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#why nobody told me about pastel week?
buckrogers2491 · 2 years
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Watching respectfully…
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brandiph0 · 6 months
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My oc videos game obsession
Part 1: among us 🌌🛸
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Astronaut: ahhh!!! Help!!
August ( possessed) nobody can save you now hahaha
Lemi: heh this is better in the game ok I know that didn’t happen in the game but let’s just say that the astronaut didn’t show up because of the..accident but let’s move on
* 7 months ago *
Me: August what is your favorite that you’re obsessed with?
August: Among us I been playing for a while ever since last year I couldn’t even get some sleep because I couldn’t stop beating this game but I kept watching comics, drawing about it and my favorite part was …. Playing with those little astronauts
Me: you play with the little astronauts?
August: yeah I mostly babysit them make sure they don’t hurt each other
Me: why is that?
August: because there adorable and cute 🥰
Me:….ok
Kaiyana: me and Lemi visited at her house the other day and we just saw 3 little astronauts .
Me: What color are they?
Lemi: it was white, blue and pastel purple. I called it pale I wish purple sibling was in the game
Kaiyana: I’m worried about august she hasn’t been calling us all day because of the baby sitting job
Lemi: yeah that white one is getting a little suspicious at that moment
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* pale and blue cuddles *
White : “ running fast “
August: hey! No running in the house sorry it act like a puppy all the time
Lemi: oh…
Kaiyana: that’s fine
Lemi: do you have bathroom because I been eating all day
Kaiyana: me too
August: yeah is down the hall
Both: thanks
Kaiyana: ok this is going way too far they need to go
Lemi: you know we can’t do that because if August sees we taking them she’ll probably go imposter on us
Kaiyana: what
Lemi: like you know in the game when the imposter gets close and attacks you .
Kaiyana: oh how are we supposed to get the astronauts away from her ?
Lemi: I used this antidote to put her sleep while you get little astronauts while I watch August taking her long nap
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Kaiyana: that’s a good idea
Me: did the plan work out for you two?
Kaiyana and Lemi: yep
Lemi: until she wakes up trying to attack us and finds out we’re talking them home
Kaiyana: but then pale, blue and white stopped her and began to show her the drawing of us
Lemi: is looks pretty amazing
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August: I just realized that I got a little carried away a little bit haha they gave us a crew hug and I just told them take care and I’ll see you soon
Me: And what did you learn this week?
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August: your friends are important and always stick together even if you’re stuck in the game no matter what they always gonna be by your side
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charmed-henry · 2 years
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Thirty Pieces of Silver | Self
Date: 18 April 2022 Warnings: Some religious references Henry visits home and contends with some consequences of what he told Jacqueline in March.
Henry had known the question was coming. It was why he had tried to blow off his family’s Easter plans in the politest way possible, informing them that he was volunteering at a community Easter egg hunt. They had, in turn, rescheduled Easter lunch to Easter dinner. And now here Henry was, in a kaleidoscopically pastel Vineyard Vines dress shirt, whispering with Jacqueline on the back porch as they sipped their white wine.
“You’re telling him tonight, right?”
Henry sighed. He knew it was the right thing to do. He had told Jacqueline he would do it. And yet, something held him back. 
It was silly, he knew it was silly, but there was a small voice in the back of Henry’s head calling him a traitor. Eric had entrusted him with a secret. He was going to tell it to people who could use it against him. And no matter how many times he told himself that the Easter story had very little to do with this situation, the voice of the reader this past week talking about betrayal and thirty pieces of silver seemed to echo in his mind. 
Henry’s rational mind knew he was projecting. Searching for reasons to take the coward’s way out. This was the right thing to do, telling his father about Eric. And yet, his emotional mind simply couldn’t shake that feeling.
“I… need to find the right time,” Henry said, bowing his head almost as though in shame. Jacq frowned.
“What is the right time? You’ve been saying you wanted to do it in person. Here’s your chance. This reflects on me, too, you know that, Henry? If it comes out that I covered for you while you kept valuable secrets from the Order—”
“I know, Jacq!” Henry exclaimed with a force he didn’t know he had in him.
Jacq stared at him, taken aback. Then, her expression softened.
“What is it, Henry?” she asked in the gentle sort of voice that reminded Henry of when he would come home from training, hiding in his room as he cried about whatever cruel prank the other boys had played on him.
Those days were long over. There was nobody to be afraid of. Certainly not Henry’s father. Certainly not the Order.
(Henry’s bi-nightly dreams may beg to differ).
He looked at Jacqueline for a long time, the fear showing in his eyes. And then, finally, he whispered, “They’re not going to do anything to him, are they?”
“Henry…” Jacqueline hesitated. “No. They’re going to be happy when he returns. Like the parable of the prodigal son.” She summoned a smile that Henry didn’t quite believe.
“Well, I don’t quite know that he’s going to…”
“Henry.” Jacqueline smiled in a way that was just a bit too forceful to be sincere. Almost like she was trying to make herself believe it, too. “Once they talk to him, the kings, he’ll see reason.”
“But Jacq, I tried so many times, and he didn’t listen to me,” Henry pleaded pathetically.
“I know. And that was very brave of you. But it’s time to let the grown-ups handle this, okay?”
The way she spoke, the way she looked at him, made Henry feel like a child all over again. And… right now, when everything felt so confusing, it was kind of nice to feel like a child again. Jacqueline was right. Henry needed to listen to her. She was the older sister. 
Henry took a deep breath. “Alright. I will tell him,” Henry finally said. “I promise. Just… not tonight. It’s Easter. Let’s enjoy it, alright? We don’t get to see Gus that often, and I don’t want to cut the night short.” He forced himself to smile, too, and the way it didn’t quite meet his eyes matched with his sister.
Jacq sighed. “Alright. Good point,” she conceded. “But soon, alright? This thing is eating me. I hate secrets.”
Henry nodded in assent. “Soon. I promise.”
And with that, Jacqueline hugged Henry, one of her famous hugs that was supposed to fix everything. And it did. Well, almost.
It couldn’t quite quash the voice in the back of his head.
Traitor.
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omiscurls · 3 years
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I love your writing and how much you’re able to bring out the true personalities of each character!! I was wondering if you could do Kaeya, Xiao, Diluc, Zhongli, and Childe celebrating y/n’s bday. (My birthday was a couple of days ago but I didn’t receive any greetings from my genshin team for some reason... 😔)
happy birthday
a/n: SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! as for your problem, have you tried looking in character>voiceover>voicelines? the wishes should appear there, i dont know what happened if they don't
plot: celebrating the reader's birthday
contains: kaeya, diluc, tartaglia, xiao, zhongli
warnings: brief mentions of alcohol, otherwise pure fluff
kaeya
a surprise party
to be completely honest, kaeya barely cares about his own birthday enough to even remember the date
and obviously he does remember yours, how could he not, but- he's just not used to celebrating, you know?
so watch him know very well your birthday is coming up, with a mindset like: "okay, you've got time, you'll figure something great out, it's gonna be amazing"
and the day or two before he realizes, he indeed wants to do something great and amazing, but he completely ran out of time
fortunately, who cares about reservations when your brother's a bar owner, right?
he figures out that if he waits till sunset with the party he still has an entire day he can spend of preparing everything he needs
so as you sleep peacefully, he sneaks out of the room at the break of dawn, ready to work his ass off
he doesn't want you feeling bad, after all, right?
the thing is, you do start to feel a bit bad, as an entire morning goes by, and not only is kaeya nowhere in sight, literally nobody is! you walk through the streets of mondstadt, looking for any familiar face to spend the time with, but the city seems awfully empty of your friends. you end up having fun at diona's cat's tail, her complaining about everyone, and you, surprisingly, joining in, but it still doesn't replace the companion of your friends.
you go over your day as per usual, and decide to bake yourself a cake, since you think that'll cheer you up. you run out of flour, though, so it's necessary to go over to the store and stock up on some. right as you cross the city's main square, you run into diluc.
"oh, sorry, haven't seen you" you say, not even lifting up your face to look at who's chest did you bump on, until he grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
"someone looks dejected" he says, and you almost want to punch him for not realizing why. instead of doing that, however pleasing it sounds, you just shrug your shoulders. "come on, you look like you could use a special drink of mine"
and with that, he pulls you towards angel's share, letting you complain about your day, though you don't explicitly say it's your birthday, still mad he didn't remember that on his own.
"so he completely ditched you without a word?" he acts surprised and offended "that's so awful-" he continues, opening the door before you.
just as he opens it, and you hear the word "awful" you see the bar as if for the first time. flowery garlands are up beneath the ceiling, the tables are arranged differently and covered with colorful, pastel table cloths, music is playing. the backdoor is opened and you see the outside of the building decorated in a similar manner, candles and fairy lights spread all over the place.
the sun is slowly setting over the buildings visible through the back door, and the atmosphere inside borders on magical, but to top that all off-
"happy birthday!" you hear a lot of voices shout, and your eyes widen at the sight of all those who you hold dear present. you can't help but smile, seeing all of them cheer, grinning from ear to ear.
"i-" you look over at diluc "how'd you pull this off?"
you swear you saw him crack a soft smile before admitting that he in fact, didn't. you're about to ask who did, then, but you're interrupted by a silvery voice, coming from behind you.
"i did" the voice says, a hand moving to cover your eyes "wanna guess who?" you hear a whisper inches away from your ear, shaking from surprise.
affection swells in your chest as you quietly say "kaeya", your smile growing fondler, knowing that aside from all your friends, he's here too, and as a mastermind, at that.
"hope you don't hold leaving you by yourself for a couple of hours against me" he continues, arms sneaking around your waist, chin rested on your shoulder "d'ya like it?"
emotion gets the better of you, and you don't know what to say, so choose only to nod eagerly.
"a lot" you finally whisper, much to kaeya's satisfaction.
"happy birthday, then" he says, suddenly pulling away from you, as to exclaim loudly "attention everyone!!" he takes a fork to ring on his glass "i hereby declare, that the next round's on me!"
cheers fill the room, along with one "yea right" and another "like we'd believe that" before the owner of the bar speaks up as well.
"as much as i'd like to see that" diluc settles "today's drinks are on the house."
diluc
a magical evening
so he’s a fan of planning
not a diehard fan, but a fan nonetheless 
it’s just, he would rather have things planned ahead than wake up a day before and not know what to do (like a kaeya) like an idiot.
so you bet he has already calculated how much time he has left the moment you told him the date of your birthday.
unlike kaeya, he prefers to be working alone, but also likes to keep his plans a surprise. he himself hates surprises, but has to admit, doing one for someone else is quite the fun 
he stays quiet about your birthday coming up until the very last moment, and if you want to ask him if he wants to do anything with you that day, he says he already has something in mind, you know, nonchalantly. as if he hadn’t been thinking about it for archons know how long 
he’ll wake up before you just to wish you a happy birthday the moment you wake up, and he might be unusually affectionate for a bit, but don’t even bother asking what he has planned out - he won’t tell, not even if you beg. 
diluc wanted to kick you out of the house all day. “oh, there’s shopping to be done” “oh, this lady wanted to talk to you”, or “you know, come to think of it, didn’t jean say she had something she’d wanted to show you for your birthday?” every lame excuse in the book, he has used it. 
you decide to finally grant him what he so obviously wanted, and leave, choosing to walk all around the city, and even outside the gates, you make it quite a trip, not knowing when to come back. 
you smile upon thinking about how secretive he tried to be, but how even he, the mighty descendant of one of the noble families of mondstadt, a man as collected and stoic as can be, couldn’t contain his excitement. you saw all his little side smiles and the way he bit his lip a little after settling today’s rough plans with you, he was so happy, you’re satisfied just by seeing that, sometimes forgetting the real reason for why he was actively plotting something. 
you walk and walk, and then walk some more, but your legs start to hurt, and you’re growing hungry, so you decide to finally get back home. 
when you approach the winery, you can see the lights in the ballroom are lit up from a mile away. your heart can’t help but flip with excitement, since diluc hates using the room, hates throwing parties, and would much rather just forget it exists. 
it’s a beautiful venue though, looks like something out of a fairytale, and you always tell him how much you love it. it’s no surprised he decided to use it, but you can’t wait to see it anyway. 
as you get closer to the building, it becomes more and more apparent that the ballroom isn’t the only place that got upgraded to a five star level for one night and one night only. the building looks amazing, and the gates are open all the way, as if there was a party to be thrown and guests to arrive any time soon. 
but as you’re welcomed into the mansion, there’s no one else in the hall, other than a dressed up diluc, his hair in a high pony, just how you always said you liked it, wearing a suit you hadn’t seen on him since... well, you don’t even recall. 
“well, if it isn’t my honorary guest” he announces with an official tone, almost making you a bit flustered. 
“what’s all this? am i not, i don’t know, underdressed?” you giggle nervously, and he approaches you, a tiny little black box in his hand. 
“you could wear a potato sack and shine brighter than all the stars together” he says softly, showing you the little box. “and as tradition orders, happy birthday.”
you carefully open the box, a simple, silver necklace resting on the little cushion inside. you take it out, and watch the ornament, but can’t for the life of you figure out what it is. 
“you see” diluc provides an explanation “it’s a common thing to do to gift someone jewellery as a gift, and almost as common to have necklaces with your star constellation. that is, the allignment the stars were in the moment you were born. but i decided, that i wanted to give you one with the alignment that shone on the sky on the happiest day of my life. well, according to mona it did.” 
you stay silent for a second, astonished with the present, before asking 
“and that is?”
“the day we met.”
tartaglia
how to surprise your lover 101
when i tell you this boy knew EXACTLY WHAT HE WAS DOING from the moment he first thought of it
now. he loves celebrating, anything, really, the atmosphere of a party is almost magnetic to him
he grew up thinking every person deserves to have an amazing day once a year, only about themselves, so it’s very obvious to him that he IS doing something, and it needs to be huge
now, in a family as big as his, it was hard to keep things a secret, so he developed a whole plan on how to avoid having you finding out what he was planning
and that is: by having you know
it’s really getting annoying, how everybody keeps walking up to you, for a good week now, and asking if you’re excited for the big party childe’s throwing. the first time you hear it, you almost immediately run to confront him about it, since you explicitly said that a party, a big one, at that, is the last thing you want.
he obviously says that it’s nothing, and you needn’t worry about that. not that you trust his words, obviously, but you let it go, partly because you know how attached he is to the idea of a huge celebration, and partly because arguing with someone as stubborn can really be tiring.
so you settle, and fake a smile for every conversation with the alleged “guests” for your alleged party, thinking you’ll just suffer through it and then just do something with your childe the next day, having yourself plan it.
the wait is stressful, and when you finally see tartaglia walk through your bedroom door, dressed up really nicely, with a soft ribbon to tie on your eyes, so you wouldn’t see anything before it’s “time”, you almost want to ditch him, but that would be too rude.
complying begrudgingly, you let him guide you through the city, feeling the cold evening air hit your skin, wondering where did he set up this party of his, since you don’t hear anything.
oh god, is everyone gonna jump out of hiding yelling “happy birthday”? please, not that, at least not that.
when he finally unties the material covering your eyes, you see nothing but a wooden platform at the end of the harbor, with a blanket set up, some really nice-smelling food and what appears to be champagne laying on it. the sun is setting slowly behind the mountains in the distance, the only sound you hear being waves crushing on the rocks.
you can’t help but gasp.
“but” you turn around to face childe with a questioning look “what about the party?”
“what party?” he looks surprised “i never said anything about any party” he adds with a knowing smirk.
as you analyze your surroundings, he watches you with a soft smile.
“come on, don’t be so shocked now” he finally says “i know you better than to plan you something you’d hate. i’m not THAT much of an asshole”
his giggle sounds almost too good in the beautiful scenery around you, and you can’t help but let your eyes water for a little while, before rapidly blinking the tears back.
“is this more similar to what you’ve dreamed of?” he asks.
“yeah” you whisper “yes, it is”
“well, that’s the only thing that matters. shall we?” his hand points to the blanket, and you nod, smiling.
this may or may not be inspired by that one episode of Brooklyn 9-9
xiao
trying something new
birthdays? what’s that
you mean to tell him he has lived two thousand years of his life without realizing the day it was brought to him should be celebrated?
yup, no, you can explain it all you want, he still doesn’t get the idea. he just finds it to be way too trivial, okay?
what gets to him, though, is that there’s a custom of doing something meaningful for the person celebrating their birthday, to make them feel important
well, you should’ve led with that, that he can do!
he would never just go and straight up ask for help if he needed any. so don’t be surprised if you hear yet more new stories about the yaksha that allegedly lives near wangshu inn sneaking into the kitchen, or watching through the glass.
he spends HOURS waiting for the chef to finally prepare the dish he hopes for, and once he does, he follows every step very carefully. and then again. and again. and one more time, up until he feels he can do it himself.
when he finally gets to enter said kitchen, it’s already way past midnight, and everything is dark, barely visible. he manages to find his way around, though, preparing all the ingredients, and starting to mix them the same way the chef did.
turns out it’s not as easy as it looks, for example, he didn’t measure how long this thing is supposed to be cooked, or on what temperature, so the process gets a little messy at one point. he might even have to start over. like, twice, tops.
it’s already nearing dusk when he finishes, taking the fruit of his works with him.
as per usual, you wait for him on the roof, and as per usual you don’t realize he’s right behind you until he speaks up.
“happy birthday” he says out of the blue, causing you to jump up in shock.
“oh my, xiao, you scared me! again!” you laugh.
“it’s today, isn’t it?” he continues, as if he didn’t hear you. when he sees you nod, he awkwardly shows you the package he held behind his back, watching closely as you open it with a questioning look.
inside, there’s a carefully wrapped serving of almond tofu, it could use a little bit of touch ups, but it still looks and smells delicious nonetheless.
“did you do this yourself?” you turn around to face him, smiling in disbelief
“mhm” he gets a little flustered, and decides not to tell you about his little kitchen adventure. “is it… is it good?” he asks, and you smile even more fondly.
“why don’t you come over here and taste it with me?”
zhongli
one can never go wrong with a classic
zhongli knows every single tradition there is to know.
literally.
so you don’t have to even tell him anything - he knows. he might not know what to do with his knowledge, but he does know what would make you happy
this man is a gentleman who believes that some moves to make someone swoon never get old
he even got a free day from work just for the occasion, or he may just think he told hu tao that he wants it? either way, he’s not there. not like his boss isn’t used to it.
right as the clock strikes 5 pm, you hear a knocking on your door. checking how you look one last time, you smile to the reflection in the mirror, and walk over to answer.
as you open said door, you find yourself dumbfounded at the sight of a completely soaked zhongli, rain pouring heavily behind his back. his hair sticks to his face, and all the layers of his suit seem drenched to their very core, but a smile you see so rarely paints his face, as he presents you with a bouquet of flowers.
and my oh my, just how huge is it! he barely even manages to hold it in hand, and the flower crowns hide his entire chest and half his face when he places them in front of you.
“i believe this is for you” he says gently “are you ready to go?”
you can’t even find the right words, as you size the bouquet up, taking it from him with a quiet “thank you so much” before taking it back to the house, already in search of the right vase to put them in.
“may i come in and dry myself up a bit?” he asks, still from the doorstep, and you laugh before granting him the permission.
when the both of you are ready to go, you meet in the hallway, both smiling softly at the other, a bit awkwardly, as the beginning of every meeting is.
“you look even better than usually” he finally says, pride rising in his chest at how your grin widens.
“same goes for you, mr zhongli” you answer just as cheekily, waiting for what he’s gonna say next.
“well, thank you, but i don’t think today’s about me now, is it?” he counters with a bit of a side eye. “shall we go?” he points to the open door, and the both of you leave, you grabbing his arm to fit under one umbrella.
“may i ask where’re we going?”
you can’t miss the way his smile turns prideful and confident as he says:
“i” he accentuates “am taking you out to dinner”
he might feel a bit offended by how sarcastically you gasp at the revelation, but it’s okay. as long as he gets to see you laugh, it’s okay.
daily reminder that requests are open [here]
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sailorhyunjinz · 3 years
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~ Stray kids reaction to finding a vibrator in your bag ~
Warnings; fem!reader, istg this is all over the place?!, established relationships, college!au, friendships, nicknames (ok only baby but still), masturbation, use of sex toys, uhm...exhibitionism?, just read it and find out~
Requested: Yeeet thank u anon~~ ;) 
Note: everything about this gif is adorable like look at minho 🥺 and how easy hyunjin falls from changbin pushing him? like changbin got them guns 😩
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Bangchan
Your boyfriend chan didn’t need to know about everything...right? With that thought in mind you bought a pink bullet vibrator because why not pleasure yourself in a different way when he’s gone? A couple of days passed and you accidently forgot that you had bought it in the first place let alone taken it out of your bag. It was a usual day in your shared apartment. You were cooking some lunch for the both of you and he always liked seeing you cook for him so he admired the sight before giving you a backhug. You turned your head around to give him a quick peck on the lips but laughed a bit when his dry lips hit yours. 
“Chan baby, go apply some chapstick” you said while laughing. A bit embarrassed he asked you where you held the chapstick to which you responded “in my bag”.
After rummaging through your purse he found it but he saw something in a bright pink colored box. You didn’t notice how he looked at you, box in hand, before he cleared his throat loudly which made you snap your head towards him. 
“And apparently where you keep sex toys as well” looking at the box for one second and at your blushing face the other. 
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Minho 
Minho was anti-sex toys because he always wanted to prove how hard he could make you cum without the help of any lousy vibrator but you being the brat you didn’t listen and bought a vibrator hoping to use it when he’s away. The best thing was that he was quite often out of the house, attending meetings and other work related tasks so when he announced that he had a meeting Thursday morning you immedietly put your plan to the test. You gave him a quick peck on the lips and the door shut, leaving you alone. 
The toy was intense. You were on cloud nine as you close to your release, holding on to the pastel colored vibrator for dear life but just as you were about to finish you heard a rastle coming from the door. Before you knew it Minho busted into the room. Not given enough time to cover up he walked into the room, seeing you spread out on the bed with a vibrator stuffed deep inside of you. 
“y/n! I forgot-...” his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek while his lips contorted into a smirk. 
“CAN’T YOU KNOCK?” you raised your voice whilst trying to cover up with the nearest bit of fabric in sight. 
“Seems like you’ve chosen a toy over me, have fun since you won’t be fucking me anytime soon” he laughed as he walked out the room. 
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Changbin
“Y/N! HAVE YOU SEEN MY NECKLACE?” he yelled across the house searching frantically in every corner. 
“NO STOP ASKING ME” you yelled back getting annoyed at him huffing and stomping around you, flipping every drawer over. 
He stomped back to the hallway and once again started to look everywhere, creating a boisterous mess. 
“I CANT FIND IT!” he yelled before a loud crash was heard and then silence. You were busy getting ready and when the noise finally stopped you could continue getting ready in peace. But the silence was oddly long which made you think that Changbin had broken something and was trying to hide it because that had happened too many times. 
“BABY DID YOU FIND IT?” you yelled while putting on your eyeshadow. 
You heard his footsteps get closer to you and as he entered the bathroom you were standing in he looked at the vibrator. 
“No, but I found something better in your bag” he said with one eyebrow raised. 
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Hyunjin
Hyunjin and you had just arrived to the hotelroom at your vacation spot. After eating dinner at a romantic restaurant you decided that the two of you had to unpack those carriers that were standing by the small TV in the room. 
“Jinnie~ let’s unpack because if we don’t do it now it will never get done!” you nagged at Hyunjin that was lying down on the white double bed scrolling through instagram. 
“but i’m full~” he whined back before you tickled him and he bolted up like a puppy. 
You opened your suitcase and started sorting clothes into pants, shirts and other such categories. Hyunjin was doing the same, sitting on the carpeted floor and pulling out clothing piece after clothing piece out of his black suitcase.
Upon pulling out your favorite sweater something fell and rolled across the floor. Panicked, you tried to catch it before it rolled over to Hyunjin but it was already to late. The small bullet vibrator stopped as it hit Hyunjins foot and he picked it up. His brown orbs widened as he held the tiny object in his hand. 
“Planned to use it?” he laughed before throwing it at you softly.   
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Jisung
Your boyfriend Jisung always had twisted ideas and this time wasn’t an exception. He sat across you at the dark oak table in the local cafe sipping away on his Americano (cue hyunjins ‘americano’). Your coffee was ready and you thanked the lady at the counter. What you didn’t notice is that during that small time period of getting your coffee and sitting down with Jisung you had left your bag wide open. Jisung glanced and saw a silk pouch which he hadn’t seen before and so he grabbed it and opened it. He smirked and put it in his lap, waiting eagerly for you to return. As you placed down your latte and sat down he said:
“Y/n?” 
