#writing in a cafe again how predictable

[dearduende]

coffee and poetry

sip by sip

I sit a while

the cup runneth over

the coffee flows

and so do I

and here we are

again

all I’ve ever wanted

to sit a while

with coffee and poetry

flowing again

[yandere-romanticaa]

Low key building upon this post. Why? Because it was originally supposed to be more smutty but I'm a chicken who can't write smut, so I tried dipping my toes here. Nothing too extreme mind you, I'm still a big baby. Sue me. This was also written in a cafe in like, under 20 minutes so...

"I won't make you do anything you don't want to."

That mantra has been inside of your head for months now, ever since the bastard hunter took you. In some strange way, he did somewhat keep that promise and that made you feel so damn bitter. Kinich only really forced you to do the utmost basic necessities to keep you sane and alive - nothing more, nothing less.

He was still the same old Kinich you knew. Nothing was free of charge. The only reason why he still kept you around was because it made him feel good, or so he liked to remind you every so often.

That was precisely why the current predicament you were in was so damn bizarre.

Kinich panted beneath you, his eyes widened in shock as the faintest outline of blush dusted his cheeks, his shoulders quivering ever so slightly as you held him tightly on the bed. His arms found your hips and swiftly settled there, occasionally groping the soft skin whenever the opportunity arose.

Never in his wildest dreams could Kinich have predicted that you would ever greet him home like this.

Practically giving him no room to breathe, he was pounced on like a hunter does to its prey, giving him absolutely zero time to react. Your movements were desperate and clumsy but he did not care, not when everything felt so damn good. Kinich stared at you through half lidded eyes, his gaze seeping with exhaustion but want, so much so that he was inclined to gently nibble on your lower lip, which he gladly did.

A small noise escaped you, a silly mixture between a whimper and a cry but to Kinich's ears, it felt as though the gates of heaven had been opened.

Slipping his tongue in, he swiftly sealed your lips with his own, your own saliva and spit merging with his in some sort of flimsy but erotic dance. It was messy, he noted as he felt the spit gently trailing down his cheek, which he did not care about whatsoever. Your touch was hotter than the sun and it set his whole body ablaze with a lust which he had never felt before.

Was it normal for a person to want another this badly?

It most likely was not, Kinich reasoned. But that same reason was thrown out the fucking window once he felt your hips being pressed into his own, grinding ever so lightly against him. It was sudden but good, more than plain old good actually.

Kinich could hear your pants but chose not to pay attention to them. He was going to fight you on this for as long as he could, he was never going to stop kissing you if he could have his way.

Even so, Kinich himself felt his lungs burning for sweet air, but his heart was beating straight out of his chest and his mind was in tatters.

He cannot let you go. Not when you finally had given into him.

With his brute strength, Kinich broke free from your hold and roughly grabbed you by the waist, switching places that now you were the one who was pinned. He broke the kiss, finally, and slowly brought his arm up to his face, wiping away the spit off his lips. He stared down at you in a frenzy as he took the sight in - eyes screwed shut with a pained look on your face, heavy pants leaving your lips as you desperately tried to regain your composure but kept utterly failing each time.

It was so damn cute, he muttered wistfully.

Ever the opportunist, Kinich dove back down once more, his lips on yours again. One hand kept your arms pinned above your head while the other was lowered down towards your shirt, his skilled fingers ripping the fabric off. You yelped beneath him, not expecting the sudden force but that was alright too.

It simply added on to the cuteness.

Kinich felt himself growing harder by the second, his pants becoming more and more uncomfortable. He lost count with how many nights he had wasted away daydreaming about this exact moment - you, on his bed, stuffed full of his cock as his name was chanted like a sick love spell, over and over and over - let the whole valley hear, heck, let absolutely every human and beast hear who was making you feel so good. Your pleasure was officially in his hands now and there was no turning back now.

That was the initial idea, at least.

"HEY, HEY! What do you two freaks think you're doing?!"

Ajaw's shrill scream rang throughout the entire hut, its body now a mixture of bright orange and angry red, its tiny arms raised as high as they could be as it continued to complain.

"Kinich! I knew you were a freak but this crosses the line, even for YOU !" yelled the tiny dragon creature, its sharp gaze now stuck on you both.

"Sick perverts! How dare you subject the Mighty Dragon Lord to such an uncouth sight!"

Ajaw continued to complain over and over again as Kinich slowly distanced himself from you. He still lay there on top of you, albeit with his back fully straight now as his gaze became hollow. You could not tell if he was trying to tune out Ajaw or if he was listening intently but that question would be answered soon enough.

Still loudly complaining, Ajaw continued to prattle on and on, forcing Kinich to let out a very long and frustrated sigh. With a cool gaze Kinich raised his arm slightly in the air, his back still turned towards Ajaw as he made the "come here" motion with his finger. The tiny dragon obliged, thinking that his servant was going to give him a proper apology which he rightfully deserved - only to be met with the harshest smack across the head he had ever felt.

The impact was so loud that it echoed loudly across the entire room. Ajaw landed on the ground, dazed entirely and just stayed there, not making a sound. Still on top of you, Kinich lazily checked the ground to see where Ajaw had landed, and once he was satisfied with the findings, Kinich nodded to himself, his entire focus being shifted back towards you. With an outstretched arm, he placed a hand at the back of your head and gave your neck a soft but determined kiss. From the corner of your eye, you could see the faint outlines of the marks on his body beginning to glow but you did not know why, nor did you bother to ask.

Your body felt a little lighter as Kinich got up, the entire bed suddenly so much more free and cozy. Grabbing the hem of the blanket felt like the right thing to do, which you did. Kinich stood by the bed and watched you for a few seconds, his palm pressing your head down towards the pillow as he tucked you in.

"You did good tonight." he praised softly.

"I'll make sure to be a little nicer towards you. After all, how could I not be after tonight?" said Kinich with a snort, his lips forming into a smug smirk. You growled under your breath, frustrated to see your captor see so damn happy but you knew that in the long run, this was the best thing to do. A happy Kinich was a good Kinich.

It just made things easier. And that was the stone cold truth.

With a light pep in his step, Kinich walked towards the exit, grabbing his jacket along the way.

"I'll be out late tonight, commission. If Ajaw hadn't interrupted... I would have completely forgotten about it."

His tone was flat but cool, low key signaling that he was indeed telling the truth. Saying nothing, you covered your head with the fuzzy blanket and heard Kinich laugh under his breath one last time before leaving you to your own devices.

Times like these felt perfect for an escape attempt but experience had taught you well. No matter how far you went, Kinich would just track you down and bring you back by the ear if he had to.

He definitely had the monster like strength to do so.

With a huff you closed your eyes, blushing a little as you felt the pleasurable heat down your body, causing your legs to press themselves shut on instinct. The best thing to do now was to get some rest, nothing more, nothing less. The day had been long and draining, which only added to your sleepiness. In less than a few minutes darkness had taken over, your mind and body completely shut off from the rest of the world.

Meanwhile on the ground next to you, Ajaw quickly opened one eye and kept an ear out. Once he realized that you were fast asleep, only one thing could be said.

"Darn it."

[jarofstyles]

Teenage Dirtbag 5

Here we go again! I decided to bring back Fratrry in the rotation. For those of you who didn’t read them yet (or forgot) check out the series masterlist. These updates are shorter so I can get them out somewhat frequently instead of making you wait hehe.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 170+ exclusive writings

Teenage Dirtbag Masterlist

WC- 1.5k

Warnings- asshole H, angst, Y/N putting him in his place as usual

----

Harry knew he should be a bit more cautious when it came to Y/N but… god, how could he not try and push the envelope if it meant her maybe giving into it again? 

The reality of it was that Y/N, a girl who hated his guys most likely, had been the best fuck he’d ever had. She had blown his mind in the literal and metaphorical sense, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Fate had a funny way of working, sure, but he couldn’t be too mad considering he knew their chemistry was too good to push away completely. 

H: what do ya want from the cafe, baby doll? 

Y/N: nothing that you’ve touched. 

Harry smirked at his phone. So predictable, already back with the snarky responses. It worked him up a bit, thinking about how this snarky girl had pleaded for more, kissed him sloppily as his balls smacked against her ass and dragged her nails down his scalp. Such a sweet thing for him that night had gone right to being sour as soon as she left. 

H: ok, so you want me to lick your cake pop. Got it. 

H: it isn’t like we haven’t shared saliva before ;) 

Y/N: yeah, lick on it and then choke . Let me know how that goes so I can cancel our session this afternoon. 

The hope was to bring the sessions here one day. As much as Y/N had disdain towards him, the sparks had flown during sex. She had loved it just as much as he did- he’ll, during their last round she had pushed him on the bed and rode his cock until he was sensitive, her nail marks left on his chest for days. 

H: I’ve got something else you can choke on, baby

Y/N: I will quite literally not show up today, your grades be damned. 

His lips puffed in a pout. He was pushing it, but it was so fun to rile her up. Eventually, he hoped she would give in and like him. See the fun parts of him like other people did- but for now, he would play this game. Cat and mouse… though he wasn’t quite sure which one he was. 

H: fineeee. I’ll be good. 

For now. 

Y/N: please do. It was a mistake and we don’t need to keep bringing it up. 

It was a mistake he very much wanted to repeat, over and over again. 

