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dzpenumbra · 2 years

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10/7/22

Welp. Bed again. The days feel so short right now. I don't know why. Feels like the day just blows by. Maybe because I'm on Twitch again. And watching someone do a subathon. So I'm just sorta... in time warp, I guess.

I wrote some drums today for my brother's music. I think our styles could compliment eachother pretty well. I don't want to step on his toes too much, but it's a fun challenge to try to write drums for weird math rock riffs in like... 23/16 and shit. I mean that honestly, it does this really cool thing to the way I look at music. Let me explain...

See, when you're playing guitar, any lead instrument really... I just use guitar as a reference point, since it's my weapon of choice. You get into this mindset of writing phrases as bars. Like... here's this 1-2 bar chunk in 4/4 and we just loop that a few times, maybe throw some variation fills on the ends or something. What really elevates a lot of musicians (and I've heard other composers say this as well) is their ability to start playing/writing over the bars. So it becomes more flowing and what they're playing is sorta happening parallel to the music under it. An accompaniment, kinda. Vocals tend to take this role a lot, or a guitar solo. But adding that into all of your playing, without things getting too chaotic to be legible or resonant is a tricky one. It takes a gut feeling. What my brother does is very interesting to me... because it is very clearly a combination of these. He wants to push the limits of complexity and legibility, but still fit inside a bar. Maybe I'm not phrasing that correctly, it's a bit complex. Let me add, he's also sorta seeming to transcend bars entirely. Which is really the thing I was leading towards, okay, maybe I just got ahead of myself there. He writes these riffs that are just like... cool riffs... I don't know how else to put it. They're very organic. But they come out all at once and without a real underlying time signature. I'm assuming, that is. I tried to get him to show me the pulses under his riffs, but it's hard for me to communicate it, and I think it is for him too. It's probably because we're both self-taught and were never too big on music theory - which is literally the language of music - so no wonder we struggle to communicate these things sometimes! XD

So he writes riffs that just sound cool. Just like Meshuggah, which is really cool to see that pattern. And he just sorta counts out the beats in it and plops down a time signature for that bar. So there's like a bar of 23/16 then 5/4, then it alternates. Just for an example. So the struggle I have with that is I can be hearing a completely different underlying pulse than he is. I could hear a quarternote pulse, or an eighth but separated differently. Like he might be breaking up the 23/16 as 8-8-8-2 and I might be breaking it up as 8-8-6-4. And even that subtle difference can just change the entire thing.

So a lot of the drum work I did today was kinda guessing, trying to hear the... shapes... I don't know, music is very shape-like to me, that's just language I learned in... but like... trying to hear the subdivided accents, the note groupings, the note clusters, the way I think he might hear it. It's hard for me to phrase. Like... when you hear someone pronounce a word differently than you, like if they put the emphasis on the wrong syllable. That kind of effect. That's a common problem I've had in the past with trying to teach people riffs I wrote, so now that I can identify it better, I'm trying to get ahead of it.

So yeah, it came out pretty cool. There was a long ringing-out chords section so I just left the drums off it and left it open to talk about it. I hope he touches base tomorrow, there's a whole album worth of shit to write for here and I'm eager to crank out some tracks.

The rest of the night was eating takeout that my Mom brought by because she's awesome. SketchDaily - which I honestly wasn't proud of but people liked anyway I guess? Played some Rimworld and lost. Then fired up Minecraft for a little. That was like... the entire day. And I feel like... I don't know... it was productive! It really was. But I still feel lazy. And like it was just... a day. I don't like that feeling.

I'm still not sure what's going on with my infection thing. I shaved my head again and it seems to get better when I do that. I stopped taking antibiotics yesterday so... if it's still visibly bad tomorrow, I guess I'm gonna call back that doctor. Because I really don't wanna take more antibiotics than I absolutely need to.

God, is this the whole growing-up and I'm afraid of everything because I am deeply familiar with loss and the fragility of life thing? Dude, it was so much easier to just say fuck it and get on an airplane and fly to fuckin Vegas when I didn't give a fuck about what could go wrong. And Xanax sure did help with that shit. You want a med that will make you not give a fuck about consequences? Xanax will do the trick. And people hand that shit out like candy, which is really fucked because it's extremely addictive and the withdrawal from it almost killed me. So yeah, I would deeply, sincerely warn everyone away from those. It is NOT worth it. I don't care the argument. They work, yes. But they do more damage than good. Allow me to explain.

When you are on benzos regularly - I mean every day, most of the waking hours if not all day - you very quickly start to just lose... feeling. Caring. They numb all your feelings - not just your fear, but your sense of accomplishment, your pride, your sadness, all of it. You just become... apathetic, but in a very neutral way. So sure, if you have your fear turned off, you can get off your ass and go to the grocery store, or go skydiving or whatever. Yes. You can perform those actions, you can make your body get up and move from one location to the other, you can pull things off the shelves, you can jump out of the plane. Yes. BUT. You are not practicing performing those actions with fear present. AT ALL. Which is not the problem. Fucking dipshit doctors. The problem is not "I don't know how to shop for food at the grocery store, and I'm too scared to go and learn." The problem is "My fear and insecurity gets between me and the grocery store, and I don't feel strong enough to overcome or endure it." The fear is the problem. And instead of sitting down and conversing with the fear, instead of working through it, instead of practicing facing it in a safe environment, with supportive people who care and want to see you grow. NOPE. Take these pills that numb your fear and go get your goddamn groceries. And then... when you come off the meds? You will now have gotten used to not having fear. And when you feel it again for the first time? It will haunt you. Like being scared of the boogeyman in the closet as a kid kinda fear, if any of you can even remember that feeling. I do.

So... again. In the long run, benzos make things worse. The best way to work through these things, in my experience and opinion, is something you can't synthesize in a lab and sell for a huge markup. It's a good, caring friend. "I'll go to the store with you, we can go prove that fear wrong, and if anything goes wrong, I'm right there with you." "I'll go skydiving with you, we can go prove that fear wrong, and if anything goes wrong, I'm right there with you."

Full-circle to that again. I'd get used to it. With the move on my mind, it's really just sitting in the front row of my anxieties. All I want is a friend in the city I'm moving to, someone to do shit with. I've never moved and not had that before. It's really spooking me. But I may have no choice. I could try to twist my brother's arm to see if he would move up with me, but I don't want to pressure him. He hasn't moved much in life and it clearly is very difficult for him to engage with. Understandably so. It's like... voluntary trauma.

But again, not all trauma is bad. It's just... profound change. Paradigm shifts. Tower moments. Rebirth. Volunteering for that is like... well... like being Luke Skywalker finding out the legend that his father was, and being given an opportunity to avenge his death. In a way, it was much easier for fate to have had his home destroyed. Now he has no choice but to go on his quest. Try to get an adult to pack their bags and move...

I miss the excitement. I miss the anticipation. There's gonna be a lot of cool shit up there! And delivery from really cool places all nearby, whenever I want. Places open 24/7, good lord! I haven't lived anywhere with a place open 24/7 since like... 2013 or some shit. Snowskating in a small city should be really cool, too.

But... as with all of life... all I want is someone to share it with.

And this branch of the thought train tonight came from earlier being pissed off that I have to start looking for someone to date in my new area after I move. Because Bumble won't let me do Travel Mode or whatever unless I pay $40/month and they can fuck right the hell off with that shit. I've been using dating sites for a long-ass time, they have never needed subscriptions until now. I really don't wanna hear the "poor companies and their overhead" sob story anymore. You used to allow me to see who swiped on me, so I don't have to rely on blind luck to find people. I can actually be brave and confident and send them a message. Now... well okay I guess to a degree you can still do that, but I'm just pissed that I can't just reset my town. If you want to squeeze Zoomers for money because they all just want to run around trying to fuck as many people as possible and shirk personal, emotional connection at all costs... fuckin go for it. But trying to shake down a dude in his mid-thirties, never married, no kids who works from home and has no friends? Bro it's like that Bumble logo's got me in a dark alley trying to snake my fucking shoes or some shit. You know all my info, you know that I'm in this demographic. Please don't make dating any harder than it already is for people like us! Go shake down fuckin "Tanner" with his profile picture on his family yacht in fuckin Key Largo or some shit.

So yeah. Not a big day today. But big thoughts stemming off reflecting on it. We'll see what tomorrow brings, I have a feeling it's gonna have to be more packing and cleaning because my landlords are inspecting the place either Monday or Tuesday. <hides in a hole and doesn't come out> Get those fingers crossed for me on that one, that's gonna be like... peak humiliation/disappointment shit right there... and I'm gonna have to sit there in the house and face it because I gotta stay with my cat. Ugh. Maybe I can get my brother to come over and play video games so... like... they don't make a scene or something. And so I'm not alone with that. Idk, I'll think about it tomorrow.

#diary #journal #stream of thoughts #spilled thoughts #online journal #mental health #stream of consciousness #online diary

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cowardnthief · 2 years

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10 actual ADHD study tips

from a student with ADHD

(or if you just have trouble concentrating)

1. put your phone in different room.

no, really. there can be any number of excuses not to (i use it as an alarm/timer, what if there's an emergency, but i use it during breaks) but i guarantee that you will focus better without the ability to check your social media. if you're genuinely worried about missing a phone call, don't put it on silent, and leave it across the room so you can hear it, but make sure it's out of reach.

2. invest in some noise-cancelling or muffling headphones.

they're a life-saver. i use them to help with sensory overloads, but now i wear them pretty much every time i study. regular headphones with some kind of neutral backing noise also work pretty well.

3. don't listen to music.

maybe somewhere, somehow, there exists a person who can actually listen to music and focus, but i've never met one. my adhd means i get distracted by anything. i'm a good multitasker, but not when the task requires lots of thought, like my science or math homework, or that english essay i've been putting off. if science is distracting for you as well, put on a neutral background noise (no, not lo-fi hiphop beats - unless that works for you). i usually put rain sounds or white or brown noise (the latter is my favourite).

4. break big tasks into small chunks.

you've probably heard this one before, but adhd makes tackling big tasks seem really daunting. like, where do you even start? before beginning a massive project, make a list of every little thing you need to do. it might seem stupid or excessive, but i can't stress how much it helps. it also gives you a sense of accomplishment whenever you knock a task off the list.

5. if you know you're gonna procrastinate, try and do it productively.

this one is one i'm still getting used to. i realised, after hours of sitting at my desk, not wanting to start on my essay but not wanting to actively NOT write my essay, and just generally feeling like shit, that it would have been better to spend those hours doing that thing i wanted to do (learn that song on my guitar, finally finish the painting sitting on my desk, write the poem that i had scribbled in my notebook a week ago). if you know you're not going to get started on your work, you might as well do something else that isn't as pressing but you still need to get done. it's okay not to be 100% productive al the time.

6. have a clear workspace.

this is a big one. i found that having a lot of stuff on or around my desk just makes me feel fenced in. i like to have 1 lamp, 1 cup of pens/pencils/highlighters, a cup of tea, tissues, and whatever i'm working on. when you're done with a task, PUT IT AWAY ASAP. that way, it doesn't build up, and you can feel ready to start on the next thing.

6.5. eliminate distractions.

i feel like this relates to the point above, but don't have lots of visible posters/lights/tempting tasks. maybe close your blinds or your door, or study in a library instead of your room if it is too bright and colourful.

7. the pomodoro method (organising your breaks).

LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS. the pomodoro method involves working for a consistent slot of time (usually 25 minutes, but whatever works for you) and then having a short break (5-10 minutes), and then a long break every 2-5 "slots" (15-20 minutes). if you don't trust yourself to stick to a timer, get a cute app on your laptop - there are heaps of different themes, and it will help you organise your time and tasks. instead of thinking about a task like "it will take me 2 hours", think about it like "it will take me 4 slots of time", and it will be much less daunting.

(note: for your breaks, try not to reach for your phone/social media. this is a rabbit hole. maybe draw for a minute, or read a few pages of a book. do something you can easily and quickly put away.)

8. organise yourself, but try not to hyperfixate on it.

apps like notion can be really helpful when organising tasks/your workspace, but they can also suck hours of your time away if you're not careful. not everything has to be perfect/meticulously planned, and you're not working on your homework by planning your weekly schedule. speaking from experience, it's really easy to get caught up in something that may feel productive, but really isn't.

9. this is really niche, but... for my reading-glasses wearers:

WEAR THEM WHEN YOU STUDY. i'm very mildly farsighted, which means wearing glasses when i read for long periods of time helps me prevent headaches. technically, i can go without them, and for a few years i usually did, but i've noticed that wearing them when i study has the benefit of getting me in the right headspace, and also stops me from looking up or around my room too often, as the prescription makes me dizzy when looking at things far away.

10. just get started.

i know you hate hearing this, but usually, knocking one or two things off your list can help you get motivated. often, things that seem really difficult or time consuming aren't as bad once you've gotten started.

good luck!

#gonna be so embarrassed if i post this and no one sees it but eh #i'll use it for myself #ironically i wrote this instead of studying #feel free to rb with your own tips #adhd #actually autistic #study tips #actually adhd #adhd in #neurodivergent #executive dysfunction #living with adhd #adhd post

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ashthemadwriter-archived · 2 years

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Hello there

Frist of all, congratulations on 300 followers!

So.. I'm a 5'1 girl, pretty short and tiny, AND I get mad when people tease me about it.

I love fighting and mortal arts like ninjutsu and Kickboxing (I'm pretty good at both)

I'm confident and independent and pretty good at making others calm, I enjoy alcohol, especially red wine, my MBTI type is ISTP-A

I like rock and roll and I play drum and electric guitar

I have a hot-headed, short-tempered and loud side for most people but I also have a soft and gentle side for people I love

I'm pretty loyal and I hate cheating on people, I also love writing stories and poetry

In a relationship, I can be so romantic and soft, I will be loyal and thoughtful(I also like to write poems for them)

Well that's pretty much it! I would love you to find me a match from Bungou stray dogs

Thank you and I wish you a great day~♡

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: None

Word Count: 0.7K

A/n: tysm honey :>💕

My 300 follower event!

I match you with...

Chuuya Nakahara!

Ok girl! when I was reading your info I got really amazed! It was like you were describing Chuuya! It's just crazy how similar you are to him!

Unlike some people who cannot stand a person with a similar attitude/personality as them, Chuuya definitely enjoys being around someone like himself; because he considers people around him as weirdos and though he cares about them a lot, he finds it really hard to deal with them sometimes. So... It's nice to have someone who relates to him in many levels and is very thoughtful and understanding.

People keep commenting on your height? Well, with having someone as annoying as Dazai around who would use literally any information to tease him, He definitely relates to you. He hates it when others keep staring at him, not believing that he's actually a port mafia executive.

But what he secretly likes is that you're shorter than him, even if it's only a little bit. Almost everyone around him are taller than him and he's lowkey bothered by it, so having an s/o shorter than himself is a blessing cause you know how boys like to be taller than their girl and stuff... He will never say that to you though, cause he knows that you don't like talking about your height.

Loves the fact that you're tiny. Wants to hold you up all the time, and make you feel protected while lowkey showing off his ability.

Since you're into martial arts, I bet you'll be in love when you see him actually competing with some guy, only using his strength and what kind of martial arts he knows. How you seen how the man kicks people's ass with that one movement of his? I'm talking about him, beating the shit out of people, only by kicking them, It's true that he uses his ability too, but who cares as long as it's as hot as heck?