“Yeah baby?” you answered.
He slid the pouch across the table, holding it down with 3 fingers. In shock you almost spilled your coffee as you tried to slam your hand on his, wanting to hide the small vibrator that had a remote controll connected to it. His reflexes were no joke because in the speed of light he retracted his hand and held the pouch up in the air for everyone to see. Jisung inched closer to you across the table.
“You’ll get it back only if you go put it on right now and I get to keep the controller.”
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Felix 
Movie date night at home was Felix’s and your favorite since it meant that you could cuddle to your hearts content. You messaged him a picture of the different dvds you had at home and Felix replied that you should bring all of them, being excited to watch dvd instead of netflix. 10 minutes later you got a photo of the snacks the soft boy had bought and as usual he knew your favorites, so you sent a bunch of hearts in reply.
Another reason to why these date nights were so great was because they most of the time led to sex and so you threw in a vibrator into the bag even though you rarely used toys in bed with him. 
When you arrived at his place you placed the bag down as Felix gave you a peck on the cheek. Before you could turn around after hanging your jacket on the coat rack he stood with the vibrator in hand looking at it in fascination. 
“This is way more fun than movies” he said under his breath as he got closer to you. 
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Seungmin
The two of you had been out on a date night and after a late night walk in the blossoming park your feet were starting to hurt. The black heels were cute with your outfit but not on your comfort. Seungmin noticed you limping a bit and a worrying expression was painted on his face. He pointed towards a rusty dark blue park bench.
“Take off your shoes, I’ll carry you back home” he said smiling. 
You hesitated, not wanting him to struggle with you on his back but the pain was excruciating and so you sat down on the bench and lazily put the heels in your bag. He kneeled down infront of you.
“Hop on y/n” he giggled slightly.
You giggled with him and hugged his sturdy back, wrapping your arms around his neck. The late summer breeze hit your exposed feet making them slightly cold but you didn’t care since Seungmins body heat was enough to warm you back up. 
Upon arriving home you hurried to put on a pair of socks to warm yout freezing feet. Seungmin being the cute boyfriend he was took out the heels from your bag but stumbled upon a box. He took it out to look closer at it and noticed that it was a small bullet vibrator that you had bought a week ago. You simply forgot to show it to Seungmin. When you looked for him he turned the box in his hand and looked at you with his puppy eyes. 
“Looks like date night is not over” he said as his eyes glimmered. 
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Jeongin
Entering college you knew nobody. Everybody had their acquaintances making you look like the outcast but that was until you met your best friend Jeongin. Just like you he was a diligent student, spending most of his time in the library where you first met him. You often had study sessions with the boy since the two of you could learn from each other and one day he suggested that the two of you studied at his house. You agreed thinking that it would be more quiet in his house than in some cafe or library. 
He smiled as he opened the door and greeted you. His room was small but had a comfortable vibe which was enhanced by the fairy lights over his bed. Before the studying started you asked him where the bathroom was and he politely pointed to the a door that could be seen from his bedroom. You told him that he could unpack your things if he wanted to get started and he nodded while smiling. Upon unzipping the backpack there were a bunch of papers and folders that were necessary for the project you were working on but at the bottom there was a white box. He turned it around and through the plastic window he saw the light purple bullet vibrator. Jeongin was flustered and intrigued at the same time never seeing such a thing in real life. You tiptoed back into the room thinking that Jeongin had already started studying but were caught off guard when you saw him holding the vibrator you had forgotten to unpack from yesterday.
“Didn’t know this was needed for a study session” he laughed hysterically while you froze in the door frame, blushing profusely.
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valentina-writes · 3 years
Text
Dying light
Request: anon: Hi um i was wondering if you could do an azriel x reader with 6 from angst and 7 from fluff? i loved starfall btw!
A/N: Awww thank you! I really liked writing this one!
(And I haven't figured out yet how to answer an ask while still being able to add tags, so I'm doing it this way)
Word count: 2.6k
Warnings: one curse word
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Spring had always been your favorite time of the year. When the coldness of the winter air disappeared and made room for the sun, a warm breeze and you were able to finally spend time outside again, you were happy. That was until you met her.
Elain was, in every way possible, the incarnation of spring. There was her obvious love for flowers and plants of every kind, her sweet and gentle nature. There was the way she talked, so softly and lady-like. And there was the way she dressed, always in beautiful pastel colored dresses.
You did not hate her, no. The fact that Feyre, one of your closest friends, was her sister, already played a big role. And then she was just so sweet and gentle, that it was essentially impossible to ever want to harm her in any way.
But you did not like her, no. Not at all.
Your aversion for her had started the day you met. It wasn’t fair, you knew that yourself. She had gone through a lot, being turned into a fae and all. But this did not make up for the way she had crossed you in every way possible.
You had always had a thing for the handsome shadowsinger. Maybe it was because you never felt the need to fill the comfortable silence between you with awkward small talk and you always felt good around him. Maybe it was simply because you had been friends for a while and grown closer.
Now, it didn’t matter anymore why you had fallen in love with him. Over the months before you met Elain, Azriel and you had grown closer. You had spent a lot of time training together, just as well as missions you two had completed together. And even in your free time, you always seemed to hover around each other.
But that was a thing of the past. When Elain had entered your life, Azriel had changed. He spent nearly every free minute with her, sitting in the garden or having hushed conversations. When he was training, he now did it with Cassian because your schedules didn’t align anymore due to his time with Elain. He deemed his missions too dangerous for you, too. In short, the only time left for you to see him was when the entire inner circle was there. And even then, he seemed to be naturally drawn towards her.
Today was just like that. You had awoken early in the morning, the sun shining through your window for the first time in weeks. The promise of a warm spring day lingering in the air.
Last night, after telling Rhysand of your problems and drinking some of his wine (and by some you meant quite a lot), he had deemed you unable to return home on your own, so you had stayed over at his townhouse.
You dressed up in a comfortable sweatshirt and grabbed a book and a blanket. On your way into the garden you stopped by in the kitchen to get a mug of hot chocolate. Nobody except for you seemed to be awake already, probably because today was a rare day off.
Out in the garden you sat down under your favorite tree and started reading. The wind was still slightly chilly, but later it would probably become a very warm day.
You weren’t really able to concentrate on your book. First, the sun that shone on your face and warmed every part of it, making you close the book and soak in the warmth. And then, when you opened your eyes again, they fell on the flowers Elain had planted only a few days ago. Your heart clenched at the memory of Azriel kneeling in the dirt next to her, helping her plant these flowers. You were only a heartbeat away from ripping them all out of the ground, when the door to the small garden opened again.
And there she was. Pretty as ever, she walked into the garden, sitting down on a chair. You quickly glanced away from the flowers and opened your book again, pretending to read. The last thing you wanted was to strike up a conversation with her.
She did not greet you and neither did you. She was looking at nothing, her eyes not focusing on anything. Sometimes you wondered if she had gone insane. But then you reminded yourself that, even though she had everything you had always wanted, she still deserved to be treated with some human decency.
Shortly after she had sat down, you heard another rustling coming from the door. For a second you thought about winnowing away. But no. You were curious of what they discussed. Curious of what conversations they kept from you and the others.
You shortly looked up, stealing a glance at Azriel. He looked ethereal the way he sat there, on the small terrace, stretching out his wings and sipping on a mug, his eyes still tired. The burning feeling of jealousy that had been your dear companion for the past months, appeared in your chest. Had he slept here? Had he spent the night with her? You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.
Your cheeks burned as you went back to pretending to read the book. You could not concentrate on anything except for him and the relatively new feeling that arose. Hollowness. You felt so empty inside. You had known him for such a long time, had been sure that he reciprocated your feelings. Now, the only thing that was left was the bond.
Yes, you were sure that what you felt next to your heart was the mating bond. You had felt it snap when he had cleaned your wounds after training with Cassian. Your entire world had shifted when you had looked into his eyes. As if he was the center of your world now, everything else meaningless.
But he had not shown a trace of feeling the same, had not told you that he felt it too. And you were sure that he would have if he did. Shortly after, Elain joined your friend group. Was it possible that your mate did not feel the bond? That it was only there for you? You had asked Rhys this question last night, breaking down in his arms after the others had gone to bed. He had not known the answer. And now you were left more devastated than ever before.
They had started chatting a little bit, but you were unable to catch their words over the chirping of the birds. It was impossible. You wouldn’t gain anything from staying here, looking at what you couldn’t have. It would only make you even sadder.
You risked another glance at him. He was laughing at something Elain had said, his spread wings glowing red and golden in the sunlight. And his eyes … pure joy spoke out of them. You knew you should be feeling happy for him. You knew that he deserved to be happy, even if it wasn’t with you. But the bond next to your aching heart said something else.
For a second, you looked at Elain, the definition of peace and beauty. For a second, you allowed yourself to unleash the entirety of your jealousy and pain, of the sorrow and agony you felt. And for a second, you actually hated her.
In this moment, you did not realize that you had forgotten to build up the barrier around your mind. You did not realize that you had been so overtaken by your feelings that you left the end of the bond, that you assumed was only one-sided anyways, unguarded.
The conversation stopped and over the discarded book you saw Azriel’s head snap in your direction. The look on his face wasn’t angry by any means … it was surprised. And hurt. His shadows began to show again, swirling around him. He knows, you realized. He feels the mating bond too. And he hasn’t said a thing over the last months. This was all you needed to know.
Without caring about what they might think about you, you winnowed away from them, just as your first tear began to build in your eyes. The familiar feeling of nothing and the air being pressed out of your lungs comforted you a little.
You could still feel the sun on your face when you appeared at your destination – the apartment you rented. Most of your days were spent training or making plans with the inner circle anyways, so that you mainly went here to sleep.
Azriel would find you, you were sure of that. It would only be a matter of time – if he wanted to. Most likely he was still sitting in Elain’s nice little garden joking about your sudden departure.
You laid down on your bed, curling up in a ball. Never in the past months had you felt as lonely as you did now. He had known about the bond, had felt it too. And never had he tried to talk about it. Azriel hadn’t even rejected it. Just left it there, hanging in place to remind you of what you couldn’t have.
Not even an hour later you heard a knock on your front door. You didn’t want to open the door for him. And if he would wait there all day long, you wouldn’t care.
The knocking became more prominent and louder. Through the door you heard him calling your name. “Y/n?! I know you are in there”.
At first, it was easy to ignore the pounding on your door. But after a while, you had heard enough. Especially when you felt his presence in the bond.
Groaning out of anger you stood up and strode to the door. You would tell him what you thought of his behavior. And then make sure that he would stay away from you from now on, as much as it hurt you.
You opened the door and there he was, looking just as beautiful as ever, though frowning.
“What do you want?”, you snapped at him, “Go away and leave me alone! I don’t want to talk to you again. Ever”. That was probably a bit too dramatic. But you did not care.
“Please, y/n, let me explain”, he begged. His shadows were nowhere to be seen, a sign of his discomfort. At least he felt as bad about this as you did.
“You still love her, don’t you? You felt the bond, you knew what was going on. But you didn’t even once try to talk to me about it, not once! You didn’t bother, didn’t care about how I was feeling the entire time! And never did you stop spending so much time with her. You are always around her, spending every free minute with her, not wasting a single thought about me. Leave me alone, I don’t want to see you any longer”.
You wanted to slam the door shut, but he reached out and held the door open. His face now looked pained, an expression you hadn’t seen on him in a long time.
“No, listen to me, y/n. I spent time with Elain because she needed me. She needed someone to listen to her and do what she loves with her, to adapt to this new life. Nobody saw the light inside her dying, nobody saw what she was going through, so I helped her. I know all too well what she is feeling like at the moment and I thought you would understand this”.
You wanted to stop him, but he didn’t let you talk. “Yes, I felt the bond. I don’t know how long you have felt it, but … it’s been there a while already for me. I wanted to talk about it, yes, I did. But shortly after Elain and Nesta joined us you started being so absent. You never talked to me, left the room when Elain and I entered it. I figured you didn’t like me back. That you just ignored the bond or wanted to reject it but hadn’t told me yet”.
You looked at him, not yet completely convinced. “I don’t believe you”, you said, “The way you look at her … the way you talk to each other, spend every free minute together. You always went out of your way for her. But never for me. When was our last training session together? When have we had our last conversation without the others? When have we been on a mission for the last time? I can remember each of those last occasions. You stopped noticing me after she appeared”.
“Her and me are just friends. Can’t you see it’s you I love?”, he asked. You stared at him in shock.
“Yes, y/n, I love you. And I know I fucked up, I know that I should have spoken to you earlier and I know that we didn’t spend as much time together as we used to. But has it ever occurred to you, that I felt the same way you did? It’s not just my fault that we stopped being friends. I waited for you. Some days I sat there and waited for you to join me training. I waited until I couldn’t take it anymore. And then I went to talk to Elain, because she was the only one who would listen to my problems”.
You didn’t know what to say. For the first time you thought about your behavior during the last months – and realized that he was right. He had spent a lot of time with her. But when he entered the room, when you crossed each other’s path in the hallway, you had fled every single time.
His shadows hid his face from your sight now, as he opened the barrier that shielded his mind from the mating bond. There was pain and sadness and anger radiating off of him. You stumbled backwards, because even though you hadn’t accepted the bond yet, the intensity of his feelings was too much to handle.
Gasping, you stood there, searching for the right words. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t see what you felt, I didn’t know I hurt you so much. The only thing I could think of was how perfect she is and how much better than me. How lucky I should be for you that you found someone. Everyday I wondered if the Mother had cursed me, if it was my fate to love someone for eternity who doesn’t love me back. Everyday I became angrier about the way you looked at each other, the way she touched or hugged you”. This conversation had turned into something you hadn’t planned, something you would’ve never thought possible.
Azriel lifted his shadows again, his face, for the first time you could remember, showing many emotions at once. Tears in his eyes, but his gaze so loving. Still frowning, but his lips already showing a hint of a smile.
You took him by his arm and pulled him inside, slamming the door shut. Without wasting another second, he crashed his lips against yours, pushing you against the wall. You stood there, kissing and soaking in the closeness for a long time. Azriel kisses were so sensual and full of pure love, that after a while you were both gasping for air. Nothing could have prepared you for the intensity of kissing your mate after so many months of yearning and fear.
Your mate. Your mate. Your mate. You couldn’t even comprehend that this was real. That he loved you too and wanted to spend eternity with you. Your mate.
“Do you want to come inside? I mean the hallway is not a really nice place”, you breathlessly whispered. At the grin that spread on his face you just said: “But I’m not gonna cook for you – yet”.
Azriel kissed you one last time, then let you go to lead the way. “No need to rush anything. We have got all time in the world”. And damn yes, you did.
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orange-waterfalls · 2 years
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Unnecessary Feelings
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The Host x gn!reader
ty anon for the request
A/N: BRO. Bro. Bro I. I am so proud of this one don’t even look at me. Also happy spooky month! Might do something with that, idk though. This is more of another character study with the Host, I’ll be honest. I still think it’s pretty cute, though. I didn’t read back through this, lmk about any mistakes. Enjoy!
Word Count: 2.4k
Unnecessary Feelings
Host isn’t particularly looking for a relationship, of any sort. Not necessarily. It would be nice, but it isn’t at the forefront of his mind. It’s not that important. Change is weird. He’s been in his same office, writing the same kind of stories, with the same kind of people. That’s fine. He likes that. He likes his novels, his protagonists, and his office.
He explained all of these things to Wilford and Darkiplier, but neither was having it. That’s how he ended up staying at the manor for a while, while his place was being “renovated”. He didn’t know how much he trusted Wilford to “renovate” correctly. 
Wilford likes pink. A lot. Host doesn’t. He can't see it, but he knows it. Pink was loud. Pink smelled like raspberries and icing and cherry blossoms and shrimp. It sounded like fair music and joyful screaming and chalk scraping on the ground. It felt smooth and soft and squishy. It tasted like sugar, sugar, sugar, too much to be healthy. Pink made his brain hurt. He doesn’t like pink. Wilford likes pink. Wilford… Wilford fucking loves pink. And Wilford will say it’s pink, and Host will know it’s pink, and even though he can’t see it, he’ll be upset that it’s pink. He doesn’t like pink. He doesn’t know how to say it. So he doesn’t. And he copes.
He takes the opportunity to talk to the others staying at the manor, which was pretty much just Dr. Iplier and… you. Dr. Iplier was a… reasonable man. He was boring. Very boring, really. He directed every conversation to discuss your health or a weird patient he had recently, neither of which really interested the Host. He didn’t enjoy talking to Dr. Iplier too much. 
You, however…
Were also kind of boring?
Well, you mostly just wandered around, reading, cleaning, sleeping, not doing much else. He didn’t initiate conversation and neither did you. If you sat next to him on the couch and he sat a little straighter and breathed a little faster, that was simply a coincidence. And the urge to talk to you about his novel for hours was simply boredom. And the desire to listen to you talk for hours was… it was none of your goddamn business is what it was. He didn’t like you, but he didn’t dislike you either. He felt nothing. You made him feel nothing. This didn’t mean anything.
Really. 
It didn’t.
But, entirely too fast, Dark and Wil were done. Or rather, whoever they hired was done. Which was good. Host bid you two goodbye. Dr. Iplier told him to drink plenty of water but not too much, and you told him you’d keep an eye out for his newest novel. He felt like he should be blushing right now, he felt it in his face. Nobody commented, so he assumed he didn’t. He felt a thing happen in his chest as he looked at the two of you. 
He didn’t like either of you, and if he kept telling himself that, maybe it would come true.
He received a new office. It was much cleaner and brighter, and he actually had room to think. There was an espresso machine in the corner atop a pink table, a “dandelion” yellow couch next to it, a pastel pink desk against the opposite wall, and a few “motivational” posters on the baby blue walls. At least from what he’d heard. Wilford did his best to explain the room. He appreciated that the walls were not, in fact, pink like he expected.
He had to walk around a few times, keep track of his steps, and get used to the new layout. It’s a good room. Clean. No nails sticking out of the floor, no rats scurrying around, no cobwebs, no holes, no nothing. Clean and quiet. Clean. And. Quiet.
… 
He fucking hates the goddamn room.
Who likes silence? Who enjoys that? Who wants to be stuck in a suffocatingly clean office with nothing but their thoughts for hours at a time? Homicidal people, that’s who.
Ignore the fact that he has homicidal tendencies and has almost killed/has killed several people, that doesn’t matter right now.
He can just sit and deal. He can take the office, try to coax the rats into coming back, buy some spiders, and write. No big deal.
Except what if he didn’t deal? What if he told them he hated it and couldn’t work in these conditions? What if he was forced to stay at the manor again? What if he could… talk… and interact with people? Without anything barring him from doing so?
He’s… not lonely. 
He’s not lonely. 
He’s not.
But if he stays in the manor again while Wilford talks about how he has no taste and Darkiplier decides to be in charge of the renovation now, that’s not his fault.
Bim, Eric, and you were staying at the manor when he had to. For the second time. Bim had a thing for rom-coms and dramedy movies, and Eric had started to pick that thing up. You and Host also watched the movies, but whether you actually liked them was beyond him. Usually, you made fun of them together. He couldn’t see them, but he could hear a lot of the ridiculous dialogue. He could drop two random people in a closed-off room together and they’d have more chemistry than half of these Hallmark Christmas Movie couples. You were very quiet during “To All The Boys I Loved Before”, however, so either you loved it or you hated it. He couldn’t really tell.
You two talked a little less than before, you being preoccupied with Eric. Host was fine with that. He could just… talk to you whenever you were done. But you apparently had a low social battery and trapped yourself in a room whenever you were done talking to Eric. That was fine. Host didn’t need to be happy anyways. 
He may or may not have showed up at your door first thing in the morning sometimes to get the chance to talk to you. You didn’t know, so it was fine.
But Eric and Bim were smart. They picked up on the Host’s… “feelings” and desire to talk to you. If either were in a room with you and Host, they immediately left so that you could talk. It worked, and Host was happy, but he felt kind of bad.
No. No he didn’t. He felt no emotion towards anyone or anything. The suit he bought for Bim and the journal he bought for Eric meant absolutely nothing. It was a business transaction. You can’t prove anything.
Somehow quicker than before, the room was fixed. Again. And you, Eric, and Bim saw him off. Eric’s voice sounded wet and Bim sounded a little sad as well. You sounded… fine. But he had a suspicion that you knew you were going to see him again soon. And Host was not upset, of course not. And if he was thankful his eyes weren’t exactly working properly because otherwise he might have shed a few tears, it was completely unrelated. You can’t prove anything.
The new room was completely black and white. Black laptop and a white desk with a black chair. White walls and a black floor. A white couch against the wall. No espresso machine this time, which slightly disappointed the Host. 
Darkiplier sounded proud when he explained the room. Host could see why, it sounded very pretty. Which he tried to say when he turned to Darkiplier. But his traitorous mouth instead said:
“Host asks if this room is meant for the Host or you?”
The Host was teleported back to the manor this time. Wilford was standing out in front, Host knew because he heard the man’s distinct yell of surprise. He also smelled gunsmoke and wine.
“Wilford.”
“Host. What are you doing here?”
“The Host asks what you are doing here?”
“... I asked you first.”
“The Host asked you second.”
“... business. You?”
“... business.”
“Ah… well, cheers.” Quick footsteps get quieter as Wilford runs away. Host stood for a moment,  debating whether or not to apologize to Dark. Before he could decide, the door opened.
“Host?” You asked. Host instantly felt himself straighten up and ball his fists.
“Hello.” He said stiffly.
“Another renovation?” He heard the smile in your voice and forced himself not to smile back.
“Host assumes so.” He nodded.
“So…” You sighed.
“So?” He tilted his head.
“Are you coming in?” You asked. Host let himself smile as he walked into the manor.
He didn’t see you all too much for the rest of the week, and he was severely disappointed. There wasn’t really anybody staying there, just a few people visiting over a few days. Yancy, Illinois, and maybe Bing, if the sound of a skateboard at 3 in the morning was any clue. He was pretty much alone. And that was fine. He was usually alone. He was used to it. This was fine.
Maybe he should stop lying to himself so often.
All too soon, he was on his way back. Again. You were the only one to see him off this time.
“Well… um…” You started. The tension between you two was like a punch to the gut. You were perfectly fine before. What happened?
“Host bids you farewell,” He nodded politely and turned around. Maybe if he left quickly, it wouldn’t hurt as much.
“Wait, Host!” You called. He froze. “I’m, uh… I’m coming with you.” He spun around to face you.
“Host… asks what you mean?”
“I wanna… see your office. I mean, if I’m… allowed to visit?” You said meekly. Host felt his heart quicken.
“The Host would love-like that,” He coughed as he corrected himself. 
“Ok, good,” He could hear the smug smile in your voice. Damn him and his… feelings.
The commute to his thrice-new office was almost silent. Neither of you said anything. You most likely wanted to wait for the Host to start the conversation, but he didn’t want to bother you if you didn’t want to talk. It was a little awkward. But after a while, it became comfortable. He liked just being in your presence.
He thought that was what he would miss most about the manor.
You both stood outside of his office door when you arrived.
“Well… here we are.” You whispered. Host nodded solemnly. “Do you want to do the honors.” Host lifted his hand to the doorknob, feeling himself shake. He clutched the doorknob, not moving an inch. He could feel your eyes on him. You were worried. This was fine. 
You could visit. But what if you didn’t want to? What if you saw his stories? What if you thought he was cruel? He was, but not to you. He would never be to you. He could stop. He could write different stories. He could write a romance! It would still affect people’s lives, but for the better? At least until the story ended and he had no control over it. What if you wanted him to stop? He couldn’t just stop. Would you give him an ultimatum? You wouldn’t… would you?
“Host--” You started. He whipped around to face you.
“The Host does not want to enter the room.” He said, voice wavering a little. He cleared his throat. Embarrassing.
“What? Ho-”
“The Host wants to talk to people. The Host… wants friends. The Host wants to stay with you and the others.” He grits out. God, this was pathetic. Was he begging? 
“Host, open the door.” You sighed. The Host froze. What? Why were you… what?
Oh. So that was it. You were seeing him off… for the last time. You didn’t… you… didn’t like… 
Right. Yeah. You were a polite person. He should’ve known.
“But…” He trailed off and faced the floor.
