch himself and stay in for round two, but he was dying to go home and shower the lingering embarrassment off his body. With nothing else to say, he raised two fingers and gave a little salute, trying to send you off in the most casual manner he could, fearing you might change your mind about there being a next time. 

“Catch ya later,” he said a bit awkwardly, and turned on his heel to stride out of your bedroom. 

You said nothing in response, shutting your eyes and letting the evening drowsiness overtake you. 

*

“You should hear when you’re not around, when it’s just us horny poets”

It didn’t take long before you and Felix were fucking like rabbits for the remainder of summer. 

Handjobs on your porch when it was too early in the morning to be caught. Blowjobs in the backseat of his car, Felix strategically parking on little off roads where no one could interrupt, while his hands pulled mercilessly at your hair. Kisses all over your neck during movie nights, where you’d fold almost immediately and wind up under him for the remainder of- what was that film again? You’re not sure. You were sure of his nimble fingers, and the way his lips could work up just about anything out of you. 

You’re sure he’d been studying pornography, the way his lips pressed little butterfly kisses all over your aching pussy, coming up to suckle your clit and spread your juices all over your thighs with more hungry kisses and nibbles. 

Felix even felt comfortable enough to present you some of the videos he got off to, shyly angling his phone at you mid-makeout session, inquiring about your interest in sucking off his fingers. You challenged him, making him suck your fingers instead, while you edged him over his sweatpants. Note: he really liked that move. 

The two of you were different tunes working in perfect harmony, your erotic ideas playing off of each other, resulting in some of your most intense memories together.

Not every idea worked out as you’d planned, but the time was never wasted. Nights where you couldn’t finish from penetration alone, he’d spend hours working you up with an old massager, his deep voice whispering sweet nothings into your ear while he fondled your breasts.

His words were so carefully picked, diligently selected from your favorite erotic fiction works you’d send him. “You like that? Is your pussy aching for me? Always so wet when I touch you. Could do this for hours…could hear you moan for hours.”

His breath tickled your neck, the sound of his own labored breathing growing louder and then quieter again as he’d brush his lips over your ear and fill your mind with little moans and filthy thoughts. 

And the nights would always end safely. He’d bring his signature baked goods, massaging you in his lap as he fed you little bites of brownies and cookies and pies. 

His words never stopped at sex, showering you with compliments and sweet nothings even if not to arouse you. “You did so well today. Thanks for letting me try that. I’m sorry if it hurts. Let’s try something more gentle tomorrow, yeah?”

And the weeks you couldn’t have sex, Felix never seemed to mind all too much. Sometimes he’d let you watch him pleasure himself, sometimes he’d brush off the idea all together. The stories you shared, and the laughs you got out of each other, were reason enough to spend just about every passing second together.

2:15am. 

Felix pulled out, rolling over on his back again, letting out an exasperated sigh and shutting his eyes. 

“Fuck. That was good. Are you okay?”

He forced an eyelid open, glancing over at your still lying body, too tired to speak but nodding through labored breaths. 

“Yeah,” you managed a minute later.

The two of you remained like that for a few minutes, basking in the silence of the atmosphere around you. The world was quiet without the loud moans and cuss words that erupted when you were normally together.

And then came the sniffles. 

When you began fucking, you quickly understood that you were learning things about Felix that maybe nobody knew before you. Not even Felix himself. Like how he scrunched his nose right before he finished, his open mouth following shortly after. The way he apologized after he let out an accidental slut or whore in the bedroom. They helped him get off on occasion, but he detested the thought of you internalizing the words. Or maybe the way his hands cramped quickly when he fingered you- he wasn’t used to using his hands as much as his legs or upper body. Soccer player problems. 

But the most interesting thing you’d come to discover about Felix was his tendency to cry after sex. 

Mornings, afternoons in his car, quickies in your room, it didn’t matter. 90 percent of the time, he’d cry after finishing, his whole face contorting into that of a guilty boy’s, eyes reddening as they welled with tears and found their home on the sleeves of his sweaters or corners of your sheets. 

The second time it happened, you grew concerned for him, thinking it was something you’d done. You tried to break things off, saying “maybe this isn’t a good idea” and “I don’t want to do this if you’re not emotionally ready for it.”

But that only made him cry harder. Wrapping you in his arms and letting out gentle sobs in your knees. Begging you not to go, that he’d work on himself instead. 

It never stopped, and although Felix tried to vocalize it, you always felt sorry for him.

“Sorry,” he’d explain through sobs. “Just felt so good.”

You never invalidated his feelings, always simply nodding at his words and holding him for as long as he needed to be held. 

The truth is, Felix felt emotions so deeply, deeper than even he himself was capable of handling. The orgasms were an emotional high for him every time, pure bliss exiting his body and filling yours, you returning the favor with your praises for him.

When he came down from his high, it snapped him back to reality to remember that this was all temporary. That he’d be gone soon, that you’d be fucking somebody else in this bed within the next few weeks. That he didn’t buy you flowers, nor did he properly introduce himself to your parents, although you weren’t dating. That you’d be so generous to try just about anything with him, going at it for hours to determine what the two of you liked and didn’t like. That you sacrificed your body for his pleasure on nights you weren’t as horny as he was, and that you never made a fuss when he made a mess of you and your sheets. 

That you held him after sex every time, massaging his hair with a gentle caress, telling him about how “amazing he did”  and that he was “so, so good to you.”

And through tear-stained eyes, he’d do the same for you, thanking you until sleep overtook you both. 

Tonight was no different. 

“Hey, hey,” you said to him soothingly. “Come here.”

He sat up, face in his hands for a moment as he let out quiet sobs and shook his head. “It’s no use. I can’t st-stop c-crying…” choked sobs trailed his voice away from you. 

“Felix, you did so well. You always do. Are you overwhelmed? Talk to me,” you said, sitting up to embrace him.

He turned to hug you back, tears falling on your bare shoulder as you shushed him and pressed little kisses to his forehead.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You’d heard it a million times from him, but he always felt the need to justify himself to you. 

“Don’t apologize,” you told him. “Don’t apologize for your body. Do you want to grab something to eat? I know it’s late, but McDonald’s is still open.”

He wiped his tears away for the second time today, nodding as you reached over and handed him his sweatshirt. 

When his tears came to a halt, he smiled at you and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your temple. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “I know it’s the least sexy thing you can do after an orgasm.”

You smiled back at him, standing up to gather your clothes from where they’d fallen. “Hey, I don’t care if you want to do your taxes after sex. I had fun, you had fun. That’s all that matters.”

Felix always admired your ability to downplay everything. No reaction of his was too much when he was around you. He felt normal, comfortable. Safe. 

“Just gonna grab a new pair of underwear,” you said to him. “I’ll meet you back at the car.”

Felix nodded, scrambling out of the tangled sheets of your bed and grabbing his car keys. 

As he exited your room, you took careful note of your disheveled appearance in the mirror. Bruises, messy hair, puffy lips. Tear-stained shoulders. 

*

“Okay,” you began. “If you had to pick what you’d want your dorm mates to be like, what would  you say?”

You popped a french fry in your mouth, watching as Felix thought over the question. 

“I’d say…” his Australian accent was thick as he pondered for a moment. “I dunno, maybe outgoing? I guess I’m not the most extroverted so I need some balance.”

You laughed. “Be careful what you wish for. Sometimes outgoing can be a veiled statement for annoying.”

He scrunched his nose at you. “Oh god. More annoying than me? I don’t even know if that’s possible.”

You slapped his arm playfully. “You’re right, I think you already beat them in that department.”

He remarked a sarcastic haha at you, taking a sip of his McFlurry before crossing his legs onto his seat.

“What about you- what do you hope the people at university are like?”

You swallowed, giving a small shrug. “I hope they make me feel comfortable.”

His eyes remained on you for a second, and you continued your response. “I just want to experience everything. I want to go bar-crawling with my friends at 2am. I want to go to parties, and study at the library for finals with a group of people who make it all worth it. I just want that typical experience.”

He nodded, his throat suddenly feeling dry. 

He was reminded again that he wasn’t going to be a part of your university experience. You were going to meet new people, make new friends. Fuck new guys. And he wouldn’t be around to be part of any of it. 

“You know,” Felix began. “I’m rooting for you. Even though I won’t be here to see how it all plays out.”

You pulled your lips into a thin smile, nodding. “I know you are. I don’t doubt that.”

“And,” you continued. “I’m rooting for you. I’ll be tuned in to all the programs they put you on. I’ll shoot you little messages about your silly stage outfits here and there. The whole kpop fan image? That’s going to be me, like, times a million. Maybe I’ll drag around your album everywhere I go.”

He laughed at the idea, tossing his head back. “Hey, don’t speak too soon. If things fall through I’ll be back in less than a month. I don’t even speak Korean. Got a lot of learning to do.”

You waved him off. “You’ll catch on. I know you will.”

He held your gaze for a moment, smiling again before leaning in to kiss you. His lips tasted like oreos, and yours lingered of salty fries.

“2 weeks,” he said when he pulled away. “I can’t believe how fast this summer went by.”

You agreed with a slight tilt of your head.

He glanced out the window briefly. The cicadas had gotten quieter now that August drew to a close. You were at the usual spot you hooked up at, parked in his car across a vista point just off the highway. The view overlooked a canyon of trees, which looked like something out of a horror movie at this hour of the night.

He looked back at you and nodded in the direction of the backseat, a gesture you knew very well. You climbed over the center console, already pulling off your sweatpants and adjusting yourself so your legs were propped open. 

Felix followed after you, slipping off his jeans and pulling you onto his lap. 

Hasty kisses met your lips and neck as he gripped your waist and massaged little circles into the dimples that met your lower back. He let little moans meet your mouth as you palmed his already-hard cock through his boxers, rocking back and forth on his thigh to stimulate yourself first. 

One hand reached up and snaked two fingers into your mouth. “Suck,” he instructed.

You wrapped desperate fingers around his wrist, pressing little kisses to the pads of his fingers before slipping them in and out of your drooly mouth. He didn’t break eye contact as you hollowed your cheeks and stared at him through long lashes, moving slowly and savoring the taste of his soft skin. 

“Good,” he said, and you released him with a gentle pop, a string of saliva connecting him to you still.

He licked a stripe along his fingers too, sharing the flavor of your needy spit, before reaching down and moving your underwear aside. 

You gasped as a finger pressed hastily to your clit, rubbing little hearts as he usually did, which he knew drove you wild. He rubbed back and forth, grazing down your slit and back up again, before finding his way to your entrance.

Felix gently inserted a first, and then a second finger, inside your soaking cunt, using his thumb to graze your clit and make you emit breathy moans from the sensation. 

“Fuck,” you breathed, watching him tilt his head to one side. 

“That feel good? Hmm?” He cooed with a smile, already knowing the answer by your pleasured response.

You nodded, eyebrows arched up in pleasure as he moved faster. Felix nodded with you as you gripped his wrist, digging nail marks into his veiny forearm. 

“Felix, would you fuck me?” you asked him politely, your breathing speeding up. 

“Hmm? I am fucking you, sweetheart.” The pet names, god, the pet names. He knew exactly what they did to you. 

“Want your cock in me,” you specified, gripping his wrist again to slow his pace. He hummed in response, moving a strand of hair out of your face and pressing little kisses to your exposed neck. 

Feeling he’d teased you enough, Felix pulled his boxers down and tossed them aside, gasping as you jerked him twice and thumbed at his tip. 

“Fuck, stop,” he begged you. “I don’t want to finish yet.”

You, nodded removing your panties with ease and waiting patiently as he slid a condom efficiently over his length and positioned himself. Before you could lay back and spread, he gripped your waist again, lifting you onto his lap and rubbing against your soaking slit. 

“Wanna fuck up into you,” he said. “Wrap your arms around me.”

You did as told, grabbing hold of his warm gray hoodie and taking a deep breath as he lowered you on to him. 

Felix let out a hearty moan, soaking in how good it felt. You’d ridden him once before, but this was something else. Needy hands grabbed at each other, making desperate attempts to grope your flesh and bring you closer to him. His hands rested on your lower back and syncopated with your breathing as he lifted you down on to him and bucked his hips up into you. 

You felt every inch of his cock twitching inside of you, about to fill you up before you caressed his jaw and pleaded. “Don’t move,” you instructed. “I just want to feel you for a second.”