Chuuya also loves drinking, and maybe even more than you do. So when he finds out that you're fond of alcohol just like him, his really excited since apart from special occasions, he usually drinks by himself until he passes out; and having someone who would accompany him while drinking is almost like a dream come true. He likes to take you to whine tasting, and buys the best and most expensive wines in the world, only to see your happy reaction when you take the first sip of the drink and marvel its magnificent taste.

Chuuya's mbti type is Estp, so the only difference between you two is that you're introverted and his extroverted. Your independence is really attractive to him and finds it really hot that you're able to take care of yourself despite people around him (Akutagawa). I'm not saying that Akutagawa can't take care of himself, He just doesn't really care about his health state because he believes that he does not have much time left 🚶🏻‍♀️💔.Anyway, he finds youre independence really fetching, though it would be good if you sometimes just sit back and let him take care of his precious girl instead :)

If I've learned one thing from the Maoi cards, it's that he's also interested in rock and roll. He adores how you artisticly play that instrument if you were born to do it, and even though he knows a bit about them, he will ask you to teach him professionally so you can both play together.

People in the mafia are not surprised of you dating at all. I mean, you're both short-tempered, mature, strong, caring, etc. With having this much in common, they were definitely expecting something cheesy going on between you two.

Since you're both so thoughtful and have a soft spot with each other, you bare have an arguement. Of course there are somethings that you might have disagreements on, but theyre never that big that would seriously upset you or affect your feelings for each other.

He despises betrayal as much as you do, and since he's been betrayed by even his closest friends, hes afraid of trusting people too much or getting attached to them. It takes you a while for you to trust and even count on each other and some point; but it was definitely worth waiting, since now you're both sure that the other party is not one for cheating and deserves their time and affection.

Tysm for taking part in my event, and I hope you like the headcanons! &>

#AshTheMadWriter's 300 follower event #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd imagines #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs headcanons #bsd headcanons #chuuya x reader #bsd match up #Chuuya x you #Chuuya x y/n #Nakahara Chuuya x reader #Chuuya Nakahara x reader #Chuuya imagines #Chuuya headcanons #Chuuya hcs #Chuuya fluff #AshTheMadWriter

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toutallyahoe · 4 years

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Everybody Talks ~ Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyuu) pt 2

requested by: --

a/n: holy shit— i had to break this one shot into three parts?!?

ugh, this is why i prefer wattpad and quotev bruuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhh

you gremlins better enjoy this

part one | part two | part three

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"Hey sugar show me all your love?

All you're giving me is friction,"

It had been already a week and a half and his soulmate finally stopped listening to the song like it was god or something. Well, his soulmate never fully stopped as his soulmate seemed to play on it occasionally from time to time but it wasn't like earlier in the week where Hajime could barely sleep or focus on anything since the song was blasting on his ears in full volume.

Hajime was thankful that his soulmate finally regained their sanity back to not blast the song on a loop twenty-four seven like a maniac.

Still though, instead of the song "Everybody Talks" by Neon Trees on loop, it was replaced by an instrumental of the said song. Not really much of a change but hey, it was more bearable with out the singer singing the lyrics so loud Hajime was sure he'll go deaf.

And yes, Hajime knows the name of the song and the band. How can he not be though when he had been hearing this one particular song again and again for a week and a half. It seemed like his soulmate changed their taste again. More or less. It was a common occurrence as the dark haired male seemed to noticed that his soulmate enjoyed listening to music a lot.

Hajime liked to think his soulmate was perhaps an aspiring musician as the dark haired male sometimes hear some songs he never heard of, even if he searched it in online as best as he could.

"Hey sugar what you gotta say?

It started with a whisper!"

Snapping out of his thoughts. Hajime sighed again when he heard the familiar song... again. It seemed like his soulmate was listening to the song again. Actually, his soulmate had been listening for it for awhile now but had had the volume down that the dark haired male could easily tune it out. But it seemed like his soulmate was trying to have their eardrums bursting again.

"And that was when I kissed her!

And then she made my lips hurt!"

Shaking his head, Hajime reminded himself to focus. Currently, he had been asked by a teacher of his to deliver a box. Having nothing to do as Mondays he doesn't have any volleyball practice, Hajime agreed to take the box towards the light music club.

"I could hear the chit chat!

Take me to your love shack!"

The dark haired male had a bit trouble locating the club room of the light music club though. Hajime wasn't one to be interested in other extra curricular activities and other clubs as he was busy with his own club to manage. Being the vice captain of the volleyball club full of raging testosterone and hormonal boys, and having to deal with their bullshit was enough already. Hell, he even had to deal with Oikawa Tōru and that guy was the president! You could tell the stress the dark haired male had to deal with every single day.

"Mamas always gotta back track!

When everybody talks back!"

Hajime shakes his head again as he turned his attention the the box on his hands. The box wasn't that huge nor heavy. Maybe a bit heavy and the dark haired male assumed it was some music instrument or some sheets of music notes. Either way, he has to be careful since who know what was inside and how he'll be in trouble if he messed whatever is inside the box.

"Everybody talks, everybody talks,

Everybody talks, everybody talks,

Everybody talks, everybody talks back!"

Shifting his gaze from the box to the doors he was passing by. Hajime made sure to read the signs of the door to find the light music club he had to deliver the box too.

"It started with a whisper!

And that was when I kissed her!

Everybody talks, everybody talks back!"

It took awhile for the dark haired male the light music club room. Turns out the club room of the light music club was on the third floor, the third to the last room of the end of the building. Looking at the door of the room, it was the same as the rest of the doors of the rooms in the school. The only thing new about it was the sign on top of the door said "LIGHT MUSIC CLUB" in a very neat, bolded writing. Hajime almost passed the room for a second as everything was the same if he wasn't looking for it.

Sighing, the dark haired male noticed his soulmate was rather quite. They had been for awhile and Hajime didn't know whether to be overjoyed or not. He had noticed that his soulmate was also going silent for awhile and would normally just listen to music late at night or around the end of classes. Maybe sometimes listening in classes but mostly skipped unlike what they used to.

This really made Hajime curious on why the change of schedule his soulmate is currently doing as his soulmate was relentless and would always jam out to their song. But right now, Hajime should focusing on the task at hand. Going back to reality and cursing his soulmate— even when they are not annoying him with their music blasting in full volume inside his mind, Hajime is still getting distracted by them. Cute but also, how annoying.

Looking at the door again then at the box in his hand. Hajime breathed in and out. He did not know why but oddly enough, he felt a bit nervous. Maybe he was just stressed out? Perhaps. The dark haired male really doesn't have a single clue.

The dark haired male decided to just get this over with. Swallowing the anxiety that just appeared out of nowhere, Hajime was about to knock on the door when the familiar song came inside his mind again, but this time... more louder...?

"Hey baby won't you look my way?

I can be your new addiction."

"What the hell...?" Hajime muttered, confused and bewildered. The dark haired male swore he was hallucinating the song his soulmate was playing all the time. He had to be right or perhaps he was having auditory problems? Maybe he finally lost it with his soulmate's non-stop jamming to the song that it made him finally gone insane.

"Hey baby what you gotta say?

All you're giving me is fiction."

It took a second or two for Hajime to realized he wasn't going insane for listening on a song for almost a week and a half non-stop. No, the dark haired male realized the song wasn't only playing inside his mind, but also somewhere in front of him. And Hajime looked at the door in front of him, he knows the sound was coming inside the light music club room.

"I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time,

I found out that everybody talks,

Everybody talks, everybody talks—"

The dark haired male didn't know what had came over him or what had possessed him to do such a thing, but he, Iwaizumi Hajime grabbed the handle of the door and hastily opened it.

"It started with a whisper!

And that was when I kissed her!

And then she made my lips hurt!"

The room had a cozy feel to it. It was like any room of the building in size but it had its own personality than the other rooms aswell. The window were covered with thick, black colored curtains that were shut tight at the moment. The walls were painted darker shade than the other room, a color of maroon.

Inside the room were chairs and some table on the side and most important of all, many different instrument raging from percussion to stringed and woodwinds instruments. There are mic stands and even a small podium inside the room. But Hajime wasn't focused on the room though. No, he was more focused on the person inside the room.

Inside the club room of the light music club was a lone male. This was [Last name] [Name]. Hajime only knew him because the male was the president of the light music club and had classes with his chocolate brown haired best friend.

[Name] had [Hair color] hair that was rather messy and wild looking and had its tips bleached white. [Skin color] skin that maybe held some imperfections that Hajime couldn't tell from the distance the two were in but the dark haired male noticed the [Hair color] haired male was wearing the Aoba Johsai school uniform.

Well, of course he was. [Name] was a student of the school after all, but the [Hair color] haired student seemed to had his white jacket discarded and put on a chair that was inside the room along with his bag. [Name] was standing in the small podium in the center of the room, two large speakers beside him that was blasting the rifts of the bass guitar that he was playing in his hands.

[Name] was wearing white headphones over his ears and had his eyes closed as he sang onto the microphone in front of his. His eyes closed, clueless to his own surroundings and was only lost to the music he was listening and singing too.

"I could hear the chit chat!

Take me to your love shack!"

Hajime felt his heart beating so fast inside his ribcage. He swore his heart would escape as he stood on the doorway of the room, frozen and gaping like a fish out of the water as his eyes widened in shock.

"Mamas always gotta back track!

When everybody talks back!"

Was this real? This had to be a joke, right?

Holy shit. His soulmate— his fucking soulmate wasn't farther away than he had thought. His soulmate was [Last name] [Name], the president of the light music club and they were only a few steps away from each other. Not the miles and miles apart Hajime had admitted to himself a long time ago.

"Hey honey you could be my drug?

You could be my new prescription."

Was this the reason he had been hearing the song "Everybody Talks" for a week and a half now? Because his soulmate was truly an aspiring musician?

"Too much could be an overdose!

All this trash talk make me itchin'!"

It seemed like Hajime wasn't wrong about his thoughts on his soulmate enjoying music because they had a passion for it. His soulmate, [Name], was literally the president of a club dedicated to music making!

"Oh my, my,

Everybody talks, everybody talks,

Everybody talks, too much..."

As Hajime continuously stood there like a statue, the [Hair color] haired male finally noticed him when he had opened his eyes to see the dark haired male.

"It started with a whisper..." [Name] softly sang as he then stopped strumming the bass guitar on his hands and took his headphones off his ears. Instead, he let the white headphones hang loosely on his neck as he jumped of the mini podium and went towards the frozen male.

"Uh, hey?" [Name] awkwardly greeted Hajime as he stood in front of the dark haired male. "Do you need something?" The [Hair color] haired male asked as he looked at the volleyball player up and down.

[Name] knew who this was. This was the infamous ace of the males volleyball club of Aoba Johsai. The pride and joy of the school, the volleyball club was. Iwaizumi Hajime may not be popular like Oikawa Tōru (who he share homeroom with) like the rest of the other members of the club, but the dark haired ace still garnered recognition from others. He was, after all, the ace of the sport.

Now this brings the question on why the ace of the volleyball club was in his club's doorstep. Normally, no one comes into the light music club except members (who already went home as everyone Mondays are no club time for them) or close friends of the said members to watch them goof off and perform. And [Name] was pretty sure that Hajime wasn't a close friend of his members as he prided himself to actually known his fellow members in the light music club. After all, what kind a president would he be if wasn't close with his members and his members friends?

So, if it isn't any if those two, this leads to only one conclusion.

Snapping his fingers in a "hurrah" moment. The [Hair color] haired male did not paid mind on Hajime flinching a bit on the snap of his fingers as he sent the dark haired ace an apologetic grin.

"If you're here because of how loud I'm playing again, I promise I'll keep it down!" [Name] had awkwardly said as he grinned. This wasn't the first time people actually visited the club to complain how loud they were playing, or more specifically, how he was playing. [Name] was a passionate guy and it his passion also shows in his playing. And so, he sometimes gets too into his music.

"So, uhhh, don't worry!" The [Hair color] haired male chuckled but his relief was immediately washed away and was replaced with confusion when he saw the dark haired male shakes his head and avoided eye contact with him. Did he do something wrong?

"No, that's not it," Hajime had said as he awkwardly coughed and avoided looking at [Name] in his [Eye color] eyes. Why was he feeling embarrassed again? He wasn't the one getting caught singing their heart out for goodness sake! Yet, Hajime felt a bit shy which was uncharacteristic of him.

This was his soulmate though. Iwaizumi Hajime may be jumping on the gun here and was probably wrong but the inner hopeless romantic he denied that he had was desperately screaming at him that this was no coincidence.

The light music club president was singing the fucking song his soulmate was listening to and Hajime could still hear the song playing even just a tiny bit and the dark haired male could practically hear [Name]'s music on the headphones hanging lazily on his neck. And it was the same fucking song.

Clearing his throat. Hajime reminded himself to focus. He could tell [Name] about them both being soulmates after he delivered the box that he was asked to give.

"Tōrasu-sensei asked me to deliver this," Hajime had said as he finally looked at the other male and saw the [Hair color] haired male just noticed the box he was carrying. Hajime had to bite back the nerves coming back when he made brief eye contact with [Name].

Fuck, he had been waiting for this moment his whole life, so why did he feel so nervous?!?

Hajime didn't expect his soulmate to be so closer to him and be a male. Yes, the dark haired male knew the possibility of having the same sex soulmate as it wasn't a new thing really. In fact, having same sex partners are more common than what other people would think. Still, Hajime never expected this and he was having mix feelings about it.

"Oh," Hajime was dragged out of his thoughts again by [Name] with the male sporting a dumbfounded look for a second as his lips was in a "o" form. The [Hair color] haired male seemed to realized what he was here for and had flashed him a large smile. The dark haired male just noticed that [Name] actually had a few piercing in his ears and that he had really nice [Eye color] eyes that shined with energy.

"Thanks for delivering!" [Name] thanked as he carefully took the box from the dark haired male when Hajime was too busy looking at him. The [Hair color] haired male was a bit amused when he noticed Hajime blinked a couple of times when he took the box away from him. Looks like the volleyball player was lost in his thoughts.

"I had been waiting for this baby for awhile now," [Name] said as he patted the top of the box and sent Hajime a grateful smile. "So, thanks, really."

"No problem," Hajime shrugged as he nodded his head at the [Hair color] haired male. It seemed like the dark haired male was back and acting normal again. Not that [Name] would know really as he wasn't closed with the volleyball player.

"Not to be a bother but, what's inside the box?" Hajime had asked as he rubbed his hands, eying the box he just delivered. Hajime had his guesses earlier ago but he couldn't tell which of his guesses were correct really. The dark haired male noticed the male in front of him seemed to light up and beamed at him.

"Oh! It's supposed to be a surprise," [Name] had said. This caused Hajime to be more curious on what's inside the box, and [Name] seemed to actually be eager to tell as he sent Hajime a grin. "It's some stuff we'll be using in the school's festival next week!"

"Ah, is it some new instrument or something?" The volleyball player asked as he saw the light music club president chuckle while shaking his head. Hajime had to force himself to calm himself down when he saw the [Hair color] haired male sent him a wink with a cheeky grin on his lips.

"Now, I can't tell you about that!" [Name] had said with a laugh as he went to the nearest table and placed the box down. He then turned and gave Hajime another grateful smile. "It would ruin the surprise if I do."