H: yes, maam. I’ll see you at 2 🫡

Y/N: don’t be late, I’m serious. I have something afterwards and I can’t be late 

H: oooo, a hot date? 

Y/N: yes, actually. So don’t fuck this up or you aren’t getting your full hour. 

His smirk quickly fell. 

She was going on a date? With fucking who? 

That wasn’t in his plans. For some reason, guiltily, he hadn’t anticipated the idea of someone else making a move on the girl he wanted to fuck. Let alone her accepting. She seemed like such an ice queen with him that it led him to forget just how sweet she was to literally everyone else.

It was slightly infuriating, how everyone had nothing but good things to say about her. She was nice and she helped out this person when they moved, she helped plan this persons birthday party, she spotted this person 5 when they went to get coffee… there was no denying everyone else got the sweet parts while all the sourness was reserved for him. 

And yet, he still pushed her. Still played this game and taunted her because how the fuck else was he supposed to get her attention? He was going to have to kick it up a notch.  

——

“Who’s the date with?” He asked in the middle of their session, ignoring the paper in front of him as he looked at her. She was way more dressed up than he’d seen her at a tutoring meet before, a little skirt that brushed her thighs and a little button up tucked into it giving it a sweet but sexy combination that made him a little twitchy. 

In all honesty it had been hard to focus since he seen her today. All he could think about was how those pretty lips had been bitten and swollen from his kisses, how they’d curled around his name so fucking sweetly that it had his cock stirring at the memory. Her perfume was seemingly freshly applied and it was interfering with his brain chemistry or something, because all he wanted to do was throw the books to the side and pull her up to straddle his lap. 

He imagined her hands knocking off his SnapBack, tangling in his hair as she rode his cock right in the secluded part of the library. His hands under her skirt and gripping her plush ass yet again, unbuttoning that little shirt and leaving more marks on her skin. 

Marks he caught a glimpse of as she suddenly looked up at him. 

“His name is Derek.” She cleared her throat. “He asked me out on Monday so I decided to say yes. He’s really nice.” For some reason she looked embarrassed by the information she had divulged, like she hadn’t meant to say all of that. 

That sneaky little minx. 

“Uh huh…” he let his eyes linger on the bruising that was fading but not quite covered by the collar of her shirt. “And what is Derek going to think of this pretty little thing?” 

It was gentle, his knuckle lightly brushing over the mark he remembered sucking during the first round. He knew he had caused some nice little lovebites but that one was still healing, so it was probably a dark one. Fuck, it probably looked hot as fuck when it was first developing. “Suits you, y’know. My marks on your skin. I could put some more there, If you want.” 

He was pushing it and he knew it, getting closer to her as his nose brushed her cheek. She wasn’t pushing him away, so he counted that as a good sign. “I could take you back to my place and I could give you quite a few more. A refresher course because… I highly doubt this guy is gonna be able to make you squirt all over his dick. Which you did with me, twice.” He hummed, letting his fingers fall a bit deeper down the collar of her shirt. “I don’t think he’s going to give you what you need, princess. We already did it once and so we’ll… it would just make sense to do it again. I think we have gotten well enough acquainted that I could do the job.”

He hadn’t seen the cold drink coming. Poured all over his lap and seeping through his shorts, he yelped as the icy liquid  hit his skin. “Oi! What the fuck?” 

“I told you, last time was a one and done for this particular reason, Styles.” She snarled, grabbing her books and hurrying to shove them into her bag. “Because you’d be a fucking pig and see me as a sex object instead of a human being. I’m not some fucking challenge, I’m a girl with feelings and I- I told you, I wasn’t doing it again and it meant it!” 

“Babe- no, I wasn’t suggesting that at all. I’d never say that shit.” He tried to fight, unsure how it had gone south so fast. Apparently, he was shit at reading her cues. Worse than he originally thought. 

“You don’t have to say it. You suggest it. You don’t respect what I say. This is why I was never going to go and do anything with you. Who gives a fuck how hot you are if you’re an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t get his head out of his own ass to see exactly why people don’t like you.” Slinging her bag across her shoulder, she scowled at him. “This isn’t going to work. I’ll find you another tutor. I can deal with your stupid flirting, but throwing what we did in my face? Absolutely the fuck not.”

Harry didn’t have a chance to defend himself, feeling incredibly confused as she ran off. Any call of her name went ignored, the librarian hushing him as he made his way out of the doors but it was too late. She was god knows where. 

Who knew those legs could run so fast?

He was a little pissed that she was assuming he thought of her as some sort of object. He didn’t mean to make her feel any sort of way about it all, not thinking he was throwing it in her face, but apparently she thought so. 

H: Y/N can you please come back???

H: I didn’t mean to upset you 

H: I know I can be a dick and that’s part of our thing but I never thought of you as a sex object and I never would 

H: I didn’t think I was throwing it in your face 

H: can you answer me please????

H: I don’t want a new tutor, I want you :( 

H: y/n, cmon 

H: alright, I’ll try again tomorrow. But we need to talk. Please.

[sikayeto]

Thanks Darling! So about that request? Could you write about one of the 141 boys, confessing their love to the reader? 😊

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ Lucky ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

[ kyle "gaz" garrick x reader ]

[tw: none, all fluff]

[requested: @/missvanta-xoxo]

[summary: Kyle is always there when you need him]

[a/n: The prompt kind of got away from me with this one, but I hope you still like it! Thank you for being my very first ever request <3 First ever work on tumblr, yay!]

⊹₊⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹ ⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹ ⊹₊ ˚‧

“What are you starin’ at love?” Kyle asks with furrowed eyebrows, angling his body in front of you to focus on him. Sitting across from him at your favourite cafe, you spotted an elderly couple cuddled next to each other on a nearby bench that looks across a small pond. 

“That couple over there,” you raise a finger to point them out. “They look so sweet. I wish I had that.” 

If you had been paying attention to Kyle, you would have noticed a flash of sadness appear for a second on his face. Missed just slightly by your longing for what was in front of you. Turning back to look at him, instead you see the reassuring smile he’s placed on his face. You’ve gone through this song and dance for what seems like forever, it’s what made him such a great friend. You voice a concern, and you know what he’s always going to say next. That’s what you love about Kyle, he’s predictable, stable. He’s going to say, “Don’t worry,” next.

He places a hand on top of yours on the table, “Don’t worry love”, his thumb gently caressing your skin. 

After, he reassures you. Tells you it’s not your fault if you find yourself in conflict against someone. Provides advice on what you should decide or do next. Gives you compliments you don’t bother disputing anymore. Always, always on your side, no matter what. You think if you killed someone, accidentally or not, he would say that they probably deserved it. And offer to dump the body for you. 

“You’ll have that one day,” he says with such conviction, “Anyone would be so incredibly lucky to have you”.

His gaze feels intense and invasive during these moments. As if he’s been brainwashed and he’s trying to brainwash you too. You think that, to him, there is no conceivable reality or possibility in which you don’t find that kind of love. That anybody would actually be so incredibly lucky to have and hold you. The way archeologists hold artifacts so fragile, yet so full of mystery and wonder. How his hand still encompasses and caresses yours. 

Finally, you silently agree. A nod, a hug, a grasp of a hand. You don’t need to say anything for him to know that you listened, acknowledged, and agreed. Advice was asked to the devil, he responded. There’s no backing out of this deal now, or ever. 

Taking your hand back from his, and placing your palm on your cheek. Leaning your elbow on the table, you can feel the lingering heat from his hand. You look to Kyle, sigh, and smile. 

- - -

The door slams shut and your first instinct is to call Kyle. There’s pressure in your chest, you think it’s coming from your heart. It spreads from your chest to your throat, nose, and eyes. A dam about to burst. You can hardly breath, chocking on the sobs that break free from your mouth. Eyes welled shut in a poor attempt to stop the tears that are overflowing. You feel like a pathetic mess, and you want Kyle. 

With blurry vision, you reach for your phone and tap on Kyle’s contact number. First on your recent calls list. As it rings, you lie down on your couch, placing the phone on the cushion next to you. You want Kyle. You want him to take you by the hand and dance with you again.

Left foot forward.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was thick with static, but you could still hear his concern. 

You cried. Couldn’t manage to say any words. Just sobbed over the phone. 

Right foot sideways to the right.

“Don’t worry,” it’s instinct for him at this point. “I’m on my way.” 

Any amount of time could’ve passed, you wouldn’t have known. All you do know is that suddenly a warm familiar presence is felt on your back, rubbing comforting rows. You force yourself to peek at the source of solace that blessed you with their presence. It’s Kyle. Of course, it’s Kyle. 

“Hello, dove.” He greets you with a small smile that’s just devastating. 

That was the smile that told you that everything was going to be okay. Kyle’s here. He has it taken care of. Don’t worry. Don’t worry at all. 

“You lied,” is the whisper that escapes from your chapped lips. Dry as the dessert, you become aware of how thirsty you are. All the fluid having left your body in sad sad rivets.

“About what, love?” Furrowed are his brows anew. Why haven't they gotten stuck like that with how often he worries. About you. Only you. “I can’t help unless you ask for it, my darling, much as I want to”.

The floodgates fill once more behind your eyes. Pressure building up and up again as it once did before. Salty droplets flow again, “You said that I would have that kind of love, but he’s gone, Kyle. He left.”