Felix did as told, slowing his thrusts down and reciprocating as you leaned down for a sloppy kiss. His cock pulsated against your already throbbing clit, sending shivers down your spine as you kissed him again, and again. Making him feel every ounce of your want for him and only him.

His mouth was wet with drool, giant sultry eyes so full of want and need for your body. When you pulled away, you took in his face for a second. Although it was dark, you could still make out the flush of his cheeks around his freckles. Dark strands of hair hung loosely around his jaw, and the musk of his cologne filled the air as he sweated profusely in the steamy car. 

“Okay,” you said finally. “Cum in me. Please.”

The words were all it took before Felix thrust up into you again, his nose scrunching and mouth agape as he shot thick, white strands of his pleasure into the rubber. 

You let out a breathy sigh as he slid out of you, tying up the condom and tossing it aside.

But you didn’t move from off of him, instead holding him and pressing little kisses to his forehead. Like clockwork, the tears began to flow. You kissed them back up his cheeks, letting the salty taste melt on your already salted tongue.

“It’s okay,” you assured, and he sniffled with innocent puppy-dog eyes that looked up at you. You wrapped a hand around his hair, pulling him closer and ruffling his locks with empathy. “You okay? That was really good.”

He nodded, wiping his tears with sleeves that enveloped his hands like little paws. “Felt really good,” he said, letting out another choked sob. 

“I know,” you replied. “I know it’s a lot. I’ve got you.”

It was usually at this point that Felix’s crying began to lessen, but he started crying even harder at your consolation.

“Felix?” you asked, getting worried with his growing sadness. He nuzzled his face into your neck, letting tears fall to your neck and wet your hoodie. 

“Don’t forget me,” he said suddenly, and you were taken aback by his pleading tone.

You pushed him away, tilting his chin up to meet yours again.

“Felix,” you said. “Nothing could ever make me forget you. You’re my best friend. We’ll see each other again.”

He nodded, but a smile was still absent from his expression. 

You pulled him in for another hug, rubbing circles into his hoodie and shushing him gently. 

“My star,” you cooed tenderly. “Could never forget you.”

Your hands grazed the back of his neck as he held you too, feeling small and vulnerable, but safe. Always safe. 

*

“You may not like it, but you better learn how, ‘cause it’s your turn now”

Felix left on a Thursday.

It was a dark September morning, the day too early to reveal what the weather would bring. He wore a hoodie and his favorite sweatpants, looking especially boyish with a bulky pair of headphones around his neck, his sleek black hair pushed back with a headband. One of yours- one he’d found in the backseat of his car. 

He packed the remainder of his bags, glancing over at your street in the chill of the September air as his mom loaded the car with his belongings. 

I’ll see her soon, he assured himself. After all, you had promised you wouldn’t forget him. 

The day prior was spent with his family, enjoying one last home-cooked meal with his mom and sisters. They exchanged a few gifts they’d generously picked for him, knowing they’d miss his 19th birthday, just 2 weeks out from his departure date.

Felix cried at the gesture, the idea of a birthday spent alone suddenly filling him with dread. 

And after double counting his bags, his family was off to sleep. “Don’t use your phone,” his mother had remarked several times. “We need to be at the airport very early tomorrow.”

And when he was sure she was asleep, little snores confirming his theory, Felix climbed out of his window and disappeared into the dimly lit streets, mentally apologizing to his mom for disobeying every one of her orders.

The air was more unforgiving than when he’d escaped in the summer months, painting little goosebumps on his bare arms and showing his breath back to him when he exhaled. 

Still, he ran. He ran and ran, and he didn’t waste a second booking it to your place.

Your window was left ajar as it usually was, you sitting up in bed with a book. When the crunch of leaves drew your attention to the paned glass, you knew exactly who it was. 

Felix usually did his best to lead into your sessions as a gentleman would, inquiring about your day and sharing little bits of his. But his heartbeat quickened with every passing second, knowing this was it. This was the last time he’d have you for who knew how long, and his body ached for yours already.

You wasted no time helping him climb inside, already attaching your lips to his, as he guided you back into your bed. 

He pulled his t-shirt over his head, slipping off your nightgown too, pressing hungry kisses to your thighs and moaning against your soft skin. 

He wanted to say something, he wanted so badly to tell you how sorry he was for brushing past your day, that he did in fact care, but that he needed all of you first. He wanted to apologize for all the times he ignored you in the hallways back at school, mentally punishing himself for not being a more prominent part of your teenage years sooner. He wanted to tell you that Oreo McFlurries all tasted like you now, and they always would. For as long as he remembered you.

Your hands in his hair brought him back to the moment, and he wasted no time attaching his drooly tongue to your clit, moving back and forth like a starving animal eating for the first time in days. 

His licks turned into saliva-filled kisses, wrapping his lips around your clit and making loud sucking noises as he pulled back and left no inch of your folds untasted. Between his licking and ravenous kisses, you felt your body tense as you reached your high. It must’ve been a new record, you thought to yourself, as your legs trembled and you leaked cum all over his pretty face. 

Your orgasm was intoxicating, but your need for him kept you aching, and you knew you had a lot more left in you still.

Felix’s mouth met yours again, letting you taste yourself on his wet lips. He smiled in between kisses, trailing kisses down to your breasts and suckling each nipple with soft hums. 

“Gonna make you feel so good tonight,” he said for the first time tonight, in between breathless kisses. “Just lay back. You don’t have to lift a finger.”

You shivered at his words, an agreement you normally didn’t do when you linked. You always returned the favor in one way or another, but tonight, he wanted to prove himself to you. 

As he pressed kisses down your torso, he complimented you between gasps for air, making you giggle as you looked down at him. “So… beautiful…” he’d say. “So soft… love how you’re always ready for me…”

His mouth found his way to your clit again, and you didn’t care that you were already overstimulated from your first orgasm. He kissed you all over, paying careful attention to your swollen clit, moaning as you stifled screams and gasps. 

Felix tasted you for what felt like hours. You’d finished all over him a total of three times already, and well into the fourth, you pulled him up by his hair. “Need you,” you said, your insides aching to clench around him just once. 

He didn’t waste any time demanding you specify your words, knowing exactly what you wanted from him. His boxers were stained with dark gray spots of wetness, and you realized he must’ve been aching for you too. The thought of his straining bulge made you even wetter for him, if that was even possible.

Hoisting your legs up around his waist, Felix wrapped himself up and thrusted into you with more force than you’d felt from him before. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, your nails scratching red marks all over his forearms.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, pausing for a moment. You shook your head no, moving a strand of hair out of his face. 

With that, he thrust into you again, and again, loud moans and whimpers escaping his lips like you’d never heard before. As he watched your fucked-out expression, he snaked a hand around your throat, lining your eyesight up with his. 

“Look at me,” he demanded. You kept your gaze on him, pondering how this was the same person who so delicately kissed you and held your hand when you weren’t underneath him like this. 

“You gonna miss me?” he asked between rhythmic thrusts. You nodded. 

“You gonna think of me when you touch yourself?” he asked, and your heartbeat quickened at his tone. 

“Yes,” you replied, barely above a whisper.

“You gonna tell me when you’re all wet and needy for me? You gonna touch yourself and think of how I fucked you?”

Your heartbeat kept quickening, his words both dizzying and unexpected.

“Felix…” you said, but your voice trailed off as he quickened his pace again.

“Say it again,” he ordered.

“Felix.”

“Louder. Want the neighbors to hear how good I fuck you.”

“Felix!” You said louder as he moved even faster, your nails clawing into his back as your own voice filled your ears. 

When you opened your eyes, his nose was scrunched in pleasure, followed by his plump lips parted, which chased his high. He moaned for what seemed like several minutes, thrusting himself empty, and slowing inside of you, making sure you were completely overstimulated before pulling out. 

You sat up quickly, knowing he was going to cry himself silly tonight. As you pressed your hands to his cheeks, already rubbing your thumbs at his lashes, he nuzzled into you and pulled you closer. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice shaky with overwhelming sadness already. 

But this time, you felt yourself start to cry, too. Your eyes welled with tears at the sight of him, holding you like a small child clutches a teddy bear, crying into your knees and letting little sobs escape his parted lips. When he heard your sniffles, he looked up at you, pouting through tears at the sight. It was his turn to pull you close, placing a gentle hand to the back of your head and holding you close to his chest, afraid he might break you if he didn’t maintain his fragile embrace.

He didn’t ask why you cried. He just stayed like that, holding you close to him, listening to your quiet sobs like music and grazing his hands over the skin he’d previously bruised and made a mess of. 

3:56am.

Felix hadn’t meant to lose track of time this badly, and you knew he was supposed to leave for the airport in just an hour. 

“Felix,” you said to him. “I didn’t mean to keep you up this late…”

He shook his head firmly, wiping his cheeks with the corner of your sheets. 

“I can sleep on the plane,” he responded. His eyes were puffy and red, and you thumbed over his eyelids in attempts to soothe the irritated skin.

You pulled away, sliding out of your bed and pulling on your nightgown. “Have a little surprise for you,” you said, hoping to get at least a smile out of him before he left tonight. 

It worked, his lips pulled into a curious grin as he slipped a shirt on himself, too.

“What is it?,” Felix remarked. 

You didn’t respond, instead digging through your drawers and pulling out a small tube. 

You tossed it over to him, his skilled fingers catching it quickly and observing it under the moonlight peering through the window.

“Your chapstick!” he said with a smile. “Raspberry.”

You smiled back at him and shrugged.  “Little taste of home.”

He twisted the tube between his slender fingers for a bit, uncapping it and bringing it up to his swollen lips. 

You watched as he glided the cherry color across his smile, running over the tint with his tongue and smacking his lips together lightly. 

“Tastes like you,” he remarked. 

You shrugged again with a smile. “We match now.”

You urged Felix to go home and get at least an hour of sleep, but he refused defiantly, asking to be held in your blankets until he had to leave. 

So you did. And for the last time he was able to, Felix asked about your day. He kept his eyes on you the whole time, careful not to blink excessively in case he missed the way your face lit up at the mention of your future college life. He took note of the way your chest rose and fell with slow breaths, clearly tired but not enough to leave his side. 

You told him all about what you still had to pack before leaving for university. About the book you started this morning, the second one in a trilogy. You recounted your favorite songs, suggesting a few to him, which he added to a playlist for his flight. 

The two of you reminisced the summer days, which had slipped by you in the blink of an eye, taking all your carefree thoughts with them. You voiced your favorite moments in his car- both sexual escapades and late-night McDonald’s runs, and he shared his own discoveries and favorite moments back to you. 

He said he hoped your next lover would appreciate the smell of your raspberry lips as much as he did. And you silently wished he’d find someone who held him after intense sessions the way you learned he needed.

But before you knew it, the clock read 4:48am. 

You knew Felix’s mom would be waking him any moment now, and he needed to be back in his own bed fast. 

“Go,” you said, as he propped himself up and scanned over your alarm clock once again. “You’ll get in trouble.”

You followed as he slid out from your warm comforter, fixing up his hair and towering over you. 

With a straight, yet heavy expression, he looked down and tilted your chin up with one finger, placing a gentle kiss to your lips and pulling away after a few seconds.

“It was fun,” you said, and he smiled in response, though saying nothing back. 

You followed him back to the window, where he hoisted himself over the ledge and back into the cool September air.

Turning on his heel, Felix brought two fingers up to his forehead, giving you a little salute and a smile. 

“Catch ya later,” he said, and disappeared again into the morning fog. 

You hoped so. You really, really hoped so. 

*

“I’m starting to suspect you don’t intend to do anything you say at all.”

The months that followed were tainted heavily by Felix’s absence. The lulling clouds and light drizzles that spanned far into November reminded you that the seasons did in fact change, whether you wanted them to or not. 

Your college dorm was small and cramped, and the smooth white walls felt like that of a prison most days. But your roommate was nice, and the two of you hit it off fast. Late nights were spent snacking in the dining hall, where the two of you would gossip about the boys you shared classes with, making lewd remarks that remained a fun game between the two of you. 

You spent most of your days in the library, a favorite spot of yours on the 8th floor that overlooked the busy streets and provided ample content to people-watch. 

And you never heard from Felix. 

You didn’t reach out, knowing he was busier than ever, his phone usage probably monitored heavily by the executives there. And such was life- the summer interactions like the games you now played with your new college roommate; between the two of you, and not meant to be an object of permanence by any means. 