"I see," Hajime muttered as he can't stop the small smile creeping onto his lips. "Then I'm sure it'll be a great surprise then!" Hajime said. The dark haired male didn't noticed how the [Hair color] haired male seemed to be a bit surprised with his words but he immediately grinned happily by Hajime's words.

"Oh, you bet!" [Name] said as he went back to stand in front of Hajime, holding his hand on to shake the dark haired male's hand. "Name's [Name] by the way! [Last name] [Name]!" He introduced.

"Iwaizumi Hajime," Hajime introduced himself aswell as he took the [Skin color] hand that [Name] outstretched for him to shake. A small smile on his lips as he shook hands with the light music club president.

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serenityseventeen · 3 years

Text

Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before

The Sixth Letter

----------------

To: Lee Jihoon

From: Y/N

I'm sorry.

Jihoon, I will not blame you for anything. If I were in your shoes, I would have been even more irritated than you were. I'm still irritated, actually.

I know for certain that you probably hate me so I will begin this letter for you by reminding us of our good times when no one was there to butt in.

When we first met in tech audio, I was really surprised that you were a musical genius. You knew how to work the garage band app right away and since we sat next to each other, I could already tell that you were familiar with it.

You were also able to play the guitar and the piano. I've always liked music so seeing someone play those two instruments just fascinated me. Not only that, but you also played the clarinet well.

You've probably lived around music all your life, right? I listen to music almost everywhere I go, every day, it's one of my human needs, but I have to admit, even after learning a bit of piano from you, I still have almost no idea about music. Genres of music are still hard to identify for me and I can still barely tell the difference in chords. I'm still thankful that you took the time out of your worktime to help me understand more about music.

Honestly, when I first saw you, Jihoon, I was intimidated. You didn't like exactly friendly and I just stupidly thought that you were one of those ‘perfectionist’ students who only cared for their grades and being the best. Also, just the way you looked when you didn't smile gave me that impression. However, when you smiled, you looked completely different. You looked cute. We laughed a lot together too.

I bet you that on our first assignment, I must've looked like a complete tech idiot. The assignment was just to come up with your original piece of music by messing around on the app. Was my confusion that easy to see through?

I don't know, but I think the moment that you helped me was when I started to realize you as the person you are now. You taught me how to use the app in such a gentle tone, you know that? I still feel like I can listen to your voice forever and I won't get bored of it.

I was happy with our forming friendship. I felt like I could truly be your friend. Plus, we had one other class together so I was able to talk with you a lot about music. Everything you say fascinates me and makes me believe that you are a musical genius. I still believe that you are even if I can't hear your songs anymore.

Speaking of your music, I think you should become a ‘pro’ music producer, lyricist, composer, songwriter, of them all. Your talent in music is truly undeniable!

That first piece you showed me called “17”, I have to say that that song may be my favorite out of all the songs you've sent me. I still have all the music files stored in my phone and I'll never delete them. It's not because I still like you that I'm keeping them but it's because I like the song. I might put them into an mp3 player and stick them on the back of this letter. Out of the 13 songs you've shown me, there was not one that I disliked.

Your voice is also heavenly. I love it. I don't understand why you aren't getting yourself a whole career already! You don't know this but when I was playing your song “Rock”, my father was totally digging it! Even my next-door neighbor wanted to know who was the artist behind “20”!

There was also that time when you were helping me learn how to read music using the piano and our hands kept brushing against each other. Our shoulders were also glued together because the seat was so small. If your heart was racing just as much as how pink your ears turned, then please, believe me, my heart was beating twice as fast.

You didn't just teach me music and show me your creations, you also shared music that you enjoyed. A lot of the songs are still in my playlist. You have great taste in music too, Jihoon. I enjoyed every moment we spent just sitting at the window of the classroom, sharing headphones and listening to the songs you liked.

When they were love songs, I just couldn't help thinking that you chose the song for a reason. I'm quite an overthinker. I always thought that maybe one of the songs you showed me held your heart and maybe they did, but now I'll never know.

I'm your fan, Jihoon, even though you probably wouldn't want me to be anymore. I still admire you and I respect you a lot, that's why I'm deciding to write you this letter. I'm not going to get too close to you, I won't even try to bring us back to what we were because now, it's too awkward between us. I know that deep inside, you must feel so a deep hatred toward me, even if it wasn't entirely my fault.

I've realized what kind of person you are, Jihoon. You're kind, caring, talented in almost everything, shy, and stubborn. You love music. You hate it when someone who isn't close to you gets all up in your business as if they know everything. You also hate narcissists. You're selfless and humble.

I don't know who you told but I'm sorry. Your trust must have been completely broken. I mean, I can just imagine how painful it would be, being an introvert and telling someone your crush while trusting them to keep the secret only to have them spill it to the person's friends.

I hate my friends because they ruined our relationship but since they are my friends, I just can't abandon them as if we didn't spend years being best buddies. I've been distancing myself from them for a while now but I think it won't be long until we continue hanging out again. I want to hang out with you too but you must feel so... angry.

I heard that you're not friends with the guy who leaked the secret that you liked me. I truly hope that you can find a friend that is a true friend. I don't want you to live in fear and keep everything to yourself. I'll always be here for you though, so please, even if I don't speak with you, you can speak to me.

Gosh, what am I saying? It can't be fixed.

You must've overheard it when my friends dragged me away from your cafeteria table and whispered to me, “Did you know? He likes you!”

I was flustered and when I turned back to you, I still remember seeing your hands clench. That's when I sort of knew that we wouldn't be friends anymore.

Even after having your trust broken, you continued to hang out around me, which made me believe that if I confessed my feelings to you when the time was right, we could fall in love. So, I spent a lot of time learning about you.

That's when my friends came in again. They started teasing us in front of the whole class, saying all that stupid cheesy shit. I was ready angry and kept telling them to stop but they wouldn't because they just thought I was like them.

‘When you're in high school, you don't want the person in the relationship, you just want a relationship.’

That was not the case for me but that's what they thought. I wanted you, Jihoon. I was ready to teach you about me and get to know you better so that when I was ready to love, we would be able to stay together.

My friends are stupid.

They continued to pressure us to be together.

Knowing you, you must've gotten extremely annoyed and fed up with it, enough for you to end your friendship with me. And that's exactly what happened, right?

Each day, for a month, they came to our desks singing stupid love songs meant for children. They were so childish and I was growing so sick of it. I knew that you didn't like that shit. I knew that you were just enduring it but I couldn't stop it and I'm sorry.

We went through all that humiliation together. I think we could have had a better love story if your friend didn't leak your secret and my friends didn't act like children. I saw sparks in your eyes, that's why I had hope that we could fall in love together, but we couldn't even get ready to love.

I just remember that day when you ignored me. I was telling you that your piece sounded good and asked if I could get a listen, but you didn't reply to me at all. You still don't talk to me. It makes my heart ache.

When our friendship got ruined, I almost ruined my other friendships too. You don't know this but they kept pestering me, asking if you and I were finally dating and if we had a couple fight. They kept reassuring me as if they knew what we were going through and saying that it was just a small love fight and that we would recover soon. They didn't even know the problem was them so I yelled at them.

In the middle of the cafeteria, I slammed my hands on the table and shouted at them. I'm sure you heard me, you were in the same room. I'm pretty sure that you didn't know about this either but when I left the cafeteria in anger, I cried in the stall of a bathroom.

Now, I'm fine.

I wonder what you thought of me then. I mean, we still had to see each other but we didn't talk to each other like we were strangers. I was angry at you for not understanding me so I didn't want to speak or even glance in your direction, even if it did hurt to ignore you.

I think I know what you feel but all I'm thinking about your emotions are just assumptions in the end. You're a stranger to me now. A stranger that I loved.

You brought me the colors of music.

If only things didn't have to turn out so negatively. If only one friend kept his promise of keeping a secret... If only a group of friends didn't tease so annoyingly... Maybe then, things would be different.

Oh yeah, I'm sorry about this too. I overheard you playing a song the other day. Don't worry, I didn't record it but I cried to it. I just have a feeling that the song was about me. All the lyrics, the depressing but gorgeous sound of the piano, your emotional voice, it all brought tears to my eyes. Were you in pain?

I had never heard the song before. When I cried to it, I had my hands covering my mouth to keep noise from slipping. I don't know if you heard me because you just continued singing.

“Maybe I could have been a man

when everyone was telling me to.

But both choices were selfish,

keep you close or let me go,

so I chose

let's just not fall in love.”

I think your choice was for the better.

Sincerely,

Y/N

------------------

6/21/21 - 11:01 am

a/n: sigh... I feel like this letter was so relatable on so many levels. My former friends were like that, always wanting a relationship but not the person in the relationship. They're too desperate. + ARTHUR KYEOM COMEBACK!??!? SVT CHINESE DRAMA OST!?!?

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kissinginkitchens · 3 years

Text

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Four: You Can Hear it in the Silence

a/n: hello again!! So glad to have you back :) I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. It's been wonderful to read some of your comments and thoughts! I do have to give a special shoutout to @harrysblackcoat and @determined-overthinker for their continued support and feedback, it really means the world to me, so a huge thank you to you both!! I am tremendously grateful for all of you lovely readers and I hope you will enjoy chapter four as much as I enjoyed writing it! As always, my inbox is open, so feel free to drop by and chat with me after reading! Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sexual content

Word Count: 6.7k

read parts one, two, and three

“You kissed him?” Maleah gasps over FaceTime, her mouth so wide, Alani fears her jaw will detach from its socket.

She had finally decided to tell her best friend everything, excluding the Rolling Stone details, nearly two days after the last time she had seen Harry. The entire next day had been spent replaying every moment and listening to the recorded interview on her voice notes until the phone battery was completely drained. Alani’s stomach fluttered at the sound of Harry’s voice and it only made her miss him more. The part that she desperately needed her friend’s input on was what had happened immediately before she left.

“No,” Alani clarifies, quickly. “Well, almost. Maybe—I think,”

“I’ve only been gone a couple of weeks,” Maleah starts, brows furrowed as if her brain is malfunctioning. “And you’re already swooping in on my man?”

Alani feels her cheeks warm but she pushes past it and rolls her eyes. “There is no swooping going on,”

“I don’t know. You two were caught in the rain together, sounds like swooping to me,”

“But that’s the thing,” Alani huffs. “I don’t know what it is. And I don’t know if I’m just making a big deal out of nothing,”

Maleah nods understandingly and pushes any jealousy out of her mind, the love for her best friend winning out.

“Well, tell me exactly what happened before the kiss,”

“There was no kiss,” Alani emphasizes, thinking back to the last few minutes spent in Harry’s car.

The sun had already set when the two of them arrived at her house, leaving little light in the already darkly tinted Range Rover. But even in the darkness, Alani could see the intensity in Harry’s eyes. Their bodies had been close enough in the confined space that she could feel the warmth radiating from him, and his vanilla scent enveloped her in an intoxicating haze. For a moment, her eyes had darted to his plush lips and she imagined what it would feel like to close the space between them. She could have sworn that he had done the same, finding his eyes wandering just below the tip of her nose when she looked up. Before anything could happen, however, she found herself reaching for the door handle and stepping into the crisp night sky.

“But did you want him to kiss you?” Maleah questions.

Alani waits a beat, but she doesn’t have to think about the answer. “Yes,”

“Well there you go!” her friend responds enthusiastically. “Problem solved,”

“Problem not solved,” Alani corrects. “What about the fact that he’s, like, famous? I mean what happens when he has to go back to L.A. or London or whatever?”

“Woah, woah, woah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,”

Alani anxiously nibbles on the skin of her lower lip, not stopping even when she tastes blood. “But it’s true—”

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to think about it right now,” Maleah assures her. “What if you just let things happen and… enjoy it for what it is?”

Alani doesn’t miss the double meaning in the last part. “Mi, you and I both know that I’ve never been one to just enjoy it for what it is,”

“I know this, and I love you,” Maleah starts slowly. “But as your best friend—and I say this with nothing but love—you need to get laid, for real,”

Alani groans, slumping further into her mattress. “But what if that’s all he wants? I just don’t think I’m ready for that,”

“And that’s perfectly fine,” her friend coos. “But from what you’ve told me so far, it doesn’t sound like that’s all he’s after,”

Alani considers this for a moment before Maleah continues.

“Look, let’s start with something simple: do you like him? I mean, do you like spending time with him and just generally being around him?”

“Yes,”

“Then start there,” Maleah suggests. “You can enjoy someone’s company without making it romantic, it’s just friendship. Don’t put pressure on something that you’re not ready for, or something that might not even be there,”

Alani feels a small weight lifted off her shoulders and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, no you’re right I shouldn’t psych myself out over something that didn’t even happen. I mean, for all I know he has a girlfriend,”

She waits a beat before a new concern enters her mind. “Wait, does he have a girlfriend?”

“I don’t know,”

“Well even if he does, it doesn’t matter,” Alani reaffirms. “Because we’re just friends,”

“When are you gonna see him again?” her friend asks.

Alani stomach drops. In all her concentration of the past, she hadn’t even considered what will happen when she has to face him again. “I don’t know,”

“Who initiated the last hang out?”

“He did,” Alani admits, thinking back to the hours he had spent reading in the café until her shift was over.

Maleah hums. “Well then it looks like the ball’s in your court,”

Alani is quiet for a moment, which her friend takes as her cue to offer some more reassurance.

“I’m sorry I don’t have more answers for you, Nani, but it’s gonna be okay. Promise, ”

Alani sighs, kneeling to look out the window next to her bed.

“No, Mi, it’s okay. I really appreciate you just being there, it means a lot,”

“Of course, babes. Keep me updated.”

“Will do.”

The call ends and Alani continues watching the palm trees sway in the wind. Will do—the very same last words that she had spoken to Harry that night. Her mind wanders back to the moment right before she had opened the door to escape and plays out an alternative scenario. What would have happened if she had leaned just an inch closer?

********

Harry pinches his lower lip between his index finger and thumb. Will do, he repeats in his mind— two words that he never knew could carry so much weight.

“I said ‘I think Manchester United is shit,’” Nick Grimshaw says loudly, shrugging at Mitch and Jeff Bhasker when his plan doesn’t work. “I dunno, that should’ve gotten him,”

“Oh hey, Alani,” Mitch speaks into his phone loud enough for Harry to hear. This piques the singer’s attention immediately, his heart racing. “Yeah he’s right here,”

“What the fuck?” Harry questions, zeroing in on Mitch.

“Who’s Alani?” Nick teases with eyebrows raised into his hairline.

Harry springs from his seat and corners Mitch, who holds his phone above his head. “Gimme the phone!”

“Hello,” Nick interrupts, watching the struggle continue. “Feeling neglected here, who’s Alani?”

The guitarist ducks and sprints to the opposite wall, Harry chasing close behind. They hop from couch to couch and swerve around fragile equipment while Mitch snickers and guards his phone close. Harry had no idea why Alani was calling and why she hadn’t reached out to him directly, but he’s dying to hear her voice again and is growing increasingly frustrated with his friend’s antics.

“Mitchell, stop fuckin’ around!”

“I’m sorry,” he relents, holding out the phone with an amused laugh. “It wasn’t her, wrong number,”

Harry huffs and returns to his seat disappointedly, a guitar resting in his lap. Nick, who had only been able to drop in for the weekend due to his busy schedule at the BBC, narrows his eyes at both boys before speaking up again.