“Host, I really think you should open the door,” You said, the smile clear in your voice. His eyebrows furrowed. Well, you didn’t have to be so eager about it, Jesus.
The Host grabbed the doorknob and threw the door open with a crack against the wall.
“Jesus, man!” Bim’s distinct game show voice sounded from inside the room. Left front corner. “What’s got your boxers in a bunch?”
“I always thought he was a boxer-briefs man.” Dr. Iplier said from the opposite side.
“I can confirm that he is, in fact, a boxer-briefs man.” Google said from the same place as Dr. Iplier.
“I honestly would’ve thought commando.” Eric’s voice was muffled, as if he was facing away from everyone else.
What… What the fuck?
“What. The fuck.” He said loudly. You clapped a hand on his shoulder, making him jump.
“Surprise! We’re invading your office. Please don’t resist.” He could, again, hear the smirk on your face. He almost wanted to be mad. Almost.
“What?” He turned to you. You let go of him and stepped in.
“We fixed your room! You got your bland-ass beige walls, your hardwood floor, cobwebs, dust, and I think there’s a rat somewhere in the walls…”
“His name is Remy!” Eric said happily.
“Sorry, Remy is somewhere in the walls.” Host didn’t move, still processing this whole situation.
“The Host… doesn’t understand…” He rubbed his temples.
“Well, you seemed… lonely. And we like spending time with you. So… we’re gonna spend time with you!” Bim explained.
“You don’t have to do things alone anymore. Just… call someone up and we’ll come hang out.” Dr. Iplier said.
“Only if you ask, though.” Eric added softly. Host didn’t move for a long while.
The others began to fidget, thinking they did something wrong. Eventually, he took a breath, and everyone else held theirs.
“Is… is the Host’s equipment still here?” He asked.
“Your writing stuff? Yeah, it’s on the desk.” You answered. Host went quiet again, thinking.
“Do… You guys want to help the Host write something?” He mumbled.
“Hell yeah we do!” You clapped your hands once. Host made his way over to his desk. All the others, including you, crowded around him as soon as he sat down, pushing each other to get a good look.
This was slightly claustrophobic and pretty uncomfortable… 
It was perfect.
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existslikepristin · 2 years
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The Kinktober chapters continue! I was super happy btw because I hit exactly 2k words on this... then I had to fuck it up with this stupid intro and the tags. T_T
Only self-edited this time, so please forgive the relatively low quality (even though it's totally appropriate to this week's theme).
Tags: NSFW, TheLounge, Sounds, Dreamcatcher, Momoland, Gahyeon, Jane, Kinktober!, bimbofication, humiliation, a bit of butt stuff, honestly Gahyeon is just so mean *crying emoji*, the appearance of non/dub-con, this fic SLAPS... please laugh this tag is hilarious and relevant
Kinktober Week 2
Week 2: Bimbofication + Humiliation (Rolls by Sol and Kimmie respectively)
“Hurry it up Jane,”
“I’m s-sorry! I’m trying! Please don’t punish me!” Jane stumbled after Gahyeon like a baby giraffe through the parking garage.
Gahyeon looked back with a long mental groan. She looked the pink lemonade-themed slut up and down. Jane’s moderately tall height was enhanced to truly ridiculous proportions by thirteen centimeter hot pink stilettos with peep holes to show off her canary toenail polish. Her fingernails were the same, besides a couple of pink accents. She had a pair of silver anklets, but they were all that covered any part of her legs, since her pastel pink zip-on-for-easy-removal skirt was too short to cover anything. In fact, Gayheon could see the sunshine yellow sling bikini, which looked more like a pair of cloth strips, coming all the way up from her pussy, through the skirt and tiny matching tube top, and wrapping around to meet at the back of her neck. It looked almost like an extremely long necklace. And in fact, just like a necklace would be, it was somehow completely backless.
Jane’s makeup was similarly garish, heavy on the eyeliner and smoky shadow, and fresh barbie lip gloss. In fact, they were just leaving a stylist salon where they’d gotten her hair touched up too. There was no sign of her naturally dark hair. Instead, it was beach bleach blonde, long, and wavy, with the ends shifting into pink. A pair of gigantic, rose gold hoop earrings peeked out from the waves.
If only she would stop looking around nervously and trying to cover herself with her arms.
Gahyeon, who was fully and reasonably clothed, snatched one of her wrists and yanked her forward. She knew that Jane had plenty of experience in such tall heels, so the delay was rather frustrating. “Why are you so fucking stupid, Jane? Whores don’t cover their tits.”
“But G-Gahyeon, I’m not—”
A death glare was enough to cut her off immediately, but Gahyeon wasn’t going to stop there. She pulled Jane down to her height and grabbed her face with the other hand, squeezing her cheeks and forcing her lips to pucker. Jane’s eyes grew wide.
“Nobody asked you what you are or what you aren’t. If I say something to you, if it even just sounds like I’m just implying something, it’s true as far as you’re concerned. Got it?”
Jane fidgeted apprehensively. Every time her eyes shifted away from the penetrating stare, Gahyeon squeezed harder.
“O-okay.”
“You understand?”
“I understand.”
“Are you sure? You’re an idiot after all.”
Jane bit her lip and shut her eyes for a second before Gahyeon shook her face. When they reopened, they were glistening with held back tears. “Y-yeah, I get it.”
“How?”
“Because you t-told me.”
“So what are you?” Gahyeon’s every response was immediate, snapping back at Jane like crocodiles.
Of course, Jane’s responses were hesitant, like she was looking into the watering hole without a mama giraffe nearby. “I’m a… an idiot.”
“What else?”
“A whore.”
Gahyeon shoved Jane back. Red spots marred her cheeks where Gahyeon’s fingers had pressed in. “And you wanted attention, right, whore? Earn it. You’re supposed to be an idol. Dance.”
“Here?!” Jane glanced side to side, apparently suddenly very conscious of the very public location. Why she hadn’t thought about that earlier, walking around in an outfit that clearly embarrassed her, Gahyeon couldn’t fathom.
“Yes. It’s either that or you know what.” Jerking her head in the direction of the van, Gahyeon started walking again, only looking over occasionally to make sure Jane was following and gauging her reactions.
Jane grimaced. Her arms tightened against her sides and flailed up and down at the elbows, seemingly trying to decide whether or not to defy Gahyeon’s commands. “I can’t… do that.”
“You’re gonna dance then. ‘Bang Bang.’ Go.”
“D-do you mean ‘Baam?’”
“I mean the one that sounds like a fucking goose on acid. The one where you swing your hips, put your hands in the air, and bounce around like a slut.”
Gahyeon could see the tears building in the corners of Jane’s enormous eyes. She kept pressing. “Sorry, not specific enough? I mean the one you stole from some Russians! But not the remixed version you call another album. The original plagiarized version.”
There was the bite. The tears spilled out of Jane’s eyes, taking a stream of mascara with them. It was time for the death roll.
“Too bad you don’t have enough ass to get attentio—Oh! I remember! It’s the one where you try, and fail, to get people to pay attention to your sorry lack of boobs or your half-a-pre-chorus worth of lines instead of focusing entirely on Nancy.”
The baby giraffe joined the circle of life. It was a good thing they had reached the van because Jane dove between it and the next car to crouch and cry. But Gahyeon couldn’t let that happen. She wasn’t done yet. She tangled her fingers in Jane’s hair, wrenched her back upright, pushed her back against the van door, and pulled on the bottom of the sling bikini up to rub it against her clit. As usual, Jane’s tear-soaked face correlated perfectly to her cum-soaked pussy. “Now are you going to dance or not, you dumb slut?”
Jane’s breath caught. She must have barely been holding in her slutty moans. Her fingers searched for something to grip on the van door, but the handles were out of reach. She bit her lip and shook her head, presumably as an answer to Gahyeon’s question, eyes closed but still squeezing out the occasional tear.
“You know what you have to do then? Since you’re being a stupid bitch about it?” Gahyeon swapped hands, shoving a fingertip into Jane’s cheek.
Her already wide mouth spread even wider as she grit her teeth to keep from sobbing. “I’m a st—I’m a stupid bitch!”
Gahyeon snaked her fingers around the bikini into Jane’s pussy and pressed hard against her g spot, coaxing a gasping moan out of her, which quickly turned into a crying whine that she bit back once more. “Wow, you copied me like you copied those Russian artists. But that’s not what you should be doing. If you're not going to dance, you have to do something else for me.”
“I-I-I’m a dirty slut. I’m your s-slut! Ple-ease, Gahyeon!”
“What the hell… You dumb fuck.” Gahyeon pulled her fingers out of Jane’s cunt and slapped her across the face too quickly for her to react. “Look at me when you’re talking! You know what dumb girls like you have to do. Now hurry up and do it!”
The cum on the thematically appropriate light pink handprint on Jane’s face glimmered in the shitty fluorescent parking garage light. She slowly opened her eyes. Her chin trembled. "No, please... I-I don’t want to do it."
Gahyeon slapped her again. The cracking noise was just that little extra loud since she was hitting a moist surface, and echoed through the garage. Jane flinched away. "Okay! I'll—" She paused and tensed up as Gahyeon dipped her fingers back inside her and ground a palm against her clit. "I'll do it!"
Her words weren't enough. Gahyeon moved for another slap, but Jane winced, pulling her shoulders up around her neck and her hands to her face. But her hands weren't there defensively. She was finally doing as she was told.
Jane's hands balled into fists, pointer fingers still extended, pressing into her cheeks. Her tears poured faster, further wrecking her makeup. Her lips twitched. Choking sounds of pain, pleasure, and mental anguish combined escaped her throat. It was barely a whisper. "B-bbuing bbuing."
"Louder." Gahyeon's command was low, a vague threat.
"Bbuing…" Jane loosed a single sob. Her legs quivered, grinding for more friction on Gahyeon’s hand. She spoke louder, but quicker, like a child trying to get away with saying a naughty word in class. "Buibuing."
“I said louder, you fucking bimbo!”
Jane ducked her head, defensively burying her cheek in her shoulder. “Bbuing bbuing!” she shouted. But to Gahyeon’s delight, she didn’t put her fingers down.
“Again.”
There was only a little hesitation out of Jane. “Bbu—eep!”
Gahyeon unzipped Jane’s skirt and let it fall to the garage floor. She felt even more juices, practically pouring out of Jane like a running tap. Heat radiated from her core like she was running on an internal combustion engine. “Keep going, slut. It’s not like you’re any more exposed now than you were before.”
“B-b-bbuing bbuing!” Jane rose in pitch as Gahyeon yanked upward on the bikini again.
“Don’t you dare stop.”
A noise somewhere on the opposite side of the garage made Jane’s eyes go wide and she whipped her head around in its direction. Gahyeon grabbed her by the jaw and forced her head forward again. “What did I just say?”
“But Gahyeon! What if—ah!”
Gahyeon flicked Jane between the eyebrows. “Sluts like you aren’t allowed to give a fuck. Let them hear how cute you think you are.”
Jane grimaced again, but curled her fingers into the classic kitten-idol gesture. “Bbuing bbuing.”
“Louder.” Gahyeon growled and flicked her in the same spot again.
“Bbuing bbui—ah! P-plea—ah! Bbuing bbuing!” The cutesy noises became less cute and more desperate as Gahyeon alternated between flicking Jane’s forehead, slapping her if her hands dropped, and tugging on the sling bikini.
Gahyeon’s mind wandered as she kept up the abuse, wondering why she’d started smacking the poor girl around in the first place. But, she supposed, she didn’t need an actual reason when the whole act was for someone’s sexual gratification. It’s not like they were in some sort of pointless alternate universe, breaking anybody else’s immersion, or like it would matter if they were.
Jane was repeating “bbuing bbuing” and shielding her ears with her kitty paws, partially crouched a little below Gahyeon’s height. Her makeup had been ruined far earlier than Gahyeon had planned, but the black streaks and smudges all over were shockingly sexy. Gahyeon stopped her assault and pulled Jane’s hands away from her ears.
“Look at you, you dumb shit. What kind of idol breaks down crying just because they’re a little embarrassed at having to act cute? It’s no fucking wonder you’re so unpopular. Even your members that quit the group still get more love than you.”
She’d have continued, but she paused when Jane reopened her enormous, glistening eyes. Gahyeon liked those eyes. She grabbed Jane’s face and pushed her harder against the van with a fierce kiss. The taste of the tears on her lips would have been much better if they weren’t saturated with mascara.
As they kissed, Gahyeon reached down between them, wrapped a hand around the drenched bikini fabric, and pulled down. She was met with a bit of resistance and a squeal until she felt a small pop. Then another. Then one more, and the resistance gave way. Gahyeon broke the kiss and held up the string of three large beads that, until then, held the end of the bikini in place. She pushed them into Jane’s open, panting mouth. Although the beads were big enough to make Jane gag, she dutifully kept them behind her glossy pink lips.
“Pick up your skirt and get in the car, twat.”
Quivering from her head to her yellow-painted toes, Jane stared expectantly up at Gahyeon as she let the anal beads fall out of her mouth and into her palm. Gahyeon gave her one last slap across the face, making her squeak and drop them.
“G-Gahyeon?” Jane asked as she bent over to get her skirt.
“What now, Jane? Hurry it up.”
Jane’s mouth spread into a shaky smile. “When we get to y-your place… Please d-don’t sit on my face, o-or spank me, or fuck m-me silly while you tell me how m-much I suck.”
Gahyeon smiled back. She received that message loud and clear.
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drxwsyni · 3 years
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Always, and Forever
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Pairing: Yandere Koushi Sugawara x f!Reader
Synopsis: Koushi has taken care of you for so long, by now it’s something you’ve come to find solace in. And so it pains you to have to part from him on purge night, forced into the outside world in hopes of quelling your lingering embers of desired independence, however that may happen.
a/n: This is my fic for the Yandere Purge AU writing collab, hosted by the Lovesick Discord server! Here’s the link to the m.list where you can read the other fics members have written for this collab! I really didn’t mean for my part to get this long, but alas I have zero self control. 
Thanks you so so so much to @yanderart​ for beta-ing this fic, you literally always work wonders for me while also being the sweetest human being ever. Many kithes for you my dear friend.
9.7k words
Warnings: Dubcon, heavy stockholm syndrome, infantilization, attempted assault (when Daichi makes a brief appearance), injury, depictions of violence, gaslighting, manipulation.
_____
He felt like home.
Koushi’s embrace, his words, his smell―the stability he surrounded you with.
The love he surrounded you with.
You felt light around him. Mind in another place, floating off into feelings of quietude. A swell of comfort bloomed in your chest at the sight of him. His warm and familiar smile, adoration for you shining in his hazel brown eyes. The way his fingers ghosted across your skin, gentle, as if you were made of the most delicate glass, and any move too unintentionally harsh would break you.
It’s why he took such good care of you. Making sure you were safe, out of harm from the dangers of the outside world. Tucked away in his home a small ways away from the outskirts of the city. He held a certain pride to it all―the knowledge that you were protected from all that could ail you, and all because of him.
You doubted that there was anyone else on the planet who would do the same. Who would learn every single little thing about you, know you better than you knew yourself. Nobody else existed that would dedicate so much to making sure you never had to worry your pretty little head over the stresses of everyday life.
There was nobody but Koushi.
As he held you close, your back pressed into his as the two of you lay in bed, it was obvious that he was all that you needed.
His arms wrapped around you, and with the lulling sensation of sleep slowly washing over you like a rising tide, it was easy to melt into his embrace. If you relaxed enough, let your inhibitions escape you, just how he always urged you to do, you might just feel like all is right in your small world with him.
“...You know what day tomorrow is, right?”
But that was why you couldn’t relax.
Koushi keeps you on your toes, biding his time for you to step out of line. He waits patiently, observing, but not compelling you more than normal on any given day. Your lover keeps with routine, fearful that changes will be too much for you to handle. Only, you wish there was a change, anything to stave off the mental consequences that repetitive actions brought.
You couldn’t relax, because even if he felt like home, it was still not your home. You lost that a year ago tomorrow.
...Purge night.
Free reign given to those like Koushi, and for those such as yourself. To have and to hold, or to run free. Two opposing forces in a race against the clock to fulfill their desires.
But you didn’t even make it past the first five minutes.
• • •
Seated on his couch, TV mantled above the fireplace, a warm glow dancing across the room.
You were nervous―painfully so.
That dreaded letter came in the mail. You were selected to be a participant, the government mandated notice read. Unfortunately for you, it didn’t read who you were selected by. It was why you were scared out of your mind, and why you went to the only person who could calm you down.
At his side, his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer, Koushi soothingly reassured you that everything would be alright. With his words, low and gentle, softly spoken in your ear. Or with his actions, a welcomingness that you could never refuse. His home being a safe haven, his touch coaxing you to let yourself accept that you had not a single thing to fret about with him.
He offered protection for the night. And you knew that you wouldn’t make it out there by yourself, so of course you obliged.
You obliged when he said to make yourself comfortable, when he offered to put on some music to ease the tension, whatever could assist your shaken soul. Your nerves were quite clearly running rampant― “Nothing a good cup of tea can’t fix.”
Koushi was right, it did wonders for your state, subdued more and more by the second.
Soon, the announcement played across the screen. Words in bold urging caution for some, and sparking adrenaline for many.
For you, things felt...strange.
The task of placing who had signed you up for this dreadful night was mind boggling. You thought to your coworkers, childhood friends, even lingering acquaintances that had entered and left your life in the span of a single day.
Still, nobody came to mind…
Not until the announcement ended.
Or the sirens outside ceased their countrywide alerts.
It wasn’t until you lost the feeling in your limbs, did you know where your mistake lay.
Taking the form of your always caring friend, never the one to leave you unguarded. Constantly checking up on you, ensuring you were looking after yourself. Doing everything he could to take responsibility for all those little things you couldn’t handle, just to lift that extra weight off you.
But really, Koushi didn’t think you could handle anything. Not like he could. Your struggles weren’t something you, a fragile and vulnerable thing, could ever possibly manage. In his eyes, you just weren’t made to take care of yourself.
That’s what he told you as he shut the television off, and as he laid you down on the couch.
He spoke so lovingly, “It’s alright, my sweet girl.”
By then it was too late. You were reduced to being completely defenceless, at risk of quite literally everything.
...That’s not how he saw it, though.
To Koushi, you’d never been safer.
That was the reality―you in his home away from modern dangers. Then, and now still.
• • •
A year had just about gone by. You no longer thought for yourself, for the most part. Koushi tried to force you into a state of complete dependence, and you couldn’t deny that he did a good job of it. You knew this because mostly, your memory was in shambles. From days upon days upon weeks where you let him do all the work, things didn’t really stick. And what significant thing was there to remember in the same laid out and unfaltering routine?
He would always dote on you, not once have you needed to ask him to do so. “It’s my responsibility,” he would repeatedly tell you. It wasn’t your place to fend for yourself―that was his job.
With how thorough he was with that agenda, not letting you slip up for a second without reprimanding you, Koushi had molded your mindset to fit his ideals. A year of reminders, of insisting submission upon you―all serving one purpose.
To make you see, make you understand that he was the only one for you.
But he knew just as much, if not more than you, that still there remained the flickering flames of autonomy. The need for it dim, but its light still a beacon of strength that fueled you to resist him.
Koushi waited for an answer, an acknowledgement to his question that no doubt stirred conflict in your mind.
Your hands gripped the bedsheets, a seed of dread planted in your chest. Just slightly, you nodded your head in confirmation. Of course you knew what tomorrow was.
The day where, only because it’s illegal not to do so, those like you were given a chance at freedom. To make up for failing last year, and to obtain that independence you once held.
You didn’t even know if you completely wanted it though...
Behind you, Koushi pulled you closer into him. Carefully, he leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss against your temple. His hand intertwined with yours, giving it a small squeeze.
And nothing more was said on the matter.
_____
You woke up in his arms, a safe cocoon under the sheets with the morning daylight seeping through the cracks of the closed blinds. Of course, Koushi was already awake.
Sometime throughout the night, you shifted into your current position―head resting on his chest, arm thrown over his torso. You sighed happily as you were met in your waking state with the feeling of his hand on your waist, holding you against him as he thumbed the soft and nightgown clothed skin soothingly, a repeated back and forth.
His morning voice always made you feel different. A little raspy, but still coated in his loving tone, creating butterflies in your stomach. “Mornin’, pretty girl.”
Still wrapped in the comfort of a post sleep haze, you nuzzled your face into his chest. “Mmmn...mornin’.”
If you were looking at him, you’d be able to see his expression that was practically dripping in admiration. You might find his tiredly intimate words and motions endearing, but he found that of yours to be nearly enough to stop his heart.
Really, everything you did had that effect.
...It was a shame he’d have to go without it later tonight.
For now however, he’d let you sleep in. It was the weekend after all, and you needed your beauty rest. That, and he wasn’t about to ruin this moment by discussing the inevitable.
_____
Neither of you had yet to speak of what was soon to come, but that didn’t matter. Not when, even from the moment he got you out of bed, that reality was already having an influence on your day.
Normally, Koushi would opt to dress you in something a little more delicate. He liked the sight of you in a silken nightgown, an earthy pale pink, or pastel blues. Something to represent how fragile he thought you to be. Of course, it was never a practical outfit. But you had nowhere you needed to be, remaining inside his home your only job.
This morning's upgrade of a real dress, one with pockets, double lined and long sleeve, was the first reminder of tonight’s main event. All in all, it was pretty. You liked it, you were grateful for it.
But it only made your chest tighten, an indescribable hint of trepidation taking hold of your being.
The day goes on, you once again settling into routine. It wasn’t hard doing so, especially since now you’ve grown used to how unwavering it is. You actually find it quite nice.
If you forced yourself to step outside of your adopted headspace, it was just barely possible to pinpoint when you became this docile. When the rules Koushi had both mentally and physically beat into you became automatic actions. Or, when they didn’t seem like rules, but more so guidelines for a healthy routine that you genuinely wanted to complete.
Because you did feel healthy. You got plenty of sleep, since you always went to bed when he told you to. You had a balanced diet, because even though Koushi was busy with work, he always managed to prepare you a proper meal. You felt at peace, because you forgot why you were here in the first place.
So, separating from that compliance, and forcing yourself to remember your reality―you’d say it’s been roughly three months since you started to enjoy living with Koushi. And now that you’ve memorized the routine he’s set up for you, you know that when he sits you down on the couch, while he remains standing in front of you before speaking―these are special circumstances.
It’s just after dinner, a little past 5 o’clock. He has yet to help you switch into your evening routine, which normally consists of giving you a task such as reading or drawing to pass the time, until you have to get ready for bed.
You know that he’s looking down at you, but you can’t bring yourself to return his gaze. When you caught a glimpse of it, it only stirred anxiety inside of you. He wasn’t tense. He wasn’t upset. He seemed...casual.
Too casual for the conversation you were about to have.
“I know this is stressful for you, sweetheart. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
Your hands are folded on your lap, nails digging into the skin in an attempt to distract you from the developing worry encasing you.
Much to your dismay, Koushi crouches down in front of you, a hand placed gently atop your knee. Like an adult trying to get on the level of a child, which honestly is what he makes you feel like sometimes when he speaks in such a soft tone. It forces you to look him in the eyes.
He’s right―you could always say no.
Mandatory by law, those like you who are bound to your ‘lover’ by their legal ownership over you must be given a chance to regain independence. However, you’re completely within your rights to deny the offer. Of course, this would mean that for another year you would be stuck with them.
The problem is, many of the individuals who deny the offer no longer find it as being stuck.
You don’t know what you would define it as.
What you do know is that if you go, the odds of making it out with that sense of freedom aren’t very encouraging. Your stamina is all but entirely depleted, given how the most activity you get is by walking throughout the house to either the bathroom, living room or kitchen.
On top of that, you have zero clue where you’d go. Being in the same spot for a year hasn’t exactly done anything for your sense of direction, or your understanding of the city’s layout. And the last time you went outside, the most you saw was the same view from the living room’s window.
Because you only got about ten feet from the back door before Koushi caught you.
That experience didn’t give you anything to help you in trying your hand at tonight’s offer. In fact, it only made things more difficult. The mere thought of what had ensued after he dragged you back inside his home was immobilizing.
It was likely the very reason as to why deciding if you wanted to attempt to leave Koushi was so debilitating. When even thinking of taking a single step outside struck fear into your core.
...
You should say no.
But of course, things would never be that simple. Not now at least.