But some days, you took it harder than others. 

Some days you were angry with yourself for sacrificing so much, barely recognizing the curves and birthmarks that painted your nude frame, upset that anyone had ever touched them. 

Other days, you stifled toothy smiles in the palms of your hands, when you remembered the activities both of you got up to that summer. Some of the most incredulous, dirty-minded positions came flooding back to your memory, and no one around you would ever suspect such a pristine girl to have tried the things she did. 

You did touch yourself to the memories of them, hoping your roommate wouldn’t hear the little gasps you let out with your hands between your thighs at such an ungodly hour. But as time passed on, the memories were less vivid, melting colors and tastes into obscurity, until you couldn’t get off to them anymore. 

And then one day in your second year, Mark entered your life.

*

At first, you were convinced there had to be a catch, when he approached you in the library to borrow a pencil, slipping his phone number to you in exchange. 

His dusty blue hair and stylish outfit had caught your eye in passing once, but you’d never considered the possibility of him noticing you. 

Yet that he did, sealing his action with a closed-mouth smile, gesturing to your phone and miming a texting gesture at you. “Yo, like, you should text me or something. I always see you around here.”

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly, fascinated with the casual way he talked. 

“I don’t even know your name,” you remarked jokingly. 

“Oh my bad,” he said, reaching a hand out to you. “I’m Mark. My friends usually call me Mark.”

You laughed again, meeting his hand halfway with yours and shaking once. “Y/n.”

“Dang, that’s a cool name,” he said. “It totally suits you.”

You cocked your head slightly, his words igniting a spark in you. “I’d hope so,” you replied. “Had it for 20 years.”

“Oh cool, you’re like a year younger than me,” he replied. “Second year?” 

You nodded, taking in his features for a second. His warm smile and doe eyes were inviting, yet the way his chiseled jawline framed strands of sapphire hair was hot. 

You stayed quiet for a second, before he broke the silence. “Listen, I gotta head to my evening class. But would you wanna like, grab a coffee or something? Or like, maybe get dinner? It’s a 3-hour lecture so I’ll be out kinda late but I’m probably gonna grab some takeout-”

His rambling was endearing. You cut him off with an eager nod, swinging your bag over your shoulder. “I’ll like, totally text you. Yo.” you said. 

With an amused smile, you looked back once as you made your way to the elevator and disappeared between the twin doors. He kept his gaze on you from across the room, sticking his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans and smiling back.

The amusing encounter was the start of a whole new chapter for you.

*

“How quickly they turn sour, so be careful who you screw.”

College came and went quicker than you imagined it would. What took years of mental preparation seemed to fly by, the end of every semester always catching you by surprise. 

You and Mark stuck together through the end of your college career. While he graduated a year earlier than you, he still visited every week of your last year, bringing you iced coffee and showering you with kisses as you studied in your same spot at the library. His friends also took a liking to you, and you were happier than you’d ever been before when you were around him. 

Mark graduated with a degree in biology, getting a prestigious post-college internship at a research institution almost immediately after graduating. You completed your courses in business, excelling in all of them, grateful you had so many friends and a loving boyfriend for a support system. 

And then you graduated, walking the stage in a dark blue dress (per Mark’s request), basking in the cheers of Mark and his friends, who made obnoxious neon signs and bought you the biggest gift basket you’d ever seen. 

You began your work at a small ad agency, spending hours producing digital ads and writing pieces, coming home to your little shared apartment with Mark. It was a dingy box on the South Side, but with a little decorating, the two of you fell in love with the way it brought you closer together. 

You enjoyed the months you couldn’t afford a mattress yet, keeping each other warm on the carpeted floor and using spare jackets as blankets. You bargained for furniture at secondhand shops, scoring the jackpot when you picked up the velvet couch of your dreams, one which you’d quickly come to spend most of your time on. The little kitchen table that only seated two, which proved a problem when you had friends over. But one that the two of you enjoyed home-cooked meals and greasy takeout on together, every night that you possibly could. 

Mark was gentle with you. He was funny, outgoing, and smarter than anyone you’d ever known. You wondered sometimes what you did to deserve him. The two of you grew up together, much like you and Felix once did. 

After graduation, Mark dyed his hair black for the first time in years, which you simply couldn’t get enough of. You lost weight after college, transitioning your closet from comfortable hoodies and sweatpants to dresses and blouses. The two of you coordinated outfits on errand days, which his friends never ceased teasing you for. 

And you were happy. Truly and honestly happy.

One rainy Wednesday night, Mark took you out, deeming it a celebratory event following your raise at work. 

“Here’s to… money,” Mark said with a smile, bringing his glass up to yours with a little clink.

You weren’t hard to please, requesting the celebratory meal be at your favorite ramen shop a couple blocks away. Mark insisted on something fancier, but let you pick your first choice in the end. He never pressured you, one of the many things you loved about him. 

In between slurping noodles and telling tales of work, you were interrupted by music playing on the television high on the wall, drowning out Mark’s story with loud rap. 

“Jeez,” you remarked. “Can’t they lower that? That’s so annoying.”

Mark adjusted his body toward the tv, bobbing his head at the thumping beat. “I dunno, I kinda like it.”

You scoffed. “This garbage? You’re crazy.”

He kept his eyes glued to the tv, eyebrows furrowed in a teasing manner as he continued to bob his head along and ad-lib the loud singing.

“Maniac... Maniac,” he hummed along, laughing at the screen and craning his head to keep watching. 

You watched too, eyes glued to the colorful outfits and coordinated dancing. Your eyes scanned over the lyrics on the screen, realizing at this point that the song wasn’t in English. 

if you think I’m just pure and innocent, you’re wrong, 

when a favor continues, people think it’s their right, toxic, 

this is what drives me crazy, warning

As a deep voice filled the room, your eyes remained glued to the figure in a green coat and purple beanie, heart stopping briefly in your chest while your mind raced a million miles per minute. 

The familiarity of every feature grazed your conscience with a rude awakening. 

You watched as the screen panned to someone with red hair, and another with purple hair. It was a few seconds before you spotted him again, a longer shot of him looking up at impressive skyscrapers. But it confirmed your theory. 

It was Felix. 

Mark’s singing began to annoy you now, the whole restaurant flooding with the same catchy chorus, most eaters now also craning their necks to watch the colorful group dance in sync. 

“Could you stop?” you said suddenly, and Mark turned to you with a confused expression. 

“Stop what?” he asked, questioning your sudden change of tone. 

You didn’t answer, prodding at the noodles left in your bowl with chopsticks. The song overhead finished, transitioning to a slower song sung by a Korean woman this time.

“Y/n?” Mark asked again, waving a hand in front of you as your brows furrowed relentlessly at the dinner in front of you. 

“Nothing,” you replied. “I was talking to my chopsticks. Sorry.”

Mark nodded, glancing back up at the screen and evidently thinking nothing of it. “She’s good,” he said. “Do you think she’s actually playing the piano?”

You didn’t answer, your brain and heart still racing with emotions that made you want to scream from atop a skyscraper. Any appetite you previously had for celebration dissipated quickly. 

*

Their group wasn’t bad. Not by any means. 

You did your research carefully, strategically logging out of your shared Youtube account with Mark to binge their music videos and interviews. 

Felix seemed to have gone through a million different hair colors already. Black, green, silver, red, pink, even a long blonde wig which you liked more than you cared to admit. 

You watched his interviews, picking him out from the group of 8 every time, keeping your focus on his mannerisms and crafted responses to superficial questions. 

You quickly came to realize not much had changed about him. They dubbed him brownie boy- a name which you chuckled at in a melancholy tone, remembering the taste of them all too well. He loved dancing. He smiled after almost everything he said. His freckles were still his most prominent feature. 

He even spoke of his hometown, telling an interviewer how much he’d hoped to visit again someday. Something you scoffed at, knowing all too well he must be too caught up in the glitz and glamor to give two shits about all of this. 

It became an addiction for a few weeks, picking apart anything he said and interpreting where he’d been, what he’d seen out there. Who he might have fucked after you. 

But the clips pointed you nowhere, filling your mind with useless knowledge about his various taekwondo medals and first impressions of his members. 

And just like it entered, your new fixation exited your routine suddenly. 

You tossed your phone on your bed one night, letting out an exasperated sigh after closing three tabs of useless articles and finding nothing in them. 

“You good?” Mark asked. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Just stressed.”

He turned to face you, placing his phone down by his pillow as well.

“Is it that new thing at work?”

You rested your cheek on your hand, turning to face him too, noting the genuine look of care in his widened eyes. 

“Yeah,” you replied. “Something like that.”

He held his gaze on yours for a minute, his eyes stretching into a smile as he let out a little laugh. 

“Well you know I’m always here for you. Do you want to, like, talk about it or something?”

You smiled back at him, shaking your head in response. 

There was no feasible explanation as to why you were bothered by the whole thing. The whole affair was nearly 5 years old now- you were a completely different person at that time. Maybe it was the idea of giving your body to someone who was so unchanged by it, he’d moved on to a whole new life without so much as a phone call. You loved Mark. You wouldn’t trade the relationship between you two for anything- or rather, anyone. But the pent up anger from being a side piece to someone who only pretended to care about you to get in your pants was hard to ignore. 

“Y/n?” Mark interrupted, and your gaze snapped back to his, humming in question.

“I asked if you were in the mood tonight.” He repeated shyly.

“Oh, uh. Yeah! Sure.” You tried to slide your shorts off awkwardly, the knot on your waistband getting stuck as you rushed to fulfill his ask. 

“Stupid pants,” you said, fumbling clumsily with them and quickly getting angry.

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything tonight. I’m kinda beat anyway.”

You fiddled with the knot some more, keeping your gaze away from his now, hoping he wouldn’t notice any change in your demeanor. 

“No no, it’s cool,” you replied dryly. “Seriously, I want to.”

Mark reached over, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead and retying the string on your pajama shorts. 

“I’m not doing anything when you’re all distracted. It’s not right. Go to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll go somewhere for breakfast, yeah?”

With one hand gently grazing over your stomach, he reached over your small frame, turning out the lamp and pulling you closer as darkness washed over the room. A small sliver of moonlight through the window shone over your face, and you hoped Mark wouldn’t notice the single tear running down your cheek. 

*

“Do the wires in your mind get sewn together, rubbed and severed by the heat?”

The whole thing was stupid. You knew that, and you couldn’t keep doing this to Mark. 

He’d been there for you since the start of your life without Felix, and you never had to doubt the love he had for you. Mark was a permanent fixture in your otherwise monotonous life and the only interesting thing about it, at that. 

Maybe this was the universe’s way of reminding you to be grateful for what was here.

And that you were. You made it up to Mark several times since that week, surprising him with new lingerie sets when you could, and cooking a week’s worth of his favorite meals. 

“It’s not even my birthday…” he’d always remark through hungry kisses, barely having time to set aside his briefcase before you dropped to your knees and finished him off right there in the hallway. 

And things seemed to go back to normal. 

Or at least you thought. 

The business campaign you were working on was stressful- that, you hadn’t lied to Mark about. 

Late nights turned into early mornings in front of your laptop, typing away at spreadsheets and pulling together presentation decks for your boss.  

Mark typically knew when to leave you alone, only interrupting to bring you hot coffee and little snacks late into the night, until he’d fall asleep in the bedroom and wait for you to join. Sometimes, your work consumed your ability to sleep. 

Tonight, after dinner, Mark tended to his usual routine of brewing you a cup of coffee, knowing it was going to be another late night for you. 

Just a few more days of this, you promised him.

He wasn’t mad at your dedication to your work, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss cuddling in bed together. 

“Shit,” you heard him say loudly. “We’re out of creamer.”

You glanced up over your laptop. 

“Darn. I’ll just have it plain.”

He bent down to the first level of the fridge, peering around like a bottle might suddenly appear. 

“Nah, I’ll go buy some. I’ll just be a few,” he said, closing the door and adjusting the knit black beanie on his head.

You looked up at him again, feeling a sense of guilt as he scanned the granite counter for his car keys.

“No no, you stay,” you said to him, lowering your laptop screen but not closing it fully. “I’ll go. I need a break anyway.”

He cocked his head a little. “I don’t even think the grocery store is open this late. Let me go to the convenience store and get one of those small cartons.”