“Once again, no one has answered my question.”

“She’s just a girl he’s been hanging out with,” Jeff explains nonchalantly. “He wants to have her babies.”

“Don’t,” Harry warns.

Despite already having his fun, Mitch can’t resist adding on. “It’s none of our business… but I’ve heard a summer wedding is in the works.”

“I’m gonna go drink now,” Harry announces, standing. “And none of you fuckers are invited.”

He wanders down the hallway and into the kitchen, immediately reaching for the tequila. Is it too early for margaritas? he wonders before deciding that he wants a second opinion. No new texts are displayed on his phone screen, much to his disappointment, but he decides to open the messages app anyway. He carefully types in Alani’s name and writes, then re-writes, the text several times before pressing send. As soon as the tag reads “delivered”, his body is filled with apprehension, but there’s no turning back.

Harry: Is 10 a.m. too early for margaritas?

There’s a minute of silence, then two, and Harry turns his phone face down onto the counter to reach for the ingredients. It dings just as he opens the bottle of tequila and he immediately lunges for it.

Alani: Never. Morning margs were invented for a reason.

Relief. He quickly types out a risky response.

Harry: Any chance I can convince you to join me?

He stares at the screen, willing the “delivered” to turn into a “read,” but it doesn’t budge. His lips ghost over the rim of the tequila bottle before he bites the bullet and takes a sip.

Alani: Working :( sorry. Another time maybe.

Defeat. He knows that “another time maybe” is a polite “never.” Another swig of tequila down the hatch.

Harry: Yeah, no worries.

Alani sets her phone down on her nightstand and brings the duvet up to her chin. She hopes with every muscle in her body that Harry doesn’t show up to the restaurant, though if he’s planning on drinking, perhaps she’s safe. Maybe I should do the same. She wonders, thinking about the rosé her mom keeps in the cupboard for special occasions. Surely heartache must be a good enough reason to crack it open. Regardless, Alani doesn’t think she has the stomach to keep it down at the present.

********

Harry pushes the remaining peas around on his plate with the prongs of his fork. His chin rests in the heel of his hand.

“And then I said ‘what’s the difference?’” his manager remarks, sending the rest of the group into a fit of wild laughter.

“You’re so fucking stupid.” Mitch comments through a chuckle.

The laughter slowly dies down and their eyes all wander to Harry who hasn’t budged for the past twenty-five minutes. They exchange worried glances, and Jeff begins to wonder if his initial advice for Harry to go out with Alani was a mistake.

“Hey, H,” he begins gently. “You feelin’ alright?”

Harry looks up from his plate and musters his best fake smile. “Yeah, jus’ tired,”

It was partially true; the crew had spent their entire afternoon at Honoli’i Beach practicing their surfing, though it was mostly unsuccessful for Harry—his life seemed to be a series of wipe-outs these days.

“I’m gonna go watch a Rom-Com in my room,” he announces, standing with his plate. “Probably doze off.”

The group exchanges “good nights” before Harry saunters down the hall to his room. Settling into the bed, he flicks through the movie selection and clicks on one that he knows by heart. He contemplates texting Alani again, scrolling through their brief conversation from three days ago. Against his better judgment, he types out another message and presses send.

Harry: Opinion on The Notebook?

He waits, attention briefly occupied by Rachel McAdams until the phone dings.

Alani: A classic, though not as good as Dirty Dancing if I’m being honest.

The corners of his mouth curl and he immediately types out another response.

Harry: You have a problem with The Goss?

Alani snorts, planting her spoon into the pint of strawberry ice cream to reply.

Alani: First, I have many gripes about you referring to Ryan Gosling as “The Goss”. Second, I was actually rooting for Lon Hammond, but maybe that’s just because I’m partial to James Marsden. And third, the scene where Baby and Johnny are dancing alone in his room. That’s all I have to say.

Harry hums, hanging on every word.

Harry: Confession: I’ve never actually seen Dirty Dancing…

Alani: We need to change that immediately.

His heart pounds. So she didn’t plan on ghosting him forever.

Harry: So Lon Hammond, that’s your type?

Alani doesn’t know why she finds it unsettling that Harry steers the conversation away from any possible talk of them hanging out again. She reminds herself that she had been the one to decline his invitation for margaritas and shovels another scoop of ice cream into her mouth.

Alani: Kind, supportive, successful, handsome? Yeah, I’d say so. Not to mention he forgave Allie for cheating.

Harry: But Noah built her a house. Her dream house, I might add.

Alani: I’m not discrediting Noah, I love a grand romantic gesture as much as the next person. Just think Lon deserved better.

Harry grins, entirely ignoring the movie at this point. Grand romantic gestures, he notes, good to know.

Harry: And what about the fact that Noah wrote it all down and reads their literal love story to her every time she forgets?

Alani: Maybe he deserves some rights for that.

Alani taps the spoon against her lower lip and thinks about Cecily’s words. Just let things happen. She desperately wants to, but she doesn’t know how. The thought of getting too close only to let it all slip through her fingers is too overwhelming, so she starts with something simple: do you like spending time with him? Alani doesn’t think she could enjoy anything more. Her mind wanders back to the passenger seat of Harry’s car and the image of his wrist draped over the steering wheel, lower lip captured between his fingers. She had noted this tick early on and found it endlessly endearing. Save for the awkward fifteen minutes of their very first interview, their conversations all seemed to come so easily. Alani enjoys his quick wit and the way he speaks slowly, as if carefully weighing each word. She likes that even though the entire reason for their relationship is for her to learn all that she possibly can about him, he makes an equal effort to get to know her. Alani compares Harry’s sincere reaction to hearing that she was a journalist to David’s snarky remark. Harry had believed in her from the get-go—he had trusted her. He makes her feel seen and known. Isn’t that what it means to be loved? To be known? His words echo in her mind.

Harry: How’s the article going?

Alani’s stomach drops. Fuck. In all her contemplation over the almost kiss, she had forgotten the truth behind her motives. She had lied. Harry had trusted her, and she had lied. Not yet, she thinks, I haven’t lied yet. It would only be a lie if she submits the article to Rolling Stone. Her throat tightens. But I’m so close. She thinks about telling him, but quickly shuts the thought down when she considers that she still doesn’t have enough material and can’t afford to risk it now. This is her chance, there’s no doubt about it. Why else would the universe have planted a world famous rockstar right at her feet just when she had decided to give up for good? Alani had to at least try, she owed it to herself, and she reasons that if Harry really cares about her, he will understand. He would have to.

Alani: It’s going.

Harry: Can I get a sneak peek anytime soon?

Alani: Soon. Good night, Harry.

She sends the last text and sets her phone face down next to her. If she was going to do this, she had to do it right—even if it meant putting some space between the two of them. She owed that much to Harry.

He sinks further into the mattress, not understanding what he had said or done wrong, but he grants Alani her space, anyway.

Harry: Good night Alani.

********

“You’re listening to KWPX The Wave and that was the latest single from Ariana Grande,”

Alani stops fiddling with the radio and sits back with a defeated huff. She had been in a rut with her own music lately and after spending nearly fifteen minutes in her driveway shuffling through songs, she decided to turn on the radio and leave it up to fate.

“Next up is a song from everyone’s favorite ex-boyband: One Direction,”

Goddamnit, Alani groans. She had forgotten what a bitch fate could be.

“Now, I have to say, DeeDee,” the radio DJ starts. “I was personally heartbroken to hear the news, and I know my daughters were too,”

“Oh definitely,” DeeDee replies. “And I can’t help but wonder what this means for all of them. I mean, what do you think they’re up to these days?”

The first DJ gives a snide chuckle before he continues. “Probably doing what every twenty-something year old millionaire does: booze, cruise, and schmooze—the pretty girls, especially,”

Alani scoffs, rolling her eyes at his insinuation. She had begun to resent all of the gossip and speculation surrounding Harry’s whereabouts, especially after learning how much privacy meant to him. Moreover, she hated the twinge of jealousy that coursed through her veins at the thought of him with another girl. Alani supposes that it wasn’t entirely out of the question since they were far from romantically involved. While he had occupied her mind over the past few weeks, she knew that it was highly unlikely that he paid her the same attention. The thought still brings bile to her mouth.

“Well whatever they’re up to, one thing seems to be pretty clear,” DeeDee speaks up again. “All eyes will be on Harry Styles. I mean, he’s really the one to watch in all of this, isn’t he?”

“I think you’re right. I’m curious to see what he’s got in store. Maybe he’ll join Justin Timberlake and Nick Jonas with the ex-boyband buzz cut. But without further ado, here’s Drag Me Down.”

Alani knows that she’ll have to talk to Harry eventually; over the past week and a half, she had dodged every invitation to hang out, left cut and dry responses to all of his texts, and even ducked into the restaurant’s walk-in fridge when he unexpectedly showed up one afternoon. While the temptation to indulge his friendly advances was high, professional boundaries needed to be established. She had already begun working on the article with material from the two previous interviews—and it wasn’t half bad—but there was still so much of the story to fill in. If Alani was going to make it all worthwhile, she had to keep digging and do it fast; she couldn’t afford to let her personal feelings get in the way.

Her car sputters slightly as she heads south on Mamalahoa Highway and the radio fades in and out. Alani checks all of her gauges—she had made sure that the gas tank was full before leaving—and doesn’t see anything unusual. A few miles later, it jerks again before coming to a complete stop.

“Fuck,” she cries, pounding her palms against the steering wheel. “No, no, no, no, no!”

Alani waits a moment before turning the key again, but the engine refuses to start. She whips her phone out of the cupholder and scrolls through her contact list.

Pua—no license.

Maleah—out of town.

Dad—also out of town, catering a wedding in Oahu.

Mom—probably scrubbed in on a major, life-saving surgery.

She continues scrolling until her finger lands on a name that makes her heart race and sink at the same time.

Harry Styles—no.

There’s no way she can justify calling him, not after giving him the cold shoulder all week. If texting back and forth was unprofessional, then asking to be rescued off the side of the road surely crossed several boundaries. Alani scans her surroundings, shielding her eyes from the blinding afternoon sun. There isn’t a car or person in sight for miles—what other choice does she have? With shaking fingers, she dials the number and presses the phone to her ear. Harry answers after the third ring.

“Hello?” he responds loudly over the sound of cymbals crashing and laughter in the background.

“Hi,” Alani greets, raising her voice to be heard. “It’s Alani,”

She hears shuffling on the other end and then Harry’s voice, softer this time.

“Oh hey. How are you?”

“Good, how are you?”

Harry senses that something is off, but he’s glad to hear from Alani, nevertheless. His friends continue their antics in the studio, despite his silent gestures to knock it off, so he heads outside.

“Uh, yeah I’m fine. S’good to hear from you,” he offers shyly.

Alani’s chest tightens.

“Ditto,” she replies. “Hey listen, um, I’m kind of in a bit of trouble I—”

She hesitates. What the hell am I doing?

“I need your help,”

Harry’s heart sinks, immediately filled with worry.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she reassures him. “It’s my car,”

“Where are you?”

“The highway, southbound. Just past exit 243, I think,”

“I’m on my way,”

“Thank you,” Alani offers gently. “Really, thank you.”

A soft smile spreads across Harry’s lips. “Anytime.”

He arrives in a pink Cadillac fifteen minutes later, pulling over behind Alani. She doesn’t recognize the car and her confusion only deepens when a man with short-cropped hair emerges. As he approaches, a wave of recognition and relief washes over her.

“Harry?”

“Hey,” he greets, walking up to the driver’s side. “Need a lift?”

Alani’s mouth hangs open ever so slightly, scanning his new appearance. He looks like a completely different person than the one she remembers, and he has the faintest trace of stubble above his lip and jaw.

“You cut your hair,”

“I did,” he confirms.

“It’s so short,”

“Do you like it?”

“Of course I do,” Alani offers with a light laugh, feeling flustered under his gaze. “I mean it looks great, really suits you. Not that it matters what I think, it’s your hair,”

But it did matter. Everything she did, or didn’t do, said, and didn’t say— it all mattered to him for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. And it mattered more than she would ever know.

“So Stevie quit on you?”

Alani sighs. “I don’t know what’s wrong, honestly. All of the gauges look fine and I filled the tank this morning,”

Harry asks her to pop the hood and makes his way to the front of the Bronco. He looks around, not seeing any smoke or trace of other issues, though his knowledge of cars isn’t as comprehensive as he’d like in this situation.

Alani joins him, doing her own scan over the inside of the hood despite the fact that she has no idea what to look for. Her eyes wander to Harry’s strong hands as they prod the various bells and whistles, and she notices the way his tanned skin glistens under the sun. The cross pendant nestled behind his white t-shirt escapes when he leans over, swinging like a mesmerizing pendulum.

“I called a tow truck,” he says standing with his hands on his hips. “Should be here soon,”

“I’ll pay you back,” Alani offers quickly, her throat dry.

Harry waves her concern away with a hand and places the hood back. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re okay,”

“I really owe you one,” she says appreciatively.

He leans against the car with his arms crossed, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Have lunch with me and we’ll call it even.”

“Deal.”

The tow truck arrives ten minutes later and the driver gathers all of Alani’s information, letting her know which mechanic the car will be taken to and when she can pick it up. She sighs watching Stevie pull away down the road and imagines the dent it’ll make in her savings. Harry nudges her gently, motioning for her to get in his car.

“New ride?” she questions, running her fingers over the cotton candy paint.

“It belongs to the owner of the studio,” he explains. “All of the cars do except the Rover, she’s a rental. But Jeff took her out to get us lunch,”

“I’m so sorry for interrupting your plans,” Alani apologizes. And for kind of ghosting you, she thinks.

Harry shakes his head, shifting the gear between them. “Nah, you didn’t interrupt, we were just messing around. But I am curious to know what brought you all the way out here on a Tuesday afternoon. Skipping town?”

Alani giggles at the way he says “Tuesday,” but responds despite the curious look he flashes her. “Day off. I was gonna go to the beach,”

“Bummer,” Harry offers, thanking every deity that he can name. “We could still go,”

“Your friends won’t be mad?”

“They’ll be fine,”

Alani nods, her eyes studying the orange checkers on her trousers.

“What’re you hungry for?” Harry speaks up.

She thinks for a moment and is reminded of her original plans. “I could go for some sushi,”

“Know any good places?”

“Yeah, I’ll show you,” Alani’s curious gaze falls to the glove box before her, immediately wondering what’s inside. “Do you think the owner will be mad if I open this?”

Harry glances down at what she’s pointing to and shakes his head. “Knock yourself out,”

Alani pulls down the hatch and reaches inside; her fingers make contact with what feels like a pair of glasses. When her hand re-emerges with a pair that are pink and heart-shaped, she smiles.

“They have good taste,” she comments, putting them on.

Harry looks over and flashes a wide grin, the dimple that Alani has become so fond of emerging.

“Look good on you,”

“Try them on,” Alani suggests, handing them over.

He obliges and pushes his own pair up to make room for the other lenses.

“What d’you think?”

“I think you should keep them,” she says. “They suit you.”

And they really do; they compliment his face well and hint to the fun, easygoing parts of his personality that Alani has recently discovered.

She directs him to her favorite sushi spot near Bayfront Park, which is buzzing per usual. After they’ve been seated on the patio outside, Harry tucks the heart-shaped sunglasses into his t-shirt and contemplates addressing the elephant in the room: the ghosting. He doesn’t want to spook her, though, so he decides to pose the question lightly, but Alani speaks before he has the chance.