Those embers of resistance still burned inside of you. Albeit dangerously fleeting, you could just barely recall the indulgences of your past life. A time where you still held that independence, when you could choose to do things for yourself. Small things you took for granted, like fast food or staying up late and binging shows―while the memories were clouded, you could still recognize the feeling they gave you.
Of warmth, or of the mindless pleasure that you used to never think twice about seeking.
A pang of guilt shot through you, realizing how selfish you were for wanting to leave Koushi over that. He’d been so good to you, making sure you barely had to lift a finger. Yet here you were, yearning for things that would only do you harm, a fact he’d repeated countless times in the early days of living with you.
But, tonight was the only night of the year when you got to be a little selfish. The prospect of earning those little independent privileges was strangely like fuel to the nearly burnt out fire of your lingering resistance.
You looked back at the grey haired man, still calmly awaiting an answer.
“N-no, no...I want to do this, I think…”
And there was that smile again, all too soft and gentle for what you could only guess was some well contained detestment for your words. He looked understanding, and to anyone else the way he regarded you would be endearing.
What a loving boyfriend….
If only they knew.
With that, he let you remain on the couch, waiting patiently for his return while he moved momentarily into another room. Soon he returned, and for the first time in a whole year, he let you watch television that wasn’t dumbed down animated shows, or wholesome animal documentaries.
Koushi put on the news, or more specifically, the countdown broadcast to the purge.
_____
You could almost laugh at how rattled simply watching the news made you. It would be amusing, accept your heart was beating too fast, mind racing with worrying thoughts to realize the irony of the situation.
This night was supposed to be your only chance of gaining legal custody of your own independence. You should be beaming. Yet here you were, anxiously bouncing your leg, bottom lip between your teeth as the announcer went on with scripts of how people across the country were preparing for when 6 pm hit.
And Koushi, the one who should be stressed with the possibility of you slipping out of his grasp―he was doing fine.
For the most part, at least.
Sure, a small hint of dread for the highly, and he means highly, unlikely was present in the back of his mind. But Koushi knew you. He knew every single little thing that made you who you were.
Of course he did, he loved you after all.
So that flicker of dread remained almost nonexistent. Because he also knew how this night would end, and that was more than enough to calm his nerves.
Unconsciously, you leaned into Koushi’s side. He was seated right next to you on the middle of the couch. An arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. Your left hand in his and placed on his lap, his fingers not so absentmindedly drawing soothing circles into your skin.
You didn’t see, but his eyes never left your troubled and practically shaking form.
He felt bad for taking pride in the sight.
It meant that you were terrified of leaving him. And you should be, it was so dangerous out there. You didn’t know how to take care of yourself, it’s why he did it for you. So, seeing this proof that in less than ten minutes, you’d be going out into the night alone, had you shivering in fear―it only told him that what he was doing was right.
Yes, it did hurt him to see you so distressed, but you needed to learn your place.
Which was next to him, always.
And when he thought about it, this is how his lessons always went. Koushi would never hurt you unless you deserved it. Unfortunately for you, you tended to do a lot of things that warranted punishment. And he was eager to help you see things his way. Tonight was no different.
You’d never be in any real danger.
He’d never go as far as to permanently damage you in any way.
If you deserved the punishment, then he should be allowed to have a little fun with it.
Both of you were brought out of your respective intense thoughts as the room was bathed in red. The television screen, now vibrantly pigmented in the colour, began playing the annual emergency broadcast, alarms blaring from the speakers.
Koushi saw how you flinched, and like the loving person he was, he reached for the remote to turn down the volume. You were still shaking like a leaf, stare fixated on the bolded words rolling across the screen.
In an attempt to console you, Koushi gently moved a hand onto your shoulder, urging you to lean back into him. Your heart skipped a beat as he placed a kiss on the crown of your head, lingering there for a moment.
He spoke in a delicate whisper, just loud enough that it would drown out the automated announcer from the last broadcast to be had tonight. “...Shhh, you’re alright sweetheart.”
Unconsciously, you nodded with his affirmation, trying to convince yourself of the same thing.
Information continued to dance across the screen. You would have twelve hours, starting at 6 pm, which was in two minutes, to do whatever you needed to obtain your ideal outcome. So would those opposite of you in nature, which didn’t exactly help your chances of fighting for your freedom.
A myriad of other rules and such were listed, most of them being useless to you. It was more so meant for those of the bolder type. What weapons you could use, who you could injure, and how far you could take things.
You didn’t want to hurt anybody. You just wanted to go back to how things were before naively falling for Koushi’s trap―or at least that’s what you thought. The whole decision still felt a little cloudy in your mind, even now.
Abruptly, the television stopped it’s recount of the mandatory notice. The red returned to black, because for one, there was nothing more to and. And, because Koushi had turned off the TV, the resounding click bringing you back to reality.
Neither of you moved as the countrywide sirens rang out. The fixed speakers outside sounded off, letting everyone who wasn’t tuning into the news segment that finally, the purge had begun.
Your gaze remained fixed on the floor, feeling like it was taking an eternity for the roaring noises to cease. Eventually they did, leaving you and Koushi with the silence of the living room, the hushed sounds of a crackling fireplace being the only thing to meet your ears.
Naturally, he has to do everything for you. And, naturally, he doesn’t mind.
“C’mon, sweet girl.”
Carefully, so as not to scare you more than you already clearly were, Koushi pulled you off the couch. Not moving too quickly, he kept your hand held firmly in his as he led you to the front door.
You couldn’t remember the last time you got this close to the entrance. His various methods of reprimand doing wonders to keep you from drawing near it. Sometimes, even looking at the door was something you feared.
But now, here you were, standing right in front of it.
You followed Koushi’s movements, your hand falling at your side as he released it to begin undoing the excessive amount of locks.
Not excessive to him of course, anything to keep his perfect little girl safe.
The quiet beeping of the door’s alarm was the only thing to be heard aside from the noise of your heart beating in your chest, the sound reverberating in your skull. Then came the manual locks, Koushi’s hand reaching into his pocket to grab the keyring.
With each lock coming undone, your mindset continued to spiral.
You can’t do this. It’s too much to handle. You have no clue where to go, or where to hide.
And the comfort that he provides―you really do like it.
How he touches you, tender and lovingly, able to feel with every movement how much he cares for you. When he wraps you in his arms, that familiar and comforting smell that’s so undeniably Koushi sedating those thoughts at unease. He speaks to you, always saying the right things, so softly.
You realized that lately, there was nothing to worry about with him.
But you would lose all you earned the second you stepped out of his home.
Yet, as he finishes with the locks and turns back to you, it doesn’t feel like you’ll lose anything.
Not as in, once you leave, his presence will be gone, and that you’ll never have to experience it after you make it out of this night with your freedom.
Rather, once you fail, he’ll be waiting, ready to snuff out those pangs of anguish you’re feeling right now, just like he always does. That kind of comfort didn’t seem to be going anywhere.
The thought alone was enough to quell many of your concerns.
Koushi stepped towards you, his hands reaching for you, finding their destination in gingerly cupping your face. Nervously, your eyes flitted from his frame to the door’s handle.
The man in front of you sighed slightly, taking in the details of your expression. The furrow of your brows, how you had trouble focusing on any one thing while a plethora of thoughts raced through your mind.
He liked knowing how much this was bothering you. Showing that at the end of the day, you were more dependent on him than you realized.
Koushi was the first to speak, you tensing at the startling noise.
“I’m not forcing you to do this, sweetheart. You know you don’t have to go out there.”
He studied you intently, and you felt the urge to shrink from his focused gaze. It would be so easy to just stay home. To curl up with Koushi in front of the fireplace, relax into his arms as the night went by.
But as you looked back to the unlocked door once more, you knew that wasn’t an option.
“I do have to, I’m sorry…”
You didn’t know if you were apologizing to him, or to yourself.
Koushi smiled, a thumb momentarily caressing your cheekbone before pulling away.
“Well, then―I’ve got something for you.” His hand once again fished around in his pocket before pulling out the object in question.
Your eyes landed on it immediately―a burner phone.
It was simple, a black flip phone, old model and with little use aside from calls and texts that took far too long to type out on its inconvenient keyboard.
Koushi stood next to you, a hand resting on the small of your back as he flipped the device open. The artificial glow of the screen illuminated your face while he held it open for you to observe.
“My number is on speed dial, just press here―” he went through the motions slowly, letting you follow the steps he was taking, “―and you’ll be able to call whenever you need me.”
Slowly you nodded, amazed at the prospect of using an electronic, even an ancient one. You hadn’t touched a phone in so long.
Koushi slipped the device into the pocket of your dress, choosing to face you once again. This time he gripped your shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze to grab your attention. “If you can’t handle being out there, promise that you’ll call me.”
For the first time this night, you looked him in the eyes. Those full of compassion and care, you not knowing the feelings they hid from you.
“...I will, Koushi.”
A moment of silence lingered in between the two of you, and before you could make any first move, his lips were softly connecting with yours.
An action full of devotion, you had no choice but to melt into it. Because now, it no longer caused discomfort to eat away at your system, but the exact opposite.
When his lips parted from yours, instead of immediately letting go, Koushi pulled you into his embrace. His arms wrapped around your waist, your head settling into the crook of his neck.
You finally realized that there had been tears slipping down your cheeks this whole time.
His voice sent shivers down your spine, spoken against the shell of your ear. “I love you, so much…”
Your hands gripped his shirt tightly in response.
“...But, you won’t stand a chance out there.”
An odd choice of words, while although it did send an icy fear throughout your body, it still made you want to go out there and prove him wrong.
Whether or not he realized that fact was beyond you.
Koushi pulled away, not before pressing a final kiss on your cheek. His hand reached for the doorknob, turning, and swinging it open.
The cold air of the evening hit your body, the sun rapidly setting on the horizon. It brought about a new sense of coldness to go along with that which was stirred by your anxieties. Breaking your attention away from the outdoors that lay just a few feet away, Koushi voiced his plans.
“Alright, pretty girl. I’ll give you an hour as a head start, sound good?”
Silently, because you couldn’t form the words to make a response with an impossible lump in your throat, you nodded. But you still remained in place.
Waiting for his permission.
He smiled at your expectant behaviour.
Koushi waved a hand, gesturing to the outdoors. “...Go on, now.”
Hesitantly, still greatly unsure of your own decision, you did as he said. Feeling almost light, with your body seemingly moving on its own, you stepped through what, up until now, was a forbidden threshold.
The breeze in the air made your dress flow, the feeling of the forceful chill against the bare skin of your legs a foreign sensation after all this time. You could hear the sounds of crickets chirping in the grass, many living past the tree-line of the forest surrounding his home.
The sun was what you were least expecting.
Just barely managing to peek through the mostly overcast sky, its intense rays landed upon your skin. You could feel its heat, a warmth contrasting the fall temperatures. Tilting your head up slightly, you closed your eyes to bask in its natural gift.
But as soon as it came, the sensation was gone.
The sky fully clouded over, leaving you in the cold, and in a darkness threatening to grow worse as each second ticked by. Still battling an inner turmoil to go through with your wants, you turned around to face Koushi one last time.
Still at the front entrance, he was bathed in the inviting warm light coming from inside the house. He made no more moves to sway you in any which direction. Instead, he simply stood in the doorway, casually leaning against it with his hands in his pockets.
That’s when it dawned on you.
You were wasting time.
No wonder he was so calm. Letting you spend precious seconds getting nowhere.
Your eyes met his. Koushi gave you that signature smile that suddenly wasn’t so comforting.
And then, you were gone.
_____
Your heart was thudding loudly in your chest, desperate gulps of air entering and exiting your already exhausted system. Previous calculations on the few strengths you’d have going for you, and the many weaknesses holding you back were correct.
After less than two minutes of running, you already had to reduce yourself to a walking pace.
Your limbs felt increasingly strained at the sudden exertion, calves aching and lungs burning. Once you slowed down and your wits returned, you noticed the particularly painful sensation in your feet.
Koushi failed to give you proper shoes for the night's events, instead leaving you in your fairly thin lined slippers that now weren’t even good enough to keep out the chill.
Or perhaps, he did that on purpose?
Those facts didn’t quite matter at the moment. You had finally reached the edge of the city, making good time as you didn’t have the need to make it there under the cover of the forest. A quick glance at your burner phone would tell you that you still had fifteen minutes of free time, so there was no problem being out in the open as you took to the road to reach your destination.
The stretches of trees were replaced with encroaching buildings, starting out small and changing into impressive structures as you ventured further into the city.
Overall, it was quiet. Aside from a few stray pieces of litter blowing in the wind, there was nobody out on the streets aside from yourself. Really, many people didn’t have a reason to be out. Not everyone had someone to be running from, or oppositely, had someone to be running after. If you didn’t fall into either of those two categories, then you had no reason not to stay inside.
After all, getting in someone’s way could mean risking your life.
This constant and looming reality, that the only reason why you were out was because of these special circumstances―it didn’t exactly make you feel any better.
Even as you caught your breath, your heart remained beating rapidly inside your chest. Your feet stumbled awkwardly along the sidewalk, wincing with each shot of pain that ran up your legs.
You only paused when your eyes landed on red and bolded graffiti on the side of a boarded up shop.
“KNOW YOUR PLACE.”
However, you failed to understand what that was anymore.
The sudden noise of a shrill scream sounding from some indiscernible place brought you startlingly out of your focus on the graffiti. The noise bounced off of the brick walls of buildings around you. Your head whipped from side to side, trying to understand where it was coming from.
Only, it felt like the screams were all around you.
Your hands were clenched into tight fists, nails indenting crescent moons into the skin of your palms. The wails lasted for a mere five or so seconds, but it felt like minutes with how your distress was only amplifying your panicked reaction.
In that state of immense internal torment, you unable to think of any one decision for yourself, your body once again acted on it’s own. Fight or flight senses kicking in, favouring the latter, you bolted away from what you were most sure was the best direction away from the screaming.
Really it was all you could do. Staying in one spot, frozen with fear that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, wouldn’t do a single thing for you. Even if you didn’t know the exact destination of your travels, all you knew was that you had to put as much distance as possible between you and Koushi’s home.
So you ran, only to once again forget just how ill equipped you were.
The street lights went by in a blur, wind whipping past you. The first bead of sweat trickled down your face as you willed yourself to keep moving. Not even a minute in and you were slowing to a stop, leaning against the side of a building.
You could’ve passed out right then and there, with the weight of your exhaustion, and your weakening mindset crashing down on you. But if you stopped, you knew that you’d likely never be on the winning side of this night.
Still trying to catch your breath, you used this time to pull out your burner phone. Flipping the small device open, you winced at the bright and artificial glow that you were so unaccustomed to, especially in the darkening light of the evening.
Your eyes landed on the clock, front and center of the compact screen.
7:00 pm.
The head start was up.
_____
A quiet playing of jazz music lingered in the background of the kitchen, the pinks and oranges of a setting sun behind the clouds casting part of the room in a warm hue. Methodically, and humming to himself, Koushi was drying the dishes from the dinner he had with you, fondly recalling how breathtaking you looked in your new dress.
He took a quick glance at the clock after putting the last cleaned dish in the cupboard, making sure to lock the small door shut. The device mounted on the wall told him it was nearing quarter to eight.
Expectantly, his phone rang in his pocket, him not even needing to look at the caller ID before answering. Especially not when the voice on the other line spoke before he could even get a word out.
“You still need me for tonight?”
Koushi slung the cup towel over his shoulder, leaning against the granite countertop. “Daichi, I’d really appreciate the help if you’re still up for it. I understand if you can’t though―”
“You had my back last year, the least I can do is return the favour.”
Softly, Koushi laughed a little to himself, remembering how frustrated his friend was, unable to control his other half.
He nodded, gazing out the window as he spoke. “Well then, do you remember what I said or should we go through it again?”
On the other line, he heard some indistinct rustling, paying to mind to it. “That’s alright, I know how important this is to you. Couldn’t forget it even if I tried.”
That brought a chuckle out of both of them, Daichi continuing soon after.
“I’ll get going then, gotta handle a few things first.”
This time, Koushi could make out the distinct noise of a car trunk slamming shut. Meaning his friend was already on his way to set up.
“...Of course. Thanks again, by the way.”
He heard what sounded like keys jingling, “No problem, talk to you later.”
With that, Koushi ended the call. Phone still on, he was left to look at the last app he had open, the screen still giving him live information by the second. Satisfied with what he saw, he excited the tracking software, swiftly pocketing the phone.          
Grabbing the still somewhat full wine glass on the countertop, Koushi made his way to the living room. Relaxing into the couch with a relieved sigh, he resigned himself to a waiting game, knowing it’d only be so long until he had you back, safe and wrapped in his arms.
Just where you should be.
_____
There weren’t many options: either hide in the shadows, and be at risk for unsuspected attacks, or remain in the safety of the street lights, exposed to any and all onlookers. Looking over your shoulder, not quite eyeing any one thing that meant certain danger, you chose the latter.
When the screams around you finally died down, fading into the background as you left it in the dust behind you, the sound of a distant rumbling came to the forefront. With a quick glance up, you could see that, even in the dimming light of the evening, the clouds above were growing thicker. Darkening and swirling in the sky, you knew that soon a storm would be upon you.
As the earthy aroma of approaching rain permeated your senses, your heart longed for the comfort back home. If it weren’t for that nearly indescribable need to keep moving away from Koushi, you’d be back there. Probably relaxing on the couch, a sedating melody coming from the record player. Another perfect Saturday night spent in your lovers presence.
You could practically feel the heat of the fireplace on your face if you focused hard enough.
However, that heat wasn’t coming from such a sanctuary, one who knows how many kilometers away by now. Rather, from the burning building in front of you.
Snapping out of that reminiscent trance, you came to an abrupt stop. Squinting a bit at the bright and flaming scene, you could just barely discern that the building was a police station.
The sight only brought a small quirk to your lips, knowing how useless they were to those like you.
Turning away from the building, you trained your goals on moving in the same direction, fearful of getting turned around and accidentally heading back towards home. Things once again fell into silence, only the sound of a looming and encroaching storm meeting your ears every ten minutes or so. Fatigue had set in long ago, leaving your steps sluggish, fighting every muscle in your body to keep up a consistent pace. Even if you weren’t moving fast, you were still moving.
Except, that too grew nearly impossible to reasonably manage.
The further you walked, the more disturbing sights you came upon. It seemed like all at once, things were hitting the fan. Corrupt scenes unfolding around you being horrifying to no ends.
Exiting an alleyway, the first thing you saw was a man stuffing a body into the trunk of a car. You couldn’t tell who the person was, or whether they were even alive. But those details weren’t remotely feasible, as the perpetrator caught you in his gaze.
Seeing your frozen stature, face riddled with fear, he only laughed to himself.
You were no threat to the claims of the night, so he dismissed you with ease. Leaving you in his wake as he drove off, you stayed put for an unknown amount of minutes.
The terrifying truth of what you were was unavoidable, and damn near immobilizing. Weak in everyone’s eyes, often your own included.
At some point you found the will to start moving again, only to soon pause for a breather. Mostly to ground yourself, you checked the time on your temporary phone.
It read just half past nine. In normal circumstances, you’d be in bed; or getting ready for bed, at the least. As a few droplets began falling from the now pitch black sky, you longed for safety under the covers of your bed. Bundled in soft blankets, a dry nightgown, and the soothingly mellow voice of Koushi next to you. Every night, without fail, he’d always remind you of how much he loved you, helping you fall fast asleep under the calmness he provided.
A shiver wracked your body, heart aching for his safety. Your finger hovered over the call button, one movement away from being scooped up by your saviour.
Your body was jolted out of the thought before you could bother with such a surrender.
Someone―a young girl, maybe in her early twenties, desperately clutched the sleeves of your dress. She looked up at you, expression riddled with a bone chilling dread. “Please help me! He’s...he’s trying to―”
Yet, just as she was about to finish, another set of hands painfully grasped your shoulders. A split second later and you were being thrown into the side of a building.
A man was yelling at you, quite loudly at that. Or maybe he was yelling at the girl―with the way you were sobbing, panic shutting down your better senses, it was too hard to tell. You couldn’t quite hear any one thing, the world falling into silence as the anxieties resting in your system spiked violently.
Your brain didn’t even register that you had bolted into a sprint. Not until, sheerly because your body couldn’t handle taking another step until you gave it at least a little break, you stopped, almost falling to your knees with how drained you were. Barely, you managed to keep yourself upright by leaning against a lamp post.
In that moment, there was only one thing going through your mind.
You wanted to go home.
Koushi’s home, which just as much belonged to you as it did him. That’s where you were meant to be. Not out here, by yourself in the middle of the night, rain coming down around you. Even if it was light, the slight dampness in your clothing had you convulsing in cold bodied trembles.
The phone was still clutched tightly in your hand. You knew what you needed to do.
And as the noise of gunshots rang out in the direction you came from, your plans shifted to do just that.
Shaken to your core, you shuffled into an alleyway. Seeking the refuge of a shelter to make that fated call, you blindly ventured deeper into the narrow passage. The saving grace that were streetlamp lights disappeared behind you, remnants of its glow doing little to help you see where you were going.
Doing nothing to help you see the trap you were walking directly into.
All at once, your knees buckled under you, a net you had stepped into lurching upwards. A shriek escaped your being as the intertwined rope cased around you, hoisting you into the air. Suspended only five five or so feet off the ground, the height wasn’t what sent terror coursing through your veins.
It was the fact that you were trapped, no amount of struggling enough to free you. And, because your phone had slipped out of your hand, through the holes of the net, and onto the pavement beneath you.
Out of reach, leaving you helpless to the whims of your sudden captor.
Just like that, the repeated calling for your lover spilled from your lips. Petrified in every sense, you wailed for Koushi to come and save you. Pleading cries for help were repeated until your throat grew hoarse. You only stopped when you physically couldn’t catch your breath.
But even that ceased as well, when a tall figure came into view.
You blearily wiped away the wetness pooling in your eyes, body uncomfortably folded by the sinch of the net as what looked to be a man stalked towards you.
“...Little things like you really shouldn’t be out on a night like this.”
As he drew closer, you could make out the short cut of his hazelnut hair, chiseled features, a broad frame shielded from the downpour by a waterproof jacket. Slowly, the stranger leaned down, picking up your fallen burner phone.
A small whimper escaped you, “Please…”
The deep baritone of his voice shook you as he spoke, “What, looking for this?” Mockingly, he waved the flimsy device back and forth, just out of arm's reach from you. He lowly chuckled to himself at the severely distraught look you gave him, and at the lifeline that was your phone.
The phone that, taking it in both hands, he snapped in half with ease.
Eyes blown wide, you watched in silent horror as the man tossed the unusable device aside, the noise of it clattering to the ground bouncing off the walls of the alleyway. Before you could even register what had happened, what was going to happen, the man was right in front of you.
You couldn’t even think of what to do or say as his hand reached through an opening in the net, harshly gripping your jaw and forcing you to face him.
His lips were pulled into a small and menacing grin, unspoken notions of his intentions laced into the way he regarded you as prey. A quiet hum resonated from him, scanning your features intently. Not before turning your head to the side ever so slightly, seemingly confirming what he already knew, he spoke up once again.
“...No wonder he loves you.”
The glint of a pocket knife flashed before your eyes, and a second later you were crashing to the ground. With the ropes holding you up now severed, the net fell down around you. As soon as you could stretch out your limbs, you were mindlessly scrambling away.
Your better intuitions were completely clouded over, escape once again being the only thing your body could try to achieve.
“Stop fucking struggling.” The words met your ears as an iron grasp wrapped around your ankle, roughly dragging you back to that spot a few feet away from your position, where you’d only just crawled from.
The assailant flipped you onto your back, “What the hell are you gonna do anyways? You’re not made to fight people like me off.” Strangled sobs left your system as he settled in between your legs, his hand gripping your throat. “I could snap your bones like a fucking twig, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.”
You attempted to sputter out a response, anything to deter the man who was unashamedly handling your much weaker body. Yet, the second your lips parted, a sharp sting bled across your cheek.
“What a dumb little girl you are―dumb enough to walk right into an obvious trap.”
As the glint of a blade returned, you could do nothing but lay there as the sharp edge ripped through the fabric of your dress. The front of it fell open, leaving your bare chest exposed to his eyes, save for the bra being the only thing to defend you.
You didn’t see the knife disappear, only knowing it had gone somewhere when his now free hand groped your breast.
“I mean, what the fuck did you think was going to happen coming out tonight?” The man above you laughed to himself, knowing you were too scared out of your mind to respond.