You shook your head again, standing up and reaching for the keys that had been in your eyesight the whole time. 

“I’ll go to the one further away. No biggie.”

Mark smirked a little as you pulled on your sneakers. “You’re getting in the way of my plan to secretly buy those cookies I like.”

You let out a gentle laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek and slinging your purse over your shoulder. 

“Was already on my shopping list, silly.”

“Love you!” He shouted behind you, laughing as you jokingly waved him off and made your way to your car.

Your favorite convenience store was a few minutes away, by your parents’ house. They didn’t have an extensive selection of groceries, but they did have vanilla coffee creamer, and Mark’s favorite cookies. And that was enough to keep you coming back. 

It was the same convenience store you’d practically grown up at, piling rice balls and mochi donuts on the counter after every drunken night out. 

So much that the staff knew you by name, often “forgetting” to scan an item or two and keeping it a secret from the store manager. 

The little bell chime indicated your entrance, and right away you were met with enthusiastic greetings from the employees. 

“Y/n!” the regular employee exclaimed, ushering you to the newly placed display of rice balls. 

You chuckled in response. “Just here for creamer, actually! But that is very tempting.”

You made your way around the display to the fridge, grabbing two bottles and hastily finding your place in line.

Only two people stood in front of you, and you scrolled through social media on your phone as they rang up their items and trickled out of the store. 

At your turn, you placed both bottles on the counter, suddenly remembering Mark’s cookies you’d forgotten. “Sorry, let me grab one more thing!”

You sauntered two aisles down to the cookies while the cashier scanned, and then stopped when you noticed one box left on the shelf. One that was already being carefully examined by another shopper. 

Feeling a sense of discouragement, you pretended to look over the other options, knowing very well Mark didn’t like just any option. He was always very passionate in his request for jam-filled shortbreads. 

The shopper stood tall, back faced to you, as they scanned the nutrition labels and shifted the box around in their grip. 

Just decide, you urged them mentally. 

“Excuse me, are there any more of those?” You spoke suddenly, surprising yourself with your rather sharp tone. 

He turned on his heel, a serious expression on his face as his eyes met with the rushed voice. 

And you knew immediately. 

Despite the black beanie pulled snugly over his locks, oversized hoodie that swallowed his figure, and a thin black mask covering his nose and mouth, you knew in his eyes. 

Almond brown eyes filled with warmth and intensity, offset by the familiar beige galaxies that scattered across his eyelids, the rest concealed by his dark mask. What a shame it was, to cover something so beautiful. 

You could tell he knew, too, his gaze fixated on yours for a minute, saying nothing as he maintained his tenacious grip on the cardboard box. Your thoughts ran at a record pace, swirling around your head like harsh waves in a tsunami, searching for something- anything to cling on to. 

Say nothing, you told yourself. Leave. 

And before he could get a word out, you dropped your gaze to the tiled floor below him. “Nevermind. You can keep them.”

The convenience store spun all around you, much like the storm brewing in your head, as you practically sprinted back to the counter and slapped a twenty in front of the employee, who’d already bagged your coffee creamers. 

“Keep the change,” you said to him, before snatching the bag off the counter and making a beeline for your car. 

Your hands shook as you put the key in the ignition, seeing him exit the store out of your peripheral vision. Like a lost animal searching for safety, his head scanned over the cars in the parking lot, stopping in dismay as he recognized you again, this time through your foggy car window. 

Your head remained straight, forced tunnel vision on the giant soda advert plastered on the window of the store in front of you. 

And without so much as a glance in his direction, you made your way out of the lot and back toward your apartment. 

*

Hours spent replaying the interaction in your head quickly turned to days, and Mark could tell once again that something wasn’t right. You felt yourself sink back into that place of uncertainty and unresolved doubts. 

On top of that, your daily routine was beginning to drive you crazy. Wake up, work, come home, work. 

Sleep. Repeat. 

It also didn’t help that things between you and Mark had fallen tense in the past few weeks. 

Nights you worked late, he often did too, staying at the lab for a few hours extra and coming home more tired than ever. You tried to initiate intimacy with him, but it seemed he was the one declining lately. 

During your few minutes together before work, you broke the groggy silence to speak. 

“I need to go to my parents’ for a few days.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at you, cocking his head while chewing his toast. “Your parents’ place? Like, across town? Why?”

You shrugged, swirling a spoon around in your bowl of cereal. 

“I need some time. And space.”

He swallowed his bite of toast dramatically. “Are you- I mean, are we okay?”

You reassured him with a small smile. “Yeah, we’re okay. It’s just the stress of work and life. Want to make sure I get time to say hi to mom and dad, you know?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah, for sure. When are you planning on going?”

You got up from your seat at the table, bringing your bowl to the sink and giving it a light rinse. “Tonight. I’m just gonna pack a bag and go straight there after work. I already let my boss know I’ll be out for a couple days.”

Mark nodded again. “Okay, well say hi to them for me. I’ll hold down the fort over here.”

You walked over to him, pressing a little kiss to his temple, and grabbed your laptop.

“We’re okay,” you repeated. “And I love you.”

He didn’t respond, looking down  at his food as he pondered your words.

You left for work earlier than usual, stuffing a duffel bag of clothes in your trunk and letting your parents know you’d be there later. The work day went by slowly, projects and emails confirming that you did indeed need a few days away from all this. By the time the end of the day finally rolled around, you wasted no time booking it to your car and changing out your heels for a pair of sneakers. 

*

Your childhood home was on the other side of town, but the rush hour of traffic on a Friday evening doubled the time it took for you to get there. When you did, mom was already out for her night shift, and dad wasn’t even home for the week. 

Maybe coming here for the purpose of saying hi to mom and dad was a bit of a lie. But you had been honest to Mark about needing time and space. And several days off. Days you hoped to spend curled up in your childhood bed catching up on sleep. 

Your room was largely unchanged. There were still little holes scattered on the walls from where your posters were hung with thumbtacks, but the walls remained void of any new decor. The carpet was the same too, down to the prominent coffee stain you’d gotten on it nearly a decade ago. Your window still gave a clear view of the streets beyond yours, framed artistically by overgrown vines in the front yard.  

With a deep sigh, you leaned against the frame of the sill, soaking in the familiarity of it all. It was just like you remembered, and a part of you almost hoped you’d see something different. Maybe even someone. 

There was no doubt that the room brought memories of Felix flooding right back. You still remembered the way he’d knock on your window, always giving three straight thumps so you’d know it was him. A habit you found funny, remembering that he’d warn you not to open the window for any less than 3 knocks- because “2 knocks could be a serial killer’s greeting. And one knock could be a bear.”

These walls had heard some of the most obscene confessions, seen some of the most indecorous outfits you’d wear for him and only him. And yet, you found solace in knowing that they also housed some of the most intimate crying sessions, giddy laughter, and a blossoming relationship that would follow you so many years later. 

You stepped away from the window, finally making way to your bed and lying down with an exasperated sigh. Maybe a part of you hoped Felix was still in town. Maybe a part of you even came here on the off-chance he would come visit. 

Thoughts you shoved to the back of your mind, not having the emotional capacity to deal with the idea that you longed to experience it all over again. 

*

Mornings in your parents’ house were nothing like the way they were at Felix’s. Mom was always asleep for the day, having come home early in the morning from her shift. Dad usually wasn’t home. 

Such was the way things were when you awoke the next morning, birds chirping outside your window to indicate the start of a new, sunny day. You rolled over in your tangled sheets, squinting heavy eyes at your alarm clock and catching a glimpse of the time.

9:46am.

You’d surprised yourself with how tired you were, stretching your limbs lazily and staring at the blank ceiling above you. When you finally sat up in bed, the smell of breakfast hit your nose instantly. 

The house filled with scents of grilled meat and freshly brewed coffee, and you could make out the faint noises of the toaster popping and oil sizzling. 

Mom must have prepared breakfast for your return today. You wasted no time putting on your house slippers and bolting out the door to greet her, already appreciative of her kind gesture. When you turned the corner into the kitchen, a foreign sight caught you off guard. 

Your mom stood in front of the stove, scrambling eggs around in a frying pan as you’d predicted. 

And sat at the dinner table, stuffing forkfuls of Canadian bacon and sips of hot coffee in his mouth, was Felix. 

You audibly gasped, and Felix looked up from his plate to acknowledge you. 

He wore a plain white t-shirt, his straight hair hung loosely around his face with no particular placement, yet still somehow perfectly styled. 

A pair of silver earrings dangled by his neck as he looked up at you, mouth full of food. In an instant, he pushed his chair out from behind him and stood up, saying nothing as he continued to chew. Without the ability to talk, he gave you a small wave, which you ignored. 

You were suddenly self-conscious of your own appearance, looking far too casual in a tank top and shorts, house slippers loudly announcing you’d only just woken up. Your hair was still in yesterday’s work bun almost falling out of the flimsy hair tie, and the lack of makeup was more than hard on the eyes. 

Before he could finish chewing to get a sentence out, you shouted out to your mom, who still hadn’t noticed your arrival. “Taking a really important work call in the other room, could you keep it down please?”

She shouted back over the loud sounds of oil sizzling. 

“Sure thing, but look who’s here! Ah, it’s burning! Hold on,” And she turned her attention back to the stove. 

You looked over at Felix again, who’d finished chewing at this point, still standing awkwardly in front of his plate and fiddling his hands together like a lost child. 

“Oh… it’s nice to meet you.” You said, with a little bow, turning around quickly and disappearing back into your room. 

You refused to entertain this. You weren’t going to give him what he wanted, to pretend he was interested in your life just to get in your pants one more time. You’d humiliated yourself enough the first time. 

Back in your room, you locked the door with force and shoved your desk chair under the knob, triple-checking to ensure it couldn’t be opened. You shut the blinds and hopped back into your bed, wrapping the comforter around you and trying your best to steady your breathing. But it was no use; the tears began anyway. 

You can’t remember how long you cried- it must have been hours before you drifted off to sleep again. When you woke up for the second time that day, it was well past 5 in the afternoon. 

Your skin was sticky with sweat and your hair was begging to be let out of its knotted mess. When you rolled out of bed, a pounding headache made itself present. Crying and sleeping for hours were always a lethal combination. 

After a long shower and some time to think it over, you felt small and stupid again. Were you doing the right thing? What was the point of coming here if not for closure? Why were you even here? 

A fleeting voice told you to ditch the whole trip and go back to the apartment. Back to your safe space with Mark, where the two of you could marathon dumb movies and make love on the couch like you always did. 

But you quickly dismissed the thought, reminding yourself that you weren’t going to let some dumb fling drive you away from a much-needed vacation at your parents’ place. When you confirmed that the coast was clear, you made your way back out to the kitchen, where your mom sat at the dinner table with a book. 

“Hi honey,” she said. “We waited for you, figured you got caught up in that work call of yours.” A slight raise of her eyebrow indicated she knew. 

You sighed, sitting on the chair across from her. 

“Want to tell me what happened?” She asked. 

You shook your head. “Things are just difficult right now. I don’t want to get caught up in… things that I shouldn’t.”

She nodded, setting her book down. “He left you a little gift in the corridor.”

Then she got up from her seat and hoisted her purse over her shoulder. “Leaving for the evening- make sure you lock all the windows before you sleep.”

When she was out of sight, you made your way to the corridor, finding a little white box on the console table by the entrance. It was wrapped neatly with a blue ribbon, in typical Felix fashion. You pulled one end, watching the tie come undone, and carefully lifted one end to reveal the contents inside. 

The scent hit you before the sight, and you knew instantly. His signature baked goods. 

*

You were up much earlier the next morning. The fresh summer air beckoned you to go outside, which you did, completing an almost 3-mile jog. Post-exercise, you ate a full breakfast, and then called Mark, his phone going straight to voicemail. 

It wasn’t typical of Mark to sleep in, but you knew he was busy at the lab late these days, so you opted for a quick text instead. 

Late night again? Call me when you can. Love you :)

There was something so freeing about having no plans, no to-do list, and better yet, no monotonous routine like you had most days.It was like you could do anything you wanted while you were here- which you did. You watched old reruns of cartoons, flipped through ancient yearbooks kept in boxes out in the storage shed, and even repaired some of the flawed spots on your walls with a can of white paint you found. You also finished piles of chores around the house for your parents, going so far as to fold and hang all their laundry for them. By the time you’d put away the last of the socks, it was well past 5 in the afternoon. 