“So what’s with the haircut?”

Harry blinks, clearing his throat before he responds. “You hate it,”

“No!” She defends. “I like it, really, it looks great,”

“You wouldn’t bring it up if you didn’t absolutely hate it,” he teases in mock offense.

Alani rolls her eyes, a playful smile spreading across her face. “It just seems like a huge step and I’m curious, that’s all,”

He considers this, deciding to stop giving her a hard time, and responds. “Well if you must know, it’s for an audition,”

“For?”

“A movie,”

“A movie?” Alani’s eyes grow wide. “You’re gonna be in a movie?”

“Maybe,” he clarifies. “Dunno yet,”

“Wow,”

Harry leans forward, his elbows resting on the table. “What have you been up to? Any life changing decisions?”

Alani shrugs. “Same old. Work, my summer class,”

“And how’s your family?” he asks, which catches her off guard.

“Good. My sister’s… a moody teenager. My dad is catering a big wedding in Oahu right now. Mom’s saving lives like the badass woman she is,”

Harry laughs lightly at her comment and Alani tries to store the soundbite in the back of her mind for safe keeping.

“What about yours?” she questions.

“Fine, yeah. Mum’s good, so’s Gemma. Talk to them at least once a week just to check in,”

He pauses to take a sip of his water before continuing. “Ever since I was about...ten, maybe, ‘ve had this feeling like—protect mum at all costs. But she’s strong, has the greatest heart,”

Alani finds it sweet that Harry speaks so highly of Anne. Her own mom had always told her that a lot can be said about the character of a man by the way he treats his mother.

“I’m sure she misses having you around,” Alani comments, thinking of her own close relationship with her mom. “I don’t know if I could let my child leave home as early as you did,”

Harry brushes the tip of his nose with a knuckle and nods. “Was kinda hard at first, but she’s always been really supportive.”

“I bet she’s really proud.”

He offers a shy smile in response, scanning the scenery around them.

“I’m sure your family’s proud of you too.”

Alani and Harry continue their light conversation through the entire meal, sharing stories about their families and childhood. She finds herself wishing that she could have met a teenaged Harry, pre-fame and general world domination. He enjoys her anecdotes, soaking up every detail that he possibly can as if his life depends on it. The two of them go back and forth well after the meal is finished, only pausing when the waitress stops to check on them.

“Maybe we should go,” Alani suggests, checking her phone for the time. “I always hate when customers stay for hours,”

“Just like I did the first time at the café?” he asks, putting his signature on the bill.

Alani feels her cheeks warm and she quickly back pedals. “No! I mean—well, yeah, kinda—”

“And the truth comes out!”

“I was just annoyed because my sister kept bugging me to fill up your water. She was afraid you were gonna, like, get dehydrated and die or something.”

“Tell her I appreciate the concern.”

Alani laughs lightly, feeling a bit of relief when the breeze soothes her burning cheeks. The two of them make their way back into the restaurant and out the main entrance, padding down the boardwalk side by side. Harry never knows what to do with his hands, usually opting to stuff them into his pockets as he hurries down a busy street, but he desperately wishes to occupy them a different way. His pinky involuntarily brushes the back of Alani’s hand, but he pulls away quickly to avoid freaking her out. She wishes he hadn’t.

“What were you gonna do at the beach?” he asks to break the ice.

She thinks for a moment, watching the different couples huddled together on the beach. “Relax, get some air. Do a little reading,”

“What’re you reading?”

“Currently this book about Laurel Canyon in California and some of the musicians who lived there during the 60s. You might like it,”

Harry’s brow raises. “Think so?”

“Yeah, it’s got Joni, Crosby, Stills, and Nash, Mamas and the Papas, all those guys. They talk about their experiences of coming to terms with rapidly growing fame, the reality of the peace and love movement, the collaborative process. Seems like something you might find interesting—relatable, even,”

"I’ll check it out,” Harry promises with a nod.

Alani smiles gently and refocuses her attention on the horizon. “So what were you gonna do today?”

“Not much,” Think about you. “But speaking of books and stuff, I‘ve been meaning to ask. When you become, you know, the next Pulitzer Prize winner, do I get to be your plus one?”

She scoffs, squinting under the bright sun to look up at him. “I don’t know, I have to make it first,”

“And what does ‘making it’ mean to you?” Harry had been trying to re-define success, himself, and was curious to hear Alani’s thoughts on the subject.

She ponders the question for a minute, adjusting the straps of her orange tank-top to occupy her anxious fingers. “Move to New York, work for some big publication, something like that,”

“New York?” he asks, slightly taken aback. “And leave all this behind?”

“I think I’d like the change,” Alani reasons. “I love it here more than anything, but I think I’ve gotta make my own way, my own decisions. My grandma used to say that you ‘gotta swim before you drown because the ocean’s too vast and too interesting to get stuck treading water in the same place,’”

Harry nods, understandingly. “Wise woman,”

“Carolina,” Alani says, using the Spanish pronunciation that sounds like music to Harry’s ears. “That was her name, I was named after her,”

“Middle name?”

“Yeah,” she clarifies. “I’m half Mexican on my mom’s side,”

He hums. “Ever been?”

“To Mexico?” Alani asks, proceeding when he nods. “Yeah. Once when I was like, five, we went to Xcaret for my aunt’s wedding,”

“It’s beautiful there,” Harry notes.

“What’s your favorite place that you’ve been to?” Alani questions, imagining all the stamps that must be in Harry’s passport.

He thinks for a moment, a hum buzzing low in his throat as he sifts through his memory. “Probably Italy,”

“Lucky,” Alani muses, picturing the Gothic cathedrals that she longs to visit.

“You’d like it there.” Harry says, truly believing it. A part of him felt that she belonged in every beautiful place he could think of.

The two of them walk in silence for a few moments, each taking time to scope out the view around them. Alani sees a couple leaned against a staircase railing, looking deep in conversation, though probably not a pleasant one.

“You think they’re breaking up?” Alani asks gently, nodding her head in their direction. “Or just having the talk?”

Harry scans the scenery before his eyes land on the pair that she's referring to. “Ah yes, the talk. Ye olde chat,”

“What do you think you’d be if you weren’t a musician?” She poses suddenly. He laughs to himself at the way Alani jumps from topic to topic and reasons that her mind must always be going a mile a minute.

“A virgin,” Harry jokes, hoping that it’ll land. When she lets out a sudden, bright laugh, he looks over in relief.

“God, you are so…” Alani trails off, shaking her head.

He waits to see if she’ll finish the statement, but he doesn’t think she will. Truthfully, she doesn’t know what to say. The more Alani learns about Harry, the more he seems to surprise her. One minute he can be serious and thoughtful. The next, a ray of sunshine—aloof and carefree. She finds herself anticipating his every move, every word, and loving each minute that he allows her to. It makes her head spin at times, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

They journey down to the shore and discard their shoes in favor of feeling the cool sand beneath their toes. Alani tells Harry about the sea glass collection she had as a child, and he makes a mental note to scan the ground for any pieces she might like. She asks him if the beaches are nice in England, to which he responds a hard “no” compared to the ones in Hawaii or California. A couple of children splash in the shallow water nearby, and Alani doesn’t miss the fond look in Harry’s eye as he watches. Eventually, they wander back up to the main boardwalk when they spot a group of people happily sipping milkshakes. Harry noticed her eyes following them, practically drooling, so he suggested it before she had to.

“Want some?” Alani asks, her mouth full of strawberry.

Harry gladly accepts, taking a sip from the straw that she holds out to him. He hums, letting the taste sit on his tongue before he offers his own cup full of vanilla. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear before leaning over for a taste. The flavor is sweet and comforting to her, despite popular opinion that it’s boring. Alani swipes her tongue across her lower lip and thinks for a moment that this is what his mouth must taste like. She wishes she could verify this thought.

“I’m really glad you got the strawberry,” he notes, stirring his drink with the straw. “I was having a serious crisis over what to get,”

“When in doubt, always go with the pink one,” Alani says, tapping her temple, and suddenly Harry remembers that the contents of her bag were all various shades of bubble gum and dusty rose.

“It’s the only true rock ‘n roll color,” he offers, taking another sip of his milkshake.

“Paul Simonon?” she questions with narrowed eyes, instantly recognizing his reference to a quote from The Clash’s bassist.

“Nothing gets past you.”

********

The clouds above start to resemble puffs of cotton candy, signaling that the day will soon draw to a close much to both Harry and Alani’s dismay. They lounge in the pink Cadillac, which is parked in an area that overlooks the entire beach, and take turns picking out the one lie amongst two truths about one another; it was a game that Harry had proposed.

“Is it,” Alani starts, her lower lip caught between her teeth. “The four nipples?”

Harry makes a buzzer sound effect through his own laughter, temple resting against his fist as his arm drapes over the seat.

“Wrong-o, sorry,”

“What?!” she exclaims, eyes wide. “You’re messing with me,”

“Am not,” he defends proudly.

Alani lets out a surprised chuckle, fighting the urge to let her eyes wander below his neck. “I don’t believe you,”

“I’d prove it,” he shrugs. “But then I’d have to flash you,”

“Guess we’ll never know, then,”

Their laughter settles down and the only sound between them is the crashing of waves in the distance. Harry lets his eyes trail down the slope of Alani’s nose to her cupid’s bow—dangerous territory. Little does he know, Alani does the same, noting the fact that his lips are heart-shaped and the perfect shade of strawberry. How sickeningly charming, she thinks. Her eyes lift back to Harry’s and there’s something hidden behind the sea-glass that she can’t quite read. The air becomes charged and the two of them are like magnets, drawn inexplicably towards one another. Alani inches closer, her heart pounding so violently in her chest, she’s afraid that he can hear it. The sound of his own blood rushing in his ears prevents this, however, as he leans in too. The space between them gets smaller, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation, when the high pitched ringing of Alani’s phone sends her jolting backward. Harry curses every deity that he can name.

“Hello?” she responds, turning her back to him. She listens for a minute, a soft “mhmm” escaping every few seconds. “Okay, yes, I’ll be there. Thank you,”

Alani dreads having to turn back to Harry and face the consequences of whatever lines were almost crossed. She chooses to simply ignore it all together, as if no time had passed between his shocking personal revelation and the ringing of her phone.

“Stevie’s ready.” she says weakly.

Harry swallows down his frustration and offers a polite smile. “Let’s go get her.”

The mechanic shop is twenty minutes from the beach; Harry and Alani spend the entire ride in silence. Neither of them address the almost kiss despite the fact that it hangs over their heads like a raincloud of uncertain emotion. She occupies her gaze with the scenery whizzing past while he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. Alani mourns the fact that their little bubble had been popped so soon, but she figures that it’s for the best. Don’t get attached, she reminds herself. Easier said than done. Harry also wallows in the aftermath of the interruption, wishing he had acted sooner. When they finally arrive at the shop, the mechanic reveals that the cause of her car troubles was a simple dead battery. Harry offers to foot the bill, but Alani refuses, deciding that she shouldn’t accept any more favors from him in order to restore the boundary.

“So I guess this is where we part ways,” Alani says gently, toying with her keys.

Harry scans his brain for something—anything—a single excuse to see her again, and soon. He doesn’t think he can take another week and a half of icy silence and he has a suspicion that she can’t either. After all, she had leaned in, too—hadn’t she?

“There’s this thing,” he blurts out. “A sort of jam sesh at the studio tomorrow night. There’s gonna be booze, otherwise I’d tell you to bring your sister. But I’d love for you to come, and I think it might be good for—the article, or something,”

Alani weighs the pros and cons in her mind, one of which he had already mentioned: a chance to listen to what he’s working on. It seemed professional and innocent enough, not to mention the fact that there’d be other people around to keep them in check. Once she decides it’s safe, she nods.

“Okay, sure,”

“I can pick you up,” Harry offers.

Alani shakes her head gently and offers a shy smile. “No, that's okay. Tomorrow night?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there.”

They exchange good-byes and Alani thanks him for coming to her rescue, to which he offers a modest shrug. Harry speeds down the highway and back to the house, but three words linger in the silence.

I’ll be there.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles x oc #harry styles fluff #solo harry #one direction #harry fic #ybmh #sooo :))) how we feelin now

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shaggi · 3 years

Text

if i could stop time, i would

info ; eren x reader ; soulmates ; 1.8k

content warning ; end of the world concept, mentions of not really wanting to live lol, gentle angst

Day one. 72 hours until the world ends.

The world is going to shit. I know it is because I can hear the panicked buzz of mothers holding their children close and reassuring them as the news practically burned "we're all going to die" into our heads.

My fingers twitched as they held the dark blue fabric of my jeans. I'm terrified ㅡ as is the rest of the people watching the news ㅡ and it most definitely doesnt help when they plaster a large timer onto the screen counting down our days and hours left on our beloved blue planet.

"We never thought this day would come.. Ladies and gentlemen, we've reached the end of the chapter." The words echoed into the back of my mind. 'The end of the chapter'? I havent even really lived my life? I'm only seventeen.. I barely made it to graduation. I suck in a deep breath, filling my lungs fully before releasing the built up pressure.

Theres a burning sensation on my waterline, tears threatening to roll down my cheeks. My hands begin to shake when I think back to all the sleepless nights I spent not enjoying life. I took life for granted ㅡ and now it's going to end in three days. In seventy-two hours, it's all going to go away. That's not enough time to say all the things I didnt have a chance to say.

Wasted opportunities.

Wasted chances that I now no longer have control over.

My legs suddenly feel like spaghetti and walking seems like a foriegn topic to me. I just need to sit down, take a breather.

Who am I kidding. The storm inside me is raging on tonight and my hands have a handful of messy locks.

I catch glimpse of inked red calligraphy spelling out the name 'Eren' that is marked onto the inside of my forearm in small writing just an inch below my wrist. My heart swells with sadness.

The sense of realization settles in, practically telling me to 'let this sink in for a little'. I'm not ever going to get the chance to meet my soulmate. I'll never get the satisfaction of weaving their fingers with mine, to lay on the couch on cold winter nights with blankets drooped over our shoulders. Never get the chance to tell them I love them over and over again, to brush their hair behind their ears, grab them by the smooth skin of theirs and feel the fireworks of pressing my lips against their own.

I wont feel the sweet electricity course through me like people explained would happen when they touched their soulmate for the first time. I've spent seventeen years searching for this perfect person in the happiness of this little town. The universe promised a perfect person, they never promised me to meet them though.

The younger generations were lucky, for they werent born with marks. They werent tied to someone, so they dont have anything to lose other than the fact that they're too young to leave this world.

A crowd begins to pull outside, staring at the sky with both a mix of admiration and fear. The blue sky has begun to turn itself into a peach color. My town's happy vibe has now turned uneasy, scared, unsure.

That day, I walk home slowly when the sky begins to darken, taking the scenery of the autumn leaves disarray upon the concrete sidewalk. If the world is ending in three days, I'm going to make the most of it. Soak it up like a sponge. Do what I should've been doing these past seventeen years and love life for once ㅡ despite all the wrong. Despite the fact that I'll never graduate, and never meet my soulmate. I force myself to disregard the nagging thoughts that tug at my conscious.

I dont think about the fact that I'll never get a chance to buy my first apartment.

I dont think about how I wont be able to wake up every morning to make my significant other breakfast.