Meaning his orders were playing out as expected.
The grip on your throat tightened, leading you to space out as he continued the one sided and condescending conversation. “I bet you could’ve avoided this too. Poor thing―too stupid to get out of her own way.”
The pleading request repeated over and over in your mind, but you couldn’t force yourself to speak it. As another smack collided with your cheek, hearing going out in the ear that was affected by the force, those spiralling thoughts got worse, a nauseating feeling rolling in your stomach.
Pleasepleaseplease just stop.
All you wanted was to go home. You should’ve never left. You should’ve never tried to leave Koushi.
Why would you ever want to do that?
Finding yourself growing lightheaded, unable to take in enough oxygen to keep yourself conscious, you felt something inside of you disappear.
If you could describe it, the sensation would be like a sudden dislodge. Relieving, a weight on your body, one that wasn’t caused by a man pressing into you, vanishing entirely.
You still didn’t feel calm, system remaining corrupted with a near crushing fright in your drifting state. But whatever familiar sense of trepidation you once suffered from was now gone.
Hands falling limp at your sides, exhaustion finally getting the better of you as you no longer had it in you to fight off the stranger choking you out, your eyelids fluttered shut. You didn’t want to stop struggling, to give up against this seemingly unstoppable force, but you didn’t have much choice, did you?
Only, a violent and haggard fit of coughs spewed from you as the suffocating force pinning you down disappeared.
Breath quick, your intake and outtake of much needed air stuttering, you heaved weakly against the wet pavement. The first thing that flooded your senses was the patter of the rain hitting the ground around you. Then, it was the feeling of that rain landing on the skin of your face. Cold and cooling, easing the burning ache of your cheeks that had been repeatedly battered just moments ago.
As your eyes closed to bask in the relieving sensation, the droplets against you left, yet still the sound of rain falling down around you remained.
Upon opening your eyes, a swell of emotions ran over you. Tufts of grey hair hung above you, a deeply worried expression of the man you loved regarding your worn out and still shaking form.
“...K-Koushi?”
If it weren’t for the rain, both of you would know full well that the water streaming down your face wasn’t from the night’s downpour. But the hitch in your voice, the tremble in your lower lip―both served as clear displays of the anguish you experienced.
His hands cupped your face, gentle as always, especially now so as not to put pressure on the tender skin. Even with the commotion of the storm beating down around the two of you, his voice was as clear as day.
“I’m right here, pretty girl.”
_____
The silence that the sanctuary of Koushi’s home, your home, brought about was like balm to your oversensitive state. It wasn’t a deafening silence, per se. Because here and there, it still carried symphonies of the outside world, while the world right at your fingertips brought ones of safety inside such sturdy walls. Whether it be the muffled noises of overhead thunder, or the soothing sounds of rippling water as your fingers danced mindlessly underneath its surface.
The heat of the freshly drawn bath was doing wonders for your strained muscles, now feeling limp in Koushi’s arms as he held you from behind. With a deep sigh, lungs still burning from previous exertion, you leaned into him. It was easy to melt into the secondary warmth he provided, your partially bruised back pressing into his chest.
With the night’s activities washed from your bodies, you needed only to bask in the presence of the man you once feared you lost. The shift from one extreme to another, immobilizing terror to heart wrenching relief―nothing had ever made your head spin faster.
Now, while you let the humidity of the bathroom seep into your skin, the sweet scent of body wash meeting your senses, the invisible weight of guilt remained burning. Your eyebrows stayed knitted, a look of worry that Koushi couldn’t see.
But little did you know, he knew it’s what you felt. He knew everything about you, right down to the last little detail. So he wasn’t surprised in the slightest when your meek voice broke through the silence, spoken in a volume just barely above a whisper, purely because your vocal cords were shot from when he heard you calling for him only an hour ago.
“...I really am sorry, Koushi.”
He wrapped his arms around you tighter, thumb running back and forth against the bare skin of your arm. “If you’re sorry, then you’ll let me take care of you. No more messing around.”
...
It’s not that you didn’t want to let Koushi do as he pleased, it was that you didn’t know why he wished to do it in the first place. Even after all the time he’d spent devoted to tending to your every last need, the reasons as to why he did so could never quite stick.
You never asked him for any of this. He just assumed the role of your caretaker without batting an eye. It was obvious he cared about you, but still you had issues accepting his motivation for it.
Letting out a shaky breath, you spoke once again. “I just...I don’t understand why you want to so badly. It doesn’t make any sense, and―”
“I do it because I’m in love with you, isn’t it obvious?”
The playfulness in his questioning tone didn’t go unnoticed, but it still didn’t exactly calm all of your anxieties. At least, not until he continued with his speech, his actions following up with affirmations.
Your head rested against his shoulder as his hands wandered, mapping out the sensitivities of your body, starting where they rested near your chest.
“I have been since the moment I laid eyes on you, sweetheart…”
When his hands found purchase on your waist, tenderly squeezing the plush skin, you harshly sucked in a breath of air. He kneaded the tense muscles of your body, speaking low, but still sending shivers down your spine at it’s proximity.
“All of your little quirks, your gentleness, how delicate you are...You’re so impossibly perfect.”
Pausing, Koushi pressed a light kiss against your temple, “...Of course I want to take care of you.”
With each word spoken, every syllable filled with innate devotion, your mind of worrying thoughts surrendered to him. Not given much choice in the matter, and not wanting to choose any alternative if there was one, you let his admiration slowly consume you whole.
“I wanna make sure nobody can hurt you, make sure you get what you deserve…”
Koushi’s hands drifted lower, deft fingers lightly trailing your body, teasing touches only serving to stir another type of heat inside you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him cup your heat, middle finger gently pressing in between your folds.
“...And, that you get what you need.”
You softly whimpered as the pads of his fingers came into contact with your clit, the exhaustion you felt amplifying your sensitive nerves. Applying just the right amount of pressure, and in the perfect spot that had you yearning for more, Koushi skilfully circled the puffy nub.
He smiled to himself as you weakly squirmed in his hold, knowing that in your state, this was the finishing touch to his game. One that he’d been playing since the day he met you, and that now was about to reach its end. Where he’d finally have you right where he wanted you, and you’d both be happy for a long time to come.
Removing the pressure from his ministrations, he bowed his head so that his lips were just ghosting the shell of your ear.
“Tell me what you need, pretty girl.”
Tears pricking in your eyes at the carnal desire you felt from even the slightest of touches, you found yourself near immediately calling for him, begging for his help without a hint of recollection from the memory that held resemblance.
“Please Koushi...I need you.”
With those small and desperate pleas, Koushi found that there was nothing he wanted to hear more in that moment. The desperation laced in your tone was the sweetest thing he’d ever listened to, and so he vowed to himself that he’d make you repeat those wanton admissions time and time again. As often as he needed them, and as often as you needed him. Which would be in your every waking second from now on, finally.
He couldn’t help but encourage you even more, the sound of your whimpers as his fingers worked you over being the most addictive drug.
“That’s it...I’ll give you everything you need. All you have to do is let me―you can do that, right?”
Only wanting to please him more, full body acceptance gripping your being, you responded by quickly nodding, incoherent words escaping you without thought.
Koushi could only laugh at your reaction, adorable in every sense. But, he wanted to hear you say it, ever the demanding one, and always wanting you to play by his rules.
Knowing you were teetering on the edge of release, his fingers slowed their pace, relenting to an achingly teasing method of feathered touches. He spoke one last question, something to finalize his long maintained agenda, goals set on crystallizing your reality for the both of you.
“Promise that you’ll let me care for you, no matter what.”
At his question, the only thing more powerful than the feelings burning inside of you from his sinfully skilled movements was how you felt about him.
The way he made you feel safe, even on the darkest of nights. How he wrapped you in an embrace that would snuff out the flames of self-doubt without fail, each and every time. He never missed a single thing about you, from the obvious outward traits, to the hidden emotions that suddenly didn’t seem like things you needed to conceal―not with him.
There wasn’t a single think about Koushi that you could bring yourself to hate.
Because right then, you loved him, just as much as he loved you.
Koushi felt like home. He was your home.
A home you never had until now. And one you never wanted to leave.
Resigning yourself to him completely, leaving not a single thing that would keep you from submitting to his passion, you held nothing back. Forever and always, you would give yourself up to him, content at the knowledge that you hadn’t a thing to fret over so as long as you were with him
“...I promise.”
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rfaromance · 2 years
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day 1: begonia - beware
The fresh vase of flowers on bedside table was what their eyes first spotted upon waking up.
Rubbing their eyes in a half-asleep, half-awake stupor, the blonde rose to a sitting position, not quite eager to get out of bed but also not wanting to sleep any longer as sunlight filtered into the room through a pair of thin, pastel pink curtains.
"Good morning, my sweet Rose," a soft voice cooed from the other side of the room. Rose wearily turned their head to peer at the source, and a smile blossomed on their lips as they saw the all-too-familiar figure of a dear friend rummaging around in the closet.
"Ray," they hummed. "You're here so early." Slightly puzzled, they cast a quick glance at the window again, then back at the white-haired young man who stood with his thin arms full of all sorts of outfits and pieces, accessories and ensembles. "You're here!" Rose gasped, finally realizing the significance of seeing Ray in their room.
Hastily they swung their legs over the side of the bed, but Ray raised a single finger to gesture for them to stop. Obediently, Rose stayed put, but the yearning look in their eyes burned so intensely that Ray could almost feel the heat from where he stood by the closet.
After hanging up each and every garment in a neat and tidy fashion, Ray turned to walk over to Rose, whose previous expression of confusion and concern turned to one not unlike an eager puppy, delighted to see their beloved master after he was absent all day at work.
Except that day at work had been an entire week, now, leaving Rose a little more perplexed and a little more lonely than they would have cared to admit.
Perhaps they didn't even realize how empty this room felt when Ray was gone, until he had returned again to make it feel whole.
"Did you miss me, my little flowerbud?" Ray murmured as he finally came up to the side of the bed. He kneeled down in front of the blonde and gently lifted their right hand, cupping it between both of his. "I'm sorry, so sorry for leaving you for such a long time. I tried to message you at every free moment I had, but..." His voice trailed off wistfully. "Those moments were few and far between."
Rose shook their head rapidly, wanting to dispel his worries. "I know you're busy," they tried to reassure him. "It's okay. I feel bad that you're working so much." Their lower lip slowly slipped into a pout. "You make sure I have the fluffiest bed and the freshest meals and the prettiest flowers, but I don't even know if you're sleeping or eating or have anything to look at in your office...."
Ray tutted softly and let go of their hand so that he could begin to twirl their long, silky blonde locks in between his gloved fingers. "You don't need to worry about me," he told them. "But I would be lying if I said I dislike it when you give me so much attention."
"Why wouldn't I?"
An innocent, straightforward question.
Ray tilted his head back so he could look directly into their eyes. A pale blue drowned in the seas of sorrow, meeting the warm and welcoming embrace of glittering green, of a naivety that still had faith in this wretched world.
Or at least, faith in one person in this world.
"Nobody ever has," Ray replied simply. He furrowed his brow slightly as he began to inspect the ends of Rose's hair. "I think you're in need of a trim, little bud," he murmured. "It'll make these ends fresh and lively again. Like a hedge in need of pruning."
Rose nodded slowly in agreement. "Okay. If that's what you think." They smiled warmly at him, another expression of innocence and light that made his heart flutter inside his chest.
A light that he had no desire to share with anyone else, lest they try to steal it away--or worse, snuff it out.
"I'll arrange for it at once," Ray informed Rose with a brisk nod. As he rose to his feet again, however, he felt a slight tug at the end of his coat sleeve.
"You're leaving already?" It wasn't an accusatory question; in fact, Rose sounded upset more than anything else.
"I'm afraid so. Savior needs help with certain arrangements, so I must continue to work my hardest for her sake." His gaze softened. "Just like I need you to continue testing my game, for my sake. Are you not having fun?" he asked suddenly, a hint of concern edging his tone.
"It's a really good game!" Rose exclaimed at once. "But... it's not the same as being with you." The blonde didn't blush all too often, but the soft carnation hue that rose to their cheeks at that moment was... extremely endearing. "Can't I play in your office?"
Ray chuckled softly and shook his head. "Have you been considering joining us, then?"
Rose suddenly dropped their gaze to the floor, unable to meet the curiosity burning in Ray's eyes. Curiosity and... something else. "You said it wouldn't be hard, right?"
"Not at all," he reassured them with a hum. "Savior would be delighted... as would I."
A soft sigh left Rose's lips-- a sign that they were in deep thought. They were usually so quick to go along with Ray's wishes, so compliant, so ready to make him happy. Their desire to be close to him, to keep him near, whether it meant holding him here in this bedroom or following him to his office... all of these were wonderful signs for Ray, constantly validating his choice.
He couldn't have picked a more beautiful bud from the garden to grow under his care.
"What's on your mind, my dear?" Ray prompted gently. If Rose was hesitating this much, something must have truly been bothering them, because they weren't usually one to put too much thought into their decision-making. They were trusting, almost painfully so, and that was all the more reason why Ray needed to make sure the RFA didn't take advantage of that.
The sooner he could save them, the better.
"I don't remember what these flowers are," Rose confessed at last. "I worked as a florist for so long, so I don't know why I'm having so much trouble." They wrinkled their nose as they inspected the blooms more closely.
"Oh, those?" Ray walked back over to Rose's side, where he could gently stroke the side of one of the petals. "Begonias, my sweet Rose."
"And what do those symbolize, again?"
Ray reached over to brush a loose strand of hair behind their ear before standing up and heading back towards the door.
"They mean that you can trust me to always do what's best for you."
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You Marked More Than Just My Skin - Supercorp
Read it on AO3
Kara’s first instinct was to blame Alex because, if she was going to be honest, Alex was the one to blame for many of her stupid decisions. Sisters' competitive nature or something like that. That's what their mother would say when they were teenagers and they randomly started a fight. A just adopted Kara who had just lost her parents was not letting an overly cocky Alex win without fighting back.
So, naturally, she was going to blame Alex for this. However, Alex had nothing to do with Kara walking down the street from her job one day and entering the tattoo shop she walked past by every day on her way home. No, it had started with Winn, her best friend, saying that Kara wasn’t the type of person to do things out of impulse. Which he wasn’t exactly wrong, although he hit a sore spot because "I can be very spontaneous!" had been Kara’s answer and everyone around them gave her that look that made it pretty clear no one believed her.
Then, just about a week after that, Nia was walking home with her after a stop at Noonan's for their killer milkshake and saw the tattoo shop still open even if it was past 10 pm. There was no one inside that they could see, but the sign read "open" in neon letters and Nia did a double-take when she saw the walls covered in drawings.
"Oh, my God! Look at that thing!" she had screamed. And that thing was a fairly beautiful drawing of a girl lying in bed with a cloud above her head as though she was dreaming about a myriad of things.
Nia grabbed her arm, dragged her inside and, ten minutes later, she was sitting on a chair while a young man that couldn't be older than Kara permanently marked the skin on her forearm with the same drawing.
"Did you draw it?" Nia asked and Kara could tell she was just a little bit in pain because she was clutching the arm of the chair and hadn’t stopped babbling for two seconds. Not that Nia ever stopped talking, actually.
"No," the man replied in an excited voice. Like he was happy to be doing a tattoo on a girl that had just ten minutes prior decided she wanted one. But Kara held back her tongue, took some pictures while Nia made her goofy faces and sat on a stool at the corner like the good friend she was. "My boss did. She does most of the drawings we have available."
"Well, she has a hell of a talent!" Nia exclaimed, bit her lip when the needle hit a soft spot and flashed another smile once it was gone. "You should tell her she's amazing!"
Jack, that was his name, Kara reminded herself, laughed like that was a big joke that only he was aware of, but nodded all the same. "She's in the office right now, maybe she will stop by to hear you say that. She loves when people pick her drawings, but she will never say it out loud."
The woman, whoever she was, didn’t leave her office, not even when they left, way past midnight, listening to Jack's careful instructions on how to take care of Nia's arm for the next week. In the end, Kara had to admit Jack was a nice guy. And he did an excellent job. Nia's tattoo was perfect. Perfect for her and perfectly done, and her friend had no problem showing it off the next day.
"Holy crap!" Winn screamed when he saw it on game night on Friday. "I didn't know you were into tattoos. It looks awesome!"
"Thank you! And I just decided to do it," Nia shrugged, as though deciding to do a tattoo on a Wednesday night at 10 pm after getting a milkshake was a normal thing. "Thank Goddess Kara was with me so she could keep me company."
"Wait," Winn eyed Kara with the same incredulous expression from a week before and she immediately felt defensive. "Kara was there and didn't try to stop you?"
"She did say I might regret it," Nia conceded with a smile. "About ten times, but she stayed with me."
Kara rolled her eyes, picked up the pizza box and sulked on the couch while her friends made fun of her lack of spontaneous nature. Kara was a planner. And she had learned her lesson when she decided to walk to the park instead of going home one day after school and returned to the Danvers' household to find out three police cars parked at the street and a frantic Eliza giving them a photo of her and saying she had disappeared. So, yes, Kara wasn't one to do things out of the blue anymore, but that was hardly a bad thing.
She tried to tell that to herself for the next week while everyone still awed and cooed at Nia's tattoo. She tried to remind herself of Eliza's panicked face while James, with his impressive looking dragon tattoo on his back, said Kara would never be one to make a tattoo because she would keep changing her mind. She tried to picture Alex's disapproving stare while Nia's boyfriend, Querl, made comments on how he loved Nia's carefree and spontaneous nature.
In the end, what pushed her to do it was her boss and Kara couldn’t even blame her, or Alex, or any of her friends. But she would, anyway.
"Kiera, the reason why people hardly remember your name-" she wanted to point out that Cat was the only one who had a hard time remembering her name but bit her tongue instead "-is because you are so... blank."
"Blank?" Kara had asked, trying and failing not to look so offended.
And Cat nodded because she knew how to get to her. "Nothing remarkable. You use terrible sweaters and write articles that everyone could write. Did you ever do something, I don’t know, remotely spontaneous in your life?"
Kara was sure - or almost sure because you can never know with Cat Grant - that her boss was trying to push her to fly to Midvale to write about the scandal surrounding some tech company there even though Snapper had decided William would cover that for CatCo. It was either that or to make her wear something that wasn’t in pastel color.
Well, all it did was send Kara straight to a tattoo shop where she hoped to find Jack and demand he did something as spectacular as Nia's tattoo. And she went on a mission, marching down the ten blocks from CatCo to the tattoo shop - that only that day she stopped to read the name of and what weird name they chose, Le Vintage Ink - her feet hitting the ground with a purpose, her hand pushing the door open with a vengeance, her eyes narrowed behind her glasses with one goal in mind.
It wasn't Jack she saw, however. She didn't see anyone at first, actually. The shop was empty like it was a week before and very silent, with the air conditioner doing a soft hum and nothing else.
The anti climax moment was enough to make all her determination wave off. Her shoulders dropped, her eyes rounded, her feet started to stamp and her determination, well, she didn’t quite remember it anymore. Nobody needed to know, Kara told to herself. Nobody knew she was going to do it, so she could just turn around, leave, go back to her apartment and try to do some online shopping. Maybe buy a red dress for once. None of her friends would ever believe she went back to the tattoo shop, so there would be no problem...
No. That was exactly the problem. They wouldn’t even believe her if she told them. They would laugh, call it a bluff, and keep teasing Kara for not being adventurous like they were. Alex does this long motorbike drives all over the state sometimes, and James goes hiking and jumps from planes from time to time. Winn would point out that the last thing Kara did without meticulous planning was to change pizza night for potstickers and that was only because the pizza place she always orders from was out of pineapples.
However, Kara reasoned with herself, instead of doing a tattoo, she could just go with Alex on her next trip. Maybe she could ask James to teach her how to hike. Querl adopted a cat he found behind his building, so maybe that could be Kara’s unplanned moment too. And what did Winn do so adventurous or spontaneous that he had the right to make fun of Kara? She couldn’t remember.
Yes, any of those things would be more reasonable. She could even do an impromptu visit to her mother. It would count for something. She knew Eliza would be happy and she loved making her mom happy. She could even pick Alex's old helmet so her sister could use it to ride with her girlfriend, Kelly, and Eliza makes a killer chocolate pecan pie too.
Already dreaming with the taste of the pie crust in her mouth Kara turned around. She must have been inside the tattoo shop for less than ten seconds and Jack hadn’t shown up yet, so that was a plus and a sign, even if she wanted to greet him and tell how nice Nia's tattoo looked after a week.
The second her back was turned to the counter, though, she heard a door opening and then a voice filled the silence. "Can I help you?"
That wasn’t Jack's voice. That much she knew. What she didn’t know was that someone could sound so... husky and still be so clear on the words. What she also didn’t know was why her body froze like she had been hit with lightning. Or why she ever decided to leave when a voice like that was inside the shop.
It would be rude to just keep walking, Kara told herself and even she knew it was a lame excuse for wanting to see the owner of that voice. But she still turned around, eyes blinking fast as she tried not to miss a second of what she was about to see, and then immediately felt her soul leave her body. That was the only explanation on why her mouth fell open and why her brain's function slowed down at least 30%.
Because the voice's owner was... for the lack of a better word, striking. It was a woman, looking a few years younger than Kara, with dark as coal wavy hair falling down her shoulders, green piercing eyes framed by some heavy eyeliner and plump lips painted with red lipstick. The woman was wearing a black t-shirt from a band Kara had never heard of, the v-cut being deep enough that she could see a black bra under it. The shirt looked like she had been cut at home - maybe she wasn't designed to have such a deep v-neck, maybe she had sleeves at some point and maybe the deep cuts by each side also weren't a part of the initial product. But, damn, it looked great on her. Since she had no sleeves and the shirt moved as she walked and showed a great expanse of her sides, Kara could see that the woman’s body was covered in tattoos.
Her arms, from shoulder to wrist, were almost totally covered. Her left arm almost looked like a flower shop, with dozens of flowers in different colors drawn all over it. Her right arm had tattoos from her shoulder to her elbow, and they were a mix of chemical elements and computer parts that, somehow, worked together in all black and white. Kara got just a few glimpses of the tattoos on her side - something that looked like a cartoon character, another one that assembled a lake, a few words that Kara couldn’t read from that far - but that was enough to make her lick her lips and try to picture what else was there. There were no tattoos on her chest area, that Kara could see, but there was a small musical chord on the left side of her neck, and Kara wondered if she had any tattoos on her legs. She couldn't see them from where the woman was standing behind the counter, and something dragged her feet forward before she could stop herself.
"H-hi," she choked out and her face immediately heated up with embarrassment. Her sister would call it 'gay panic' and make fun of her for three days, and Kara was suddenly very thankful for being alone. "I, uh..." The woman blinked, Kara mimicked her, and lost every coherent thought inside her head. "Jack."
The woman arched one perfect eyebrow, resting her hands flat against the counter, and Kara’s blue eyes were suddenly very interested in the long fingers spread over some papers. The papers, she noticed as a second thought, were unfinished drawings, but she could hardly tell what they were. Feeling her face get even hotter, Kara demanded that her eyes moved up and she was almost proud of herself when they paused for only a second at the woman’s cleavage. Of course, as soon as her eyes met the woman’s face again, she had a tiny smirk like she knew Kara was having a hard time being in the same space as her.
"I'm sorry, love," she said and Kara noticed an accent behind the last word, like she had spent years trying to get rid of it but still couldn't brush it off some words. "Jack doesn't work here on Tuesdays."
Oh. Well, that's a bit of a relief, Kara wasn't going to lie. No Jack, no tattoo, and she still could say she tried. She still wanted to say ‘hi’ but...
"Can I help you instead?"
Oh, boy. Kara almost turned around and ran away right then and there because the things she was thinking this stranger could help her with were kind of mortifying. Instead, Kara bit her bottom lip so hard that it went numb instantly, and leaned forward until she was resting her hands in front of the woman's fingers. She dared to glance down really quick, just to find out the woman was wearing black jeans and boots, before she looked up again - with a quick stop at the cleavage because good lord.
"I don't know, I..." Kara couldn’t even say her own name if the woman asked at that moment, let alone remember what she was doing there and where there even was.
The woman chuckled then. A deep, husky sound from the back of her throat that brought a small smile to her lips, and then she ducked her head - as though she had no idea that was the most blinding smile Kara had ever seen in her twenty-six years of living. Neither the chuckle nor the smile was mockingly, and her green eyes were just a little bit amused when she looked back at Kara.