The loud sound of the doorbell startled you from inside your parents’ shared closet. Had they been expecting any packages? The gardener, perhaps? You cautiously made your way to the front door, smoothing down your blouse and adjusting your shorts that had ridden up while you worked. You unlatched the door and opened it, feeling a drop in your chest as you locked eyes with the figure. 

“Hi,” he said, keeping his gaze locked on yours. 

You cleared your throat. “Hi…Can I…help you?”

His lips parted slightly, closing again as his expression changed to that of dejection. 

“Um… I just came to drop this off.” 

You looked at his hands; which clutched a little white envelope. 

“Okay,” you replied, reaching out to take it from him. He pulled his hands back a little so that the envelope was just out of reach. 

You looked up at him again with a questioning look. 

“Did I… I mean, how are you?” He asked awkwardly. 

“Me?” You said in reply, feeling annoyed at his persistence for an interaction. “Is this a new mailman greeting? I’m good. Can I get my mail now?”

Your heart dropped as soon as you finished speaking. It was a despicable bit you kept up, enough to hurt even yourself. 

His lips pulled together in a thin line, raising his eyebrows and looking down at his feet. 

“Ouch. Yeah, here you go.” He handed you the envelope, turning around and marching off without a word. 

You watched his head hang as he took confident strides away from you, getting farther out of reach with each passing second. 

“Wait,” you called after him, a moot point as he only kept walking. 

As soon as he was out of sight, you slammed the front door, eyes welling up with tears as you slid down the door and dropped to the floor. Why had you said something so stupid? You imagined yourself in his shoes briefly, shaking your head at the thought of him reducing your existence to that of a delivery person.

It was the third time this week you’d fucked up a chance at making amends with Felix. And by far the worst one- there was no way he’d be back any time soon. Or ever again, for that matter. 

You wiped tears with the back of your hand, suddenly remembering the letter he came here to drop off. After a few deep breaths, you examined it in your shaky hands, thumbing over the ink on the back that spelled your name. His handwriting looked the same as it did so many years ago- so neat and carefully placed. You tore it open timidly, pulling out a little yellow card. 

Y/n,

It’s been a while

I hope you still like brownies!

I’m going to the new coffee shop across the street tomorrow if you’d like to join

9am?

PS- I’m sorry for dropping by unannounced!

You read the letter once, then twice, then six more times before you could even comprehend what it was. 

Despite your ingenuous behavior all week, he was still willing to try and fix things with you. That was, up until a few minutes ago. The invitation still sat in your hand, but it would be a miracle if he agreed to go anywhere near you after the stunt you pulled. 

You tossed the letter aside, burying a tear-stained face in your hands as you began to cry again at the thought that you’d likely never see him again. 

He’d slipped through your fingers yet again, only this time, it was entirely your fault. 

*

“You’re wasting your time with lame excuses and lies”

Why were you even trying? In what universe would Felix agree to see you again after the stunt you pulled? 

It didn’t matter. Chalk it up to pure delusion and naivety, but you were up bright and early, all dressed up and ready to meet for coffee with him. If he didn’t show, you’d surely owe him an apology, which your ego silently prayed you wouldn’t have to track him down to deliver. And if he did, things would be unbearably awkward. You’d lose either way- but that’s not to say he hadn’t already had his share of loss dealing with your abhorrent attitude. 

You were grateful you packed some of your nicer clothes while you stayed at your parents’. You’d settled on a feminine white peasant top, a pair of fitted slacks, and spent the morning curling your hair to convince him you weren’t always an unpresentable slob despite the way you’d appeared all week. 

When you arrived, the shop was teeming with young couples and coffee connoisseurs. The lively atmosphere combined with gloomy warm lighting made for a romantic date location- forcing you to remind yourself that this was not in fact a date. You verily assumed it to be a working session- one where you two would sort out the awkward encounters and establish boundaries again. Followed by some brief small talk and a proper send-off so that you could finally shut him out of your mind for good. 

A short staircase led you to the upper level, where most of the tables were neatly decorated with glass vases of daisies that thrived in the sun beams illuminated along the rows of windows. You clutched your bag, looking around nervously and trying your best to steady the rapid thump of your heartbeat in your throat. Couples. Couples. A family. A pair of sisters. 

And on the last table, Felix. 

He looked mature in a sleek white turtleneck and dangly silver earrings, his ashy locks tucked neatly behind both ears. As you approached the table, he looked up for a brief second, shifting his eyes away once again as you pulled out the chair across from him and took a seat. 

You waited for him to say something, which he didn’t. 

Conversely, your pride didn’t allow you to speak first. 

“You’re blonde,” you said suddenly, your voice coming out much shakier than you had anticipated. 

He focused on you again, expression unchanged. 

“So you do remember me.”

Link to part 2 here

[crimsonred-hi]

Freckles

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader

Warnings: none

Request: yes/no

Summary: the summers in Ireland are slowly getting hotter, and that makes the garden seem more inviting.

The summers are getting warmer. Is that a good thing, who knows, but for Andrew it means he gets to see his girlfriend bask in the sun, making her skin glow.

He watches from the kitchen window, smiling dreamily at her sitting in the grass notepad and pen in hand. She glows in the light: in only some denim shorts and a sports bra, to combat the heat. He can’t stay away for long, so he doesn’t.

With in a minute he’s slotting himself behind her on the grass, draping his arms around her hips, resting his cheek on her shoulder. She smiles down at him, but doesn’t speak, just going back to her notepad. The calm of the scene makes his breathing slow and his heart race, his fingertips moving gently across her hips, her waist and her stomach, with his nose pressed into her shoulder.

Kisses, he starts to kiss her bare shoulder, taking in the smell of flowers and pollen she’s taken in from being outside so much. Lips pressed into every freckle, blemish, stretch mark he can find on her shoulders, moving her hair out of the path his lips are taking.

She leans back into him, leaning her head back against his shoulder so they can contact their eyes,

“What are you doing, Andrew…?”

He hums, not answering the question, instead moving forward to press his lips to hers. When he pulls apart he rubs his bearded cheek against her smooth cheek, making her laugh at the coarseness of his hair.

“You look lovely in the sun…”

He mumbles his words into her skin, leaving more kisses over her. Nuzzling his nose into her, making her giggle because it tickles.

“Stop, Andrew! That tickles! Stop!��

Her laughs and giggles are nothing but music to his ears, nothing but sweet music. Be he stops when she starts showing signs of her body hurting from laughing, he just holds her close, his face pressed into her shoulder as they bask in the sun together.

“Have you noticed how many more freckles you’ve got? And your hair is getting lighter, your practically a red head with how light your hairs gone.”

He’s barely listening to her as she speaks, his focus on how she’s started to scratch at his beard softly, his beard that’s go a red colour, sun bleached. She runs her fingertip along his nose, going on about how many freckles have appeared on his face with how much times he’s spending in the sun, wether he’s with his bees, sitting in the garden, or just sitting in the dining table with the rooms massive windows. He just hums along mindlessly, not really listening to her words.

“Are you listening to me?”

“… no.”

She sighs, just deciding to make herself comfortable with him holding her from behind as they sit in the grass. Watching the world go by.

He kisses her shoulder again,

“We tired the world, good God, it wasn’t for us.”

He says the lyric so softly, not melody to it, just saying it like it is a line of a poem.

“Well… the world is pretty shit, I’m rather happy to lie back watch it burn and rust with you.”

The words shot back at him, make him smile, she really knows his lyrics.

[astroismypassion]

Astrology observations 🪺🪺🪺

Credit goes to @astroismypassion

It’s well after Easter, I’ve intended it to post it earlier, but enjoy it still nevertheless.😊

🪺 Capricorn Moon always has older friends, either by a year or even 10 years older. Older people than them kind of “adopt” them as friends due to have mature they appear.

🐣 Scorpio Risings have wider area at the knees that stands out more in their overall body. Their knees are larger and more prominent even if they have slim legs.

🪺 Pisces Moons are incredibly resilient and persistent emotion wise in an argument. Their a bit manipulative nature can play out as you stressing yourself out on your own more then them stressing you. While they just silently observe and have a stress free attitude towards you. They know they can drain people by keeping calm and not reacting, so that the other person ends up more stressed then them and likely gives up on an argument.

🐣 Gemini IC always had pets growing up, most often cats, but could be any other animal as well. They might have an opinion that pets are a must in a home.

🪺 Aries over the 4th house dabbled into many, many sports when younger. This was the person to have roller skates at home, a scooter, skateboard, jumping rope, all types of balls, tennis rackets. They swam in the summer and skied in the winter. These people have A LOT of energy for different sports and they likely master every sport they put their mind to.

🐣 Jupiter in the 11th house can be undecided on marriage, they could marry unexpectedly, seemingly out of nowhere despite never talking much about marriage. Or they always picture marriage somewhere in the future when they think about their future goals.

🪺 Whenever Saturn is transiting your 2nd house you will be spending more with your family. You might also take familial relationships more seriously.

🐣 Capricorn Moons could often vacation with their family even after creating their own family or still well into adulthood. One celebrity example is Kourtney Kardashian, a Capricorn Moon native and the Kardashians are known for their family trips.

🪺 Aquarius Juno would always encourage their lover to pursue and follow their independent goals, dreams (especially connected with work and career). They might actually be okay if their lover doesn’t prioritize their partnership over career, long-term goals, desires and wishes. Also, Aquarius Juno natives are very entreprenurial people who always participate in group work projects, different creative side projects and are constantly involved with fun projects that allow them to follow their dream career.

🐣 Libra Juno or Juno in the 7th house might view marriage as the end goal of a partnership (or they grew up with that kind of mentality).

🪺 Pisces Mars, Mars Neptune and Mars in the 12th house in the Composite chart indicates that you would dedicate or gift each other art (songs, poems, illustrations, drawings, paintings).

🐣 Scorpio Rising often has two types as their “ideal mate”, either someone very creative and musical or very into daily routine, fitness, wellbeing, a sports person.

🪺 People with Eros at 22 or 28 degrees can be much slower to lose their virginity. I most often noticed they hold certain more conservative beliefs around sexuality, were raised more religious hence wanting to wait or might just feel like they can’t properly express their sexual nature when younger, might feel a bit repressed somehow.

🐣 Leo Moon and Moon in the 5th house, also Pisces Mars love to surround themselves with music throughout the day or whenever they are doing something.

🪺 Mars at a Pisces degree in the Composite chart indicates letter writing or you write each other really long e-mails.

🐣 Juno in the 12th house might truly be the person that don’t really have a type. They pay attention to the vibe they get with you. If they feel like they vibe with you and your presence, they vibe with you.

🪺 Mercury in the 1st house overlay in a Synastry chart can point to the fact that characteristics of your friends are different. You have almost opposing taste in friends. Your friends are not really that similar. Yet, you two still manage to have some mutual friends in common.

Credit goes to @astroismypassion

[fitz-higgins]

LGBT literature of the 1860s–1910s. Part 5

After a long pause, the list is back! Here we have a couple of plays, accounts by two trans women, lesbian poetry, and more.

1. Despised and Rejected, by A.T. Fitzroy (Rose Allatini; 1918). A pacifist novel published during World War One? With gay and lesbian characters? Yes, that was sure to get people in trouble. Its publisher was fined and the judge called it “morally unhealthy and most pernicious”. So, Dennis is a young composer who hates violence and therefore refuses to go to war. He also suffers because he is a “musical man”, that is, gay, and loves Alan, art-loving son of a wealthy businessman. His friend Antoinette, meanwhile, is “strangely attracted” to a woman. Nevertheless, the two attempt to love each other. When the war begins, Alan appears in Dennis’ life again, and they try to avoid being sent to the front together. Alan also persuades Dennis to accept who he is. Edward Carpenter himself defended the novel, saying that “the book is also a plea for toleration of a very much misunderstood section of humanity”. Read online

2. Autobiography of an Androgyne, by Ralph Werther (1918). Ralph Werther, also known as Jennie June, wrote this autobiography for doctors, and it is very revealing. Being a New York fairy (male prostitute) and possibly a trans woman, they tell frankly about the city’s gay underworld of the early 20th century and their personal experience, which is sometimes too frank and dark perhaps, but all the more interesting. Read online 

3. Poems by Mikhail Kuzmin. Kuzmin was not just the author of Russia’s first gay novel, but also a poet. Many of his works were dedicated to or mentioned his lovers. I’d recommend Where Will I Find Words (in English and Russian), Night Was Done (both in English and Russian), from the 1906-1907 collection Love of This Summer (available fully in Russian), mostly based on his love affair with Pavel Maslov in 1906. And also If They Say (in English and Russian), which is a great statement.