And I most certainly dont think about how I'll never be able to take my lovers hand at the alter and say with great pride, "I do."

Day 2. 48 hours until the world ends.

Today, I woke up early. Early enough that the sun still hasn't peaked over the clouds. They say that if you wake up early enough the day takes longer to end.

The aching pain in my chest never seems to cease. I laugh a little bitterly at the calander on the wall, I feel like its mocking me now. A part of me wants to rip the thing to shreds and scream until my throat is raw ㅡ but I said I'd make the best of these last days. So, I push these bitter thoughts from my mind and start up a warm shower.

Seventeen years of not wanting to be alive, and now I only have two days to live until the entire world completely goes to shit. Ironic, isn’t it? Why now am I so angry? The water is warm trickling down my bare body, as my shower thoughts continue treading forward to how I could make life better in less than forty-eight hours.

I walk down a different road today, deciding that routine wasnt necessary when the world is going to end in forty-eight hours. The countdown continues on nearby TVs, the bright white luminous against the dark morning sky.

It makes me feel anxious.

Destruction clouds my mind, but I bite my lip and hold my ground. This situation will not drive me crazy.

The town is a lot quieter than I expected, then again it's only 6 in the morning.

The day carries on just as any other day, the air seems heavier though. It's the night time that brings chaos.

You see, I've been walking around town all day blowing that last little bits of money I have on little things that have no purpose. The sky is the same sunset peach as it was yesterday, only barely hinting at a blue color.

There's a faint noise a few blocks from where I am standing, and at first I chose the ignore it. The yelling got louder and louder until I felt my feet pull like magnets to what was going on.

Chocolate hair, smooth tan skin shining under the soft orange of the sky, handfuls of someones shirt as this mystery man pinned some junky against the rough brick wall. His eyes held a killer glow, practically fuming from the ears. I was going to mind my own business, but then I saw the other strike at the brunette ㅡ and I dont know why, but I stepped in.

A surprise attack, a blow right to the face, maybe a minor bruise on my cheek from when the other decided to attack back ㅡ but soon he left. I turn my gaze back to the brunette who still sits on the floor, palms pressed into the concrete.

"I didnt need your help," he hissed, dusting his hands against the black fabric of his jeans.

"Oh you're welcome for saving your ass, wasnt a problem at all." My hand lifts to my face, pressing onto the bruise and wincing before squatting next to this stranger. "Is it bad? Let me see," The moment my hand makes contact with the others chin I feel the rush of electricity course through me.

Overwhelming is an understatement. Sweet emotions flooded through my mind but I can feel the pounding of fear in my veins, and bittersweet it was. When I retract my hand, I see that he's mirrored the exact expression I have; eyes blown wide, fear in the darks of his pupils.

"Eren..?" trying to keep my voice from cracking seems hard, and it comes out more like a whisper. This situation leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Where the hell has he been for seventeen years? Why is he just now showing up?

Eren immediately sprung to his feet, taking a few steps back with no words to say. I snatched at his left arm, pushing the sweaters sleeve up and over his forearm to see my name inked in blue against his paper skin. "So.. you're my soulmate?" I promise I didnt mean to make it sound disappointed ㅡ but in a way, I guess you could say I was.

So many questions raced through my mind; but the biggest question of all was why? Why now of all times we could've met? Why must I be gifted with the worst luck.

Eren isnt a bad person though, and in the few hours we've spent together I can tell you this; His favorite color is red, he lives with his mother and a girl that his family took in when they were very little - who he loves dearly, he can play guitar very well, he looks absolutely adorable with his hair tied up, and that's only the stuff he's told me within the first hour.

Words cannot express how much I wished we could have more time together, but the bright TV clocks continue to remind me that our time is running out.

"There's nothing more I'd rather do than to spend my last moments with you," Eren whispered, golden flecks in his beautiful ocean eyes. His hand was held in mine as the pained expression washed over his face. Somewhere in the conversation led us to this point of heartbreak. We both explained how we wanted nothing more than to meet earlier in life, but apparently the universe had a different plan.

The idea of parting with Eren now just seemed like a waste, and I'd much rather take my dying last breath next to the one I looked for my entire life. Falling in love is easy when you've got nothing to live for.

The walk back to my house is silent, but it's a comfortable silence, and we never seem to let go of each others hands. The house is quiet and dark when we enter.

The rest of the remaining night we have is spent cuddled under the thick blanket of mine, Eren held me close to his chest as we whisper sweet things that wont mean much in a few hours. Chaste kisses are showered over the male as I remind him of how I never stopped searching for him.

He studied my face, moving a strand of hair behind my ear before placing his palm onto my cheek and rubbing his thumb across the smoothness underneath my eye. I could feel my breath begin to shallow and my heart skip a beat. I loved the way his eyes sparkled under my dim-lit room, the way I could feel his heartbeat pulsing from how close we lay where, how steady his breathing was, and how gentle he caressed me.

Its bittersweet, and I never believed in the after life, but with him - maybe, just maybe, we will meet again in the next life.

#attack on titan #eren yeager #shaggis writing #shaggis cloud #soulmarks #eren x y/n #eren aot #snk #eren fluff #eren angst

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live-laugh-lesbian80083 · 3 years

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La Vie en Rose

1 - Don't Forget About Me

Summary: Everything about her is perfect. Her grades, her looks, her personality, everything. Desiree Hale is known as little miss perfect all throughout middle school. But when she makes the transition from being in eighth grade to being a freshman, everything changes. Not because of the change in her surroundings, but because of a girl. A girl with gorgeous brown locks and stunning eyes to match, with a voice that sounds like an angel and a smile that could melt anyone's heart. The moment Desiree laid her eyes on the girl, she knew there was something different about herself.

Word Count: 3,205

Warnings: None

Please do NOT copy, rewrite, or translate onto another site. Permission will not be given if asked for it.

Water splashes on the light gray concrete, soaking the people nearby. Meat sizzles on the grill, sending a delectable aroma through the air. Adults and children cover the lawn, chatter fills the surrounding space. The Sun's rays beat upon everything it can reach, making anything hot to the touch. This is what a Fourth of July party looks like. People having fun interacting with each other and forming relationships with people they had just met.

But not me. I've been sitting in the corner underneath an enormous oak tree with my journal full of short stories and other random notes. No one has bothered talking to me. It's not like anyone would want to talk with the girl who has her face buried in a journal. They're too busy enjoying the sun and partying. I'm not a big fan of the sun. Or parties. I'd much rather sit inside and read or write all day.

I turned the page in my notebook and began jotting down random thoughts that pop into my mind. As I looked up to relax my eyes, I noticed a girl my age approaching me in a bright blue two-piece swimsuit with a bright smile on her face. I smiled back and watched as she sat next to me on the grass.

"So, what brings you to this miserable party?" She asked, her smile not fading.

"My parents are friends with the hosts." I deadpanned. "You?"

"My parents are the hosts." She chuckled.

Silence. We stared into the distance and watched my little sister -who's only six years old- jump into the pool with a bright pink ring sitting around her waist as my dad caught her. I smiled when I heard her screams of joy.

"What's your name?" The girl said as she cleared her throat.

"Oh, it's Desiree." I stuttered, clearly being thrown off guard by the sudden question. "What's yours?"

"Zoe." She replied.

More silence. That's enough of our conversation. It's obvious neither of us gets out there or talk to others often. We've only said six things to each other. And every time we try to converse, it always starts with her asking a question.

"Wanna come to the pool with me? I think it's a lot cooler than sitting out in the sun." Zoe comments. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Actually, that sounds nice. I'll be right back." I said, standing up as my arms naturally spread to the sky to release tension.

"If you're changing, I could show you where the bathrooms are." She commented.

"That's alright. Your mom told me where they were when we got here." I replied, grabbing my bag and hurrying into the house and towards the bathroom.

Once I was inside, I quickly stripped off my clothing and changed into my black two piece. I turned to look at the mirror and pulled my dark brown hair into a high ponytail to prevent it from getting wet. Smiling, I made my way out of the bathroom and found Zoe standing by the door, waiting for me.

The two of us ran to the pool and dove into the deep end with grins spread across our faces. Fully submerged in the water, I opened my eyes and looked to my right to see Zoe watching me. I smirked and began swimming to the surface. As I broke the fine line between the water and air, I felt my lungs gasp for air and my wet hair stick to the back of my neck. There was no point in that ponytail. I quickly stroked to the edge of the pool where I met with Zoe and got greeted with a splash of water to the face. I let out a dramatic gasp and pushed water towards her as well. Before we knew it, we made our way back out to the middle of the pool again in a huge water war. The two of us looked up to see my dad running towards us from the surface. I took in as much air as possible into my lungs and dove under the water just before he got to the pool. Zoe continued swimming in place and tried to protect herself from the oncoming tidal wave, but it was no use. Dad hit the water, and I felt myself get pushed towards the other side of the pool. As I felt the water calm down, I quickly resurfaced and swallowed a breath of fresh air.

"Dinner's ready, girls." Dad laughed as he swam over to us.

"That wasn't necessary." I said, brushing loose strands of wet hair behind my ears.

"I know. I just wanted to make sure you heard me." He replied as he stepped out of the pool. "I was also extremely hot."

Zoe and I glanced at each other and laughed, making our way out of the water. We hopped in line and draped brightly colored towels around our shoulders to dry off a bit. I grabbed a paper plate and collected a hotdog, some condiments and a small bag of Doritos. I thanked the man standing by the grill for the meal and scanned the yard for Zoe to find her sitting under the tree we met at. Smirking, I rushed to the grass. Standing at her side, I placed my food onto the ground and lay the towel flat next to where Zoe had done the same. I then sat criss-crossed on the fabric and dug into my meal.

"Tell me something about yourself." I prompted, breaking the silence.

"Oh, I uh, I play guitar and bass. I'm planning on trying out for the Jazz Band at my high school at the beginning of the year." She replied simply.

"What school are you going to?" I questioned.

"James Madison. You?" Zoe answered.

"Wait, no way, me too!"

"Really? What classes are you taking?"

I told Zoe almost every single one of my classes. Art, choir, French, and theatre for my electives. Earth science, honors language arts, secondary math one, and world geography for my core classes. Zoe's classes were a lot more complex than mine. Band, creative writing, and debate for her electives. Earth science, honors language arts, secondary math two, and AP human geography for her core classes. Not to mention if she makes it into the jazz band she'll have an extra-curricular.

We talked about our friends and lives in middle school. How I was perfect with grades and had little to no issues while she had to deal with drama and barley passing classes. Why we both made such big changes for high school is a significant question that neither of us know the answer to. The conversation dragged away from school and ventured into our home lives. Zoe told me about her brother Connor, and I told her about my little sister Brooke. She talked about how Connor has changed. How they used to be friends and would play with each other when they were younger and how they've drifted over the years. How much she wishes they could be close again and how it can't happen because of things he's done.

Zoe has dealt with so much shit throughout her life. From fights with her brother to being ignored by her parents, all she wants is to be seen. Usually I'd say the two of us are different people, but in reality, we aren't. After Brooke was born, I felt lost. My life took a sharp turn I didn't see coming. But yet again, doesn't everyone who has younger siblings been through the same thing I went through? I bet it doesn't last as long for them as it did for me. The rejection, I mean. It's been six years. Six damn years and my parents still give Brooke the attention they gave her when she was born. And what have I been doing? I've tried getting them to notice me, but it never works. I learned how to paint and made them something for their anniversary. It ended up in the basement. I drew my dad something for his birthday and it ended up in the basement. I learned how to sculpt things out of clay and made a sculpture for my mom and it ended up in the basement. Everything Brooke makes gets hung up or put on display. Everything I make gets put away. On the outside, we appear as a happy family. On the inside, we appear as a happy family. But it doesn't feel like it.

I finished eating quicker than I had expected and offered to throw Zoe's trash away for her. After many tries, she gave in and let me, telling me to grab her a Dr. Pepper while I was by the drinks. I complied and grabbed myself one.

"Thanks." She said as she popped the tab on the can, sending small droplets of the soda into the air.

"It's no problem." I replied, doing the same.

Everyone at the party had resumed their activities before the meal in no time, which meant Zoe and I had returned to the pool. We were floating on a raft together, chatting about anything that came to mind, when we suddenly felt someone flip the raft, throwing us into the water. I screamed and accidentally swallowed a bit of water. Zoe did the same. We both resurfaced, coughing the liquid out of our lungs while diabolical laughter rang through the air.

"What the hell was that for, Connor?" Zoe yelled, continuing to cough.

"Your screams were hilarious!" He laughed, falling dramatically into the water.

I eventually caught my breath and finally got a glance at what this Connor character looks like. He has pale white skin and unruly dark brown hair. He's incredibly slim with little to no meat on his bones. I brushed loose strands out of my face and tucked them behind my ears. A wave came from behind me, water splashing across Connor's face. I turned to see a wicked grin on Zoe's face. I know exactly what's happening. A water fight. I quickly dove under the water as the fight began, the siblings splashing each other with water. Reaching the concrete wall of the pool, I swung my leg onto the ground and popped myself out. I cautiously ran over to a bucket of water balloons and grabbed one, chucking it at Connor's back. He turned around with a playful glare, paddling himself towards me.

"Shit, shit shit shit shit." I muttered under my breath, grabbing as many balloons as I could, sprinting onto the grass.

I heard Connor leave the water and his wet feet against the concrete. I turned around to see Zoe climbing out of the pool herself, rushing to the pool house. Getting distracted with Zoe's actions, I felt a balloon hit the back of my thigh. My head whipped around to see Connor running in the opposite direction.

Zoe ran up next to me and handed me a super soaker, saying, "Those balloons aren't getting you anywhere."

I gladly took the gun and searched the yard for her brother when I saw an arm disappear behind a bright green bush. Pointing at the bush, we nodded at each other and sneaked up on the boy. I verged left while she went right. Slipping into the groups of people, we approached the bush with smirks on our faces. Zoe held up her fingers, silently counting us down from three. Three, two, one! Both of us blindly fired our super soakers at the bush, hoping we hit Connor. Swifter than we expected, he emerged from the bush and threw his hands into the air in surrender.

"Okay! I surrender!" He yelled.

"We'll forgive you if you get us popsicle." Zoe said, not putting her gun down.

"That's not how surrender works." Connor fought.

I squirted him with water. "Well, it's how it works around here."

"Jesus, fine." he replied, walking over to the cooler with his hands remaining in the air.

"Keep your hands where we can see them." Zoe called out.

"I am." Connor said. He grabbed three rocket pops and headed back over to us. "Have we made peace?"

"Yes." Zoe and I said in unison, each of us taking one popsicle.

As all of us peeled the wrapper off the cool treat, Connor and Zoe's dad approached us. "We're starting fireworks in the front if you'd like to join us."

"We'll be there in a minute." Zoe smiled.

She snatched the wrappers from all our hands and tossed them into the trash. I hurried over to my bag and slipped on my pair of blue shorts, completely disregarding my shirt. No one will care if I'm wearing a swim top and shorts. And besides, it's way too hot. She held out her arm to me to which I took, hooking my arm around hers. For only knowing each other for a few hours, I think we're getting along well. I've never clicked with anyone so easily before so this feels too easy. Maybe Zoe's being forced to hang out with me. It doesn't feel forced, though. Or maybe our personalities function perfectly together. Whatever it is, I don't think it matters. The bond we have is like a friendship that started many years ago. But it's only been hours. And hopefully, it lasts much longer than hours. Maybe we can have what those friendships that last for years have.