"Don't get me wrong but... you don't look like the type of person that would get a tattoo."
Okay, what is it with people just assuming Kara is too boring to do something? Kara took a look at her own clothes. She wasn't even wearing a sweater that day! Sure, beige trousers and a blue button up hardly screamed "living on the edge" but come on! Was it the glasses? Alex always said she should use contact lenses, but she liked the glassed!
Feeling a new wave of determination, Kara set up her jaw and crossed her arms. "Well, that's exactly what I came here to do."
The woman raised both eyebrows now, clearly amused. "To get a tattoo?" She asked like there was any other reason for Kara to be inside a tattoo shop on a Tuesday night.
So Kara nodded, her blonde hair wiggling from side to side on her ponytail, and straightened up her back like she was about to enter a fight. Not that she ever fought before, not even when the cruel kids at her new school would call her weird and push her inside her locker. Alex would beat them up for her, so she didn’t have to, it was fine.
"Yes," she said and her voice only trembled for a second. "To get a tattoo," she confirmed like there was any other reason for her to be inside a tattoo shop on a Tuesday night.
"Okay," the woman said, clicking her tongue once before she picked up a pen from the desk, a smirk permanently spread on her lips. "Do you have any idea of what you want?"
Shit. Kara hadn’t gone that far. Maybe not even her own brain thought she would do it because she had neglected the most important part of the entire process. She had no idea what she wanted permanently marked on her skin.
(Permanently marked also sent a thousand of red lights inside her head because, you know, it was permanent)
It must have shown on her face because the woman’s smirk became more of a smile, not exactly gentle but not mockery either. "What's your name?"
"Kara." She was so glad her brain hadn’t come up with something ridiculous to say. She could remember when she met her cousin's sister-in-law and answered the same question with "mashed potatoes" for some reason she would never be able to grasp. Lucy never let her forget that embarassing moment.
"Well, Kara," and Holy Goddess of all the universe and beyond, how could her name roll out of her lips like that? "why don’t you take a look at the drawings we have here, see if you like one. If you don't, we can always come up with something for you."
She then pushed some heavy black portfolio across the counter towards Kara and opened the leather front cover to show her the first drawing. They were all separated by plastic, and she started the task of turning the pages while trying very hard to look at the drawings and not at the woman in front of her. She wasn't sure because she wouldn’t dare to look up, but she could feel green eyes staring at her and her blush returned full force.
"So..." she heard after a couple of minutes in silence. "What kind of dare you lost?"
Kara took full offense on that, glaring at her for a moment before going back to the portfolio. She had gotten on the dragon section and decided to skip it all together. "There was no dare."
The woman hummed, watched her for another minute, and then leaned over with her forearms touching the counter. She reached out, taking the plastic from Kara's fingers, and started skipping the pages until they reached the flowers. Kara looked up, catching a glimpse of the woman's arm, before meeting green eyes with a light glare.
The woman shrugged. "You look like a flower kind of girl."
"What else do I look like to you?" Kara mumbled back and stubbornly went back to the drawing she was seeing before - the ships and anchors section - even though she left a finger marking the flowers page.
The brunette seemed even more amused now, barely able to hide her smile, and she chuckled once when Kara turned the page to see another ship. "Like you randomly decided to get a tattoo because someone pissed you off."
Kara tried not to give her the satisfaction of being right, deciding to focus on studying every ship and every anchor. She heard another chuckle, but the woman wisely didn’t push the subject.
"You could save us a lot of time by just going to the flowers."
Fine, maybe she was right about that too. Kara would never pick a ship, or a dragon, or a coffee cup, or any other drawing she saw before. Although Kara never thought what type of drawing she would get tattooed. With a sigh, she went back to the flowers, throwing the woman a dirty look when she huffed a laugh.
"Hey," she said, raising her hands in playful defense, "if I'm going to do something that you will regret tomorrow, at least let me help."
"Aren't you going to try to talk me out of this?" Kara asked, remembering when Jack asked Nia five times if she was sure before touching her skin with the needle.
"No," another shrug. "I will get my money and you will get the regret. Works fine by me."
Kara scoffed and shook her head, but finally spotted something she liked. It was a rose, not larger than a paper ball, black and white with a few leafs to the side. She was almost pointing that one out when she heard a deep sigh and looked up. The brunette was staring down at the drawing with enough judgment that Kara changed her mind in a blink.
"What?" She still asked because it was a beautiful flower.
"Nothing, it's just... does that even mean something to you?"
Kara looked back at the rose and frowned. "I like roses," she defended herself.
"I like kale, but I won’t tattoo that."
"You like kale?" Kara didn’t mean to sound so disgusted by it but it was stronger than her. Her face twisted in a grimace, shocked more than anything.
The other woman laughed a real laugh this time, and Kara felt the sound into her xcvery core. "Please, don't ask me to tattoo a burger on you. You're too pretty for that."
It was like she knew exactly what those words would do to Kara because she winked right after, making her blush ten times more. "What do you suggest, then?"
The tattooed brunette smiled and tapped her finger on top of the rose. "If you liked this one, it's fine, but I would go with..." She let her voice die as she started turning the pages until she found what she was looking for. "This one."
Kara looked at the drawing and was immediately sold to the idea. It wasn't just any flower. It was a plumeria. Well, two plumerias side by side, with a few leafs to the sides and a mandala carefully placed behind them like it was the third flower. She knew she wanted that one the second her eyes landed on it.
"It would look good on you," she kept talking. "I wouldn’t add any color, though." Kara kept nodding although she was only half paying attention now that she had found the right one. Her silence must have sent twisted signals because the woman’s voice became softer. "I know I said I wouldn’t try to talk you out of this but... are you sure?"
Kara’s eyes moved up then, metting slightly concerned green eyes, and she smiled. "Yes. I'm sure."
The woman studied her face for a few seconds before she nodded once. "Okay, then. Where do you want it?"
Shit.
The panic on her face told her out again and the woman’s laugh filled the space around them like a melody. "Come on, we can figure it out inside."
‘Inside’ being a closed room very similar to the one Nia had gotten her tattoo, albeit it was clear that that one wasn't Jack's. First, it lacked the smell of cigars and heavy cologne that Kara smelled last time and made her nose itch. But it also held a more personal touch like more drawings and a few words scribbled on the black walls. Kara didn’t feel nervous while the woman turned the sign from open to close, explaining that she was the only one who worked on Tuesdays' nights. She also didn’t feel nervous when she entered the room and spotted the comfortable chair she would be sitting on. What made her nervous again was taking her shirt off so she could decide where she wanted the plumerias to be.
She placed the printed drawing on several parts of both of her arms, her shoulders and asked the brunette to hold it at some spots on her back as well. But Kara was only satisfied when she put the paper against the right side of her ribs, a few centimeters below her bra. The woman gave her a knowing look and arched one eyebrow when she said that was the place she wanted her tattoo.
"Are you sure? It can be quite a painful area to get a tattoo, especially if it's your first one."
Again, she wasn't making fun of Kara and she appreciated it, but she also wasn't going to change her mind. "I'm sure."
"Okay. I will put the outlines, then."
It was only when the brunette had her hands against her side and her face a few inches from her chest that Kara realized she didn’t even know who she was. "Hey, I, uh, I didn't catch your name before."
Green eyes glanced up, bright and slightly amused, before they returned to the task of perfectly positioning the flowers on her ribs. "Lena."
"Lena," Kara found herself echoing the name in a whisper before she could stop herself. Lena looked up again, even more amused than before, and Kara felt herself blushing. "It... it suits you."
She had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but Lena smiled and tilted her head to the side. "Thanks." She pushed back the stool she was sitting on. "Take a look at the mirror and see if that's what you want."
Kara took a step closer to see her reflection and tried very hard to ignore the fact that she was standing in front of a stranger in her bra. The plumerias were exactly what she wanted and exactly where she wanted them, and she said that to Lena, who told her to lay down after turning the chair into an improvised bed. While Kara tried to find a comfortable place to lay, she heard Lena slipping on rubber gloves and moving a few things around before approaching her again. She was half expecting her to ask one more time if she was sure, but Lena said nothing when she touched her skin with the black gloves, and raised the needle to her eyes level to make sure it was ready to go.
Kara wasn’t sure if the shivers were from nervousness, the chill air of the room, or the fact that this very attractive woman was touching her just below her breast, but she did her best to ignore it. Lena had pulled her hair into a messy ponytail, Kara realized, and she could see her sharp jawline more easily now. She also spotted five different piercings on the woman’s right ear. For a second, she wondered if Lena could feel her heart beating under her skin or if she could maybe even hear it.
"Be ready for some pain, but try not to move," Lena said while she lowered the needle to her skin. "It will take longer if you keep moving. You also don't want me to fuck this up," she offered Kara a smile to let her know she was joking - at least that's what the blonde hoped for. "Tell me if you need a break."
So, Lena wasn't lying when she said it would hurt. Nia neglected to tell her about the painful part and Kara would make her pay for it by typing down her next article, but, holy crap, it hurt. The first touch of the needle made her jump and hiss, and Lena pulled it away like she knew it was going to happen, giving her a few seconds to recover.
"Sorry," Kara whispered once her body relaxed again.
"It's fine," the brunette mumbled back, totally concentrated on her job now.
It went like that for a few minutes - Kara squeezing her eyes shut, biting her lips, clutching the sides of the chair slash bed, and hissing under her breath whenever she couldn’t hold it back anymore. Until she started to get used to the pain and allowed herself to focus on other things. Her eyes trailed to the few drawings hanging on the walls, taking in the delicate traces and the lack of colors from all of them. She decided that talking would help her with the pain.
"Jack said his boss makes those drawings," she commented lightly.
There was a brief pause before Lena answered her. "That would be me."
"Oh," the blonde breathed out in shock. "So, you..."
"I'm the owner, yes." There was another pause while Lena cleaned her skin with a soft paper. "I used to work for a tattoo artist back in Metropolis before I decided to open my own business. Jack followed me."
"Well, you certainly have talent. Your drawings are beautiful."
"On paper," Lena teased and Kara didn’t need to look at her to know she was smirking. "Let's see how it translate to your skin."
Kara wanted to play along and tell her to ‘please, don't make something awful that would be permanently marked on my skin’, but she found herself saying something entirely different. "Plumerias were my mom's favorite flowers. My dad would bring them to her every Saturday after work because those were the first flowers he ever gave her." She could still remember her father getting back home on Saturdays right before lunch with a bouquet in his hand to her mom and a box of chocolate for her, all smiles and offering hugs. If she tried hard enough, Kara could still remember the smell of her mom's stew mixed with the flowers' smell, could still taste the chocolate. "They died almost fifteen years ago."
Kara had no idea why she was sharing those things with this stranger wearing black rubber gloves and breathing too close to her ribs, but she also couldn't stop. Maybe it was a tattoo thing, like sharing too much about your relationships while cutting your hair.
Lena didn’t shy away, though. She made sure their eyes were locked before saying, "Let's make sure those are perfect, then," and went back to work.
Kara felt herself relaxing more after that, although she didn’t say anything else for a few minutes. "I work as a reporter to a magazine," she found herself saying. "My boss is... both of them are impossible to deal with. I dream about throwing them into space sometimes, but... I love my job. One of them is the reason I'm here today."
"Who should I be thanking?"
Kara blushed one more time, even if she wasn't sure it was said to be flirtatious or if she was just imagining it. "Cat means well, she just... push some buttons sometimes."
"Well," Lena stopped her movements to look at Kara again, this time with a soft smile. "I will be sending this Cat some flowers anyway."
The blonde chuckled at that. "Go back to work. I don't want to end up with a dragon on my ribs."
Lena hummed, eyes dropping back to the outlines of the flowers and needle touching skin again. "I wouldn’t draw a dragon on you," she contemplated. "You're more of an iguana kind of girl."
Kara gasped in faked offense and turned her head to fully stare at Lena with narrowed eyes. "How dare you? You know nothing about me!"
The tattoo artist shrugged, not bothered by her explosion. "Maybe a kitty." Kara huffed and puffed, letting her body fall back on the chair, and did her best to keep frowning. "Definitely a kitty," she heard Lena whispering under her breath, playfully and amused, and Kara was soon smiling. "So... will your boyfriend approve this?"
"Are you fishing for information about me?" Kara teased.
"Huh," Lena sighed. "You didn’t sound this confident when you were stumbling over your words when you first saw me."
She was sure her entire body turned pink with that and she mumbled weakly that: "I was nervous about getting a tattoo."
"Yes, of course," Lena replied and Kara blushed again.
"No boyfriend," she ended up replying because the other alternative was to dig a bigger hole to herself. "Or a girlfriend."
She was ready for another teasing from the other woman, but Lena pulled back instead and eyed her tattoo with her head tilted to the side. "I need you to hold your breath for a few seconds, okay? I'm getting to a delicate part and it would be better if you hold it for, like, ten seconds."
Kara nodded and got ready to pull in a breath to hold it while Lena got her needle ready to go again. When the other woman said so, Kara took in a large intake of breath but, as soon as the needle touched her again, she exhaled in surprise when the pain shot to every nerve in her body.
"I know," Lena said. "It's the hardest part. I promise to be done with it as fast as possible. Can we try again?"
There weren't many options since Kara was already in the middle of getting her tattoo done, so she nodded and waited for the new signal. Kara grabbed the chair with both of her hands, pressed her eyes tightly shut, bit her bottom lip and held her breath for the longest ten seconds of her life before Lena tapped her skin and pulled away with a smile.
"There," she declared in her husky tone. "Good girl."
It was embarrassing how those two words made Kara react. She gasped, the breath still stuck in her lungs almost causing her to choke, and her entire body went stiff when a shiver left goosebumps all over her skin on its way down her spine. She couldn't see Lena and that was a blessing because she could feel the pause that her reaction gave the brunette. So, maybe that was a weird way to find out a praise kink, Kara decided while praying that Lena would brush it as a perfectly normal reaction to have.
"That was interesting," Lena whispered and, this time, the blonde knew she wasn't supposed to have heard that.
The blonde bit her bottom lip so hard that she could feel the taste of blood and she was totally sure that Lena could hear how fast her heart was beating. She could probably feel it, and, God, that was so embarrassing. Kara had half a piece of mind to just pull back her shirt, leave and never go back there, but the other woman didn’t give her time to react before she was once more piercing her skin with the needle. It was still painful, although the mortification she felt numbed it a little bit.
Lena didn’t sound so cocky when she spoke again and she even had to clear her throat so the words would come out less hoarse and more audible. “Just a while longer and we will be done. Can you handle it or should we finish it another day?”
Kara didn’t trust herself to ever come back – and not just because of what had just happened but also because she didn’t think she would be brave enough to get any tattoo needle to ever touch her again. So, she exhaled slowly and nodded. Lena went back to the draw immediately after that and they fell in a half comfortable silence until the trickiest part was over. Or, at least, that’s what Kara thought the trickiest part was because it hurt like hell and Lena had this crinkle between her brows when she glanced back that made her look... cute. Even with the tattoos and the five different piercing sets on her ears, the black clothes, the black room and her undeniable confidence.
It wasn’t until Lena leaned away to get more ink that she spoke again. “Plumerias were very common where I lived.”
Kara thought back on their conversation and wondered aloud, “Metropolis?”
“Ireland,” she corrected gently.
“Oh,” Kara breathed out and then hissed when the needle was back to her ribs.
“Not many people know I’m Irish, so I’m trusting you with this secret, Kara.”
She could hear the joke in the woman’s voice and Lena even poked her side playfully, and Kara heard herself giggling like a schoolgirl. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“That’s not how it works,” Lena declared with a huff. “Now you need to tell me a secret of yours.”
“What?”
“Yes, so we’re even and I can make sure you will never tell anyone what I just told you.”
“It’s not like you just confessed a murder,” Kara argued with an eye roll that was quite too fond to be directed to someone who she had met only two or three hours before.
Lena looked up for a second and their eyes met, making Kara’s face flush red. She was pulling a very uncomfortable position to keep her head raised and turned to the side so she could watch the other woman, and she had just been caught doing that one more time. “No? Well, you shouldn’t go to my office then.”
Kara hummed, trying to sound unimpressed by the joke while fighting back a laugh, and shrugged. “I knew it was weird I didn’t see Jack.”
The brunette let out a breathy chuckle, her hot breath hitting Kara’s side and making her shiver again, before she pursed her lips. “I see you’re too fond of Jack already.”
“Jealous?”
Lena quirked one dark eyebrow and gave her a look – the type of look that Kara tried to pull out her entire life while trying to look all sexy and misterious and was never able to do it – that made the blonde’s entire body warm up. “I’m the one poking your skin with a needle right now, so I think he should be the jealous one.”
Yes, Kara couldn’t keep up with that. She was weird, she rambled, she stuttered more times than not, and just, overall, was terrible at the whole flirting thing. Lena, on the other hand, seemed to be a master on it. Kara didn’t really stand a chance against it, not even for a second. She could try, pull out a word or a phrase here and there, but, in the end, Lena would find a way to leave her blushing and flustered so easily that made her head spin.
(She couldn’t be sure if Lena was just that good or if Kara was just super gay, but, whatever it was, it was working wonderfully)
“Now, come on, spill a secret,” Lena said after a long silence that stretched between them while they just stared at each other’s eyes.
Kara felt hypnotized by the green eyes and that was so unfair. So, damn, unfair. “I get my boss’ coffee order wrong every day.”
Lena stopped with the tattoo again to blink at her a couple of times in what seemed to be confusion. Then, she tilted her head to the side, glanced to the ceiling and opened her mouth as if she was going to say something. No sound came out, she closed her mouth again, and she looked so adorable that Kara felt her rambling coming to the surface again.
“Cat has this really complicated order at Starbucks that makes my head hurt just to think about. 3% fat, quarter milk, a spoon and a half of organic sugar, or whatever that is. It’s my job to get her coffee every morning and there’s no Starbucks close to my apartment, so I stop at another place called Noonan’s and get an order from there.” Lena still hadn’t said anything and Kara couldn’t bring herself to stop talking. “I used to work there, so I have a discount. I can buy a coffee for myself too with the same amount of money I would spend at Starbucks. And she never noticed it!”
There was a pause where Kara tried to come up with more things to say before a loud laugh cut the space around her. She looked at Lena with wide eyes and only slightly offended by her reaction, but the other woman was too busy laughing at her expense to notice it. The brunette used the back of her hand to cover her mouth while she shook her head and kept laughing freely.
“I’m sorry,” Lena said, waving her hand, before being interrupted by her own laugh. “It’s just... Fuck! That’s the worse thing you ever did in your life?” The tattoo artist looked at her again with her eyes crinkling at the sides and Kara felt her anger melting away.
“What? Did you expect a murder?”
“I was hoping that you would say you spit on her coffee, at least.”
Kara gasped. “I would never do that!”
Lena narrowed her eyes at her, a tiny smirk adorning her lips. “But you think about it, don’t you?”
“Every day,” she admitted with a groan, letting her head fall back against the chair.
The brunette laughed again and a cold hand came to rest against her thigh, making Kara’s body vibrate from head to toe. “I won’t tell your secret if you don’t tell mine.” Lena winked – winked – at her and Kara felt her throat too dry all of sudden. The woman chuckled again when the blonde gulped before she gently tapped the hard muscle of Kara’s thigh. “We’re done here.”
“Oh.” Kara blinked in surprise and her eyes immediately fell to her ribs. The skin was red and swollen, but she could see the delicate lines of the flowers and the leaves, and she was hit by the urge to cry all at once. She felt like a little girl again, being six or seven, and running to the door to meet her father, seeing the plumerias in his left hand and the chocolate on his right.
“Hey,” Lena called her gently, ducking her head to be able to catch the blue eyes again. “You're fine over there? I had people regretting tattoos before, but not so fast.”
Kara laughed and shook her head, trying to discreetly brush a tear from the corner of her eyes. “Everything is fine. It’s really beautiful.”
“Well, don’t say that before you take a better look,” Lena pushed her stool away and got up with a refreshed excitement. “Come on, stand up so you can look at it in the mirror.”
That’s what Kara did, sliding off the chair and walking with slightly trembling legs to the full body mirror that she had seen before. The fact that she still didn’t have her shirt on was in the back of her mind while her eyes traced the ink. It looked even better on her ribs than it looked on the paper and she made sure to tell the other woman that, earning a smile that she doubted she would ever be able to forget.
"Here." She turned around to see Lena's hand reaching out a piece of white chalk between her long fingers and sporting a kind of smile that Kara hadn’t seen on her yet - satisfied, the type of smile you give after accomplishing a task that meant something to you. "All of my clients have to write something on the walls. It's tradition," Lena shrugged in the end.
Kara’s eyes swept through the room again, taking in the black walls and words written in almost every inch available under a new light. There were small praises, thanks, some jokes and even a few doodles, and Kara wondered what she could write that could sum up her entire experience inside Lena's tattoo shop. She took the chalk more out of instinct, her brain still working on finding the right words, and Kara took a few steps around the room until she found the right place to write.
It was just below one of Lena's drawings that were hanging from a string, between a Scooby-Doo doodle and the message of someone saying they loved their new rose tattoo. Kara’s handwriting wasn't the best one - sloppy and crooked - and it looked even worse when she was trying to write on a wall, but she managed to write her first and last name to make it look readable. Then, she added her phone number under it and put the chalk inside the small box she found just beside her. Kara turned around making sure her body would cover what she had just written, suddenly feeling too nervous about it, and accepted the plastic foil paper Lena handed her.
"Remember to put on the ointment I told you about and keep it covered so it heals. It should be all healed in a week, tops. You're free to call if you have any doubts."
Lena led the way out of the room and they found themselves once again at the reception desk. Lena picked up the pen she had played with before and scribbled something on a piece of paper beside the computer while Kara reached out for her wallet in the pocket of her trousers. Their fingers brushed when she handed Lena the money and her face flushed red for the millionth time that night. Lena gave her a knowing smile before putting the money away and just like that they realized that they would part ways soon. A small part of Kara, primal and shameless, tried to come up with any reason that would make her stay for a while longer. Anything would do, really.
Even so, there was no reason for her to stay and Kara tried to mask her unjustified sadness by joining her hands in front of her body and forcing a smile to look real. “Thank you again.”
Lena waved a hand dismissively, the pen still hanging between two fingers, before her hand came to rest on top of the other one on the desk. “It was my pleasure.”
“If I regret it in the morning, I will come back with a vengeance,” Kara joked, swaying on her heels, and the laugh that came from the other woman was worth any type of regret she might end up having in the near future.
“As much as I would like to see you again, I would hate for that to be the reason you came back.”
Lena winked at her and Kara’s mouth hang open before she could stop herself. That made the brunette laugh in delight, made a deep blush rise from her neck to her cheeks, and Kara started taking steps back before she could embarrass herself anymore. Alex, Nia and all of their friends were right: she’s a gay disaster. None of them would be able to judge her if they just saw Lena though, of that she was sure.
Stumbling over one of the chairs, Kara let out a nervous laugh and, to her utter terror, she pointed finger guns at Lena. “Have, ah, have a good night, ma’am.”
She missed the door handle twice before she was able to open the door and, by the time she looked at Lena again, the other woman was smiling broadly at her. Ducking her head, Kara walked out the door and let it close behind her. Once the slightly chill air of the night hit her face, she closed her eyes and resisted the urge to hit herself for some very stupid decisions made inside that shop. She wondered if she would ever be able to live it down if any of her friends ever found out she just did finger guns at a beautiful woman as a way to say goodbye.
Well, to be fair, she wasn’t sure any of her friends would let her live it down when they found out about her very spontaneous tattoo.
God, Alex was going to kill her. Not for getting a tattoo, but for doing so without giving it enough thought. And, for Christ’s sake, Alex could be a real pain in the ass when she decided to lecture her for whatever reason it was. She was so not ready to deal with that.
It was only when she opened her eyes again that she realized she was still standing outside the tattoo shop – and that Lena could still very easily see her from her place behind the counter – and, with another blush, Kara pushed herself to start walking. Her apartment was only five more blocks down the street and she took that time to clear her mind from anything negative she was thinking about.
If her crazy and very unusual night taught her anything was that she had the thing inside her that could make her do some very adventurous things. She was capable of doing those things. Maybe randomly getting a tattoo wasn’t the ideal way to prove that to herself, but, damn, she had just renewed faith in herself.
Her poor attempts at flirting were the last thing on her mind when she pushed the door to her studio apartment open and stepped inside, making a beeline to where she had left her laptop earlier that day on the small kitchen table. She pulled a chair after turning the computer on and, reaching out for an apple inside the fruit bowl, she waited for the laptop to come to life so she could open a new file to start typing. She had an article to write, and a trip to plan.
 XxxxxxxX
 It was two days later – after Alex had scolded her for making decisions in a rush, after Nia took pictures of their tattoos side by side to post on her Instagram, after Querl had awkwardly given her a thumbs up, after James raised his eyebrows, after Winn yelped in shock – that something changed.
Kara was lazily reading something Nia had written so she could suggest some corrections before the girl submitted it to Snapper’s approval, when her phone buzzed from its place beside her mousepad – her rainbow mousepad, thanks to Winn. She picked it up, thinking it was Alex inviting her for lunch so she could yell at her a few more times, but the number who had texted her was an unsaved one. She frowned, but didn’t give it much thought before unlocking her screen to read it.
“Since you didn’t barge inside my shop to kill me, I take it that you didn’t regret it?”
The smile that curled her lips up came from within her and it was apparently too obvious because Nia, who was sitting across from her, gave her a weird look and arched one eyebrow in question. Kara shook her head, biting her bottom lip, and turned her chair around so the girl couldn’t see her anymore before typing a reply.
“I never said I was going to kill you.”
“The threat was clear to me,” came the next text just a few seconds later and Kara chuckled to herself.
“Please, don’t tell me you were scared.”
“Why do you think it took me two days to reach out?”
Kara paused at that. She had spent the last two days being sure that, despite their easy flirt with each other, Lena didn’t actually want to talk or see her again. So, to have her texting her now was really... reawakening something inside her.
“Who are you texting?”
Kara jumped on her chair, startled by Nia’s voice so close to her ear all of sudden, her phone almost slipping from her fingers and crashing on the floor. Thankfully, her reflexes were still working and she was able to grab it, but not without throwing a glare at Nia for scaring her like that. The girl gave her a sheepish smile, although she shrugged and didn’t back away from where she had perched on the corner of Kara’s desk to look over her shoulder.
“No one,” came the childish, and not at all convincing, reply and Kara didn’t need to look at her friend again to know she was busted. Now Nia was not going to let it down.
“Really? Because you have been smiling to your phone for five minutes and you just smile like that when Alex says she’s bringing extra potstickers for game night.” Nia smirked and leaned over, trying to read the texts again, but Kara quickly pressed the phone against her chest to block her view.
“Alex just invited me for lunch,” Kara attempted to throw her off.
However, Nia arched her eyebrows. “Really? Because I just texted Kelly asking her to go to that vegan place with me and she said she already has plans.” A pause. “With Alex.” Another pause. “For lunch.”
Kara groaned and turned her chair so she was facing her computer again, slipping her phone screen down on the table. “Fine, it wasn’t Alex, but I’m not going to say anything.”
“Okay.” Her friend gave up way too faster than usual and Kara watched her with narrowed eyes as the girl jumped from her desk to turn the corner back to her own cubicle. Nia was about to sit down when she tried to snatch Kara’s phone away with one surprisingly fast move, but the blonde was even faster, taking it out of her reach in the last second. “Damn.”
Kara rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back. She grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair, throwing it over her shoulders and slipping her phone inside one of the pockets, and threw an overly sweet, clearly fake, smile at Nia. “Now you will have to eat alone because I won’t have lunch with you either.”
Nia stuck her tongue out at her. “I will call Querl!”
Kara waited until she was safely inside the elevator before opening her texts again. There were three more texts since the last time she looked and a smile immediately spread over her face when she read them.
“Okay, I confess, I was a little nervous.”
“You still there? You didn’t change your mind, did you?”
“About the tattoo, not the... leaving your name and number on my wall thing.”
She barely noticed when someone entered the elevator a few floors below, too focused on replying to the texts.
“You? Nervous? You don’t look like the type of girl that gets nervous. And no, I didn’t change my mind about any of those things, actually.”
A new text only came after she was already walking down the street to Noonan’s, but she wrote a quick text to invite Winn for lunch before opening Lena’s text.
“I’m also not the type to text any of the numbers left on my walls. And good.”
“Do you get a lot of numbers on your walls?” Kara asked and she had to make a conscious effort to cross the street to Noonan’s instead of walking straight for a few more blocks to the tattoo shop. She could picture Lena leaning against the counter with her gorgeous smirk and her impressive tattoos – and even more impressive cleavage.
“Jack enjoys them more than I do.”
Kara was about to make a comment about Jack but another text came in before she could and she stopped in her tracks so suddenly that the man walking behind her shoved against her shoulder. She tripped over a few steps, but quickly held herself again to read the words over and over in disbelief. She hoped, of course, but that was... wow.
“I don’t want to be too straightforward here, or overly confident or something, but I have a client coming in five minutes, so I don’t have much time. This won’t sound romantic at all, but would you like to have dinner with me? Tomorrow?”
Kara didn’t have to think too much about her answer, of course. Alex would give her a piece of her mind for agreeing to go out with someone she barely knew – and ‘that’s the whole point of going out to meet people’ was not a good argument on her sister’s book – but Kara would deal with it later. Right now, she had a very gorgeous woman asking her out and she already knew what her answer would be.
“I would love to.”
“What? Really?” Kara chuckled at the rushed text she received back, but another one came just a second later. “Pretend you didn’t read that. I meant ‘okay, great!’.”
Chuckling again, Kara typed a new message. “I know you were the one who asked me out, but may I suggest a place? I don’t have a car and it’s close to both of our workplaces.”
“Whatever you want, just text me address. Let’s say, tomorrow at 7 pm?”
“Can’t wait.”
 XxxxxxxX
 “Hey, Kara?”
“Yes?” She asked, not taking her eyes away from her computer screen and typing away as fast as she could to be able to put all the ideas in her new article. She had never written like that before, but she wasn’t about to complain about small inspirations spikes.
“The front desk called and said there’s a pack for Cat downstairs. Can you pick it up?”
With a small sigh, not because she was mad at Winn for interrupting her but because she would have to go all out of the way to pick a pack she didn’t even know was going to come in, Kara saved her file and pushed her chair back. Nia glanced up and was about to remove her earphones, ready to follow Kara to whatever she was going to learn more about the journalism world, but the blonde made some gestures with her hand that she hoped meant ‘boring things, stay here’ before she started making her way to the elevator.
Jenny, the woman that stayed at the front desk, was kind, around Eliza’s age, and very chatty, which worked fine with Kara when she wanted to waste a few minutes talking along. “Good morning, Kara! How are you?”
“I’m great, Jenny. And you?”
“I’m fine. What happened? I recognize that smile.”
Kara tilted her head to the side, although she couldn’t stop smiling, doesn’t matter how hard she was trying. “What smile?”
Jenny narrowed her eyes and waved a finger at her playfully. “That’s the smile of someone who had a very good night.”
The blonde could feel her face heating up and a nervous chuckle escaped her lips before she could stop herself. She had been leaning against the counter, but she leaned her torso back and tapped her fingers against the hard surface nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Right,” Jenny scoffed, rolled her eyes and started pulling out the packages that she would need to take upstairs with her. There was a yellow thing that was sent by one of the photographers of the last shooting they made, some letters and a few small boxes, which made Kara believe Jenny had been holding those things with her for at least a few days. Cat hadn’t asked for any of that, so it wasn’t a problem. “Don’t tell me then. You don’t have to. Is all over your face.”
Blushing even harder, Kara huffed an anxious laugh and looked down at the counter. She put one hand on her hip as the other one raised to push her glasses up her nose, but she kept her eyes down to avoid seeing the smirk on Jenny’s face. She would have to agree with her, if she did. Because she knew it was, in fact, written all over her face. She hadn’t been able to stop smiling since she woke up that morning – who was she kidding? It had been like that since dinner last night.
It had a reason – and the reason had a name – but she was not going to share any personal details about her life with Jenny. The old woman had the tendency to share everyone’s secrets – which was another reason Kara liked to talk with her so much, but she would never admit to being a gossip girl. She did tell Nia, mostly because her friend wouldn’t stop asking why Kara was fifteen minutes late that morning, though she had made the girl promise not to tell anyone.
It was still pretty new, she had argued.
“If you two slept together, it’s not that new,” Nia had teased back, making her face turn red so fast that James, that had been coming back from the bathroom, asked if she was feeling well.
Even if the whole ‘sleeping together on the first date’ thing was new to her, Kara hadn’t regretted it in the morning. Much like the tattoo. Although, it would be remarkably harder to regret sleeping with Lena when the said woman was spooning her from behind than it was to regret a tattoo that recquired a lot of afterward care. Either way, Kara was living the best morning in her life and it clearly showed on her face.
“Looks like you’re not the only one who’s having a great time.” Jenny’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts and Kara looked up in time to see the woman pulling a big bouquet from under the counter.
The flowers looked cheap and scruffy, which made it seem like someone had just thrown them together without much care. They were yellow and pink daisies, the colors clashed and didn’t work well together, but the card hidden between the flowers was black and easy to see. She knew she shouldn’t because it had her boss’ name outside the card and it was clearly not for her to see, but curiosity took the best of her – that and the fact that the card had been clearly already open, and by Jenny’s face she knew who had done it.
“Thank you – L”
Well, that wasn’t helpful at all.
Sighing and feeling silly for stealing a look, she put the card back and started to try to find a way to pick everything she needed to take back with her. She knew there was a small cart some other companies in the building used to transport stocks and other products, but she was sure she could use her hands if she just pilled everything right. Kara had just come up with a plan when Jenny spoke again.
“There’s also this one. It doesn’t have a card, but it came with the bouquet. Same delivery. The guy couldn’t say anything about it, but I’m sure we can find something if we call the shop and...”
“I think there’s no need,” Kara interrupted gently, without looking up from the growing pile in one of her hands, but she raised her head eventually.
Only to lose track of every thought she was having.
Jenny had put a single plumeria on top of the counter. As the woman had said, there was no card or any type of identification – who it came from or who was supposed to receive it – but Kara connected the dots quite easily. Smiling, she reached over to grab the simple flower and brought it closer to her face to smell it.
“Oh, I see.”
“I have to go!” Kara said suddenly, knowing everyone in the building would know she had just randomly smelled a flower at the front desk that morning. “See you, Jen!”
The look on Cat’s face when Kara gave her the bouquet, not offering any other explanation othan than that there was a card attached to it, was worth every step on the stairs she had to walk up, holding the woman’s coffee every morning. As soon as she was back to her desk, Kara pulled her phone from her pocket and sent a text before Nia could start asking any questions.
“Thought you said that you’re not good with romance.”
The reply didn’t come right away, Kara ended up putting her phone to the side and went back to work. However, as soon as it rang beside her, she grabbed it.
“Guess we’re both learning new things about ourselves. Want to have lunch together?”
And, yes, she totally did.
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Come be my teacher pt 2
Aish we're back
Link to part 1
Jung Hoseok nearly died to actually make publishable Yoongi's book
But eventually he made it
He hoped the day at the luna park was enough for Jungkook to be forgiven after spending nearly every afternoon with Namjoon and his kid brother
Mostly, he hoped Namjoon could forgive him to have to deal with both his child and his own kid brother
When he mentioned it, Namjoon has a variety of emotions.
Surprise, then recognition. Eventually softness.
"they have been good, all things considered." He laughs a little "Just warning you, Jungkook took a passion for Just Dance"
Well, Hoseok considers when he watches his son weirdly dancing in front of the television, there are worst things that could happen
Also, now that he has a life back, he can discard Min Yoongi in his man cave or whatever he likes to call his attic and go back to his routine
Which means, pick up and drive is kid to school
And see again the cute teacher
Not that he cares
But you know
He does
That day Kim Taehyung was wearing a dark green vest and a white shirt and looked as an absolute old man
His housemate confirmed it and if Kim Seokjin tells you you look bad, it's true
The thing is, Taehyung didn't want to look hot, he just wanted to look comfy and cozy to his kids
When he steps outside to collect the kids, he regretted every choice made that morning
Because there it was. In all his elegant glory. Jung Hoseok.
The two exchanged a small wave and Tae nearly forgot he has something to say to him
"Come on Taehyung" he tries to say to himself "he's just another parent. Nothing to worry about. Nothing special. Not a crush, no sir"
"Hoseok-ssi" he calls him. By his name, because the first thing Jung Hoseok told him as they met is "you're taking my son most of the week, we can at least call each other by our own names"
"yah?" He was already moving towards the car, dammit.
Stumbling at bit at the beginning, Tae tells him about the little recital he proposed to the school board that year
Hoseok beamed at him
"that sounds wonderful! kids will have loads of fun"
Taehyung was positively gloating, but tried to hide it
"so this week it's going to be parents-teachers conference, so we can explain every detail"
Nobody will pry from his cold hands the knowledge that the reason why it was happening that week was that Taehyung knew as a fact that Hoseok was busy until now
And also, that nobody knew about the meeting in the first place
The thing is, a meeting was supposed to happen at some point, and Taehyung was a very considerate teacher, okay?
He needed to tell the principal about the meeting, tho
Ugh
On the other hand, Hobi was quite serene.
The wonders of a full night sleep, he guessed
Nope nothing to do with the cute teacher and the cute vest that made him look cozy and cuddly and all the stuff a grown up should not look like
It would be a lie to say that it didn't do anything to Hoseok.
But then again, Hoseok can be a good liar
His phone chimed in, showing a text from Yoongi
"so did you ask him out?"
"who?" "What do you mean who" "i mean who would I ask out" "the teacher, dumbass"
Hoseok stared at the phone for a solid five seconds
"you don't even know what day of the week it is" "And yet I know you brought the little monster to school, so you've seen him"
For someone who forgets to eat, Yoongi can be really persistent about stuff
"why" he just asks, glancing away from his computer. If anything, he knows Yoongi has little to none interest in his love life by itself
Not after he finished all the people he could set him up, anyway
Including himself
That was so weird that both kinda decided it never happened
So back to the text, Hoseok patiently waited for whatever was the real reason behind such concern
"I may or may not started planning the next book based on whatever vibe you and your lovely teacher give off"
Hoseok shrieked, but just a little
"but you know!!! Most of the time the final product have nothing to do with the beginning!!!" Yoongi continues
Six exclamation point usually mean that he's either lying or trying to convince him of something he didn't actually believe in. So lying, after all.
"and what's the plot" hoseok asks, but then "no, nvm. Don't tell me. Just. Idk. No"
Yoongi didn't reply, but then his editorial instinct won over all his better judgement
"okay, tell me the plot"
Yoongi answer arrived after less then three minutes and it was a shit ton long. He basically already planned everything and all he needed was the main characters
"and they would be me and Kim Taehyung?" Was the only answer Hoseok managed to cave
Because yeah, if life was a written book maybe they could have been the perfect romance
Even by changing some basic stuff - "don't worry you're all idols here" - and making some unrealistic concessions - "your character is the greater dancer of all times" - the way Yoongi was telling the story
A story that didn't exist
makes him want to fall in love for real
But here's the catch: they were real people, and crush on your child's teacher is problematic at best, creepy at worst
So no, he won't be pursuing that. Thank you very much
(but gave yoongi permission to work on the story nevertheless because, you know, it's his job)
And he r e a l l y is set on his mind the day of the meeting after school
Doesn't matter that he exited work early just to go home and shower
And definitely didn't have anything to do with his choice of wardrobe that saw some neat jeans he had brought but never wore and his best fitting pastel red shirt
Along with a leather jacket because what the hell he was still young after all
And if some heads turned to check him out, when he entered the classroom, well. He couldn't blame them
He sat gingerly on his child desk and waited. Mr Kim still nowhere to be seen
Talking about Kim Taehyung
His day started the night before with his housemate that, in order to forget his impossible (only according to him) crush decided to have a drink
And since it would be too sad to drink alone, he had to bring Tae down with him
Little mattered he had to work the morning after and kids were not merciful with headache
He enters the room with the parents with eyes fixed on the floor, trying to remember everything he needed to say and--- oh
Of course Jung Hoseok was there
Of course he was stunning
And of cour-- no wait he was talking to Namjoon? What was he doing here?
Oh right. Mixed classes. His kids and mr Lee were together in this project.
Having the ten years old doing the talking and the eight years old doing the dancing was his idea after all
Mr Lee smiles at him, like the old turtle he was, and sat down, waiting for him to speak
The old turtle seemed frail and sweet but he remembered being a child with him. It was all a play
Which makes him perfect for this project, he guess
So, let's convince the parents he knew what he was doing and what he was talking about despite never producing any school play
It went fairly well for the most of it
Every time he met Hoseok's stare, the other man was smiling, and that made him feel both excited and incredibly shy
But mostly gives him enough confidence at least finish the presentation of the general idea
When parents asked questions - price, time needed, how the parts would have been distributed - he tries to be as clear as he can
And hopes nobody will actually spot how much he still doesn't know
Eventually, the questions are over and the meeting is too, with a copy of the project to take home and a promise to see each other as soon as possible
Tae was putting in order his papers, trying carefully to not perceive either Hoseok nor Namjoon, but of course karma hates him
So a few of his pages fly down the desk, right in front of. Well. Of course Hoseok. Who else
It's not like he could have the worst face in the history of faces and just have his life passing by
No, he had to live his 5-hours-sleep-10-hours-work while wearing his most anonymous clothes and have something less of a Idol staring at his face
Wait
He was staring
He said something
He said absolutely something and Tae was just too far away in his head to hear anything oh my--
"everything alright?" Hoseok asked, and the question clearly triggered Namjoon attention, because he came close too
"ye-what-ye sure. I'm sorry, I must be a bit tired. Hi, Namjoon-ah"
Hoseok smiles at him, but Taehyung makes a weird face at the other man
Well, they clearly knew each other enough to drop some honorifics
Probably wasn't the first time Namjoon came instead of his parents to school stuff like this, Hoseok always knew he was a good big brother
"You did great" the young man says, to which Taehyung smiles a little. Namjoon walks over them but doesn't stop, heading towards the door
"I gotta go now, Hoseok-ssi, see you Tuesday. Tae, see you around"
"Watch your steps" both Tae and Hoseok say, which surprised them, but proved them right when Namjoon bumped into a desk
Then it was only them. And Tae knew it's gonna be awkward really soon.
"so, how you know him?" He asks. Oh, Jungkook babysitter. Makes sense
"and you?"
Taehyung makes a weird face, half displeasure.
"I'll tell you in the parking lot, I'll feel less irresponsible if I'm not at work"
Hoseok felt he has to decline and go straight home
Also stop asking about the private life of his kid's teacher and babysitter
Because that was none of his business
But he was a nice person and nice people listen to what others have to say, right?
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dallonm-archive · 3 years
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[image description: a cropped image of a pink sky. on the right hand side is a bunch of darker pink clouds. Just left of the centre is a full moon. In the centre, in a white serif font reads "writing update" /end id]
july writing update
Hi friends! This writing update is me pretending I did Camp Nano and didn't kinda give up a week in! I had a proper goal and everything, but a lot of things got in the way that I'm not gonna talk about here because I already ranted about it in another update I'm drafting rn. Lets just say it's Disability Pride Month and being not neurotypical or able bodied in writing communities and their inherent focus on productivity is Hard.
But I did get some writing done and wanted to do a little Camp wrap up post regardless. And I'm doing it now because I'm cancelling the last week of July for some rest/self care and I do not want to think about writing for that time and if I write a tumblr post about July Nano being over my brain will think it's actually over <3 I will probably do updates like these for most months tho! Depends on how much I write lol! This one is not too long (by my standards) and has some Revelations, Revelations, Life Cycle of Massive Stars, Nocturne for the Holy and a new wip idea 👁️
excerpts under the cut!
general taglist ; ask to be + or - ; i only have one! ; @childhoodlovers @svpphicwrites @abiandwriting @kowlazovdi @avi-why @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @bijouxs @bookphobe @moonhungers @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @oasis-of-you @coffeeandcalligraphy @cecilsstorycorner @howdywrites @keira-is-writing @flip-phones @piyawrites @avakrahn @goose-books @finch-goes-write @ziyin @aphaimaniis @isherwoodj @laughtracksonata
I'm also editing this in to say I only just realised that July is my writeblr birthday month and that is very weird to me! A year and a couple days ago I impulsively turned an old blog into a place to document writing for me and ended up meeting people who now mean the world to me and my writing blossoming in a way I never thought it would. And the funny part is it doesn't feel like it's been a year, ever since I joined it's just felt like life has Always been this way and I cannot fathom that it hasn't. I'm sappy bc it's 4am lol but ultimately the friends I made (you know who you are) and the community I found is what retaught me the value of writing and helped me unlearn toxic ideas and whilst the last year was tough I wish I could tell July 2020 Dallon (who did not realise he was Dallon yet </3) what July 2021 would look like.
revelations, revelations ;
Oh the absolute state of affairs with this book rn. Nothing bad but I don't know when I'm gonna update y'all because sometimes I do not know where to start when talking about this wip lol! Currently on a break with it (but also my thesis work is on late 20th century queer lit/history rn so am ever really free of RR? <3) but had a lot of fun with it at the end of June/start of July. Anyway here's Dorothy finally revealing more of herself to me after a year. Dorothy as a character is like, I truly believe she is capable of killing a man but the story she is in just does not allow that so I am trying to grow her unhinged side a little bit in other ways bc I know she has it in her but I also really cannot deal with the plot repercussions of her actually killing a man! I'm sorry Dotty but this'll have to do!
(cw for groping/a man being creepy as hell, death/funeral mention, drug mention, drowning imagery kinda)
There’s too much to tell Felix. That his sister lives on the fringe of Castro and has attended three funerals since September; that it’s January 11th and she’s already attended one this year. That his sister drives through sunsets and imagines parties: the amber dusk, warm mosaic tiles, platters of Greek salad skewers and shrimp tostadas, and sometimes Jolie joins her and they share a blunt on the hill. That his sister bought an aquamarine body-length dress for six bucks in a thrift store sale bin, so when her and Jolie broke up for the second time, she waltzed into a sunset party, locked arms with a CEO’s son and gave him a fake number and plucked strawberries out of champagne and blended so well nobody noticed when she left. That during the summer of ’83, his sister walked a neighbour’s Golden Retriever on Wednesdays, and on the sixth Wednesday he gave her a wad of tens with one hand and palmed the back of her neck with the other, so she walked his dog to the beach and stole another hundred from his wallet. That his sister bombed an interview for a Nursing school and didn’t get home until night and missed their monthly call, and Jolie heard the phone ring and didn’t take a message, so his sister snuck into the CEO’s son’s villa and floated in the centre of their heated pool like a cloud. A pause, a breath, an Opheliean threat.
life cycle of massive stars ;
Switched to LCOMS this month because I was burnt out with RR and it made such the difference! I really love working on two novels at once because it keeps me consistently creative but also both of these books are so different so its always refreshing to bounce back into one from another. I have a whole update in the drafts rn for this so keeping this part brief but still love this book, still the best thing that has ever happened to me, me and this book will have a glorious summer wedding etc etc. These excerpts are from chapters that summarise the first semester of each character's first year and have to say it. has been Very Fun to get into the mindset of Freshers Melodrama. Here's Junie having a crisis and an unhealthy relationship with her hetero flatmate :( (alcohol cw for both excerpts)
In October you are drinking double espresso and trying to breathe normally in lectures and you are trying to figure out your favourite colour because Fleur asked and you stumbled out an answer (Purple, I think. Violet? Lavender? Indigo?) and it didn’t match hers (I like yellow. I like sunlight). You buy mugs from IKEA to paint you paint cats and fireworks and constellations and moon phases and daisies. You try to scratch paint stains off your desk. You do laundry at 2am. In October you colour code your notes with pastel highlighters. You go to the library at 3am. You paint your nails sunlight and hate it. You finish an essay that’s due in December. You knock on Fleur’s door at 8am so she makes her 9am. You wear off the shoulder tops and you let a girl dab glitter on your collarbones and you are watching Fleur kiss a boy from the neighbouring hall. You bite your sunlight nails. You break the handle off your IKEA constellation mug. You leave your keys in a lecture hall and stand at the reception for forty minutes waiting for them to realise that the keys on the desk have the moon chain you mentioned - or, you are waiting to say it yourself. You are watching the rain trail down your window. In October you get a halo headband tangled in your hair you are sipping a vampire themed cocktail that tastes like acetone you rip your heels off and you go home early and do laundry at 2am and you are waiting for the courage to tell Fleur you don’t like clubbing - or, you are waiting for her to ask where you are. In October you are many things / a good student a dancer a painter an angel a big sister an alarm clock you are nocturnal and a lucid dreamer and confused about your sexuality / and it’s still October but it’s not because it’s November now and you are still Junie but not because you don’t know who Junie is. It’s November, it’s September October November December. It’s 2016 2017 2018 2019. You are fragments and you don’t know if you are a kaleidoscope or shattered glass.
And here's first year Tomas being like I Moved Countries For University And All I Got Was Homesickness And A Crush On My Flatmate And Resurging Autistic Symptoms And This Lousy T Shirt (cw: vomit mention, injection mention, parental death mention)
Kristen is seven months younger and five inches taller than you. He’s the last flatmate you met and the only one you talk to beyond kitchen greetings and passive aggressive texts about dirty dishes. He is too quiet and too loud and not the type of person you befriend. The first night, he lost Ring of Fire and downed the concoction of Echo Falls, Dark Fruits, Jack Daniels and coke, vodka and lemonade alongside a cigarette and said he’d let God figure out the rest. He held your hair back when you threw up amaretto and held onto your knee when you first self-injected testosterone. He taught you Yorkshire dialect and you pretended to understand the Yorkshire dialect. He told you he got diagnosed at four and you told him you didn’t get past the first assessment but sometimes you flick the bathroom light on and it’s fire: the orange on the orange towel is louder, the white on the white tiles are louder, the colours and light and sink and showerhead are prickly and all you can do is blink and breathe until it fizzles out. You reminded him to take his meds and asked if you were weak for wanting to drop out and hop on the first Eurostar to Rotterdam. He reminded you to take off your binder and asked if he was robotic for not grieving his mother. You spent inky nights on the kitchen floor, counting the dead flies in the lights and scooping crumbly coconut ice cream out of a maker you got for half price in TK Maxx. You spent dusk-dusted afternoons at the global street food markets, at the vegan markets. Spent student loans on raspberry lemonade in recycled cups, veggie burgers in beetroot buns, got him hooked on poffertjes and advocaat and could’ve cried when the vendor spoke to you in Dutch. Sometimes you didn’t buy anything. Just liked hovering at stalls ambered with fairy lights, writing down Etsy stores on your notes app; just liked Kristen’s impulse to trek forty minutes into the city for a market he didn’t know existed until five minutes before; just liked how he always invited only you, cancelling your other plans last minute, the feeling of being ambushed; just liked how he stopped to take photos of dogs and the sunset; just liked how he looked haloed under lampposts waiting for Ubers, golden on golden.
This is also nearing creative nonfiction because Sheffield truly is a haven for just. vegan markets and cafes lol! I experimented with veganism there and never struggled to find something and at this point I call myself a fake vegan because it's too easy to be vegan in Sheffield and too difficult to be vegan in my actual hometown. And the global street food markets!!! SO GOOD! I miss pre pandemic days
nocturne for the holy ;
Giving her a little shout out because she does exist actually! I've figured out a really good system for working on two novels at a time, so my plan is maybe to start properly on this after I finish either RR or LCOMS. Idk I got 3 novels to pick from haha oops! I did do some free drafting back in April though and found it recently and I Like It! And I edited it so it counts as Something I Did This Month :) Also have decided that I loathe this working title <3 Okay see you with an update for this novel in like a year, sorry for the absolute zero context for this excerpt hehe
The morning I was due back, I hadn’t yet decided that this would be my last visit. I wandered between rooms like an overstayed guest, like I didn’t know which crockery lived in which cabinet and which bedroom had the best view of the overlapped hills. Dad would wake for his run in an hour, plastered to his twenty-year-old routine. Mum would pretend to be asleep until breakfast. Until then, it was myself and the house, hazed by sleepy sunrise. Downstairs. The peeling paisley wallpaper in the lounge, the lilies in the middle of the kitchen table, the vases of candy floss pink peonies wilting on every windowsill, the desolate double swing-set in the garden. The mist-clogged mornings. I stood outside in my dressing-gown until my fingertips felt numb. Upstairs. The sage coloured bathroom. The bathtub I’d laze in with my clothes on and no water because it was the quietest room in the house. The dusty dance trophies on the top of my wardrobe. Wine-flushed Jeanette in my teenage bedroom. The stale grey mum painted my teenage bedroom after I moved out. Minus their room, I stalked the layout of the house three times before settling back into bed - teenage Nora’s bed. Nora who cared for peonies and pushed her brother on the swing set and flung her ceramic ballerina at the wall and jogged with her father and collected wine bottles and acorns and kisses from girls who were supposed to visit for dance practice. Before I left, I’d have cycled each room another three times. And in every room he was there, hovered in the corner like black mould.
love this update bc it's like i've got my third person, my second person, my first person! collecting all the POVs like chaos emeralds :)
eulogy for our burnings ;
-looks away-
girl help I did it AGAIN!!!! Apparently Camp Nano is just the perfect time for me to get novel ideas. I made this post specifically to talk a bit about this because I have no idea when I'll draft it but it's certainly not soon. This is not me trying to doubt my own skill but I feel like I am not in the place I'd like to be as a writer to tackle this project with the zest it needs, however I am v excited by the prospect of it! Don't know how I feel about the working title bc I'm like "that doesn't sound right but I don't know enough about this wip to dispute it" but the only purpose my working titles serve is to sound pretty lol! But here's the tea:
1991, UK.
2nd person present + past. Very flexible form. I can't decipher how yet but I'm feeling interviews, newspaper articles, receipts, grocery store lists weaved with actual narrative, that kinda vibe.
Best summary is we follow our nameless narrator, a stealth trans man, as he becomes unhealthily obsessed with a man who "hires" him to photograph the buildings he burns
Very,,, isolated? Minimal settings, minimal characters, minimal prose etc. Almost claustrophobic
There's basically only two characters and they are probably the most morally deplorable, indefensible characters I've created which just means most of you are gonna LOVE this /lh I do too I do too
Only comp title I can give is it has the vibes/tone of Boy Parts by Eliza Clark (just with none of the nsfw content lol if you've read the book you know what I'm talking about) (also that book is great for morally deplorable women protagonists but omg look up the content warnings because it caught me off guard! enjoyed it tho gave it 4 stars)
The pinterest board is the best visualisation of the Vibes also follow me on pinterest lol
And that's all I've got today! A bigger Life Cycle of Massive Stars update coming in the next few weeks. Might do a proper intro post for Eulogy For Our Burnings but idk!!! It's a surprise :) Thank you for reading this far!
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lostbbygorl · 3 years
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IN ANOTHER LIFE, FOR SURE: EREMIKA
Genre: FLUFF, MODERN AU, SLIGHT CANONVERSE AU, REINCARNATION AU
~~~~~~
Once again, Mikasa lay curled up in a ball like a kitten on top of Eren’s grave. Armin and Jean watched the sight of the young girl refusing to leave the side of her lover, even in death, a month after his passing, with melancholy in their eyes.
Mikasa told herself and everyone else that she was fine. She was strong, and nothing could change the past (Well, Eren could…). She knew she was lying, and so did everyone else, but what’s a girl to do if the man she’s loved since childhood were to never awaken again, and that too for the safety of humanity? She sobbed and she sobbed, and then she covered up all traces that she sobbed. It was a regular cycle. It was tiring. Nobody knew when it would end, but everyone mustered up all the sensitivity they had in them, and didn’t pressure her to make it end.
But enough is enough, and we all hit our breaking point. Mikasa Ackerman hit hers on a peaceful morning in a bed of bright purple flowers as a majestic bird flew over her. Connie had realized that Mikasa was sleeping longer than usual, and when he stooped down to shake her gently so that she’d rise, the horrified boy noticed that she was completely still, and devoid of any pulse, breath, or heartbeat.
And so, the last Ackerman woman was buried beside her lover, and teary eyes surrounded their eternal slumbers as friends and family said goodbye to them one last time.
The second time Mikasa opened her eyes, she was in a room with pastel walls and toys littered on the floor. Hey grey orbs were met by two overjoyed faces. One of a blond man, and the other of a raven haired woman. They fed her milk, played with her, and gave her unconditional love. And so, Mikasa grew into a beautiful, sensible young woman for the second time. Her life was a dream! Two amazing parents, a group of loyal friends, and unmatched beauty to top it all of, along with good grades of course.
But there was something she absolutely couldn’t explain! Mikasa would sometimes wake up in a cold sweat after a horrible nightmare, and sometimes a queer dream. These dreams didn’t occur every night, but they weren’t terribly infrequent either. Mikasa saw gigantic, hideous man eating beasts, and young ones around her age whooshing threw the air with blades to decapitate the beasts. She often saw herself behead the creatures, and she saw her best friend, Armin beside her too, along with her other friends. The less scary ones were just as confusing. She saw visions of herself on horseback riding through a dense forest, she saw visions of herself sparring with teens in military style uniforms. But the most confusing dreams, and the most common ones, consisted of a tall boy with dark hair and turquoise eyes.
She saw herself run beside him and fight beside him. She caught his name twice. What was it again? Oh, yeah, Eren Yeager. Mikasa had no idea why she saw this boy so often, and why a part of her mourned for him and yearned for him too. Oftentimes when she had nothing else to do, she’d wonder who he was, and if he did exist, was he doing well? A familiar sense of fondness washed over her everytime she thought of him.
It was finally time for her to go to college. The first day of college fell on the first snowfall, and it was cold outside. Mikasa shot Armin and Sasha a quick text to see if they were waiting outside the college campus for her as planned the week before, and then proceeded to leave her apartment, the keychains of her black Jansport backpack dangling as she walked.
The college halls bustled with chatter as new students and welcoming teachers conversed with each other and scurried around to find their classes. Armin was going off about his linguistics major and his excitement for his first class. Mikasa listened with a small smile on her face, till a particular new student nearly made her heart stop…
Standing in front of her was the boy she had been seeing in her sleep for the past 19 years. He was a tall, well built boy with his shoulder length hair tied in a halfway man bun, gleaming turquoise eyes, and a boyish smile that the girls definitely went wild over! He was currently talking to a shorter, lean female professor who Armin mentioned was Ms. Hange Zoe, the biomedicals head. “I feel like that subject will be the most interesting, what about you Mika? Mika? Hello! Earth to Mikasa!”, Armin said, taking her attention back to him. “Huh? Sorry. I zoned out”, she murmured.
“You were staring at that dude”
“Wasn’t”
“Was”
“Wasn’t”
“Hey, guys. Are yall new here too?”, the third voice joined in. It was Eren Yeager! Or at least, his doppleganger.
“Uh yeah. Hey, I’m Armin, and this is my best friend Mikasa”, Armin introduced.
“Nice to meet you both. I’m Eren”, the boy returned. The blood in Mikasa’s ears rushed and her hands quivered at Eren’s words.
“So, what are your subjects?”, Eren asked.
“I’m doing linguistics”, Armin chirped.
“Um, I’m doing psychology, Eren”, Mikasa stammered as she looked into his all too familiar eyes.
“Oh wow. Me and you are both doing psychology then. I shall see you in class”, he grinned.
“I wanna hang with you too though, Armin”, he added in a friendly manner. Armin and Eren made more small talk as Mikasa’s brain whirred 1000 miles per second. How? What the? One thing was for sure though, she’d get to the bottom of this boy no matter what!
“Um, can I have your numbers?”, Eren asked.
“Yeah sure. Armin, give him my number. I gotta rush to the toilet real quick”
“Sure, Mika”.
Mikasa ran to the nearest ladies washroom and locked herself in a free cubicle. There, she hyperventilated and attempted to calm down.
Her dreams would for sure be getting more intense tonight.
The fluttering of her heart and the tiny rays of sadness that she linked with this familiarly unfamiliar boy sure had gotten more intense….
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ggukkiedae · 3 years
Text
❝𝕒𝕣𝕥❞
𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜:
⇢ jungkook takes yoonmi to get his birthday/christmas gifts for her
⇢ set in mid january 2021
𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜:
⇢ conversations written in italics are spoken in english. requests and feedback are highly appreciated!
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Yoonmi excitedly bounced in her seat, making Jungkook chuckle.
He was currently driving her to his tattoo artist because of his promised Christmas/birthday gift for her.
Her tattoos.
“Would you sit still?” he placed a hand on her knee to keep her from moving. “If you’re like this until we get there, your tattoos might end up looking weird.”
She laughed but stilled herself. “Sorry, I’m just excited. A little nervous, too. Does it hurt a lot?”
“Think of it as training,” Jungkook told her. “It’s painful, but we get used to it and eventually get a great outcome.”
Yoonmi nodded at that and looked back out the window at the buildings passing by. She couldn’t believe she was finally getting her tattoos. At first, she was pretty hesitant because she didn’t know if fans would take it well, but, with Jungkook’s encouragement, she decided it was fully her choice and nobody else should be able to dictate whether she gets a tattoo or not.
Well, she’s getting four.
One was going on her right pinkie, one on the side of her right hand, one on the side of her left wrist, and one under her left arm just below her shoulder. They were pretty small, so she and Jungkook both figured they could do it all in one day.
“Do you think it’ll look nice together?” she asked Jungkook.
“I’m absolutely positive it’ll look amazing,” he reassured her. “We tried it out, remember? It all turned out pretty well. Look at that, we’re here.”
Yoonmi’s face lit up as soon as Jungkook parked the car. She turned and grabbed her bag from the backseat. Her jump made Jungkook laugh when she turned back towards the door only to find that he had opened it for her. nearly eleven years of living with boys who always do this for her, and she’s still always surprised.
He led her into the building and towards the receptionist who smiled at him.
“Nice to see you again, Jungkook,” the receptionist smiled at him before turning his smile to Yoonmi. “You, too, Yoonmi. You weren’t here last time Jungkook came.”
“She’s been busy with her boyfriend,” Jungkook laughed.
She whined at him. “Oppa, that’s not fully true. We’ve been busy with our music.”
“I heard,” the receptionist chuckled as he checked his computer. “It says here that Yoonmi’s getting four tattoos? Wow, and on your first time, too!”
“They’re all pretty small, and I’ve been thinking about them for a long time, now,” she smiled back.
“Let's get you settled in, then.”
Not ten minutes later, she finds herself settled in the tattoo parlor chair with Jungkook, upon his and Yoonmi’s request, placing the stencils on the same places he’d been drawing her tattoos for the past year and a half. The tattoo artist tied her hair as she watched the two in the mirror.
“Those are interesting tattoo choices,” she started a conversation with Yoonmi. “If it’s alright, may I ask who came up with them?”
“I kinda conceptualized them, but Ggukoo oppa drew them,” Yoonmi smiled proudly before Jungkook lightly smacked her arm.
“How many times do I have to tell you to stay still when I’m drawing your tattoos on you?”
“You aren’t even drawing them, and they’re cold, okay?”
“Just sit still!”
The tattoo artist laughed at the two of them bickering before taking her seat next to Yoonmi. She gently sanitized the areas surrounding the stencils placed by Jungkook and the needle that she would use. Jungkook stood on Yoonmi’s other side, a hand on her head as reassurance.
“We’ll start with the coloured ink on your arm, alright?” the tattooist told the younger. “Then we’ll do the black one on your wrist then move over to your right side for the hand one and the pinky one.”
“Sounds good,” Yoonmi nodded.
Jungkook leaned forward a little to ask a question. “Is it okay if I get a touch up on my pinky tattoo as well?”
Yoonmi laughed alongside the tattooist at Jungkook’s inquiry. She grinned when the tattooist agreed to do it, and for free. It was their matching tattoo that she was sure Jungkook would show off to the rest of Bangtan as soon as they got home.
The next hour was spent with Yoonmi telling the tattoo artist about why she chose those specific tattoos while Jungkook watched the whole process of everything from as close as he physically could without disrupting anything. He’d gently pat her head whenever she flinched from the pain, but her overall ability to hide her pain kept her from reacting too much. It didn’t take as long as she expected. Pretty soon, everything was finished, and the tattoo artist gave her some time to look at them before she wrapped them up.
“Woah,” she murmured as her eyes scanned over the dark lines over her slightly red skin. “This is unreal.”
She reached over her lap to touch the word “breathe” on her hand, but Jungkook lightly gripped her arm to stop her. “Not a good idea, Mimi. How about you take a look at the one on your arm, yeah?”
She gratefully accepted the handheld mirror he handed to her and angled it so she could see her tattoo. The heart from their Love Yourself series settled proudly on her harm, it’s pastel colors standing out against her skin. Her jaw dropped, and he lifted her hand to touch it.
“No,” Jungkook gently pushed her arm down, “no touching, remember?” Not yet.”
“Right,” Yoonmi laughed before turning back to her tattooist, “sorry about that. They look amazing!”
“Thank you,” the older smiled while taking Yoonmi’s arms to cover her tattoos in a clear plastic wrap for protection. “I like to think I bring my clients’ ideas to life well. Now, I know you know the aftercare procedure because Jungkook says you help him with his, but I legally still have to give it to you. Actually, go up front and they’ll explain over there. I’ll just touch up Jungkook’s pinkie then get you your aftercare products.”
Yoonmi nodded as she left the room and headed to the receptionist who gave her a smile and sat her down to begin explaining. She nodded along to the steps, refreshing them in her mind so she wouldn’t forget. It was a little hard to concentrate, though, considering she has little pieces of art finally ingrained into her body.
“That’s everything you need to know,” the receptionist told her. “Jungkook’s on his way out here, so let me go help look for the moisturizers and soaps.”
She bowed at the receptionist as he walked towards the back. Jungkook took a seat next to her and observed her for a second before leaning forward. He lifted her right hand and folded all her fingers except her pinkie. He stuck his out as well and smiled.
“Looks like this is real now,” he pulled out his phone to take a photo. He then turned his camera to take a video of the two of them, to which she smiled towards. “Hyungs! Guess who has tattoos now!”
“Me!” she giggled while showing off her wrist.
Jungkook smiled and sent the video to their group chat. She couldn’t contain her excitement as the tattooist came to hand her a little paper bag with a moisturizer, sun cream, soap, and ointment while Jungkook stood by the counter with the receptionist to pay. Her smile did not leave her face at all. Not while she took a photo of each of her tattoos and sent them to her parents and to her older brothers. Not while she got into the passenger’s side of Jungkook’s car. Especially not when she saw how excited the other Bangtannies were in the group chat to see it in person.
Jungkook laughed at her excitement. “You send then to Mark yet?”
“No,” she shut her phone while shaking her head, “I asked him, and he wants to see it for the first time in real life.”
It was then when she turned to Jubgkook, widening her eyes and jutting out her lower lip. Her actions made Jungkook chuckle. It was clear she was asking Jungkook to drive her to her boyfriend’s dorm.
“How about this,” he began, “I take you home, and we leave your tattoos to heal fully for the next week. Then I’ll take you to their place, alright?”
“Okay!”
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jaysworlds · 3 years
Text
When Gerard Keay is seven years old his dad buys him a pair of scarlet welly boots. They are an early birthday present, and his mother does not approve, but he wears them anyway. They are bright and comfortable and they enable him to jump into puddles without soaking his feet.
He is not supposed to jump into puddles, but his dad takes him down country trails and through muddy fields and he treasures the time. It is not often that he is allowed to just be.
He loses them a year later in a puddle that was just a little too deep, and he is distraught. His dad carries him home and promises him a new pair, just as soon as they get the chance to go shopping.
It never happens. There is a storm a week later, and in the jagged white light that splits the sky Gerry finds his dad’s body and his mother standing over it with a knife.
Some part of Gerry cannot help but blame himself. Perhaps if he had kept his boots safe they could have gone out, that night. Perhaps his dad would have lived.
It is a ridiculous notion, of course, but he cannot shake it. It stays with him as he grows, and he can never bring himself to buy a replacement. Not even when his mother is dead and he is finally free of her.
Free, but alone.
He tries to be kind. Kindness was what his dad taught him, and he keeps that close to his heart, as if the man is there in every kind word or deed. He does not want to turn out like his mother.
He does not mean to find work at his dad’s old workplace, but it somehow feels fitting. He had known the man had left, but he had not known why.
Gertrude Robinson does not like him, and he does not like her either, but she is all he has, and so he has no choice but to work with her. He goes against her over and over again and yet she never throws him out, and perhaps he likes that. She does not love him, but he is not afraid of losing her.
She keeps a picture of his parents in her office, and he steals it, when he finds it, tears his mother out of it and keeps what is left hidden in his breast pocket. He does not look at it very often, but it is enough to know it’s there.
He fights and drinks and burns his way through the world, thunder rumbling in his chest, but to others he is always kind. He does not know how to be anything else.
He is so angry when he finally learns the story of why his dad left the institute. Angry with his father for not trying to stick it out, for blinding himself and leaving himself at the mercy of a woman who had none, but more than that he is angry with himself for going back. He feels like he betrayed his dad by returning, by working with Gertrude.
But he does not quit, though it does not have quite enough hold on him to keep him there. He could leave if he wished, but he does not.
And he is so alone. The loneliness grows too much, some nights, but there is nothing he can do. For all his kindness, he has no friends, no family.
He has nothing. Nothing but a memory of a man who told him to be kind.
He hopes his dad would be proud of him. Of everything he’s done and tried to do.
Once, just once, he dreams of the man.
He is standing alone in a muddy field that stretches out as far as the eye can see, and he is wearing scarlet boots. He does not see his dad but somehow he knows the man is there, and he calls out. He asks are you proud of me and why couldn’t you stay and I can’t do this alone.
For a moment there is no reply, just the wind whipping through his hair, but the wind carries whispers and he closes his eyes to listen.
You were always strong the wind tells him, speaking in his dad’s voice. I’m so proud of you, and I know you’re strong enough to do this on your own.
No, Gerry tries to say, tries to call out, but the wind has died down.
The last thing he hears is a soft whisper of I love you, and then he is awake.
He does not believe in an afterlife, but for a single moment he allows himself to imagine that it was truly his dad, speaking to him from the great unknown.
It is nothing but a lie, of course, but a gentle one.
It helps, a little. He is less afraid to be alone, and on his worst nights he imagines his dad watching over him.
Meeting the Distortion is nothing but a happy accident. Gertrude had not wanted him to meet it, and it does not take him long to find out why. He cannot find it in himself to be angry with her, but he no longer trusts her.
And then he has nobody at all.
The Distortion calls itself Michael, and it will not leave him alone. It is curious about him, he thinks, but he does not know for certain. All he knows is that it is there more often than it is not.
It’s odd, but he is not afraid of it. He should be, perhaps, but he does not think it will harm him. It speaks to him, sometimes, and it is not human but he still tries to be kind.
He does not think anyone has tried to be kind to it before.
It stays and he continues to be kind, and it never hurts him. It seems perhaps a little bashful around him, shy and skittish, and it will not touch him for very long, though he imagines it pulls away with some reluctance. It is an enigma wrapped up in pastel colours and curly blond hair, but he is inexplicably all too fond of it.
He wishes that he could speak to his dad about it, that he could ask for advice. He does not know how to act around it and he has never been in love before but he thinks that he is now.
He has no one to ask, but he holds the dream of his dad close to his heart. I know you’re strong enough to do this on your own.
He is, in the end. Michael, or that which calls itself Michael, is remarkably gentle to him and when he kisses it he finds hands woven into his hair and almost-human lips against his, and everything seems to be alright.
And then he isn’t alone anymore.
Time passes, and it does not leave him. The fear that it will slowly begins to ebb until it is barely there at all.
He loves it, as much as he can love anything, and he trusts that it loves him too, though it has odd ways of showing it. It does not often tell him outright.
It does not need to sleep, but some nights it seems to, and on one of those rare nights a storm breaks, right over their heads.
Gerry does not like storms, but Michael is sleeping deeply, or perhaps pretending to. It does not stir as he slips out of bed and down the stairs, padding on silent feet out of the door and into the garden. Rain is pounding on the roof and he is soaked in seconds, his thin shirt doing nothing to keep away the chill.
Thunder cracks above his head and lighting splits the sky, and he thinks of finding his dad dead, blood staining the thick carpet.
It has been years since then and he still misses the man so much it aches, deep in his chest, and he finds that the rain is not the only water on his face.
I miss you, he calls, up into the clouds, and the only reply is another crack of thunder that he feels to his core.
There will never be a reply. His dad is gone, and never coming back.
He turns to head back inside, to the comfort of Michael, of their bed, and for a moment he pauses.
He is alone, of course, in a cold, empty garden, but perched on the step is a pair of bright scarlet welly boots.
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