4. The Loom of Youth, by Alec Waugh (1917). A semi-biographical novel based on Evelyn Waugh’s older brother’s experience at Sherborne School in Dorset. It is a story of Gordon Caruthers’ school years, from the age of 13 to 19, and it is full of different stories typical for public schools, be it pranks and cheating exams or dorm life and sports. Although the homosexual subject was quite understated, the author implied that it was a tradition and open secret in public schools. The book became popular and soon caused a great scandal. Worth noting that before that Alec was expelled for flirting with a boy.  Read online 

5. Two Speak Together, by Amy Lowell (1919). Lowell was a famous American poet and lesbian. Many of her poems were dedicated to her lover, actress Ada Dwyer Russell, specifically the section Two Speak Together from Pictures of the Floating World. These poems are infused with flower imagery, which wasn’t uncommon for lesbian poetry of the time. Read online

6. De berg van licht/The Mountain of Light, by Louis Couperus (1905-1906). Couperus is called the Dutch Oscar Wilde for a reason: this is one of the first decadent novels in Dutch literature. It is also a historical one, telling about a young androgynous Syrian priest Heliogabalus who then becomes a Roman Emperor. Homoerotism, hedonism, aestheticism: Couperus creates a very vivid world of Ancient Rome. He also covered the topic of androgyny in his novel Noodlot, which was mentioned in Part 3 of this list. Read online in Dutch 

7. Frühlings Erwachen/Spring Awakening/The Awakening of Spring, by Frank Wedekind (1891, first performed in 1906). This play criticized the sexually oppressive culture prevalent in Europe at the time through a collection of monologues and short scenes about several troubled teens. Each one of them struggles with their puberty, which often leads to a tragic end. Like in The Loom of Youth, homosexuality is not the central focus of the play, but one character, Hänschen, is homosexual and explores his sexuality through Shakespear and paintings. The play was later turned into a famous musical. Read online in German or in English

8. Twixt Earth and Stars, by Radclyffe Hall (1906). Though it wasn’t known to many at the time, these poems were dedicated to women, some to Hall’s actual lovers. Read online

9. The Secret Confessions of a Parisian: The Countess, 1850-1871, by Arthur Berloget (published in 1895). This account is similar to the Autobiography of an Androgyne, albeit shorter. The author nowadays is thought to be a trans woman. They describe their love for women’s dresses, the euphoria from wearing dresses, makeup and wigs, the life as a “female impersonator” in Parisian cafe-concerts, and their love affair with a fellow prisoner. The autobiography is not available online, but you can read it in Queer Lives: Men’s Autobiographies from Nineteenth-Century France by William Peniston and Nancy Erber.

10. At Saint Judas’s, by Henry Blake Fuller (1896). This is possibly the first American play about homosexuality. It is very short. An excited groom is waiting for his wedding ceremony in the company of his gloomy best man. They are former lovers, and this short scene is not going to end well… Read online

Previous part is here

[lapetitebabydoll]

Hii lovelies I'm Azaiyah!💌

She/her

A white swan 🦢

5teen

January 22

Christian 💕

ྀི♡

I enjoy fashion, reading, daydreaming, studying, playing my instruments (piano, electric and acoustic guitar), baking, music (espically romantic or classical), journaling, scrolling through pinterest, shopping, playing tennis, and golf, watching new movies, rewatching gilmore girls!!

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

My color pallet ~ light pinks, cream, beige, white, brown

Most cherished bands/ artists ~ beabadoobee , twice, Ariana grande, laufey, radiohead, lana del rey, sza, the beatles, tchaikovsky, cigarettes after sex, artic monkeys, etc

Beloved movies ~ the prince of Egypt, Joseph king of dreams, black swan, mr church, beautiful boy, to all the boys, girl interrupted, Jennifer's body, princess diaries, the virgin suicides, the perks of being a wallflower, everything everything, monster in paris,etc

Shows dearest to me ~ Gilmore girls, when I fly towards you,criminal minds, ghost whispers, pride and prejudice (1995, the summer i turned pretty, the nanny, Anne with an e, strawberry shortcake (the old versions), etc

Books & poems I adore ~the bible, veil,the little prince, valley of the dolls, the virgin suicides, crime and punishment, Anabel lee, for Annie, the tell tale heart, gone girl, to all the boys, the summer I turned pretty, lolita, the poems of chuuya nakahara, no longer human, the bell jar, the pictures of dorain gray, etc

My sports ~ tennis, golf, figure skating, and cheer 💌

Admired quote ~ "She smelled like white roses and felt as fragile and satiny as her dress"

Dream job ~ house wife, dermatologist, apperal designer

Other socials

https://linktr.ee/cheriezai

Other blogs ~ @cheriezai (french blog), @angelfashion444 (fashion blog)

[moregraceful]

i'm TIRED!! of LOOKING AT THIS POEM!!!! AHHHHHHHHH

i sent it to lorna and she sent 9 crying emojis back so i'm calling it done.

transcript under the cut

TITLE: I Had A Dream That Chris Davis Was In Love

and it explained what happened, the ending, the rebuild.

It was his contract, but also, it wasn’t. Because

they were always destined to leave, almost everyone,

the guys he lost to the deadline trades, no contracts,

unsigned prospects, franchise pieces that walk.

[stanza break]

He wins. He loses. He loses again. He loses friends,

teammates, coworkers, brothers, lovers –

he can call them what he wants. Everyone saw him fall 

in love on the diamond. And now who does he call when 

he runs a cold streak of 54 games without a single hit?

[stanza break]

Salvation is one thing and grace is another.

Maybe his batting average is how God evens the score 

after he had lost everyone he fell in love with. Or maybe 

that's just professional sports. He wins and loses,

takes and gives, breathes and chokes on grace every game.

The ballpark’s as much a cathedral as anything else,

but his teammates, his coworkers are more forgiving.

Maybe his brothers, lovers, they wanted to save him too.

[stanza break]

He got “SALVATION” tattooed on his arm, a reminder that 

there’s an end to this untidy life, but his savior is not

waiting above him in a cloudless summer sky. 

His savior is the dirt in his cleats, the gloves on his hands,

the chalk, the bat, the deck. The swing and the miss.

His savior is the men embracing him in the dugout after, 

one game at a time.

[inception30daychallenge]

Inception 30 Day Challenge 2024: Get inspired, share your hot takes and win prizes!

Create a post, whether it be text, art, music, or any other media, using these 31 items as prompts. Feel free to participate in as many or as few of them as you want!

Copy the prompt into the body of the post somewhere and tag your posts with @inception30daychallenge, #inceptiversary, and #inception30daychallenge. Your posts will be reblogged on this blog for everyone to appreciate!

You earn one entry for every prompt you answer before 11:59 PM EDT on July 31. We’ll hold a raffle then to determine our prize winner(s)! More info can be found in our FAQ.

Prompts below the cut, or at this Google Doc link!

Day 01: Your favourite thing about the movie.

Day 02: Classify each character according to the Alignment Chart. (For more details on what each box means)

Day 03: A post-canon headcanon.

Day 04: Arthur’s secret phobia.

Day 05: Your favourite line in the movie.

Day 06: A fic rec!

Day 07: If you had to change a scene from the movie to have a musical number, which scene would it be?

Day 08: What songs/artists are on Eames’ main playlist?

Day 09: Which character has the most annoying habit on the job and what is it?

Day 10: A headcanon about your favourite character.

Day 11: Mal’s favourite fairytale.

Day 12: Your favourite setting in the movie.

Day 13: A fanart rec! (note: please do not repost art from tumblr artists! just reblog it and tag @inception30daychallenge so we can see it.)

Day 14: What skills would you bring to a dreamshare team?

Day 15: Cobb’s greatest parenting strength and weakness.

Day 16: Inception Day! Make anything Inception-related! Take a photo, write a poem, make a meme, sing a tune, whatever you want!

Day 17: How did the team spend the rest of the week on the first dream level?

Day 18: What building or monument does Ariadne wish she designed?

Day 19: Your favourite bit of fanon.

Day 20: Another type of rec! (meta, podfic, fanvid, edit, meme, blog, whatever!)

Day 21: What would you want to use dreamshare technology for?

Day 22: What skill does Robert wish he had?

Day 23: If you had to be stuck on a deserted island with an Inception character, who would you choose?

Day 24: A headcanon about your favourite friendship or relationship.

Day 25: When Saito was a child, what did he want to be when he grew up?

Day 26: Which summer Olympic sport would each character compete in? 

Day 27: A self-rec! (anything from art to a funny Tumblr post you made!)

Day 28: What piece of media would you want to see in a crossover with Inception?

Day 29: Something Yusuf keeps hidden in his desk.

Day 30: If the characters were all in a band, what instruments/roles would they play?

Day 31: A letter to Inception fandom.

[dayslynthesix]

Charles Leclerc x Button!Reader

(this one is just a little content just because i love summer break and i think i failed a little bit to show just how much lis and charlie are in love in the social!au)

Sicily, Italy.

The warming heat of the sun was everywhere. The towels were warming, the floor of the Azzura (the boat) was warming, and the breeze of the Mediterranean sea was also warming. The summer break started less the 48 hours ago and Lis and Charlie were already on board.

Lis has bought that boat last summer, it was the most terrifying thing she could ever do, at least, thats what her dad has told her, but every weekend she was driving around at 320kmh, so driving a boat was supposed to be easy. But Lis wasn't driving the boat, Charles was. Not at that moment, because tuesday middle morning he was laying down side by side with his girlfriend while she was reading one of her books - Normal People, by Sally Rooney was the chosen one for the trip.

They were together for almost two years, they keep it private and low, only his closest friends and her closest friends (Gia, Catherine and Lauren*) knew about it, and they were fine with that. Until, one day, a rumor was spread around the paddock, and everyone started to pay attention on them.

"Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc is allegedly dating RedBull driver and Jenson Button's daughter, Elise Button."

But for him, Elise Button was just Lis, or Fleur de Lis, his girl, his partner, his other half, the only person who fully understand him.

Last summer they spent hidden in some Italy village, Moscazzano was the one, Lis' mom had a summer house there, and once she was a kid she was always there with her family. That summer Charles felt so much love by her family that his heart was overwhelmed with it. He never had the chance or the opportunity to meet Jenson properly, but those 3 weeks he spent there he learned from where most part of Lis personality came from; she was charming, had that amazing sense of humor, smile pretty easily once she feels comfortable, she likes to swim, to lay on the sun, to play volleybal with her friends, to watch Grey's Anatomy and House with her mom and to go take a walk with her dad every sunset.

This summer they spent most of it swimming in the blue sea, while Lis was making them friendship bracelets for the concert they were supposed to go, or writing some poem Charles would never be allowed to read or just laying side by side, holding hands and talking about everything and anything all at once.

Charles and Lis relationship was easy, they could talk or stay at silence, they could talk for hours or just check how each other was, they could just exist into each other space, Lis was as much part to Charles life as he was to her. They knew each other so deep that no one knew how they didn't ended up together sooner.

"Every time i read that Connell wasn't religious but he thought that God made Marianne for him something clicks inside of me." Lis started to say as she closed the now finished book, Charles just hummed to let her know that he was awake, and listening to her "Because I'm not very religious too, but God, life, the universe put you in my life and I think that was genuinely made for me. I love how our life is simple, and how easy it is to be with you, even though we're weren't supposed to be together."

"I think the fact that we drive for rival teams makes things even better, what do you say? We're enemies to lovers?"

"More like rivals to lovers, but just between us, I would let you win just to see you happy." Lis had that, she was just pure empathy, it didn't look like because she was a woman into a mans sport, but she cared, and she would do anything to make Charles happy, including letting him win in Monza, including let him drive her around, including telling him how much she loves him.

"That's not very RedBull of you, honey." he joked

"It's because deep down I'm sort of a Mercedes driver because of my dad." she was laughing freely.