Skipping towards the gate that separates the backyard from the front, I grinned and started humming the theme to The Wizard Of Oz to myself. Zoe must have heard me, for she began singing the song. I laughed and sang along as we joined the rest of the party. Glancing around the area, I found an empty spot on the grass. I pulled Zoe to the spot with me and noticed it was right next to my family.

"So that's where you went." My dad commented, throwing a handful of glow sticks at me.

"Did you not just see me chasing Connor around with a squirt gun?" I questioned, taking a seat on the grass, pulling Zoe down with me.

"Apparently not." He replied.

Zoe, Connor, and I each grabbed a handful of the glow sticks off the grass and cracked them in one snap. Light illuminated in our hands and I took one of my red sticks and poked Zoe's shoulder. She poked me back with a blue one. And the war began. We poke each other back and forth with the glow sticks, breaking into a fit of giggles.

"How about you two use the glow sticks for something other than poking each other?" My mom recommended.

"No, I don't think we will." I replied, continuing to poke Zoe.

"Yeah, this is a lot more fun." Zoe added, poking my arm.

After poking each other for way too long, we tired of it and grabbed those plastic connectors and connected the ends of the glow sticks, forming bracelets just in time for the sun to set, putting us into darkness, the glow of streetlights illuminating our surroundings. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a bright white light appear. My head snapped to look at the light to find it was someone handing a sparkler to a small child. I smirked and turned to Zoe to find her looking at me. Her cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink as her gray eyes flickered away from my blue ones.

"Hey, wanna go get some sparklers?" I asked.

"Sure!" She smiled.

We headed over to the table that held all the fireworks and grabbed a few sparklers. A man neither of us knew lit them up for us, and off we went into the middle of the street. We waved the sticks around in the air, creating patterns with the sparks. I tried spelling my name in cursive, but spelling Desiree in cursive isn't the easiest thing, and neither is Zoe. Instead, we drew pictures like hearts, stars, and cats. Yes, we drew cats in the air with sparklers. Why would we not? Is that not something that everyone does? Eventually the flammable portion of the sparkler was no more, and we had to toss them into a bucket of water on the curb.

The rest of the night was full of laughter and pure joy, something I sadly haven't experienced in a long time. Fireworks were exploding around every corner you turned. People were running in the street with explosives in their hands, with no fear in their eyes. Zoe and I quickly tired of the noise and went inside. Zoe dragged me upstairs to her room. And it looks exactly what you'd think it would look like. Periwinkle bedding with pink decorative pillows and a white chunky knit blanket displayed across the foot of the bed. The walls are a lighter shade of blue with pink flowers painted on top. White panels cover the bottom half of the walls, creating a sense of contrast. Above her bed sits a display of all the pictures she's taken with her friends and boy, is there a lot.

"Sorry, it's kind of messy right now." Zoe apologized.

"It's alright. My room is in worse condition right now." I laughed. She laughed too.

She began explaining to me how she discovered her bedroom was the perfect place to view fireworks. By simply flicking off the lights and pulling up beanbags to the window, it gave us a front-row seat to a firework show with no noise. You can see the explosions of bright colors for miles and miles across the city. Some are mere specs of light, while others are large bursts of color that illuminate the room. The sounds of the explosions are small pops, some being more powerful than others. The two of us sat in a comfortable silence for quite a while before a pair of feet came down the hallway and towards the bedroom.

"Des, it's time to go." My mom said, cracking open the door.

I groaned and stood up. "Thanks for making this party a lot more tolerable." Zoe said.

"It's no problem." I replied. "So, maybe I'll see you at school?"

"Yeah, maybe. It was nice meeting you." Zoe stood and followed me out of her room.

"You too." I smiled.

Once downstairs, Zoe joined a group of people in the backyard while I headed out to the front door behind my family. I slid into the backseat and pulled my phone out of my backpack to see multiple texts from my friends. I responded to them one by one and quickly resumed my quiet and reserved personality I had at the beginning of the day. Eventually all my notifications had receded, and it left me staring out the window of the car, watching as buildings and fireworks sped past us in blurs. Suddenly I gained the feeling you get when you think you forget something somewhere, but you don't know what it is. After sitting and thinking about it for a bit, I realized what I had forgotten. I forgot to ask for Zoe's number.

#dear evan hansen fanfic #dear evan hansen #deh fanfic #deh #zoe murphy #oc #connor murphy #larry murphy #zoe murphy x oc #bisexual fanfic #pansexual fanfic #lgbtq fanfic

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timeaftertime-chriscornellfanfic · 4 years

Text

Chapter 35 - What Have You Done My Little Spark?

Seattle Washington, July 12 1990

(Chris is 25, Andi is 20)

CHRIS: I wake up in the middle of the night, my eyes quickly flicking open, feeling my heart pounding. It's been a while since I've had a dream that woke me up like this and the crazy thing is, I can't even remember what the dream was about.

I sit myself up and glance over to see Andi sleeping so sweetly, the sheet pulled up to her ribs with her side exposed, her curls all around her with some strewn across her face. She looks completely at peace, her bare chest gently rising and falling with the perfect view of her nipples that make me want to wake her up and make love to her again.

Instead I decide to get out of bed, grab my boxers from the floor, pull them on, and quietly make my way out of the bedroom.

"Fuck, it's so damn hot in this house," I say quietly to myself.

We're right in the middle of a heatwave and of course we don't have air conditioning - not that we would be able to afford it right now anyways. I mean we're not broke but the European leg of the tour really took a lot of money out of us so we have to resort back to that beat up old van for the next round of tour dates. I was beginning to like having a bus for a little while but hey, at least when I get bored on the road, I'm usually the one to drive us. I just feel bad for Andi cause now she has to share a van with 4 guys. Not that she would mind, she seems to love it out on the road and I absolutely love having her with me. She's the one who keeps me sane.

I head into the kitchen, grab my pack of cigarettes off the counter and light one up, then open up the fridge and grab a bottle of water, and decide to head downstairs into the little studio that I set up in the basement. It's not exactly high tech or anything, just our guitars and amps and I was able to pick up an old reel to reel tape machine from London Bridge Studios - where we recorded Louder Than Love. It was one of their old machines that they just didn't use anymore and so I just bought it real cheap.

I take a seat in one of the large reading chairs we have down here, place the cigarette between my lips and pick up one of my acoustic guitars. I grab one of the journals that I have off the desk and start to flip through the pages of ideas and lyrics that I've written down. Usually when I have a hard time sleeping, I'll try and see if I can get some words and ideas down.

As I quint my eyes from the rising smoke, I flip though the journal I suddenly realize it's Andi's which makes me smile at some of her ideas. She really can come up with some great stuff so I grab a pen and start writing in some of the margins.

"I'm your disappearing one, vanish when you play your song. But I will come again and you will let me in, and you'll see I never disappear for long... Huh... shit, baby that's good..." I say to myself as I rest the cigarette on the ashtray and write something just above it.

'Falling apart, You tell yourself you are, but I am here and you're not far...’

I smirk to myself and continue on turning pages when I reach a page towards the back that had been stuffed inside the cover. Intrigued, I pull out the folded paper and open it to see a letter from Andy, dated January 25 1990

"I don't have any Idea why I'm even writing this down but you were always the one to tell me that I should. You know me though, I like to just fly by the top of my head I guess. Fuck there's so much that I want to say to you, it's just how do I even say it? I know I shouldn't. I should keep it to myself. 'I wanna tell her that I love her but does it really matter?' Yea, I know... it sounds much better in Crown of Thorns don't you think?

All I know is that night in the park by The Moore... that was the most amazing kiss I've ever had in my life. I mean, I knew I was feeling something. You, the birthday girl in all your sadness. I just wanted to take that away for just a few moments like you always did for me.

I know, I know... it's not exactly the best timing for this is it? If only I was the one who could time slip, maybe things would be different. But you were meant for Cornell and I know in my deepest of hearts that he was meant for you. I mean just watching how he is with you... you woke up something inside him that I didn't think anyone would see. But of course he's loved you since he was what - 15? You are for Chris as what I wish Xana was for me. You know I love Xana, I always will, but I just think we aren't right for each other anymore.

Really what I'm trying to say here is that I love you Andrea, more than just a friend. I always have. But I know you are meant to be with Chris and that's ok. Like I said, you two are really meant for each other. I know you two are gonna get married and have lots and lots of beautiful blue eyed babies and I just want you to know that I'm here if you need me. 'Cause I know I sure need you."

As I finish reading the last line, a rush of different feelings all seemed to flood in me at once. Anger, pain, confusion among others. What the hell did he mean about 'that night in the park'?

"Hey baby," I hear Andi's sleepy voice behind me and I turn to see her in one of my button up shirts, her dark curls all around her as she rubs her eye from sleep.

"Hey," I say flatly as I pick up the cigarette burning in the ashtray and take a drag.

"Can't sleep?" She asks and I shrug as I take another drag.

"If you come back to bed, I can help with that," She says sweetly as she comes up behind me and wraps her arms around me, her hands moving over my chest as she places a few kisses on my shoulder. I take one last drag of my cigarette, then butt in out in the ashtray but still say nothing

"What's wrong? Why are you so quiet?" She asks.

"I thought maybe you would want to explain this," I say without much emotion again as I show her the letter I found. She glances at the paper and slowly takes it from my hand while I move out of the chair. She looks it over, pushing her curls behind her ear.

"Where'd you find this?" She asks, furrowing her brow as she still reads the letter.

"Stuffed in the back of your journal," I say coldly as I set the guitar back down on it's stand. I turn back to face her as I see her still reading the letter and wait for an explanation.

"I don't know what you want me to explain, it's just a letter that Andy wrote - "

"What does he mean about 'that night in the park'? What park? When?" I cut her off. She hesitates for a moment and looks back down at the letter.

"Chris... it wasn't anything, It was when I time slipped when we were in Germany. After that fight we had remember?"

"Yea I remember. But what the fuck happened? Did you fuck him?" I say angered and hurt, feeling my heart pounding in my chest again.

"No! No, fuck no - "

"Then what does he mean?" I cut her off again. She glances back at the letter and then looks up at me, her brow furrowing as she tries to find the words.

"I just - "

"You just what?" I cut her off again my voice now louder than before.

"-Ok! I'm trying to tell you alright?" She raises her voice back at me. We then look at each other in silence for a few moments and then she begins to explain.

"... there wasn't anyway that I could tell him what was going to happen. As much as I wanted to, I just couldn't. You and I just had that fight and I was so upset, and seeing him just made me miss him so much. Being able to talk to him and laugh like nothing had happened... it hurts. I was just so sad because he was right there in front of me and I couldn't bring you with me to see him alive again. Like nothing had ever happened and... I don't know it just happened. He kissed me. It was innocent... nothing else happened I swear,"

I could see the tears that she held at bay, explaining to me how she actually was able to go back and see Andy again. I wasn't exactly sure how to feel about it.

"He says he's in love with you in that letter... were you in love with him too?" I ask not sure if I want to hear the answer. She drops the letter on the chair and walks over to me, looking up into my eyes.

"No Chris. My heart is yours. I swear I could never love anyone else as much as I love you," She says and I reach out to cup her face in my palm. Sometimes I forget just how hard it is on her to travel back in time and see the people who have long gone in her life - our life - and to come back and know that they are no longer here.

I lean down and touch my forehead to hers as she moves her hands up over my abs and to my chest.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" I ask calmly.

"I didn't want to make you upset. I didn't want you angry with him... or me," She says.

"I'm not angry, I'm just... I don't know," I say.

I wanted to stay angry. I wanted to stay hurt but she always has a way of making me want her, even when I'm pissed off at her. I suddenly find my lips on hers, my hands on her hips pulling her closer to me, moving around and feeling her ass cheeks through the bottom of my black button up shirt she threw on.

"You should've told me," I repeat softly when I break away from her lips.

"I know," She says sweetly and presses her lips back to mine, her fingers finding their way through my curls, pulling me into her. My hands move up under her shirt, feeling the softness of her pale skin, skipping across her back as she sighs against my lips.

Holy fuck I want her so fucking bad.

"If you come back to bed... I promise... I'll make it up to you," She says in between her kisses. I moan against her lips as she moves her hand down to the front of my boxers, palming me through the thin fabric which almost instantly sprang me to life. She pulls away and bites her bottom lip, raising her eyebrow at me and turns to make her way towards the stairs and as I watch her walk away, admiring that cute ass of hers, she looks back at me stopping at the first step.

"You coming?"

"I will be," I raise my eyebrow back at her and run towards her. She squeals with laughter as I chase her up the stairs, catching her, and carrying her the rest of the way.

#chris cornell #soundgarden #time after time #time travel #also on wattpad #alternate universe #also on ao3 #fantasy #chris cornell fanfiction #soundgarden fanfiction

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punkscowardschampions · 4 years

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Jesse & Jac

Jesse: [okay so in my head it's at least the next day and obviously she's not going to school and neither is he because lowkey doesn't want to ever but brings her a cup of tea in the morning when everyone else is going off and then leaves] Jac: Practicing for your illustrious career in the café industry? Jac: Dad will be equal parts proud and horrified Jac: that'd be a...latte, yeah? Jesse: Depends on if you reckon it's needed Jac: Think it's a flat white, actually Jac: I'll ask him, be nothing but thrilled Jesse: thrilled about you talking Jac: you could be a little more buzzing yourself, honestly Jesse: I am Jesse: silent brooding works better for lads Jesse: and it's sorta my gig Jac: Don't worry, I'll leave your guitar out of my 'brooding' Jac: keep it truly 🤐 Jesse: 👍 Jac: You been tasked to make sure I don't top myself or this purely about your knowledge adversion Jesse: writer's block Jac: well you aren't co-opting my heartbreak Jac: not being another bitch who never gets the credit she's due Jesse: have a credit Jesse: don't matter to me Jac: Got enough hits, Mr Sensitive? Jac: alright Jac: it would piss Jude off if I got mine 'fore her Jesse: chart faves are shitting themselves Jac: yeah, you're well top40, always said so 😏 Jesse: prefer the 🤐 off you then Jac: Charming Jac: no wonder I'm so well-adjusted Jesse: you're doing alright Jac: Ha, what are you basing that expert opinion on? Jesse: 👀 Jac: Notoriously deceptive, 👀s Jesse: depends whose Jac: Remember when we started school Jac: and the teachers used to get our names the wrong way 'round Jesse: yeah Jesse: put a k on yours and an i in mine Jac: right Jac: maybe we can really commit to the swap now Jesse: if you like Jac: I could get the silent brooding down Jac: my sex aside Jesse: I'm not doing everything you do Jesse: be knackered Jac: you kidding? Jac: I'm laying here watching this cuppa go cold Jesse: [comes in and drinks it because we don't waste tea in this house] Jesse: don't stare at an empty mug Jesse: that's 💔 Jac: [the smallest lol ever] Jac: what do I do then? Jesse: [gets his guitar and starts teaching her some basics, like well if you're gonna be me] Jac: [that's a nice moment] Jesse: [just passing that guitar between them like] Jac: ['does it work then?'] Jesse: [a look like what?] Jac: [looks at the guitar then does 💔 mime] Jesse: [gets his phone and shows her how many songs/playlists etc there are on spotify or wherever about heartbreak with a shrug like it must do] Jac: [a look back that says 'or it doesn't'] Jesse: [a look back like maybe nothing does and looks at his imaginary watch like maybe time does] Jac: [scatching look like your mother] Jesse: [😏 like both of your parents] Jac: [taps the empty mug like make us another one? 'might be able to drink some of this one'] Jesse: [goes to do that and will bring her biscuits of course] Jac: [I'd love a biscuit rn tbh] Jesse: you know what would work? Jac: tell me Jesse: 🥊 Jac: I can barely hold a mug Jac: you want an easy win that bad? Jesse: you held a guitar Jac: not as hard as you want girls to believe, pretty boy Jesse: piss off Jac: 😏 Jesse: told ya you were doing alright Jac: not dead yet Jesse: 👍 Jesse: Jude would have it said you are Jesse: or dying Jac: She's got Auntie Grace's dramatic streak Jac: she'll wanna 🥊 me for saying it but can't hide from the truth Jesse: she wants to knock out loads of people Jesse: get in line Jac: I'm not queuing Jesse: 💔 isn't a killer then? Jac: Haven't you ever? Jac: ❤ or 💔 Jesse: only been in like Jac: reckon I've only ever been out Jesse: what do you mean? Jac: I thought it was ❤ Jac: but it weren't Jesse: weren't to you Jesse: or weren't to them Jac: Is there a difference? Jesse: yeah Jac: if it's not reciprocated Jac: it's not real Jesse: if it was real to one of you Jac: Only in my 🧠 Jesse: you reckon? Jac: I know now Jesse: if they even know Jac: what do you mean? Jesse: how they feel might be complicated Jesse: in their 🧠 or ❤ Jac: She made her feelings really clear Jesse: one of them Jac: It's not even how much this hurts Jac: and it does Jac: but I'm going to be completely alone Jesse: [brings her the tea and biscuits and does the feelsy lean on her that JJ do like no you won't] Jac: [just tapping his hand like she did the mug because we can't be smiling or showing appreciation in any way more than this rn] Jesse: [we drinking tea and eating biscuits cos emotions] Jac: [again, a nice moment, even though if you could cry, you would be] Jesse: [his biscuit falling in his tea and him doing the 💔 mime] Jac: [kisses her teeth like amateur 'won't tell dad'] Jesse: [does a little spur of the moment song about it that's so silly] Jac: [snorts 'oh, now I get why you have fans, yeah' shaking her head] Jesse: [throws a pillow at her because father's son] Jac: [hits him with it, obvs] Jesse: [lets her because it'll help] Jac: [should turn into you lowkey angrily beating him with the pillow like a crazy grieving person 'cos tea] Jesse: [100% approved and he'll eventually just hug her when she's exhausted her anger] Jac: [allowing it 'cos you need it] Jesse: [you seriously do gal] Jac: [loved this tbh] Jesse: [I like them together a lot] Jac: [but not in an incesty way ty] Jesse: [no no] Jac: [later, like, he left] Jac: thanks Jesse: it's just tea Jac: no just about, boy Jesse: 🙄😏 Jac: just let me know when you need a cup, yeah? Jesse: every hour on the hour Jesse: tah Jac: don't take the piss, like Jesse: don't sound like me Jac: 'course not Jesse: real food? Jac: biscuits are the most important food group Jesse: Dad entered the chat Jac: thank fuck he hasn't Jesse: worse people to talk to Jesse: in this house Jac: don't need to tell me Jac: dreading when she gets back Jesse: I'll take her on a dog walk Jesse: long Jac: throw a ⚾ and lose her Jac: bless Jesse: you've done the runner Jac: it worked so well Jesse: no seeing the future Jac: dunno if anyone thinks it's all that shocking Jesse: you weren't doing it for shock factor Jac: mum thinks I'm such a prick Jesse: She don't have the full story Jesse: and she can be a prick Jac: she ain't saying it like a compliment Jesse: not personally gutted that you weren't as good at pissing off as her Jac: 🤢 Jac: careful Jesse: 🤠 Jac: gotta live up to the namesake, yeah Jesse: don't wanna be the other McCartney Jesse: and you're more likely to invent Facebook than I am Jac: but how will I know I've got a beautiful soul now? 💔 Jesse: Talk to her Jac: who Jesse: the girl you love Jac: I can't Jesse: not today Jesse: but she's not going anywhere Jac: she's gone Jac: I can feel it Jac: nothing is the same now Jesse: loads has been happening Jesse: cut her some slack Jac: you didn't see the look on her face Jesse: I've seen her with you loads of other times Jac: she was in love with Tyler Jac: everyone knew it Jesse: was Jac: that was me Jac: their breakup Jesse: No it weren't Jac: I've done a lot of shit Jesse: that's not why she reacted like she did Jac: She's straight Jac: regardless Jesse: she said? Jac: the 👀 Jesse: it's for her to say Jesse: I got shit scared the 1st time I performed, it don't mean I never wanted to again Jac: well, she can Jac: not getting my hopes up here though Jesse: she'll be alone an' all Jac: if she weren't 💬 him in her uber back Jesse: you reckon? Jac: probably Jac: wouldn't be surprised Jesse: that's rough Jac: mhm Jesse: You wanna come to tonight's gig? Jac: How 💔 is your set? Jesse: it ain't Jesse: but it ain't set in stone Jac: don't go changing it on my account Jac: not fit to be seen by the public Jesse: write down the songs you wanna hear Jesse: if you can hold a pen Jesse: pub's in the middle of nowt Jac: I could use a drink that don't have milk in Jac: no white russians Jesse: should've said Jac: not before 5PM Jesse: real food 1st Jac: Dad entered the chat Jesse: don't wanna clean up your 🤮 you prick Jac: then don't Jac: and I'm not an amateur Jesse: 🖕😏 Jac: they got a 🚽 yeah? Jesse: Dunno Jac: Jesus Jac: super ⭐dom is well glam Jesse: Piss off Jac: can we be out the house 'fore they're all back or what Jesse: if you like Jac: you don't wanna be unfashionably early though Jesse: we can find somewhere else to go Jac: alright Jac: better than repeating the same conversations again Jesse: 👍 Jac: 🤠 Jesse: dress code? Jac: I'm not that gay Jesse: gutted Jac: 💔 Jesse: if we ain't matching, better not Jac: let us borrow a hat Jac: not gonna be pulling Jesse: Alright Jac: give me time to wash Jesse: don't have to queue Jac: polite to pretend I ain't a state Jesse: is it? Jesse: or are you just not? Jac: oh yeah, winning at life, me Jesse: weren't what I said Jesse: but you don't look like Alice Cooper, you can have that Jac: Cheers Jesse: 🏆

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headoverhiddles · 6 years

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The Stiffs, The Stiffy, and Me - Billy Blaze (Night Shift) x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: Your wild and cute coworker Billy and you go back to his place on a whim, while Chuck holds down the fort for the night shift.

Notes: I love Michael Keaton lol and I love this movie. Watch it if you haven’t, it’s hilarious, and so is he!

The quaint little morgue that you worked in was only a temporary job.

You would be onto bigger, better things soon, but for now, it was a good job, and it was a shift that worked perfectly for you-- no people around at night. Except for your coworkers.

One was a very docile guy, Chuck, probably in his thirties or fourties, who had been working here forever. He was nice enough. Then there was the other one... the one you couldn't get out of your mind. Billy.

He was crazy. He was a fast talking, party animal idea man. His energy was so exciting to you, and his charismatic charms were not lost on you either.

You put your jacket on around halfway through your shift. Across the room, your two coworkers talk softly.

Chuck folds a file up. "You know, (y/n) is very much into you."

Bill waves a hand. "Naaah, she's totally n-- really?"

Chuck fixes him with a look. "Yeah, Billy, really. She's dropping hints left right and centre, you'd have to be dense not to pick up on them!"

Bill blinks, and clears his throat. "Yeah, I knew she was into me, I was just... checking to see if, uh... if you knew, cause you know, it's exciting news, not surprising, but--"

"Yeah okay, she's over there if you're wondering," Chuck mutters, trying to hide his smile. Billy whips around, sees you, and turns back, licking his palms and slicking back his hair.

"How do I look?"

"Like you do every day."

"Only cooler, right?" he winks.

"Oh sure."

Bill grabs a couple wads of tissues. He looks both ways, unzipping his fly, and stuffs them into his crotch. "I'm packing tonight when I get it in!" He grins, and Chuck raises his eyebrows.

"Billy?"

"Yessiree, Chuck-man?!"

"She's going to be unzipping that, if you do in fact 'get it in'."

He points down, and Bill snaps his fingers. "You're right. You know, you always have my back, Chuck, I love you buddy."

"I love you too Bill, and so does she, so pull up your pants and turn around." Bill turns, and comes face to face with you.

You bite your lip, looking at the handsome young man, standing there in his loose jacket that's a few sizes too big, his hair in a mess of curls, and his headphones around his neck. He gives you that lopsided grin; it's a smile different from the usual cocky ones he gives, one that he reserves for you alone. It's a smile that looks like he's just been blindsided.

"Your fly is undone," you wink. He goes red, and immediately scrambles to zip himself back up and look cool doing it.

"Thanks. You, uh, you look sweet," he says.

"So do you," you return. He blinks out of his trance.

"You noticed? Aw, you flatter me."

You giggle. "Hey, um... I was hoping you'd--"

"Do you wanna go to dinner?!" he suddenly blurts, and curses. "Shut up Bill, let the woman speak!" he hisses, and you poke his hand, taking a step closer.

"Well I'm real hungry now, if you wanna split."

"Chuck--" Billy begins to beg.

"Got it," the older man says, dismissing you two. As Bill's leaving after you, he spins around and does a celebratory air guitar riff for Chuck, who just shoos him out again.

At his car, Bill opens the passenger door for you.

"Hey," he says once inside, "Okay, this gives me an idea, hold the phone...” he clicks his recorder, “This is Bill, I’m gonna write a porn about two people bangin’ in a morgue, call it...” He puts his hands up. “The Stiffs, The Stiffy, and Me.””

You hesitate. “But we’re not banging in a morgue.”

“I didn’t say it was gonna star us!” He side eyes you as he turns the ignition. “Unless... you feel like starring in a porno, I mean--”

“No.”

“Cool, sweet, no sweat. Hey you wanna know something pretty rad?"

"What?"

"The windows in here are tinted. So... theoretically, if we wanted to fuck, we could 100% do so, even in front of cops with binoculars, I shit you not."

You giggle, and lean over. He leans in too, so both of you are leaning on the console. "Bill... sorry to disappoint..." His face falls a little as he braces himself for his usual rejection. "--But the positions I wanna get you in just wouldn't work in here."

His eyes widen, and he grins, revving up the engine. As he drives through city traffic, you put your hand on his thigh, slowly inching your way up. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and you finally unzip him.

"Oh shit," he murmurs, smiling excitedly. You smirk up at him, and reach over, taking his cock out of his boxers. "Oh, shit!" he repeats, mouth dropping, "Oh, god yes." You start to jerk him, and climb over the armrest, lowering your mouth down over him as he drives. "Oh, fuck yes... this is instantly the greatest, most rocking night ever, babe," he groans, and you continue to suck him. "Fuck, gonna crash the car. Wow. Wow!"

"Don't crash the car," you mumble.

"I won't crash the car," he nods, and finally floors it down his street. Pulling up in front of his apartment, you zip him back up, and grin at the sight of his erection straining against his jeans.

He jumps out of the driver's side, practically skipping to your side, and opens the door for you, offering his arm playfully. You take it, and he immediately pulls you in, holding your arms to him as he kisses you. Your head spins with the intensity of it, and you kiss back. The two of you don't stop for the door-- he blindly feels his way in with the key, and you two do the same thing in the elevator, kissing and moaning and touching. A woman gets on at the fourth floor, and ducks each time one of you flails out, trying to avoid a collision.

Once inside his apartment, he slams the door, one arm on either side of your head. His gaze is predatory-- you want him bad. He picks you up bridal style, and kicks his way through all kinds of crap on the floor, like magazines, take out containers, and clothes.

"Wasn't expecting guests," he teases, swooping down to kiss you again.

You both fall back onto his bed, and you roll over top of him. His radio is on, playing classic rock that gets your blood pumping even more than it is.

"Yeah," he groans, hands coming down to feel your hips, "That's so good..."

"I just wish we had more room on here," you grin, and he holds up a finger.

"Hold the phone!" He gets out his tape recorder, and clicks a button, raising an eyebrow. "Bill here... sex-sized beds. Perfect for two people!"

"Isn't that just a queen?" you laugh.

"It's all in the marketing. Everyone's gonna want my sex bed," he explains excitedly.

"For now..." you redirect his attention with your breasts as you unhook your bra, and he lets out a little noise, eyes popping. He feels them, and bucks his hips up, so you unbuckle him, pulling his jeans down. He kicks them off. You take your pants off as well, panties with them, and after he rolls a condom on, you slide down over his dick, sighing softly at the stretch.

"Ya like it?" he smirks, "Big enough for ya?"

"It’s perfect," you smile, flipping your hair back, and start to ride him into the bed. He groans, clutching you, and soon, he sits you two up, kissing you hard as you wrap your legs behind his back, both of you in a sitting position. You look into each other's eyes as he pounds you, every thrust bringing you closer.

"You look real hot like this," he breathes, captivated by you. You smile, bopping your coworker, friend, and apparently lover on the nose.

"You're cute."

He groans, pulling you tighter to his bare chest as he fucks you. You tilt your head back, then lean forward, letting your forehead fall against his as warmth begins to build in your stomach.

"So hot... so, so fuckin hot," he grins, laughing, and you laugh too, letting the beat and the guitar in whatever Zeppelin song playing take you away.

"Gonna come," you gasp, your pussy clenching around him.

"Hell, baby, me too, yeah, me too," he grimaces, and you both meet in the middle, kissing as you come. He's still hard as you come down, so you turn around, getting on all fours. He licks his lips, and starts thrusting fast, holding your back and feeling your ass as he chases his release. Three more thrusts, and he comes into the condom, chanting your name. The radio announcer announces some ACDC, and you let out a whistle.

"You know something?" You turn your head behind you. "I've never come that hard in my god damn life!"

Bill balks. "Seriously?"

"Yeah!" you laugh.

"Shit," he mutters, then shrugs. "Then let's do it again." You giggle, and you two get to making out.

----

The next night at work, Chuck sees you two come in together. "Was it a fortuitous evening?" he asks from his desk, fingers folded.

"It was pretty freaking fortuitous, Chuck, yeah," Billy grins, winking your way, and you blush as you go to get your uniform on.

"I'm glad, because it was our busiest night," Chuck shakes his head, "The one night you choose to grow a spine." Bill scoffs.

"I always had a spine! I just... y'know, took it out and dusted it off last night."

"Please don't talk to me about dusting off spines, I had enough of all kinds of bones last night."

"Well, glad you had a good night with the stiffs, buddy! I sure had a good time with MY bone, and my uh... new chick." He pulls you in for a kiss and dips you, as Chuck rolls his eyes.

"Adorable. Now get to work doing nothing."

#night shift #michael keaton #henry winkler #michael keaton x reader #reader x michael keaton #bill blaze #billy blaze #billy blaze x reader #reader x bill blaze #reader x billy blaze #beetlejuice #night shift movie #night shift 1981 #jackie brown

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