He lifts you from your depressed slump of a position into his arms. Strong limbs that encompass your fragile delicate frame. Body weakened by heartbreak, grief, and loss. All too sudden and too soon. But he’s here. Kyle is here. And in his arms, you’re protected. Picking up the broken shards, piece by piece until whole once more. He always does. 

Burrowing into the comfort that his torso provides. Would carve a home in his chest if he allowed it. Unaware that you already have. Notes of citrus and pine enter your senses. Synapses start to slow, and you reach Nirvana. Heaven is in the arms of this man. 

With angelic tones he soothes, “Oh love, I’m so sorry this happened. He’s a right prick, yeah? Wouldn’t know a blessing if it hit him in the face. I told you before, anybody would be so lucky to have you. If he can’t see that, then he’s a blind cunt”. 

Left foot to right foot.

You wrap yourself around him, arms reaching towards his shoulder blades. Clinging to his body with yours. With your own arms covering his back, it's as if he has wings. He's flying at this moment. Fear of heights be damned.

- - -

“Kyle-”

Left foot forward.

“Don’t worry, love”

Right foot sideways to the right.

“Okay, Kyle”

Left foot to right foot.

- - -

His lap is surprisingly comfy to use as a head pillow. The TV plays a mystery movie. Kyle loves to try and solve them before the big reveal. You love Kyle. 

When did you start to love Kyle? 

When did you fall in love with him?

Loving Kyle didn’t feel gradual or sudden. It feels like you’ve always loved him. Why now at this moment were you realising it. Why didn’t you see it before? 

Kyle has been there right there in front of you for years. The heartache you could have saved yourself if you weren’t so caught up in your own life. The time and effort wasted on pathetic men who weren’t Kyle. Sweet, perfect, stable Kyle.

Kyle, who's probably not attracted to you at all. Kyle who’s been your best friend for the longest time. Kyle, who you’ve been a terrible friend to. And you say it to him so bluntly.

“I’ve been a terrible friend to you”. Staring at his face for what might be the last time. Memorizing his smile lines, strong nose, the mole above his lip. 

“What do you mean, darling?”, the statement doesn’t even phase him. His attention is still focused on the generic mystery film displayed on the TV.

“I mean, you’re always there when I need you. But I don’t do the same for you. You must resent me at least a little bit. I’ve been such a burden. I’m sorry.”

This stops him. He grabs the remote and hits pause. He’s set on you now. Firm hands gently grasp the sides of your face. Brown eyes that seem to draw you in like a blackhole. 

“You’re wrong. I don’t think you ever really understood how so very lucky people are, to have you in their lives. How lucky I am, to be in your life. See, darling, it’s quite the opposite. In fact, I need you to need me. Having you need me means, I get to be with you, be there for you. And there’s nothing more priceless than that”. 

Slowly sitting up, you turn to face him properly. “Be the luckiest man alive then, and have me”.

His lips are on your before you even know it. Heated hands once again grasping and angling your face to fit his. Like two pieces of a puzzle finally together. Years of yearning, longing, and love pouring into your very being. Fireworks ignite across your nervous system and your vessel is lit aflame. Kissing Kyle is swallowing a supernova.

But humans needs to breath, and so you pull apart, sharing heated breaths across one another’s lips. Foreheads pressed together, nose tips a needle width apart. The rest of your life ahead of you, with the luckiest man alive.

[sunarots]

BETTER THAN REVENGE! ━━━ tooru oikawa & rintarou suna

16. breakthrough ♡

Rin leans back against his car with a lit cigarette between his lips, an arm draped around your neck to keep you close. You anxiously keep your vape as close to your mouth as possible, taking a hit whenever you feel your anxiety rise. Atsumu paces back and forth in front of the two of you, stumbling into the way of pedestrians repeatedly. He has one airpod in, listening to the instrumentals you'd pieced together.

Rin pulls the cigarette away and blows the smoke over his shoulder before looking back to you. "We got you. Just like always. Okay, babe?"

Sighing, you nod your head and flash him a weak smile. "Yeah. Okay. We got this," you repeat under your breath, leaning further into him. "Thanks."

He shrugs his shoulders and goes to speak, stopping himself when he notices the approaching couple. Atsumu stops in his tracks, resting his hands on his hips before turning to the pair of you. "Well, if it ain't Charles and Camilla. Ya wearing yer revenge dress?"

You can't help but laugh at Atsumu's comment, shielding your smile with your free hand. You turn fully to face Oikawa and Emiko, stuffing your vape in the pocket of your jeans before grasping onto Rin's hand. "Hey!" You pray your fake smile says it all, gesturing to the cafe. "Ready?"

"Yes! Let's go!" Emiko tugs on Oikawa's hand and immediately leads the way inside.

Rin stubs out the cigarette on the roof of his car before flicking it into the bin, grimacing at the thought of what’s about to happen. You follow the others towards a table hidden around the corner, Emiko instantly excusing herself and Atsumu so they could get everyone's drinks. Rather, her blocking his path to the table so he had no choice but to follow her away.

You slip into the seat opposite Oikawa, Rin falling into place by your side once again. You lean back in your seat, clasping your hands together and resting them on the table. "So, how's the show? You like the script?"

Oikawa laughs awkwardly, running a hand through his hair and slumping back in his seat. "Yeah. It's interesting. Different."

"Not too different, though," you quickly point out, moving one of your hands to grab Rin's beneath the table. "For you, anyway. Emiko's a great actress. Really smiley and bubbly, but being able to play such a messed up role is impressive. Though, you are the expert."

Rin covers her mouth with his free hand, clearing his throat and adverting his gaze from Oikawa as he sinks lower into his seat.

"Oh, well... That is the job of an actor." He leans forward in his seat, running a hand down his face. "Um, how's the album coming?"

Rin smiles, straightening up. "Oh, it's great. We have one last song to record, and then it'll be out. Hopefully soon on streaming platforms."

You nod along, enjoying watching Oikawa's face contort with distress. He looks behind you and sighs in relief, practically jumping out of his chair to assist Emiko and Atsumu with the drinks.

"What're we talking about?" Emiko asks eagerly, accepting Oikawa's hand as he helps her sit.

"Our new album. We're recording the last song tonight, and then it'll be out for streaming soon. Next week, I hope," you explain, taking a prolonged sip from your cup. "Me and Rin are working on a duet. We can't quite place a chorus or bridge that pulls it together, but I'm on the verge of a breakthrough."

"Wow. It's amazing you can predict it." Emiko gapes, tucking her hair back behind her ears. "What brings it on?"

You shrug your shoulders, Atsumu speaking for you, "Oh, she can take inspiration from anything. Especially people. She could probably write a song about ya." He grins, lightly swatting your arm as if to ask did you hear that?

"I bet she could," Oikawa retorts, clearly intended to be internal. He clears his throat and straightens up. "So, will we make a start on this script? What questions do you have about the plot?"

You shake your head. "No, I think we have the plot. You and Emiko are having problems- sorry, I don't know your characters' names. Anyway, you have problems in the marriage, she goes to all lengths to keep you together and stop you from doing all these sleazy things. That's the gist of it, right?"

Oikawa nods along slowly, clenching his jaw. “Just about, yeah.”

Atsumu runs his fingers along his jaw and sighs heavily. “Y’know, I feel like that reminds me of something. Like it’s a film I’ve seen before…”

You start to laugh at his comment, amused by his efforts of making this as uncomfortable for the couple as possible. It’s clearly working, with the way Oikawa looks like he may explode. Before Rin has a chance to add on to his jests, you grab onto his wrist with wide eyes.

“Oh my god. Rin, the song.” You turn away from Oikawa with an eager smile, full focus on your partner. “I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending.”

Rin nods along as you hum the tune after, repeating your lyrics in his head. He gasps, snaps his fingers at Atsumu and looks between the two of you. “You say, I gave so many signs. I say, You never gave a warning sign.”

You clap your hands together, looking at Atsumu who’s started the voice recording before opening his notes app to write the lyrics you’ve both quoted. He nods his head, drops his phone to the table and beams at you. “We got it!”

“You’ve done jack shit,” Rin scoffs, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“We would forget if he didn’t do this,” you quickly point out, moving his hand back down to your lap and smiling over at the two sat opposite from you at the table. “I’m so sorry about that. If we didn’t do that now, we’d have forgotten it. Sometimes Atsumu comes in handy.”

“The hell do ya mean sometimes. I’m useful!”

You and Rin both fight back your smiles before exchanging a look. “Debatable.”

masterlist. previous | next

summary. as a world-famous singer, everyone knows everything about all of your relationships. namely, your renowned on-again/off-again relationship with one tooru oikawa. it’s hard not to when every song you write is about him. but no one truly knows all of the gory details of all your dirty breakups, except from the two of you. and after announcing in a drunken red-carpet interview that you never want to see his face again, everyone starts desperately searching for the truth behind your twisted relationship. and just when you think you can escape these rumours, in comes a job opportunity your band can’t turn down.

taglist (open!). @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @iaminyourfloors @rrosiitas @v3nusplanetofluv @draculauracullen @lollbecca @honeytwo @wakashudou @tojirin @makki0s @alexithemiyatic @aboutkiyoomi @hermaeusmorax @theepitomeofswag @qyoongi @esunarint @frootloopscos @kimigiri09 @sweetlyvibe @hhoneyhan @jlly1 @nizaii @mdmraz

[withloveilya]

short books recs (under 200 pages)

1. Sweet Bean Paste by Durian Sukegawa

This book follows Sentaro, who runs a dorayaki stall, and his friendship with Tokue, who makes killer sweet bean paste. It is a heart-warming and endearing story that brings you comfort. I love the friendship between Sentaro and Tokue, especially seeing how it develops. The ending feels a little rushed. I kind of wished it was longer. Kind of sad. I cried. 10/10 would read again.

2. Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi

The Funiculi Funicula cafe provides a time-traveling service, and the book, divided into four parts, retells different characters' experiences traveling in time. I always associate time-traveling with angst and regret, and this book has just that. I love how each part explores different relationship dynamics, so the time-traveling experience varies for each character. Very heart-warming, but very emotional as well. Cried a lot. It's a series but you don't have to read other books. But if you want more info on the cafe and the characters' backstory, then I highly recommend reading the other books.

3. Heaven by Mieko Kawakami

This book revolves around two students, who are victims of bullying. Due to their shared struggle, a friendship blossoms between them. The depiction of bullying and its impacts is raw and authentic, the story providing the perspectives of both the victims and the perpetrators. It was a rage-inducing but thought-provoking read.

4. The Travelling Cat Chronicles by Hiro Arikawa

This book follows Nana the cat as he embarks on a road-trip with his owner, Satoru. Now, cats are my absolute weakness. I love cats. I WOULD DIE FOR THEM. Which is why reading this book was hard and painful. The writing is witty, since it is written from the perspective of a cat. The plot itself is kind of predictable, but it doesn't make it any less painful. Tldr; Shredded my heart into pieces. Cried so hard, I couldn't breathe.

5. Almond by Won-Pyung Sohn

The story follows the main character, Yunjae, who suffers from a rare condition called Alexithymia that essentially makes him unable to feel emotions. Due to that, he couldn't understand social cues so people shun him. The development of the story centers on the people Yunjae are going to meet, and how his relationship with these people develops. The ending felt a little anticlimactic, but I loved it nonetheless.

6. Eartheater by Dolores Reyes

The unnamed protagonist can locate missing people and find out their fate by eating dirt, so people seek her to know the fate of their missing loved ones. It was definitely an interesting read, with elements of magical realism in relation to the protagonist's ability. It is also an intriguing depiction of femicide, a reflection of a system that continuously fails women. I felt rage for the women failed by the system and the sufferings they had to endure at the hands of hateful men.

7. A House is a Body by Shruti Swamy

This book is a collection of short stories, which is a raw and authentic depiction of what it is like being human. I enjoyed certain stories, while some left me utterly confused. The narratives are enticing and poetic, so despite some stories not hitting that hard, I enjoyed the writing.

8. The Vegetarian by Han Kang

After having a bizarre dream, Yeong-Hye declares that she is turning vegetarian, and this sudden change concerned her family. I made the mistake of thinking that this book is merely a depiction of what it's like to be a vegetarian. HELL NO. It utterly deviates from my expectation. I could only describe the book as bizarre and spooky, in an unconventional way. It depicts the complexity of the human mind when the contraint of societal expectations is disregarded.

[roosterbus]

🎶💯🔺🐈🤔 HIT ME WITH PEIPERS

🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often?

Going to be really predictable (to anyone who knows Peiper) and say jazz LMFAO, specifically cool jazz and jazz noir. They like very, hm, slow and subdued music i would say, with not a whole lot of varied sounds. But they're partial to music that starts off simple, and slowly and subtly grows more complex (which is a reference to a writing style the actual author used in his poetry). That and I just generally associate them with "darker" and more ominous sounding music.

During the course of their story they also start warming up to piano music especially. 🙂‍↕️

I don't think they listen to music very often especially as background noise because it tends to be very distracting to them, what with the auditory hallucinations. I deffo think they used to listen to music more often in the past, when they frequented various clubs and cafes back in K Corp.

💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

They tend to dream a lot about things that bother them in daily life, but that they do not acknowledge. This includes (but is not limited to) stress dreams. These get especially bad during the final three Cantos (turning into straight up night terrors), and then again post-LCEFT.

Not a great cook; bad habit from their youth that they're too busy nowadays to break. They tend to eat out a lot and buy a lot of pre-made meals.

Very big on fashion. They take a lot of pride in their public image, which, ofc, includes knowing how to dress for the occasion. They also love dressing other people up/giving fashion advice.

🔺 RED TRIANGLE POINTED UP — does your oc know how to use any weapons?

Not in the traditional sense - they never got any official combat training, but they do instinctively know how to use EGO weapons just because of the way they work.

🐈 CAT — does your oc prefer a wide circle of friends or a few close friends?

A wide circle! It lets them satisfy that need for companionship somewhat without getting too close to anyone in particular. I feel like they're good at meeting new people and getting acquaintanced, but not so much at building strong relationships. And they like being relied upon by many people, since it makes them feel important.

🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms?

Very particular about body language, especially their arms and hands. If they're not fully confident in any given situation, they keep their hands out of sight, hiding them in their pockets or folding their arms. They also tend to wear gloves as a "fashion statement" in new environments until they get more acquaintanced with the people there. The same goes for their shades, they only take them off if they're about to get vulnerable.

Once they get comfortable, I imagine they gesture a lot with their hands when they speak. Especially when they get very emotional or passionate about a subject.

[forgottenfourr]

i saw you in a dream - university smau

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

chapter fourteen - impossible

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w/c: 1349

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a/n: i am still very sick (yes again) but the people must be updated!! while bedridden i have been rewatching kingdom: legendary war and i always forget how insane it is but i love it sm. i always act like i'm watching it for the first time when i rewatch it. but watching 3 groups that i absolutely love (skz, tbz, & ateez) compete against each other is so </3

chapter is not proofread because i am too exhausted too tbh

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

yn's pov:

as you predicted, the cafe was agonizingly slow today. plus the anxiety of meeting with chan during your shift today was not helping the hours go by any faster.

it's about 2:30 when he walks into the cafe, his normal bright and full smile plastered on his face like always. maybe this chat won't be as shitty as you thought.

"hey!" he greets, voice as joyful as it always is.

your anxiety subsides slightly, "hi! do you want anything to drink? on the house." you try to match his attitude but fail.

"nah i don't really drink coffee. i'll just go sit and you can meet me there whenever you're free, yeah?" he says while gesturing to the booths that are just a few hundred feet away from you two.

"i can go on break now! min is here so he knows about you coming here to talk." like on cue, minho appears behind you, placing his hand on your shoulder to make you aware of his presence.

"oh my god minho! hey!" chan says somehow more cheerful than his previous words.

"hey, chris, how are you?" minho quickly starts a conversation with chan like they are lifelong friends.

"i'm good! busy with senior year stuff but overall everything is alright. how are you?" you can hear the genuine response and question in chan's voice. it makes you wonder if he is always an open book like this for everyone.

"meh, senior year. pretty exhausting shit. plus being friends with this dumb ass," he says while pinching your side making you shriek away at his touch.

"DICK HEAD" you retort back to minho whilst shoving him. causing both of the boys to laugh.

you groan at the two and how immature they are. "min i'm going on break," you state. not giving him the option to say no or ask you to wait a few more minutes.

"okay, don't miss me too much!" minho calls out sarcastically as you and chan make your way to a nearby table. his comment making you turn around and flip him off which resorts to him laughing at you again in hysterics.

you and chan take a seat across each other. if anyone were to not know the context of what is going on right now you're sure they would think you guys were on a date.

"it's nice to see minho so comfortable with you," chan begins, ultimately dragging out the conversation you so desperately just wanted to be over.

you nod your head at his words, a slight smile on your face.

"i don't mean to sound rude but, can we just get to the point? what did you want to talk to me about?" you feel awful for skipping the small talk and going right to business but you felt as if you couldn't wait another minute. your anxiety growing in you more and more as each second passed on.

chan's face seems to falter slightly and he repositions himself in his chair. it is very evident that he is now uncomfortable.

"yeah uhm," chan pauses for a moment, trying to find the right words that wouldn't automatically accuse you. "don't take this the wrong way but," he takes a deep breath, "did you actually write the guitar part for your song?"

a haste breath falls past your lips at his question.

"what?" of course you did. you came up with it yourself. you weren't a piece of shit. you would never steal another's work.

"of course i did, why are you asking?" the genuine annoyance and hurt so audible in your tone.

"i am not accusing you of anything!" his statement coming out very quick and apologetically. "it's just. i have a friend who i worked with a few months ago. and he has a guitar part in his song that sounds identical to yours. and it could be a coincidence! but it seems very unlikely?" all his words have a ping of uncertainty to them.

"no, i swear i wrote it myself i-" a sudden thought making you cut off your own words.

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

you remember exactly where you first heard the guitar melody. you had finally fallen asleep after nearly 3 days of being awake. you remember returning to your dream world, immediately greeted by the mystery boy. it felt like it always did, serene and peaceful. but it was different that day. the boy spoke to you.

"hey, do you know how to play the guitar?" he said with a warm smile on his face. the one you grew so fond of.

you laugh slightly, "i can but i am awful at it."

"would you like to be a little less awful at it? i can teach you some stuff," he said as he pulled out a guitar from seemingly nowhere

you didn't know what you expected his voice to sound like but it was certainly 10x better than anything your mind could've made up.

your cheeks blushed at his offer, "i'd love to." you replied, your acceptance making the tip of his ears red.

you guys spent the rest of your time together sitting together and playing songs for each other. though, most of the time it was him playing for you and you watching him with awe. he taught you different chords and melodies, helping you with each note as you struggled through.

there was one melody though. one that stuck with you. that bounced through your head at any given moment. one you found yourself humming at any given moment. it was like it was planted in your brain and you had completely fallen in love with the simplicity of it. the melody being so beautiful and perfect no matter the key or pace.

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

your face grew pale at the sudden realization. you had only heard it once in your life. and that being from your dream boy. who is fake. who your subconscious came up with. right?

because it wouldn't make sense if the boy from your dreams actually existed. it isn't possible. and if it was, the only thing about the boy that would be the same is his appearance. everything else about him your mind created.

so there is absolutely no way he also just so happens to know the guitar melody that he taught you in your dream which you then thought was just something you came up with yourself because AGAIN it happened IN YOUR DREAMS.

there was no way that is possible. even if a teeny tiny bit of you wanted it to be possible, there is no way. it's like scientifically impossible. sharing your dreams with someone? let alone someone you don't even know?

it's too much to process. let alone in front of chan who probably thinks you're having a mental breakdown or going absolutely fucking insane right in front of him. which you kind of are!

"uh, yn?" chan tries to get your attention back to him quietly but him calling your name just makes you all too aware of what is happening right now.

you quickly stand up and you continue to revert your gaze from him. "i uh, i have to go." you quickly say, words barely audible through your mumble.

you don't give him a second to think before you're racing out the cafe's front door and run home. leaving chan there unsure of what just happened.

it's too much to think about. you just need to be away from everyone right now. minho will be fine at the cafe by himself. he'll be pissed but he'll forgive you. you'll make it up to him later. right now you just need to be alone to process everything. the possibility that somehow the boy you have been spending time with in your dreams for the past 7 months might be real and also might have been having the same dreams you have.

it's too much. but a part of you is hoping that he does exist and remembers everything you two did together. it's nearly impossible but one can hope, right?

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

<<<prev masterlist next>>>

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tag list [open]

@thisisnotjacinta @ddextra @puppymplushie @what-the-y2k @strawberry-dreamland @veryjeongintxtkid @rag-iii @amara-mars @lolcarlaaa @stilesks @amara-mars @hello-2-u-from-me @marcillfll @beaann @everglowdaisies @funkygoose @yjeonginlvr @tfshouldidohere

red means it won't let me tag you (check your privacy settings)

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

[aoishiitake]

Before Us - Kanade x Mafuyu

Chapter 5: Are...?

note: Copy and pasting this from my wattpad. This was the first fanfiction I ever wrote (started 2022 or so). I know it's bad, you do not need to remind me. I'm posting this here because I want my writing backed up on as many platforms as possible. I write better now, I can assure you of that. Everything in brackets and bold is me commenting on my own shit writing lol. Thanks for reading if you do <3

divider's from this post/person

Kanade

A few weeks have passed since that uh... yeah you know what I mean! I grabbed my sweats and headed out. Today Ena and Mizuki decided to have some coffee all together, again. I walked on the street making sure I didn't step on any cracks on the floor. How would I talk to Mafuyu after that talk we had on nightcord? This feeling makes my stomach stir. Mafuyu did nothing wrong, and if she does love someone else, fuck it, she's happier with them probably. Plus, it's not like she would leave our friend/music group for that, right? I just ca- and bam, I had walked into a tree, again. I stopped focusing on that and started focusing on getting to that cafe, then bit later, I arrived late as usual.

"hey guys" I mumbled.

"aha there you are K!" Ena exclaimed. "we were waiting for you, ready to order?"

"oh uhm yeah sure!" I added.

We all ordered something off the menu, Ena and Mizuki obviously choosing the most detailed things while Mafuyu and I took something simple. Wait Mafuyu! I almost forgot, was she ok? I glanced at her, noticing some bandages on her arms. Did someone hurt her? Did she have an accident? Suddenly I was stuck my head trying to figure it out. What if she... no... would she?

"Earth to Kanade? Earth to Kanade?" I faintly heard.

"huh what?!" I answered.

"damn Kanade are you ok? You seem to be zoning out more than usual." Mizuki asked concerned.

"uh no no I'm doing fine" I lied. I couldn't tell them that I was thinking about the love of my life.

"Sure.." Ena stared at me.

"Well anyways, me and Ena wanted to...announce something" Mizuki peeped. "Ena and I are..."

"Are..?" Mafuyu questioned.

"officially dating!" Ena announced.

"Hey I was gonna say it!" Mizuki complained.

"You were too slow!" Ena hissed.

"Guys guys calm down, that's great!" I cheered. "When did you guys start dating?"

"After that chat on nightcord we both chatted privately and that somehow lead to us going out the next day" Mizuki explained. 

"Then we became tipsy and we kinda just blurted out all our secrets." Ena muttered.

"Haha that makes sense" Mafuyu laughed.

"AHEM" Mizuki said

"Anyways let's get to the point" Ena added to make sure Mizuki didn't murder anyone. "Mizuki and I wanna tell the others from the other sekais about it." Ena exclaimed.

"So we are gonna throw a huge sleepover party in the school sekai since the other sekais are either too loud or don't have much to do" Mizuki added. "And yes I have already texted Saki about it, don't worry Ena"

"Phew that's a relief" Ena exhaled.

"But wait, why did you tell us then?" Mafuyu asked.

"Come on guys, y'all are our girls! Of course we would tell you first." Mizuki cheered.

"Also HOW DID YOU GUYS GET TIPSY?!?!?" I shouted.

"Kanade SHHHH, let's not worry about that now..." Ena replied.

And just like that, Mizuki and Ena were together. We (mostly Ena and Mizuki) planned the party, there was gonna be boardgames, video games and more. Of course, they wanted to have one of those cheesy games like spin the bottle and 7 minutes in heave- wait SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN?!?!? 

"Yeah what about it K? You scared?" Ena smirked.

"I am not scared!" I hissed. "Plus I don't even like anyone!"

It was at that moment that Ena and Mizuki looked at me with the 'don't fuck with us' stare and I immediately changed my behaviour. I swear those idiots are scary sometimes... 

In the end we just tried to predict who would take whom in the closet for 7 minutes in heaven. Mizuki predicted that Rui would take Tsukasa (trust me I don't know why either). Ena predicted that Emu would take her plush with her as a joke which led to Mizuki and Ena betting on it. Mafuyu said that she thinks Minori would take Haruka and I... honestly don't know. I 100% think that Ena and Mizuki are gonna stay more than 7 minutes in the closet though.

After an hour and a half of planning, we had a 'normal' conversation. Just talking about normal things. But then I realised that this was my chance to ask Mafuyu what happened to her arms, so I asked her

Mafuyu

"Hey Mafuyu, not to be nosy but, what happened to your arm?" Kanade asked concerned.

I snapped back to reality, shit, how was I going to tell her? I mean I kind of did that BECAUSE OF HER...

"Oh uhmm, well" I cut myself off as I felt her holding my arm and examining it. As she held and inspected it I felt butterflies in my chest. Her just holding me gave me a sense of comfort, it was nice.

"So what happened?" Mizuki asked with a worried face.

"I... I'd rather not say." I mumbled.

"Hey Mafuyu, you aren't hurting yourself right?" Kanade questioned as her eyes got bigger.

"I..." 

And boom, the tears started to come out. Just a little nudge can make me pop. I feel so stupid. Ena immediately stood up and wrapped her arms around me. Mizuki gave me pats on the shoulder and Kanade looked like she was about to cry as well. I wonder why...

"I'm sorry guys I didn't want to make your announcement turn into my shitty problems" I cried.

"No Mafuyu it was my fault, I should have asked you in a more appropriate time" Kanade exclaimed. "But Mafuyu, if you don't wanna tell us why today, we'll wait, we'll wait 3 years if we have to."

"Exactly! We are here for you Yuki." Mizuki agreed. A few seconds later Ena nodded still comforting me.

Just Kanade saying that made my heart flutter, my face was suddenly very hot and Ena thought I also had a fever and got worried. I assured her that I was fine. They tried to lift my spirits and we all started laughing, these people really know me huh. I thanked them for the support and congratulated the new pair once again. Now it was time to wait for the day of the party to come.

[jjoongsdiamond]

In the Quiet of the Cafe☕️

Chapter Seven - The Weight of Maybe

(Present—Hana’s POV)

The rhythm of her days had always been steady.

Mornings with Areum. Coffee and crumbs. Wiping sticky fingers. Afternoons at the café. Laughter, music, and memories stacked behind the counter like unpaid tabs. Evenings of bath time, bedtime, lullabies sung in a voice that trembled more often than it didn’t.

It was a quiet, predictable life. And she’d fought hard for that peace.

But now, he was back — and everything trembled again.

Hongjoong had visited three times that week.

Once with a stuffed dinosaur. Once with a small ukelele he promised to teach Areum to play. And once with nothing at all — just his presence, and a question in his eyes every time he looked at Hana.

She knew what he was asking without words.

Is there still room in your life for me?

She didn’t have an answer.

Because she didn’t trust herself to say the wrong thing again.

Seeing Hongjoong in front of her after so many years of watching him on TV, or watching Ateez music videos, it brought back all the feelings she thought she had tucked far away.

The intensity of their relationship wasn’t simply a high school romance—if Hongjoong hadn’t had dreams that took him away from her, they’d probably have been end game.

But he did leave, and long distance was never an option, especially when he was part of the K-pop industry. There were contracts, NDAs, and too many secrets.

And Areum would have been involved in that; she would have been at risk—she still is.

But that didn’t stop Hana from crying, hidden away in the bathroom, when Hongjoong left that day—recalling their closeness, their bond back then. She missed it.

And she knew she needed to eventually tell Areum that Hongjoong was more than the “nice music man who was Hana’s friend”. He was her father, and she deserved to know.

---

She sat with Minseok that night on the roof of her apartment, long after Areum had been tucked into bed.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she said, the words slipping out like water.

Minseok raised a brow. “You’re letting Areum know her father. That’s a pretty damn good start.”

She picked at a loose thread on her sleeve. “It’s more than that now.”

His eyes softened. “You still love him.”

She didn’t reply. She hadn’t admitted it out loud, but he was right. The moment she saw Hongjoong again all the feelings came flying back. She loved him again—she had never stopped.

“You never really stopped,” Minseok adding, confirming her thoughts. “You just buried it under everything else.”

“I had to,” Hana whispered. “I had to stop waiting for him. I had to raise her on my own. I had let go of the life we planned.”

Before Areum—before he left—she had planned to eventually join him in Seoul. The hope of one day maybe joining him in songwriting, a shared passion of theirs, once he had debuted, once everything had settled.

Minseok didn’t push. He never did.

“You think he wants it back?” she asked after a while. “That version of us?”

“I think he wants whatever version of you still exists, I think he feels exactly the same as you. The moment he saw you, the feelings come straight back to him too,” he said. “And I think he wants Areum to be part of his world—not just a secret he visits on Sundays.”

---

The next morning, Hana found herself at the piano in the back of the café.

It hadn’t been touched in years. Her grandmother’s old upright—slightly out of tune, but still warm beneath her fingers. The piano was something Hana’s grandfather would play to keep customers entertained, a young Hana would sit next to him, swaying to the music, in complete awe of the sound coming from a few keys.

Her grandfather had taught her how to play, and when he passed away, she stayed far away from the piano — the only thing connecting her to him.

But when Hongjoong had come into her life, she started playing again — with him next to her, writing music — together.

Areum was colouring at the corner table. Hongjoong was sitting opposite her, helping her sound out syllables on a picture card.

Hana watched them for a long time smiling before pressing down a key.

C. Then A. Then G.

Hongjoong looked up, startled. She hadn’t played in years — not in front of him.

But she held his gaze, hands still on the keys, as she played a piece they had written together when they both dreamed of music.

Hongjoong smiled softly, memories flooding back as he watched her play expertly. Areum clapped happily, instantly distracted from her colouring as she turned to watch her mother play.

And in that moment, when she finished the piece, Hana let the silence say what she couldn’t.

Maybe.

---

Later that night, as she tucked Areum into bed, her daughter whispered:

“Is the music man gonna stay?”

Hana’s voice caught in her throat. “Do you want him to?”

Areum nodded. “He makes the world feel… bigger.”

Hana leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Then we’ll make room.”

Hana went into her bedroom and picked up her phone, her finger hovering over his name as she bit her lip.

She had decided this may be the right time — Hongjoong was leaving soon.

When he answered, he sounded relaxed, but tired.

“Hey,”

“Hey,” she repeated. There was a moment of comfortable silence between them before either spoke up.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She hummed in affirmation, “Joong, I’m thinking of telling Areum.”

“Telling her what?”

She laid back against the headboard of her bed, trying to calm her thumping heart. “The truth. That you aren’t just my friend. That you are her father.”

Hana heard Hongjoong inhale, and shuffle on his end. “Really?”

She nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. This was big — whenever Areum asked about her father, Hana would tell her that he was working far away, and the child would never probe further. But it was obvious to Hana that she always wanted to meet her father — other kids at her school had their fathers, and she didn’t.

“I want her to know the real you, the you I know,” she admitted. “I want her to call you dad; I want you to feel the same as I do when she looks at me in adoration. You deserve it too.”

Hana didn’t need to see, the sound of his voice made evident he was smiling. “I would be so happy for her to call me dad. Thank you, Hana.”

“Please don’t thank me, you deserve this, Joong. I’m… so sorry.”

A moment passed, “for what?”

“For not telling you, for you finding out about your daughter by chance. I regret my choice to not tell you every day,” Hana swallowed the tears down, eyes stinging, years of emotion threatening to spill.

Hongjoong, as he always had done, responded calmly. Ever the peacekeeper, ever the rational person he was known to be. “You don’t need to apologise Hana; I can see in your eyes every time I see you how sorry you are. I’ve long forgiven you. But I’m here now, and so is Areum. I’m happy I get this now, and I’ve come to terms with that.”

She tried to contain the sob, but a stray tear fell.

“I’m sorry for not staying in contact. Life had been… hectic. Training and debuting were intense. I didn’t want to let you down, and I knew you’d worry if you heard me so dejected at times. It’s my dream, but I also left a part of that dream behind.” Hongjoong confessed, voice soft.

“Th-thank you,” Hana smiled sadly, “I’m so glad you accidentally walked into the café.”

He huffed a laugh, “habit, I suppose.”

“Well, I’m glad your habits are still there,” she giggled. “Joong, let’s tell her tomorrow—together.”

“As long as you are happy for me to be there.”

“A hundred percent positive.”

“Tomorrow it is then.”

Tomorrow, Hongjoong won’t be a friend anymore, he’ll finally be a father.

[e-b-reads]

Books of the Summer: 2024 (June-Aug)

Back into the routine: of creating Books of the Month posts about halfway into the following month. Hey, I'm caught up now, though! As always, it was fun to look back at what I read this summer now that my routine and schedule and focus have shifted so fully (out of summer camp mode). Here are my books of the summer!

Marple: Twelve New Mysteries (various female authors): This was a fun read: short stories by current mystery authors, featuring Christie's Miss Marple. I enjoyed that several of the authors chose to write about situations dealing with things like race in a way that Christie probably couldn't have, with the assumption that Miss Marple (as, occasionally, opposed to her creator) would be capable of being logically open-minded and kind.

The Invisible Library (Genevieve Cogman): I reblogged a post recently with some notes suggesting that this is a series that some people really don't like? (Possibly because they didn't feel like it lived up to the neat premise - adventures in a series of universes with varying levels of magic connected by a reality-bending library.) So, you know, don't just take my work for it, check with other readers you trust. But I really enjoyed this book (and sequels) as something engaging and fast-paced to read during my busy season. Large twists were sometimes predictable, but the smaller details of how characters would extricate themselves from situations weren't, so it kept me reading! I also liked the relationship between three of the main characters (though was disappointed not to end up with a poly threesome by the end. Oh, well).

Becoming (Michelle Obama): And now for something completely different: I've had this book for a while but only finally read it this summer (slowly, in between various mysteries). I really enjoyed it; it painted a really sympathetic and detailed picture of her (and her husband's) priorities in terms of both political ideals and personal family life, and the ways they have tried to balance those. Also was reassuring to read a book about hope as a political force in the current U.S. political climate (or to be more precise: I read it before Biden dropped out, so during that climate especially).

The Body in the Attic (Judi Lynn): I tried various cozy mystery series this summer, and I am shouting this one out not because of the mystery plots (which were fine), but because of the cozy part. Jazzi Zanders works with her cousin and a friend (swiftly her boyfriend and then her husband) flipping houses. Only they keep finding bodies, and after the first case, their new detective friend keeps asking her to tag along and help him solved the mysteries. (I also enjoyed that aspect; instead of this being a series where the amateur is getting in the way going "let me help!" the 60-something detective [not a love interest] keeps being like "hey, want to help?" and Jazzi goes along reluctantly.) What I really liked is that the mysteries are almost an excuse the author to write the cozy mundane details of Jazzi's life: shopping with her man, dinner with family, the work they do on the houses. Not a series for when you're looking for drama, but a nice one for escapism.

Dishonorable mention:

Live and Let Chai (Seaside Cafe mystery series; Bree Baker): Haven't done this before but I need to call this (cozy mystery again) series out! To be fair, I did read all seven books in it, so it's not like it was so bad I stopped reading. But part of why I kept reading was because I thought maybe the main character was going to learn. In the first few books, she stumbles on a body, insists on trying to solve the mystery despite the handsome broody detective character telling her to stay out of it, and then gets kidnapped or otherwise harmed by the murderer, which does at least do the service of letting the handsome detective find and arrest them. This wouldn't be so bad, except that as the books go on, she begins to insist she needs to help investigate, because she is so good at it. Lady, you keep getting the murderer wrong! She does snoop and gather clues, but she doesn't usually put them together properly until the actual murderer is trying to murder her, at which point she figures out her mistakes (too late!). When this happened yet again in book 6, I finally realized she wasn't going to learn, but at that point I went ahead and read book 7 partly to make sure and partly to read the resolution of the tortuous, twisty romance between her and the detective. Anyway, this isn't even to mention the issues I have with a modern white character super proud of her southern heritage and ancestors without even a consideration for any bad things those ancestors might have done? But that's another post all its own.

[circusgoth-dotcom]

Pure & Renowned (Pt. 1)

Ship: Sinclair Bryant x Corey Kennan

Word Count: 816

Summary: Sinclair meets Corey a year after divorcing his wife, the first person to re-instill a feeling of hope in him after the horrors of his past relationship. CWs for food mentions. Part one of two.

Tag List: @canongf @futurewife

It had been a year since Sinclair Bryant had divorced his wife and attempted to distance himself from the horrible things that had gone on behind his back. Disgusted and heartbroken, he knew it would take a long time before he could trust a romantic relationship again. Then he met Corey Kennan and rediscovered a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time: Hope.

They had run into each other at Sinclair’s favourite cafe, just across the street from his office job. He sat at his usual place beside the restaurant’s floor-to-ceiling windows, and while he usually enjoyed catching up on reading while he ate his breakfast, he couldn’t help but keep stealing glances at another customer across the room. This happened to be Corey, slightly sweaty, wearing a paint-stained button-down smock and loose-fitting, psychedelically patterned pants. He had barely touched his meal, instead running his fingers through his short, dark hair and examining a notepad on the table through his smudged glasses, resting halfway down his button nose. He sat with one leg tucked underneath him and the other steadily swinging back and forth, the toe of his sandal occasionally scuffing against the hardwood floor.

Too curious to let the stranger leave without saying anything, Sinclair picked up his coffee mug and approached. “I’m sorry to intrude, but I couldn’t help but notice you from across the cafe… are you a painter?” He asked, swirling his coffee around absently.

Corey looked up, surprised, then looked down at his outfit, letting out a light and embarrassed sound. “Oh, yes, I-I look a fright, don’t I? I’m… an artist. I wouldn’t confine it to just painting. I couldn’t. I mean, just look at this.” They picked up the notepad and handed it to Sinclair. Internally, they asked themself why they didn’t just answer the stranger in a straightforward manner and leave it at that. Corey had just handed him an unfinished poem he was working on.

Excited, Sinclair set his mug down on Corey’s table and began to read. “May I sit…?”

“Uhm, sure, go ahead!” Corey quickly shuffled his plates around to make room for Sinclair to sit comfortably opposite him, then busied himself by popping some grapes into his mouth. Anxiously, he watched Sinclair’s eyes flit back and forth down the page. Eventually, the notepad was set down, revealing a bright expression on the man’s face.

“This is brilliant, you have such a-a visual way with words…! I’m Sinclair.” He offered his hand across the table. Corey shook it, swallowing his last grape quickly.

“Corey Kennan. A-and thank you.” He couldn’t help but blush. What was this handsome, well-dressed man doing complimenting his writing when he had gone out looking like he did? “It’s not finished…”

“Could I read it when it is?”

Corey’s blush deepened as he cleared his throat. “Maybe. If we cross paths again.”

“I’m here every Saturday morning. Well, at least when the weather permits.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He smiled shyly. “It was nice of you to intrude, Sinclair. I just moved here a month ago, I still don’t know very many people… much less people who show your level of kindness.”

Sinclair’s brow furrowed at this. “Ah, that’s just how city folk are, I’m afraid.”

“But not you.”

“Oh, I don’t live out here, I live on a country estate, surrounded by all the eccentric sorts.” He smiled. “I think you’d like it, simply judging by this first meeting.”

Corey leaned forward curiously, resting his chin in his palm. “What kind of eccentric work do you do, then, in your pressed suit and tie?”

“Stock Analyst. I predict what’s going to happen to people’s money, it’s really quite thrilling, and lucrative of course, even when you’re wrong. But I’m never wrong.”

Corey immediately fell back in his chair, still smiling and shaking his head. “That’s not eccentric at all… I knew you were just another businessman.”

“You don’t think the stock market is exciting?”

“I’m not good with numbers. In fact, I’m not even sure I’ll be able to afford this meal.” His smile faltered slightly and a soft sigh escaped him as he poked at his toast and eggs. They were getting cold.

“I’ll pay for it.”

“What??”

“I’ll pay for your breakfast, I insist. But on one condition; promise me we’ll meet like this again. It only has to be once if you like but I like what I’m learning about you, and you said it yourself, you don’t know many people, what’s one new acquaintance? Will you meet with me again?”

Corey considered this, taking in all of the man sitting across from him. His heart skipped a beat. “Okay, Sinclair.”

“Wonderful.”

Somehow, even if he didn’t quite know what that initial meeting would lead to, Sinclair knew in that moment that Corey had the potential to become very special to him. Very special indeed.

[sillyneptune5754]

I just got the newest book in the Death-Cast series and I absolutely love it even though I’m only a few chapters in but I also wanna make and write my own character in this universe so I’ll put whatever I manage to write here:

April 25, 2018

Georgie Laverne

9:30 AM (Eastern Standard Time)

Death-Cast didn’t call me because I’m not dying today but I’ve sure been preparing for it. I started writing letters to my loved ones shortly before the premiere and have them all saved in my laptop. Honestly, I could write full books for most of these people but I managed to minimize the length of the letters to about 2-3 pages each. On the day Death-Cast calls, I’ll print and mail them all out. I know preparing for my own death sounds depressing, and it is, but what else am I supposed to do? I can’t exactly predict when Death-Cast will call and I don’t want to leave everyone in my life with nothing. That would be selfish of me.

I don’t really know what I’ll do after I send all of the letters. I might just try to enjoy the day. New York City does have a lot to do but any one of those things could end up being how I die. I know isolating myself at home to try and avoid death wouldn’t work but I at least want some control over how I die. Is that too much to ask?

Anyway, I should stop thinking about death. I need to head to my creative writing class. It starts in half an hour, which gives me time to stop by my favorite cafe in all of Manhattan. It’s a small cafe that’s connected to a bookstore, so a lot of people go there to study or read. Their pastries and drinks are also better than some mainstream and trendy places. Their lavender matcha lattes are to die for! Well, not actually die, but you know what I mean.

Since it’s still early, the place is relatively empty when I walk in. There’s lofi music playing from the speakers and various plants on the windowsill soaking up the morning sunshine. Janet, the barista currently at the cash register, smiles when she sees me.

“Hi Georgie! Welcome back. Would you like your usual?” She asks.

“Yeah.” I nod.

I get the same thing every time I come here; a lavender matcha latte and a croissant. I prefer to keep things simple, mainly because there’s not a lot of things I actually like; Sensory issues and all that jazz. It’s safe to say my parents had a hard time feeding me. I bet they're glad I’m out of their hair.

I pay and move over to the side to wait even though I could’ve technically stayed by the register since there was no one else in line. It only takes five minutes for my breakfast to be made and brought out to me by Janet. I say a quick “Thank you,” before leaving. I still have some time before I have to be anywhere so I sit down at a bench to enjoy my food. Then again, the only real food I got was a croissant, so it didn’t take long for me to finish it.

I get to class three minutes early and sit down at my usual spot on the left side of the classroom. My lavender matcha latte is mostly empty at this point. I’m drinking the last of it as my friend, Vania, arrives and sits down next to me.

“Hey man.” She says, then gasps dramatically when she sees my empty cup. “You didn’t save any for me?!”

“Get your own.” I tease as I finish the last of my latte.

“I didn’t have time today!” Vania groans.

“Too bad.” I say.

Vania has a three hour chemistry lab after this class and the cafe is usually packed by the time she’s out. I only have this class for today since my psychology professor got sick and had to cancel — Don’t worry, he’s not dying — so I offered to buy her one later. She grins and accepts the offer just as our professor walks in and starts the lecture.

[doubleddenden]

7 days left til Pokemon day. My very generic predictions:

I feel like it's a pretty safe bet to say we're 99% getting ZA news at long last after an entire year of silence. That 1% remaining is either them ignoring it or just pulling a "join us at a *later date* for ZA info :)"

As for what would be included in said trailer:

The starters

The time period

A brief look at graphics

Tease of old megas

At least ONE new mega, even if a tease

Release date

That's bare minimum, not mentioning any new Pokemon or forms.

As for the rest of it, I feel like we're going to be relatively safe or boring, because all anyone is really expecting here is the generic slop and ZA info. Anything for Switch 2 will likely not be announced until either the Switch 2 direct in April (which they have done before for Nintendo Directs), or simply after then.

However comma, I think there will be at least 1 completely random surprise that blindsides everyone.

The generic slop, of course:

Unite gets a new Pokemon

Masters gets a new unit and gems

Go gets something (although I am predicting they might go a bit less hard on this due to the recent announcement of Niantic possibly being sold to a Saudi Arabian company, which could potentially impact how it continues going forward. Of course they won't touch upon it in the Presentation, probably, because nothing final has been said at the time of writing)

Cafe Remix

Sleep

Tcg pocket New pack

And of course, merch. Probably something insanely stupid and expensive no actual pokemon fan can afford, or probably something that's barely pokemon related

Oh, and nostalgia bait. This is a given

Oh, and outside the slop, I'd say that Dragonite anime or some other media, maybe Detective Pikachu movie 2 lol

As for anything of a surprise... it probably will NOT be anything related to Unova or Gen 10. Idk why people suddenly think we're going to get either this year when we currently only know that ZA exists. Gen 10 probably will not be announced until Feb 2026 at the earliest for the 30th anniversary, and be a Switch 2 Title for November of that year. Unova probably won't even be touched until... 2028 to 2029 at the earliest, I'd bet, and in fact will probably start being muffled going forward. All of this to say that ZA is the main project this year, and to announce anything more as a mainline title after everyone and their grandmother praised GF for "taking their time" last year (which let's be honest, it's still a 3 year cycle since Legends Arceus) would be hypocritical.

However, side games are not off the table. This includes anything developed by Pokemon Works, other studios contracted by TPC, OR Game Freak (Pokemon Quest was a thing, remember?). Ports aren't excluded either, but honestly I think they'll save the Gameboy stuff until next year. Now, ya Boi tm has been hoping, praying, and crying for Orre ports, but if they were going to do it, last year would have been the time to do so.

So... this new "surprise" element... I'm gonna say it's a small port. Something like Trozei, Picross, or Pokemon Channel.

"What about mystery dungeon?" I hear you. I feel like they want ZA to be the big spotlight, and PMD is really the only kind of side game that gets anywhere near as much hype as the mainline games imo. I think it will be silent on that front.

Anything else? Perhaps a new ip, but I feel that if they do anything for that, it'll be Switch 2. Maybe a small teaser of it, but nothing outright announced.

And you may wonder why this is relatively tame or generic, and it's mainly just that there's really only a handful of things that could be announced due to the info in the Teraleaks on future projects, which was relatively small on anything new (at least on GFs end, which being fair the leaks cover a LOT of correspondence between them and others like the anime, movies, etc). There's really only 1 project from the files I think could potentially be announced this year, but again, I think it'll wait for the Switch 2 and be a side game at best.

Other than all of this... music video, I guess? Probably Vocaloid.

[anxiouslyfred]

Discovering Red Pandas

Summary: How Remy found the red panda cafe in the imagination, and how Roman some indeterminate amount of time later found out about anxcietmusleep

Author's note: I did not want to write today, but I said I would for each day of July so meh. This is part of the Vampiceit au I have with @lostcephalopods (formerly loveceit) I swear there's more of it than I could find searching my blog today but tired brain is not digging for it.

My Idea note for today: Vampiceit - How did Remy discover the red panda cafe? What happened when Roman did? Do any of his datemates have their own unique date locations?

/\/\

Of the people who spent the most time in the imagination, Remy was probably the one to understand it best and that was still very little. If he tried to explain it, the sides often tried to correct them that they’d asked about the imagination not Remus.

Logan especially had once grown very frustrated over it, even though Roman agreed. The imagination isn’t predictable and often forms places or characters completely randomly.

For Roman and Remus, it wasn’t as unpredictable because they had some measure of control over it the other sides would struggle to manage, but that never meant they knew everything that happened within. They’d often be surprised by a new area or adventure to go on and half of Remus’s exclamations could be copied from occurrences within.

Remy didn’t get, or want, to control the imagination, but often found himself stuck there while Thomas slept or daydreamed. He could focus on the dreams of individual sides if he wanted, or be made to if they were especially loud or worried, but many nights were spent wandering Thomas’s dreams through the imagination.

It was a night like that that Remy found his cafe. He’d later learn about a planned trip to the zoo but right then he just saw the little red pandas climbing along branches and the tables scattered around.

That week had been one of disturbed nights for Remy. Janus was concerned over Virgil’s continuing love of vampires again, and Roman had been in a state of bouncing between ideas. The only thing going for Remy actually resting was that Remus hadn’t started causing any more chaos than the usual low amount.

Having coffee surrounded by the cute creatures seemed at least peaceful, if not somewhere he might just drift of to sleep themself.

/\/\

“When did we get a cat cafe?” Roman’s voice woke Remy, realising he was curled into a sofa still in the red panda area and that Thomas, along with all the sides, was awake now.

They sat up, stretching and calling over their shoulder, “Might want to look at the cuddly creatures again, Princey. Also, you’re keeping this place for me. I refuse all arguments to say otherwise.”

“I don’t know what they are then, but fine, you can keep your teddy bears picnic area. At least until I get Logan here and he explains why this is unhealthy for them.” Roman heaved a sigh, looking Remy over again. “Why haven’t you been sleeping this week?”

“Disturbances in the force. Which will be small compared to what I’ll do if you bring Logan here for that purpose.” Remy snarked. “They’re red pandas and I’ve decided this is their Cafe Extravaganza. Now I just need a date to bring here and amaze.”

Roman nodded, “Indeed, the pursuit of true love is ever emboldened by prime date locations. Very well, I shall allow your request, but you must enlighten me if ever you find true love.”

“Sure babes, Moment it happens I’ll run out to tell you.”

/\/\

Roman’s screech made them all freeze momentarily, before Remus was screeching back, unbothered by his nudity as he raced towards the other Creativity.

“I said tell me! Not let me walk in on whatever orgy this is!” Roman dodged around, pointing angrily at Remy.

Remus leapt onto his back at being ignored, also looking at the function. “Tell him what?”

“If I ever got a date, Sugar. He said that when he found my cafe.” Remy called over, snickering when that resulted in Remus now dragging Roman to the bed.

“Okay, so Remy is definitely our boyfriend, first it was just Virgil if Sleep had paid more attention to him and it was dullsville in how slow they went, so Jailbait and I joined in to kick them into hyperspeed. Just wait till I tell you all the kinks we’ve tried and have yet to try.” Remus was happily sharing, avoiding all attempts from Roman to escape.

[mymemoirs]

On Writing & Physical Environment

One of the things I picked up during lockdown was watching tarot reading on Youtube. For me, who had just graduated, watching tarot readers was my source of solace in times when there were a lot of uncertainties in the world and time on my hand. It was nice to have someone with soothing voice telling you that things will be alright even with all the challenges you had to face along the way.

This habit of watching tarot reading from time to time continues until now (btw, my fav tarot reader is Kino Tarot for anyone wondering). I didn't watch as much as before but what I learned from watching those videos are how to put my feelings into words. Sometimes, you can't put a finger to what you're experiencing, and BOOM, the tarot reader skillfully put those into words. It wasn't always like this, but that's how I personally viewed tarot reading.

Disclaimer: Watching tarot reading doesn't mean you're hinging your life into some external forces or believing it can predict your future. I solemnly believe that the ability to move mountains lies within one's self.

Okay, enough with that introduction. So, a couple of weeks ago, I was doing my stuff while watching a pick-a-card tarot reading and through the group of card I chose, I was made aware how "physical environment" matters to my group.

I resonate a lot with that. I always told my close friends that I find certain places, easy to draw inspiration from. When I was an intern in Tangerang, I could write almost every day. Maybe it's because I joined a writing club back then that regularly publishes writing prompt, maybe it's because we always hang out at a cafe after work, maybe it's the weather, maybe it's the novelty of being in a new city, maybe, maybe, the lists goes on. There were a lot of things that I could factor in, but the peak of my writing phase so far had been that period of time. Only one month but it was etched in me and on the writings that I published.

I wish that my current job and environment could let me draw inspiration daily but alas, it wasn't the case. Just looking at the graphics, the time I write and write decreases drastically this past year. I was honestly sad, also frustrated for not doing anything about this. My vocabulary depleted and there were times I struggled finding the right diction for my writings.

I find writing to be my biggest source of comfort. If someone were to stop me from writing, I think I won't be able to stand it. I don't know when this has become a thing for me. Writing might not come easily to me lately but I think about writing a lot. Writing not in the context of jotting down minutes of meeting but for the sake of indulging in our own monologue literarily.

As if tarot reading wasn't enough, I find myself once again at awe on Victor Hugo's (author of The Hunchback of Notre-Dame and Les Misérables) workplace. In Hugo's Hauteville House at Guernsey, there sits at top was his belvedere or glass room that looks upon the scenic view of his home surroundings. When I saw an article on this, I immediately think of "writing" and "environment", and it hits me, I need to write about this (thus, this article).

I am honestly a fan of sunlight (I can sleep with a glaring sun light, but I find sleeping with lamplight difficult), big windows and study room. To me, who fantasize about having her own personal study room prior to the house, finds Victor Hugo's Belvedere compelling. It wasn't how I would imagine my ideal study room but it does gives me ideas on building one in the future.

But I shall leave this to the future.

Now, a pressing matter to attend is how to evoke the best environment for one to write? Even though I am currently writing, I constantly finding myself falling in and out of focus. I was only able to finish this post because my sisters went outside and I had this desk for myself. At least enough for me to put one laptop and a mouse.

If we had to copy the writing environment in Tangerang, it wasn't exactly the space where I write in. Sure, I still prefer typing on laptop rather than writing on paper or phone. But I did all of that, in my bed or sometimes on the coffee shop table. A bed wasn't an ideal spot to work and coffee shop doesn't always conjure my writing spirit. So what is then?

The thing that came to my mind would be being in a novel space. Allowing myself to just write without hesitance. Tidy (which is soooo not where I am right now). Greens, since I mix well with the nature. And I guess, the time to indulge and let your mind wander in and out. This was not very much accessible to me right now. But I know it's not impossible to create this environment for myself. It just needs a lil bit of work. Whether it's moving away, cleaning up your desk, designating a writing time, or simply do novel things and read books.

I will write again in a better place.

- Reina