And summer just freeze. In that moment summer felt eternal. Just Elise and Charles, laying on the sun, listening to each other, talking nonsense around the Mediterranean, joking about how Charles wasn't familiar with the sunscreen technology. They just disappeared on those 4 weeks. They went for morning swims, early breakfast, stopping in those small Italian villages, eating pasta and holding each other. They weren't thinking about the championship, fast cars, Ferrari or RedBull. It was just them.

Charles and Elise, enjoying the sweet company of each other.

And going to Taylor Swift concerts.

elisebutton

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, cbishop11*, scuderiaferrari and 765.154 others

elisebutton there are pieces of us booth under of every city light, thank you italy, you were amazing with us, grazie 🇮🇹

charles_leclerc you are my favorite place

jensonbutton look how adorable you are, already missing you ❤

laurencaspari i picture you (my best friend) with other girls (charles leclerc) and throw up on the street (actually i went drinking)

priyacaspari looking forward to see you guys racing in monza in 2 weeks 🤗

scuderiaferrari hey @redbullracing are you seeing this?

redbullracing hey, charles, could you please bring back our driver? thank you

maxverstappen1 hey, charles, could you please give back my emotional support friend? thanks

elisebutton

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, mickschumacher, redbullracing, maxverstappen1 and 976.642 others

elisebutton capture it, remember it. thank you so much @taylorswift, i had the time of my life last night, traded soooo many friendship bracelets and it felt amazing to be surrounded by these amazing people - to the girls who were next to us, thank you for making my night insanely beautiful, we're happy and not lonely. and thank you to my lover, my karma, the one that there's some invisible string tying you to me @charles_leclerc for singing all the songs with me, I'll save you a seat at every table

jesonbutton i just know that daniel and mick were with you, i just know

danielricciardo heidi is suffering from post taylor's concert sadness i think we should do it again, same time in a couple of months back in mexico?

schecoperez if you're going to mexico im coming too

charles_leclerc im karma and im your boyfriend

charlisewdc ELISE OMG IT WAS ME AND MY FRIENDS YOU WERE SO NICE WE LOVE YOU

ccaspari make the friendship bracelets take a moment and taste it you got no reason to be afraid I LOVE YOU LIS MISSED YOU SO MUCH THESE MONTHS

georgerussell63 carmen and i are officially tswift fans from now one, thank you for the invitation

maxverstappen1 wait, am i the only one who wasn't there?

landonorris LMAO i think you don't like solo racing after all

elisebutton i invited you, i invited everyone

authors note: after this small serie ends i fully intend to do another social media au with another driver, probably daniel ricciardo x volleyball!player

[alice-ness]

*holding my hands out aggressively*

GIVE ME THE HEADCANONS

Please I am so content starved it is not even funny, I want the hight school headcanons PLEASE

I love all of them but it I had to chose for only a few I would say gimme Chip and Leaf please

Also I like that one fic u have with Logainne, and Chip, and Leaf, it's really awesome, I'm that one person who commented begging you to please continue the fic and not drop it

K that's it, hope u have a good day byeeeeee

:p

hi!!! tysm for asking here's highschool headcanons for chip and leaf! ((and sorry it took a while) 🙏🙏 ALSO im so glad u like the fic i will try to finish it but it might be a little while #busybee

in this au they all are in similar grades bc i thought abt trying to make it work in canon but it just doesn't rip

chip tolentino

- goes to highschool with marcy, leaf, and marigold

- yes he is incredibly tortured by seeing her all the time lol

- in his freshman year he had a random slump and kind of just did nothing and sulked around all the time (post child boy scout burnout/gifted kid burnout)

- like his grades were... whatever but he didn't talk to anyone and didn't do any extra curriculars

- his parents got tired of him being so suddenly lethargic-teenager so they made him join track

- he's actually really good at it, and eventually (not freshman year but eventually) he's semipopular in an awkward way where people know him but he doesn't TALK to all those people

- does really embarrassing dares with his track teammates. He's not necessarily pressured so much as he gets really into it in the moment LOL

- i put this in the fic but he ran into leaf at a club fair and they hang out now lol

- and leaf hangs out with logainne so he started hanging out with logainne

- and he has some classes with marcy and they were both in a school-rut so they bonded

- wasn't for a while that leaf naturally got the whole spelling bee group hanging out together but that was incredibly weird for chip ... bc... it's kind of weird in general

- especially hanging with barfee but they make up and they're homies (who play argue and play brawl)

- had to do a creative writing unit and discovered he's really good at that too but he's kinda embarrassed about it

- he likes like typical story writing and also nostalgic poems but he's even more embarrassed about that

- he and olive once made eye contact at a creative writing contest he went to without telling anyone and now she wards his secret

- one summer marcy got really into skateboarding and chip tried it out too to be supportive but he ate shit every. Single. time.

- chip learned to drive his junior year and really wanted a sports car but he got a shitty hand me down dad car

- one time marcy called him like "hey can you pick me up" nd he was like "from where" and she's like. "from san francisco?'

- bro how did u even get there

- he does it anyway tho

- they're like besties and they go on a lot of late night snack missions

- if they watch scary movies he will be screaming and crying and she'll be like "oh my god pay attention"

- has a crush on like every single girl he talks to

- sometimes they overlap with logainne's crushes and it's very awkward, especially bc he listens to her disaster lesbian rants at every sleepover

- he grows a really shitty puberty stache he's very proud of and EVERYONE (minus leaf who is unconditionally supportive) BEGS him to shave it

- his dad sits him down like Son. What are you doing.

- ramen and hotpockets diet (if he wanted to cook he'd be good at it tho)

- also this is just me projecting but he's filipino cuz i say so (and my word is law bc it's AAPI month /j)

- 5'5 forever... he constantly prays it'll change

- is really good at dioramas

- goes to school dances to complain in the corner the whole time about the music and the food

- could be misconstrued as mysterious but he's just awkward

- most indecisive person of all time and makes it everyone else's problem

leaf coneybear

- not ALL of his siblings made the switch to public school for high school but some did, including marigold (and pinecone who is older than them)

- it was a hard switch but it doesn't take long to find his crowd bc he's a naturally charismatic person

- his crowd is theater kids. he really loves improv and straight plays, he loves musicals too but he doesn't have great rhythm LOL

- he also LOVES helping make costumes, and in junior/senior year he's on the board

- still likes to make some of his own clothes

- was always tall for his age but had a growth spurt before freshman year and he's like. 6'1 LOL he's a stringbean

- sneaks both his cats and logainne into his school

- yes admin is tired but damn are his cats cute

- logainne is his best friend for literal life they are inseparable and will find any reason to hang out

- kind of an energy drink addict (they're not allowed in his house but he WILL drink too many anywhere else if u don't watch out and then crash and feel sick)

- (sidenote he HAS calmed down some but he can still be distractable and is still rlly high energy. Some days he takes to just completely slow down and veg out tho which is nice) (like pretty much he just won't stomp around and roar or whatever in the middle of sentences like in im not that smart 😭)

- on the complete opposite end of that he's also an organic fruit smoothie addict

- he also loves to bake and he's REALLY good at it but his younger siblings aren't allowed sugar so he will spontaneously get a bunch of ingredients and then show up at his friends' houses late at night to borrow their kitchen

- he tries to "spread the love" by doing this equally at all his friends places

- olive is his #1 baking buddy tho!

- also speaking of siblings he's the best older brother ever and he doesnt really like to be home but he'll spend time with his siblings

- .... his parents just keep havin babies

- anyway he's not as good at cooking bc it bores him so he'll get distracted and let things burn whoops

- tons of sleepovers at logainnes he's like a son to her dads

- gets a giant van to drive all his friends around in, it's decked out

- fixes holes in his friends clothes

- they all have a million friendship bracelets bc he just gets sappy and makes more or forgets he made one

- keeps everything ever given to him

- loves interactive science museums where u get to touch stuff more than ANYYYYTHIIIING. He will get lost in the dino bones

- and loves nature and hikes but mainly to look at bugs

- is the king of poster projects in class

- wasn't allowed to watch horror movies as a kid so logainne showed him some classic his freshman year and he literally couldn't sleep for a week but now he likes them, just mostly the campy stuff

- so stuff like little shop, rocky horror, r his the musicals bc it's cheesy campy horror AND theater!

- also first got social media like freshman/sophomore year and he just posts poorly taken pictures and occasionally answers his friends dms

- junior year on, a good amount of his theater peers develop like silly little crushes on him but he's completely oblivious and chip is just so jealous bc he gets no bitches

- he's the glue of the 25th annual kids bc he sort of just naturally started hanging out w them individually again and was like Oh shit why don't we all just hang out

- he is the only person marcy will cuddle

- (on that note he's the group teddy bear)

[friends-to-lovers-tournament]

Friends to Lovers Tournament: Round 2, Side B, Match 3

propaganda under the cut!

Kenhina:

They're the fluffiest most wholesome ship to ever exist. They're also opposites where Kenma is cat-like, introverted, cool, smart, and Hinata is puppy-like, extroverted, energetic, kind of stupid. It's an opposites attract kind of situation, I guess. Additionally, it is canon that Kenma, who hates exercise, thinks the pain is worth it when he sees Hinata because "Shouyou is interesting". They don't let their friendship get in the way of their sports, and actually challenge each other to make each other better because that's what real friends do. Also, Kenma is extremely shy, but Hinata was the one who got him to open up and enjoy volleyball truly.

Furthermore, Kenma and Hinata have the softest colour palette of yellows and oranges which remind you of summer. They are very wholesome and KenHina ship is the second most popular ship in fandom after KageHina.

In the timeskip, Kenma literally sponsors Hinata and funds his volleyball shenanigans. If that isn't sugar daddy of them I don't know what is. And Hinata promises Kenma to always stay interesting and play volleyball forever. They stayed in touch even after high school and they chat regularly (canon) and that says a lot because most people lose touch but not these two because they are the most precious ship ever and deserve to be appreciated.

Renga:

Submission 1:

bc they gay

Submission 2:

i can go into heavy detail,,, AND I WILL!!!

their ship name is literally a form of poetry (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Renga) and it's a type of poem written by multiple poets SO REKI AND LANGA ARE THE POETS WHO WRITE THEIR OWN POETRY TOGETHER

they got along almost immediately after they met, and they found their reason for living together with each other via skateboarding!!! and they're best friends because they ""get"" each other like nobody else does!!! LIKE THE BEST KIND OF LOVE IS THE ONE WHERE YOU'RE BEST FRIENDS WITH EACH OTHER!!!

langa literally says ""there's no meaning to skating if i can't do it with you"" to reki AND IF THAT ISN'T THE SWEETEST THING EVER!!! and reki literally studies langa's way of skating to design a skateboard that fits perfectly to his snowboarder style AND HE GETS SO EXCITED TO SHOW LANGA IT!!!

they have their own fist bump that forms an infinity symbol which means that their love lasts forever and it's the loviest of lovey doves ur honor <3

they literally have a blue (langa) x red (reki) aesthetic WHICH IS OPPOSITES ATTRACT!!! they're also the cool guy x ray of sunshine,,, cat energy x dog energy tropes. also the ""rambles for hours"" x ""listens happily"" trope.

THEY WAKE UP AT ASS O' CLOCK IN THE MORNING JUST TO SEE EACH OTHER BEFORE SCHOOL AND SKATE TOGETHER AND THEY SNEAK OUT OF THEIR HOUSES TO STAY OUT LATE INTO THE NIGHT AND SPEND MORE TIME WITH EACH OTHER!!!! WHAT KIND OF TEENAGERS SACRIFICE THEIR SLEEP TIME IF NOT FOR THE ONE THEY LOVE??

anyways yeah. renga. beautiful bois who deserve to be together and were made as canon as could get past the censors."

[rwrbficrecs]

Do you know any long fics

Hi, sorry this took a while! Hope you enjoy these ❤️ A Long Way From the Playground by @three-drink-amy A Sporting Chance by @clottedcreamfudge all that glitters (is not gold) by @indomitable-love Never Did Run Smooth by @clottedcreamfudge Omakase by @orchidscript (our last summer) memories that remain by bleedingballroomfloor roses, wisteria, and royal bluebells by @coffeecatsme Screw Your Courage to the Sticking Place (and forget macbeth is a fucking tragedy) by @celaestis1 Speak for Yourself by @welcometololaland Such a Burden, This Flame on My Chest by @three-drink-amy the poem you make of me by @omgcmere What Do I Know? by @three-drink-amy Huge thanks to my lovely new team of volunteers for collecting these ❤️ If you’d like to help out too, check out the Volunteers Page 🥰

[foxes-that-run]

Getaway Car

The song is about Taylor using an affair to get away from a bad relationship. Before Midnight's High Infidelity dated the events as prior to the 2016 Met Gala and before the 1989 TV Vault had lyrical similarities it was widely accepted as about the PR relationship with Tom Hiddleston. Poor Tom was rather surprised, considering they dated for a few weeks, it was after Taylor and Calvin split up and more than a year before Reputation came out. (BTW this is a 1971 Jaguar e-type, a classic British sports car, Harry the same car in red)

Getaway Car is written to the muse who Taylor had an affair with, someone who is surprised and she is sorry for hurting. For context, her relationship with Calvin and his behaviour can safely be called problematic (x, x, x, x, x, x and x). CH really 'Got out some popcorn / As soon as her rep starting going down, down, down'. Her mental state:

Getaway Car is a pithy and fun but honest about poor choices. Although a year later it's closer to 29 April, 2016, with more hindsight Taylor was warmer towards to the 'other man' in High Infidelity on Midnights:

Do you really want to know where I was April 29th? Do I really have to chart the constellations in his eyes? [and] Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?

Taylor also describes Reputation as a love story, many songs on which are about Harry, as are those on Lover which also express regret. I think the alleged affair would have been motivated from getting out of a situation which was not good for Taylor, however as we know from Harry's Debut it really hurt him. Lover and Folklore express a lot of regret, and I think they have both moved on.

Making of Video

Jack's shirt about publicity (also worn in This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things making of)

Taylor saying "Like a Dylany kinda thing", hmm...

wearing the evil eye and angel rings

And Taylor's longer, curly, darker coloured hair. To me, this looks like her hair in May and June 2017. Getaway Car was (at least in part) written and recorded in 2017. I think this adds to a song with more storytelling that diary writing, I think Taylor was quite affected by trying to get out of the relationship with Calvin, one she's sung about little and never warmly.

You can read Jack's comments about the video. It's interesting Jack commented on why it was being recorded, it seems Taylor did that a lot in the Rep era, and TBH it seems good practice to prevent any copyright claims, she also talks to the camera to note the lyric.

Live Performances

Getaway car was the first song in the Reputation Encore, it followed the Why She Disappeared poem. The tour visuals were reminiscent of I Knew You Were Trouble, the Reputation stage is an X and shot to showcase that here. The motel is called "Last time motel" which is reminiscent of The Last Time. It ends on Taylor getting into a black vintage convertible reminiscent of Blank Space.

It was an Era's surprise song 27 May 2023, Jack Antonoff joined Taylor on stage and added a nice sarcastic "oh yeah, we're both sorry." The last time Taylor was seen with MH was the 18th May, the break up was reported 5 June 2023.

Lyrics

No, nothin' good starts in a getaway car It was the best of times, the worst of crimes I struck a match and blew your mind But I didn't mean it, and you didn't see it

'It was the best of times, the worst of crimes' is a reference to Charles Dickens A Tale of Two Cities. The cities being Paris and London. This quote is in a passage that describes Taylors 2016 quite well: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, [...] it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair” It reminds me of "This Summer is the Apocalypse".

'Worst of Crimes' is similar to Where do broken hearts go "All the rest of my crimes don't come close"

"Struck match and blew your mind" is similar to "Strike a match, then you blow it out" in Say don't go. and Right Where You Left Me: "Matches burn after the other"

The ties were black, the lies were white In shades of gray in candlelight I wanted to leave him, I needed a reason

"Ties were black, likes were white" appears to point to the Met Gala, and I do think that is the intention of the line (and relationship) Taylor also was at the Black-tie Vanity Fair Oscar Party in LA on 28 February 2016, the day Harry tweeted (in LA) an Elvis Stuck on You Lyric "You can shake an apple off an apple tree." Harry was not at the Vanity Fair party, however he also has leaks from this era that refer to picking his muse up and driving them home. I did something bad and Sweet Creature have more on that time.

The shades were grey is similar to 50 Shades of Grey, which Taylor wrote I don't wanna live forever for about Harry. Candles are also in New Years Day "Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor" and Hunger "Candles burnt down to the floor"

"X" marks the spot where we fell apart He poisoned the well, I was lyin' to myself I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed We never had a shotgun shot in the dark (oh!)

'X Marks the Spot where we fell apart' is line from Hilary Duff Breathe in. Breathe Out which Taylor said she liked in an Tumblr post 25 June 2015 and used the melody of in Paper Rings and title in Labyrinth. It's a song and line that is sad about the relationship not working out with someone untruthful. In the 2015 timeline the timing of this post is a little interesting.

'Poisoning the well' is meaning Calvin ruined the chance of this affair by discrediting or ridiculing it, with the diss track Ole.

An Old Fashioned is whiskey, also in Gorgeous "Whiskey on Ice, Sunset and Vine, you’ve ruined my life by not being mine"

Never had a shotgun shot in the dark is similar to Say Don't Go: "I've known it from the very start / We're a shot in the darkest dark"

You were drivin' the getaway car We were flyin', but we'd never get far

Driving is a Haylor theme.

Flying is a Haylor theme.

Don't pretend it's such a mystery Think about the place where you first met me Ridin' in a getaway car There were sirens in the beat of your heart Should've known I'd be the first to leave Think about the place where you first met me In a getaway car, oh-oh-oh No, they never get far, oh-oh-ah No, nothin' good starts in a getaway car

The line "think about the place where you first met me" is also often referred to in reference to Taylor meeting Tom Hiddleston at the Met, which again I think is with intention. Though there is not a particular reason to think someone at the Met Gala would do this.

It's also generally assumed Harry and Taylor met at the Kids Choice Awards in 2012, however neither has confirmed this, and it is simply the first time they were seen together by fans. As 2011 timeline outlines it seems Harry and Taylor were already connected then. These lyrics indicates their first meeting was brief (Holy Ground), she was not over Jake (Begin Again) and she was not looking for love (Suburban Legend):

Holy Ground - Back to a first glance feeling on New York time

Begin Again - Took a deep breath in the mirror / He didn't like it when I wore high heels / But I do

Suburban Legends - I didn't come here to make friends / We were born to be suburban legends

It was the great escape, the prison break The light of freedom on my face But you weren't thinkin' and I was just drinkin' While he was runnin' after us, I was screamin', "Go, go, go!" But with three of us, honey, it's a sideshow And a circus ain't a love story, and now we're both sorry (we're both sorry)

..Ready for it? "And he can be my jailer, Burton to this Taylor" and in Afterglow "Put you in jail for something you didn't do"

The only other Circus Lyric is Mirrorball: And they called of the circus, burned the disco down, but they use visuals (below)

CH and TS were over by the Met Gala with the official Break up announced 1 June, 2016, Taylor wasn't even seen with TH till the 14th June, 2016 - there was no running after and the Circus was Taylor and Tom's PR relationship.

However Calvin, Harry and Taylor, was a public sideshow:

That started in 2015 with the BBMA's in May 2015

Calvin's Twitter fight with One Direction on Twitter in August 2015

Writing Ole in February 2016

Taylor and CH starting a public fight over This is What you Came for in July 2016.

Harry and Taylor have used circus imagery the Red Tour, which the hat for is also in the End Game Video and Harry's Daylight video is (french) Circus Themed and there is a carnival in the Willow MV.

"X" marks the spot where we fell apart He poisoned the well, every man for himself I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed It hit you like a shotgun shot to the heart (oh!)

This second chorus changes shot in the dark to shot in the heart. :(

We were jet-set, Bonnie and Clyde (oh-oh) Until I switched to the other side, to the other side It's no surprise I turned you in (oh-oh) 'Cause us traitors never win I'm in a getaway car I left you in a motel bar Put the money in a bag and I stole the keys That was the last time you ever saw me (oh!)

In Ready for it Taylor likened her and her muse to 'Burton and Taylor', here she's used another famous couple 'Bonnie and Clyde' Taylor and Harry have used outlaw metaphors (list below).

'Switched to the other side', is going back to the other person in the three person sideshow. I think this is going to the Bahamas with Calvin only 2 weeks after the VF Oscar party/apple tweet.

Is it over now? "You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor"

Cruel Summer "Hang your head low In the glow of the vending machine"

...... FTDT "Woke up alone in this hotel room"

Outlaw Metaphors:

Stand up (1D) - I won't be leavin' till I've finished stealin' / Every piece of your heart' and 'I'm a thief, I'm a thief (Call me a thief) / I'm a thief, I'm a thief (But you should know your part) / I'm a thief, I'm a thief (I'm only here) / I'm a thief, I'm a thief ('Cause you stole my heart)

Stockholm Syndrome (HS) - Who's that shadow holding me hostage?

Ready for it (TS) - Knew I was a robber first time that he saw me / Stealing hearts and running off and never saying sorry / But if I'm a thief, then he can join the heist

Cowboy like me (TS) I've got some tricks up my sleeve / Takes one to know one You're a cowboy like me

MMIH (HS) - I walked the streets all day / Running with the thieves

Daylight (TS) - Maybe you ran with the wolves and refused to settle down

I was ridin' in a getaway car I was cryin' in a getaway car I was dyin' in a getaway car Said goodbye in a getaway car Ridin' in a getaway car I was cryin' in a getaway car I was dyin' in a getaway car Said goodbye in a getaway car

This outtro is similar to lyrics on Lover, so much @cntfightmydemonsthyknowhowtoswim and I wonder if parts of Lover and Reputation are the same events.

Cruel Summer: I'm not dying / You say that we'll just screw it up in these trying times / We're not trying

Cruel Summer: I'm drunk in the back of the car and I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh), and

Death By A Thousand Cuts: Saying “Goodbye” is death by a thousand cuts

[helsaweekmasterlist]

Calling ALL Helsa shippers!!!

@helsadiscord proudly presents Helsa Week 2023. The annual event to celebrate Helsa is coming this summer.

Save the dates! From 7 - 13 August 2023, we invite you to celebrate and appreciate Helsa in any form of fan creations. For every 2 days, there are a one-word prompt and one AU prompt that can be used interchangeably (or even combined!). We are looking forward to see your submissions! 😊

EVENTS

DAY 1 - 2 (7 - 8 August). INTERTWINED / MYTHS AU.

“Intertwined, like two boats tied together at the docks or the hands that are joined in camaraderie.” / Folklore, a retelling of the stories of the Gods and Goddesses (Norse, Greek, Celtic).

DAY 3 - 4 (9 - 10 August). MEMORIES / SPORTS AU.

“Memories - the good and the bad, treasured or forgotten - may have a way of returning.” / Olympic Games, Professional Athletes, E-Sports Tournaments.

DAY 5 - 6 (11 - 12 August). ENCHANTED / HISTORICAL AU.

“Enchanted, almost like a deer in the headlights; bewitched, as if a spell is befallen upon you.” / Medieval, Regency, Victorian, Vikings, American Old West.

DAY 7 (13 August). FREE.

Free space for your creativity! Let your imagination shine, do whatever your heart desires!

⎯⎯ ⎯⎯ ⎯⎯ ⎯⎯ ⎯⎯

When posting your work, please:

1. @helsaweekmasterlist​

2. Tag #Helsa Week 2023, #HelsaWeek2023 and #HelsaWeek along with other appropriate tagging (fandom, characters, ship, spoilers, NSFW and content warnings).

Don’t be afraid to be creative, let inspiration flow! Create fanfiction, fanart, comics, edits, mood boards, headcanons, poems, essays, cosplay, meme, anything you fancy! If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask!

♥Have fun and Happy Helsa Week!♥

[mostlyinthemorning]

Noahvember Day 17

Don't forget to vote in the poll at the end of this post.

Who wants to go on a road trip? At least 33% of you want to feel that wheel in your hand.

Noah recreated his American Roads road trip this summer (photos by Ian Lake):

Noah had this to say about one of his American Roads experiences:

Fics about cars? Obviously:

nothing safe is worth the drive by wardo_wedidit

Warm Cars, Cool Air by @doublel27

everything in transit by foxtails / @ratchet

Today's choices: