#yes it took me an hour longer than usual bc I wasn’t paying enough attention so I had to re-braid the strands I pulled out. but it’s fine.

[stewystew]

I am so powerful now that I know how to splice line

[peakyblindersxx]

drunk in love - john shelby x reader

a/n: hello my loves :) here is the john fic that i'm personally really excited about bc i fucking love him & i hope you guys like it!! i'm taking requests if you guys want me to write anything in specific and as always, feel free to message me :)

love, abi xxx

gif by: @deeptheon

prompt: you're john's secretary & he takes you on a trip.

warnings: nsfw!! smut with a teeny tiny bit of fluff if you squint, choking, power play, john being generally irresistible

There were many words to describe John Shelby. Cowardly was not one of them. In the short time you had known him, you had seen him fight god knows how many people, in countless bars across Birmingham. You had seen and heard stories of John blowing up buildings and setting bars on fire. And of course, there was the matter of his arrogance. John dripped confidence from his shoes to his slicked back hair. So cocky, in fact, that you almost wanted to tell him to shut up as much as you wanted to ride his face. Almost.

So, there you sat wistfully at your desk, sneaking glances of him in his office whenever you could. Not that you would even have a chance if you tried; you were his goddamn secretary. Despite the fact that he oozed arrogance, John was a good boss, who always approved your requests for days off. Sure, you were at his beck and call pretty much 24/7, but this also meant you had a front row seat to all the girls he fucked. The women were always stunning, making your hopes deflate even further. However, for the last month, there had been no women. You chalked it up to him finding some sort of girlfriend, so you kept your interactions with him as businesslike as possible. Deep down, through every meeting, phone call, and even just through the windows of his office, you drank in every second of John you could get. He was intoxicating; the smell of his cologne nearly brought you to your knees.

You snapped out of your thoughts, training your eyes back on the work in front of you and taking a drag from your cigarette. Suddenly, you felt a tap on your shoulder. It was Lizzie, a cigarette between her slightly pursed lips. “John wants you in his office. He doesn’t seem mad, but then again, who knows,” she stated. You stood, smoothing out your red pleated skirt and black blouse and quickly opening your compact to make sure your lipstick hadn’t smudged. “Thanks, Lizzie,” you replied, shooting her a smile as she made her way back to her desk. You made your way across the open office space to John’s office, knocking softly on the frosted window pane that read Shelby Company, Ltd in gold lettering.

“Come in,” John called out, his voice muffled behind the wooden door. You turned the doorknob and entered his office, shutting the door behind you. John sat at a tufted leather chair, puffing from a cigar, flipping through a folder. His suit jacket was abandoned on the velvet settee that sat in front of the fireplace, the gold chains of his sleeve garters glistening in the light. The glow from the fireplace glinted off of John’s profile, catching the frame of his jaw just right. You admired the way the light reflected off of the rings on his hands, making you want to feel the cool metal against your body. His hair was neatly slicked back as usual, along with his dark grey vest, white dress shirt, and tie, making him command the attention of the room.

“Lizzie said you wanted to see me?” You questioned, standing at the back of the room.

“Have a seat, Y/N,” John responded, gesturing towards the empty chairs that sat in front of his oak desk. You sat, crossing your legs and tucking them under the chair. John took another puff from his cigar, smoke billowing through the room. “I need to go to London, and

I need you with me.” You were a little surprised at this, since John had never asked you to go somewhere this far with him before.

“For how long?” You asked, taking a cigarette out and lighting it, your lipstick staining it a dark pink as you took a drag. John’s blue eyes bored into yours as he absent-mindedly flicked his cigar, ashing it into the crystal ashtray on his desk. It was almost as if he could read your mind and see all the filthy things you were imagining him doing to you. God, he was fucking irresistable.

“A week,” John replied, shooting his glass of whiskey as he stood, making his way to a locked cabinet and pulling out a wad of pound notes. He peeled a number of them off, making his way towards you and holding them out for you to take, leaning back against his desk facing you. “Buy yourself some nice dresses, eh? There’s going to be a lot of dinners, and I need you there to take notes.”

You accepted the cash, taking a long drag from your cigarette as your eyes met John’s. You couldn’t bring yourself to resist the urge to flirt back. “What’s your favorite color?” John seemed a little surprised at the question, but his normal confidence quickly returned as he smirked. “Black. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, eh?”

You nodded as he poured himself another whiskey, daydreaming about the way his rough hands would feel around your throat. “Is that all, Mr. Shelby?” You asked, black kitten heels tapping against the carpet.

John nodded, taking a sip from his glass. “I’ll see you at eight tomorrow.” You stood, turning to walk out of John’s office as you felt his eyes on your figure. As you closed the door behind you, you shivered in expectation. A week alone with John Shelby. How were you going to manage to keep your hands to yourself?

***

The rest of the work day passed quickly, and you headed to the nearest department store, choosing three different black dresses. As much as you hated to admit it, you wanted to look good for John. You wanted him to want you; to feel that longing that you felt between your legs every time his eyes met yours. You chose a longer formal black dress made of silk, a black sequined dress for a party, and the last, a short black dress with fringe that made you look almost like a burlesque dancer. You knew it was risky, exposing that much skin, but then again, John Shelby wasn’t a normal man. He knew what he wanted and he took it, never paying mind to what others thought.

As the rest of the night flew by, you found yourself tossing and turning in bed. No matter how many times you touched yourself, you couldn’t get the image of John’s smirk out of your head. You wanted him to bend you over right in his office, and you didn’t care who heard. You wanted him to take everything you had to offer. Eventually, you fell asleep, waking up to the sound of birds chirping loudly outside your apartment window. You almost jumped out of bed, blood pumping with excitement. You got ready, slipping on a dark purple silk dress with black tights and purple pumps, stuffing your cigarette case and pocketbook in your black handbag. You poured yourself a cup of tea, hurrying to get all your bags ready as you didn’t want to keep John waiting.

Right as eight o’clock arrived, you heard a knock on your door. It was John, smelling sweetly of cologne and wearing a freshly pressed black pinstripe three piece suit with a grey tie. His cap sat tilted on his head, and dangling from his lips was a cigar. He was a fucking vision to behold, and your head spun at the thought of the two hour car ride in close quarters that you were about to endure. The driver came in to take your bags, leaving John to walk you to the car. He held out his hand to help you step into the Bentley, your skin buzzing with electricity where his fingers touched yours. John closed the door, making his way to the other side and sliding into the leather interior while the driver finished putting the bags in the trunk and made his way to the driver’s seat, starting the engine and taking off.

John’s blue-grey eyes met yours as he puffed at his cigar, cracking the window slightly to let the smoke waft out. “You pack everything we need?” You subconsciously pressed your legs together, filthy images swirling through your brain as you managed to ignore them. “Yes, Mr. Shelby, I got the list you sent me for what to bring. Did you need anything other than that?”

John shook his head no, putting out his cigar in the ashtray. A comfortable silence settled over the two of you as the car rumbled along over the brick roads.

“What’s your favorite color?” You looked over at John in surprise. He must have understood your confusion as he added, “You asked what mine was. I want to know yours.”

“Red,” you replied, fumbling for a cigarette, and when finding one, striking a match to light it.

John’s eyes fixed on your dark red stained lips. “Red, aye?”

Your instincts got the better of you. “Is there a problem with that, Mr. Shelby?”

“Call me John,” he said, words muffled by the cigarette in his mouth that he was lighting. After he finished, he took a drag, fixing his eyes back on you. “And, no. The opposite, actually.”

You weren’t brave enough to ask what that meant, so you let silence take over once again. Maybe later, when you had had a few drinks in you. What the fuck were you doing?

Finally, the dirt roads underneath once again turned into cobblestone, and you knew you were in London by the smell and smoke that hovered over the city. The Bentley rolled to a stop in front of a massive factory building, stretching blocks long. You could hear the yells of the workers from inside the car. John reached for his gun, loading it and affixing it back into his holster.

“We’ve got a meeting first, then dinner. Driver’s going to drop off our bags at the hotel. C’mon sweetheart, and stay by me. Who knows what these fuckers are going to pull around here,” John said, opening the door and reaching his hand out for you to take. You blushed at the pet name, taking John’s hand as he quickly whisked you off the street and into the building, up a flight of stairs where two men directed the two of you into a meeting room with a large table and dark leather chairs. John sank into the chair at the head of the table, and you slid into the seat next to him, taking out a notebook. Before you had any time to even write the date, John’s hand was on your waist, pulling you close to him. Your skin prickled with goosebumps at the proximity.

“If anybody pulls a fucking gun, you get behind me. You understand?” You nodded, crossing your legs at the ankle as you tried to focus your thoughts on something other than how fucking amazing John smelled. John’s hand left your waist as the door opened, the men whom he was meeting with entering the room. The meeting was uneventful, John successfully closing the deal with these men, who you found out were the Chinese. The driver picked you both up out front, taking the two of you back to your hotel to get changed for what you found out was a French restaurant in London’s downtown. The hotel room was a suite with two rooms, one for you and the larger one for John. You decided to wear the short black dress with fringe along with black fluffy kitten heels, and when John walked out of his room, the first word out of his mouth was “Fuck.” Your cheeks blushed a bright pink as John’s eyes traveled down your body.

“You look amazing.” John held out his arm for you to grab, leading you into the car as you took off. It didn’t take long to reach the restaurant, passing through busy streets packed with people of opulence. As John held the door for you to walk in, you almost gasped in amazement at the massive gold chandelier that hung from the ceiling. The waiter led you and John to your table, and as John pulled out your chair for you and walked around the table to sit at his, you almost couldn’t believe you were here, let alone with John Shelby, one of the biggest and by your standards most certainly the most handsome gangsters in Birmingham. Yet, there he sat across from you, looking fucking delectable in a dark grey three-piece suit and black tie.

The dinner was amazing, time passing quickly as the two of you fell into conversation. John Shelby was funny, you realized, and at the heart of it all, sweet. Soon, a glass of wine turned into five, and the driver eventually dropped the two of you back off at the hotel, as the other customers had complained about the raucous laughing coming from your table. You burst into the room giggling, John following close behind, as the two of you flopped onto the velvet settee, knees and shoulders brushing.

“God, you’re fucking pretty,” John said, eyes locking with yours. Your jaw almost dropped as your cheeks turned pink. “What?”

“You heard me,” John said, lighting a cigarette. “You’re fucking pretty.”

You stared at him, alcohol fueling your confidence. “Then why don’t you do something about it?” The words spilled out of your mouth. John wasted no time in pressing his lips against yours roughly, picking you up and setting you on the bed. You moaned into his mouth as he pressed himself against you, feeling his cock hard against your lower stomach, earning a grunt from John as he ripped off your dress, sending buttons flying across the room. You opened your mouth in protest, but John beat you to it. “I’ll buy you three new ones, yeah?” He questioned before running his hands down your hips, a finger slipping underneath the waistband of your black panties. Goosebumps ran down your skin and John chuckled, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.

“God, you look so pretty all spread out for me. Better than I fucking imagined,” he said, pulling your panties down your legs and rubbing his thumb in circles on your clit. Your body jolted in response. “John,” you panted. “Oh fuck John, please don’t tease me..”

John grinned up at you, pushing one finger in you slowly. “What do you want? Tell me, darling.”

“Your mouth, John, please,” you gasped, squirming for some sort of relief. John responded by licking slowly up your cunt, flicking his tongue in circles around your clit before returning his attention to your pussy, his right hand rubbing your clit. You cried out, back arching as you pushed against John’s mouth. You felt him growl in response, vibrations pulsing throughout your body and sending you over the edge and you came all over John’s face. You attempted to catch your breath as John stood with a boyish smirk, wiping the back of his mouth with his sleeve before discarding his clothes, his large cock standing at attention against his taught stomach muscles.

“God you taste good,” John rumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I think I’ll have you tomorrow for breakfast too,” he grinned. You laughed in response, John cutting that laugh short by running the head of his cock up and down your dripping cunt.

“Sir, please,” you whined, eyes widening when you realized what had just left your mouth. Before you could apologize, you felt John’s hand wrap around your throat.

“You going to be a good girl for me, hmm?” John’s blue eyes bored into yours.

“Yes, sir,” you whimpered, crying out as John entered you at a ridiculous pace, covering your mouth with his. He kissed like a starved man, hungry for everything you had to give, and you gave it gladly. John’s cock bumped up against your g spot with every thrust as he fucked you, your moans echoing throughout the hotel room.

“Your pussy is amazing,” John groaned as he fucked into you relentlessly. “Fucking mine now, yeah?”

You nodded, unable to form the proper words as John chuckled darkly. “Pretty little thing, can’t even talk when I’m fucking you this good, hm?” Your only reply was a moan as John gripped your throat tightly, causing you to see stars.

“That’s right, sweetheart, come all over my cock,” John crooned as you reached your release, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm. You cried out as John fucked you even harder, eyes locked with yours. “Mine,” John grunted, hips snapping flush with yours as he continued to thrust inside of you, your pussy squeezing around his cock as you neared your second orgasm.

“I want you to come in me, sir, please,” you begged, hands clawing at John’s back. John groaned in response, fucking you at the fastest pace he possibly could as your cries echoed off the walls before eventually releasing inside of you, falling onto the bed next you as the two of you caught your breath. John slung an arm around you, pulling you close to him as he locked his eyes with yours.

“I meant what I said, you know.” “What did you say?” You asked, brow furrowed with confusion.

“That you were pretty,” John said, sitting up to grab a cigarette and light it, his blue eyes glistening in the light of the fireplace. “I’ve thought about you more than I’d like to admit.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “And I’m not just drunk,” John continued, eyes meeting yours again. “I think I’m in love.”

“Me too.” You couldn’t stop the words from coming from your mouth. John followed them with a deep kiss, pulling you on top of him.

“I’m gonna fuck you until the sun comes up,” John grinned as you laughed, covering your mouth with his.

[yakultberry]

daffodils in winter (1); l.jh

✪ summary: in ancient times, only two lovers were able to sway hades into granting them a second chance at life together. even so, a single look back doomed their love story to inevitably remain a tragedy. but is fate truly set in stone or are we able to mold it with our own hands?  ✪ pairing: orpheus!jihoon x eurydice!reader  ✪ genre(s): angst, fluff, reincarnation au, modern greek mythology au, just,,,, a lot of pining ✪ word count: 3.2k words 

✪ a/n: surprise @custardheart​!! i’m your cwc secret santa! c: <33 i had so much fun trying to not to make it obvious that it was me HAHAH i even told you my dog’s nickname in case you had seen him before. i always love our conversations hahah it feels like we could just talk for hours and hours, especially since we have so much in common hehehe you are literally one of the sweetest people i know on cwc and i’m so glad to call you my friend!!

anyway, this took me so long and it’s not even complete 😔 i really wanted to try making a fic that caters to you and all the things you like reading so i just tried throwing it all in there LOL also peep the banner bc i tried to imitate your blog aesthetic too (which i LOVE by the way). since i didn’t want to leave you empty-handed or for you to think i forgot about you while i complete this fic, i decided to just release it in parts adkjsfals hopefully that’s ok!! 

merry christmas and happy new year, taylor!! I LOVE YOUUU 🥺💖

It was nearly 10pm but the night was as lively as ever with people bustling and weaving along like the small stream that flowed through the middle of the stone-paved walkway. They strolled down the worn path on which thousands of footsteps had passed before them, their breaths lingering in the December air as they laughed together and whispered soft wishes. The harsh bite of winter never deterred couples from coming  out to the walkway; in fact, many lovers used the cold as an excuse to clasp each other’s hands tighter, to press their warm bodies closer together. Even on the harshest nights, the walkway welcomed a handful of couples who would stay until the early hours of the morning. 

This could, in part, be attributed to the walkway itself, or rather what could be found on the walkway. Anyone who stepped along the trodden path would soon find the walkway’s source of life and warmth: a flower stand. Now there were many walkways with flower stands, some even host more than one stand, but none ever seen like this. Even in the middle of winter, the humble stand teemed as though it were early spring with its variety of soft pink tulips, vibrantly purple violas, dainty white snowdrops, and daffodils so yellow they nearly glowed. Each flower was in almost unnaturally pristine condition-- there was never one droopy petal or dried up leaf. Rumor stated that if you bought a bouquet for your significant other, your relationship would surely last a lifetime, outlasting the winters that you might endure. 

Jihoon, of course, knew that this was all a very elaborate marketing scheme to lure out crowds of hopeful couples. While he didn’t have a green thumb himself, he figured that technology must have advanced enough to allow for such beautiful flowers to exist despite the cold, but he wasn’t all too invested in finding out the how’s and what-for’s of the small stand. As long as it brought out the crowds, Jihoon couldn’t care less if the stand scammed naive romantics into throwing away their money for some flimsy symbol of everlasting love. What mattered to him was finding an audience, and he knew, without doubt, that he would find one here. He could already feel the lingering eyes of passersby as he arranged his amp and microphone, filling him with a bubbling anticipation that made his fingers itch for his guitar. 

Despite the tattered appearance of the case, the guitar within seemed to be lined with gold along its edges, gleaming fantastically under the light of a street lamp. Upon closer inspection however, it was apparent that the instrument was well-worn with its own array of scuffs and scratches along the neck and body from its many years of performance. The guitar fit into Jihoon’s hands as if it were molded to be held by him, and he smiled to himself as he strummed each string to check for tuning. Just like that, he felt home. 

“Do you always have to set up so close to me?” At the sound of your voice, Jihoon felt his grin widen, and he immediately looked up to make sure that you saw it in all its smug, cheeky glory. You stood to the side with a pair of stem clippers in hand, which he might have found intimidating had you not been holding a daffodil in the other. The endearing smile that itched at the corners of your lips didn’t do much to scare him either.

“This is where all the foot traffic is, so yes,” he mused teasingly. He then pointed to the flower in your hand. “I see you’re getting ready to shower me in flowers after my performance. People usually throw roses though, you know.”

“Okay, just don’t let it get of hand this time,” you said over your shoulder, already turning back to return to your flower stand. He didn’t dare look away, because on your third step back, you always twirled to face him for a moment to flash your unfaltering smile at him, which he mirrored.“The whole neighborhood must have thought you were having a concert with all the people that came out.” 

“That wasn’t my fault!” he called after you, but you had already returned to your post, greeting several new customers who looked at your bouquets with awe and wonder. 

As you began to gather flowers for a couple’s request, you could hear Jihoon finally open his set with a healing, energetic tune that had the small crowd clapping along to the beat. The first time he had come out to the walkway, it had shocked you how the first note he strummed had immediately taken a hold of you, how it had somehow melted your concentrated frown into a smile with ease. It had been the end of a long day and you were ready to close up shop when a boy had set up for a busking session nearby. Although he only brought one small amp, you felt each note resonate in your chest, and felt the music brush your skin as though it hung in the air like a mist. Suddenly, thoughts of your stressful day had dissipated, dissolved by the boy’s guitar and clear, pure voice. It was unlike anything you felt before.

And yet, it was so easy for you to give in to the enchanting sensation, falling into its embrace like you were reunited friends.  

Now you anticipated the way the melody gently tugged your lips into a smile and how your heart beat seemed to fall into rhythm with each chord. You knew you weren’t the only one so strongly moved by the music though. The customers you were currently tending to, a young couple new to the walkway, had immediately turned their heads towards Jihoon as he continued his set with another lighthearted tune about confessing and butterflies. Their sparkling eyes told you that you weren’t the only one moved by Jihoon’s music, and you couldn’t help but notice how they subconsciously reached for each other’s hands, fingers intertwining fondly. Much to your concern, a wistful sigh escapes your lips at the sight. Your eyebrows furrowed as you felt a dull ache blanket over your chest. 

You tried shaking your head to rid yourself of the feeling, rushing to finish wrapping up the flowers in brown paper and string. “Your bouquet is ready!” you said much louder than intended, snapping the couple from their daze. Both blinked in surprise at their clasped hands as if just realizing how close they’d gotten, and you bit back a giggle when they could no longer meet each other’s eyes. Much like many of your other customers on the nights that Jihoon busked, they immediately joined his audience after paying, unable to get enough of his sweet voice. You stared after them for a bit, feeling somewhat intrusive as they overcame their initial hesitance and held hands once more. And suddenly it was there again: this time it felt more restless like you were waiting, but for what, you didn’t know. 

It wasn’t the first time you felt this way.  In fact, every time it creeped up on you like this, it frightened you how it settled in the pit of your stomach so effortlessly as if it had made a home there, deep inside you. It made you feel like you had been waiting for tens of thousands of lifetimes. Like you had been waiting so long that you forgot what you were waiting for.

At this point, you weren’t sure if you wanted to remember. 

Throughout your life, the weight in your chest had made itself known only a handful of times, usually in quiet moments when the dark felt like it could swallow you up. It was the reason why you took refuge in the bright hustle and bustle of the walkway and why you lingered if only to be surrounded by your flowers. But now, it followed you even in the middle of a crowd, in the midst of the music. 

“Hi! Could I get some roses?” The voice of a new customer finally tugged your attention from the couple, allowing for the pressure in your chest to dissolve for the moment. 

 “Of course you can, sir,” you chirped, relieved for the distraction. “What color?  Would you like a bouquet?”

The customer, who stood alone, seemed to wiggle in thought. “Red, I guess! Don’t worry about wrapping them up! I’ll just take them as is, since I’ll be throwing them to that busker over there.” 

“Oh! Wow, he must have made a real fan out of you, sir.” 

At your statement, he let out a chuckle. “Oh, for sure. I wish he chose a warmer venue though.I guess that can’t be helped,” he said, giving you a meaningful nod, eyes gleaming as they always seemed to. You were taken aback by the sudden realization: You’ve met him before. 

“Right,” you replied absentmindedly, forcing yourself to focus on gathering the last of your customer’s order in an attempt to mask your bewilderment. You were positive that you had never seen this man’s face in your life, yet you were struck with the insistence that not only did you know him, but that he knew you too. He was there, somewhere in your memory. But the closer you tried to get, the further you seemed to step into a murky fog; was it a far away memory or was it just a dream? Chancing a glance at him only served to fluster you even further, especially with the way his smile made you feel as though he could sense your inner bewilderment. You cleared your throat and timidly returned his smile as you handed him his roses. “Anyway uh-- here is your order, sir! He’s about to play the last of his set, so you should probably get over there. Hopefully he likes them!”

“Oh, I’m sure he will love them,” the customer grinned, placing cash in place of the flowers. “Well, I’ll see you around!” 

And with a quick wink, he made his way to join Jihoon’s audience, and once more, you were left to deal with your thoughts on your own. What was it with the customers and launching you into emotional reveries tonight? You decided that that was a good excuse as any to close up shop for the night; you weren’t sure that you’d be able to handle another bout of deja vu or inexplicable longing. Plus you wanted to properly watch Jihoon’s last song, as you always did. You glanced over at him as you cleaned up,  but you were quick to avert your gaze when he suddenly met your eyes and offered you a wide grin. 

As much as you enjoyed his music, you couldn’t ignore how his appearance in your life coincided with these recurring feelings. It was perplexing how it seemed that with one strum of his guitar, he somehow brought you both comfort and simmering unease. But if you were being honest, you couldn’t say you hated it. You knew that if you asked him to set up  a little more upstream, your flower stand would undoubtedly become your haven once more. It was an easy fix. Simple. But even when his weekly busks frequented to every other day, you only found yourself clutching tighter to that moment of elation when he began a performance. 

When you stood there and listened to him play, you had a growing certainty that you would go through any length of suffering if it meant you could keep that moment. 

Jihoon was barely able to sing his last note when the crowd drowned him out with applause and, to his surprise, showered him in several roses from the stand. He caught one in his hand, eyes shining with laughter as he immediately searched for your face. Instead of finding you though, he caught sight of someone that wiped the smile from his lips. Before he could so much as curse under his breath, the man took hold of his microphone and addressed the audience.

“Bravo, bravo! Ladies and gentlemen, please give another round of applause for Woozi, Olympic Entertainment’s feature producer! Woo!” the man boomed a little too close to the mic. “Olympic Entertainment sincerely thanks you for all of your love and support from this past year. We hope that you can continue supporting us and listening to Woozi’s ballads in this upcoming year. Please be on the lookout for his new single that we will be releasing on New Year’s Day!”

As the crowd erupted into murmurs and whispers, the man turned to beam at Jihoon, who replied with a stare as cold as the wind. “Soonyoung, what are you doing here?”

“The boss wants you to stop screwing around and get back to the studio,” Soonyoung said with a shrug. 

“I’m not screwing around! You know damn well why I came out here--”

“Hey, those were his words not mine-- I’m just delivering them.” Jihoon tensed when he felt Soonyoung’s hand on his shoulder, having half a mind to shrug it off. He knew though, that Soonyoung had little choice when it came to the boss’ word, and neither did he. There was no use in taking out his frustrations on his friend, especially when the damage was already done. “You know that I would never have taken it that far if I didn’t have to.” 

Jihoon sighed, nodding. “I know. I’ll just see you tomorrow.”

The crowd gradually dispersed as Jihoon packed away all of his equipment, and suddenly, he felt the full force of winter without the warmth of the crowd shielding him. He hadn’t expected that it would be so cold. After his previous busk sessions, several people in the audience would stay a while longer and approach him, usually to make conversation about his music or to simply thank him for the performance. Now they kept their distance, looking his way discreetly while they whispered about who he really was like he couldn’t hear them. Jihoon scoffed and slammed his guitar case shut, numb fingers fumbling at the clasps.

“Are you okay?” He didn’t have to look up to know that it was you. 

“I’m fine,” he huffed out, jaw clenched. When you didn’t make any move to leave, he gave in and looked at you, a grave mistake on his part. At the sight of your sympathetic smile, he sat back down on the bench; there was no use struggling to put up a front when you seemed to see right through it anyway. You sat on the opposite end of the bench, facing him to show that you were there to listen. After all those times he came here, this was probably the closest you’d ever gotten to him, and yet Jihoon found himself wishing you had sat closer. “Well, I’ve been better.” 

“I’m sorry that I sold that guy those flowers. If I had known that he was going to do that, I--” 

“No, that was all on me,” Jihoon said quickly, unable to let you apologize any further when you were merely doing your job. “You probably think I just came here for some promotional stunt.”

“I mean I didn’t, but now that you mention it…” Without knowing it, Jihoon let out a chuckle at your teasing.  “Even if it was for promotions, I don’t think anyone here would mind. Plenty of people busk to promote themselves. I don’t think that makes their songs any less genuine.” 

He shook his head, the sigh that left his lips hanging in the air for a moment. “I mind. I love my job and everything, but I really needed a break from all that extra stuff. I came here because I knew it would just be about the music. No one had stopped to listen because it was my music or if it was a Woozi production or whatever. They only listened because they liked it. Now I won’t know if that’s actually the case.”

“I don’t see why they can’t enjoy your music while knowing who you are,” you said, eyebrows scrunched together, and Jihoon watched as you rested the side of your head against the back of the bench. Have your eyes always been this captivating? You dropped your voice to a stage whisper. “Is that your secret? Is your music magical only for those who don’t know your true identity?”

“Something like that. Isn’t my music a bit more impressive if I’m just a regular person and not a professional producer?” Jihoon laughed. “I mean, imagine if people knew the secret behind how you grow your flowers in the winter. Don’t you think they’d be less inclined to buy them?” 

You snorted. “I don’t have a secret, though?”

“Oh come on, you literally sell springtime flowers in the winter! You must get them imported or have some kind of fancy greenhouse.” 

“I literally can’t even rent a space to sell my flowers indoors. I can’t afford any of that! They’re just flowers that I’ve grown in my garden. I tell people how I grow my flowers all the time and it doesn’t change anything. It still means something to them,” you said insistently. And then, softer, “Just like how knowing you’re some big shot producer doesn’t change the fact that I’ve never heard music like yours before.” 

Jihoon swallowed, wanting more than ever to close the distance between the two of you. It was a gravity that he felt ever since his first performance, something he had originally attributed to the walkway and how perfect it was for his busks. As he sat here beside you though, the force seemed to tug at his chest almost painfully until it was aching. With his hands clenched, he tore his gaze away from you, unsure of what he was going to say next. His thoughts were fuzzy, like a static television screen going in and out of focus, and the only image he could make out was you. Or at least he hoped that it was you. 

“By the way, ballads? I’ve only ever heard you play happy songs.” 

“This was the only place I could play them,” Jihoon replied quietly. When his eyes met with yours, he was taken aback by how much he meant it; even if he tried to play these songs in the studio, he was certain that it wouldn’t be the same at all. Forcing a smile, he finally met your eyes again. “It was nice while it lasted.” 

“Wait, are you not… are you not going to come back anymore?” 

“I don’t think I should. There wouldn’t be any point, right? Since people know who I am now.” 

“Oh.” I still don’t know who you are. This time, you were the one to turn away from him, a small frown on your lips. A harsh wind came in then, ruthlessly rustling the bare branches of trees and lifting loose petals from the ground around your stand. They swirled in the air wildly for several moments before raining down on where you and Jihoon sat in silence. Seeing how he shivered, you took the scarf off your neck and wrapped it around his own. “Here take this.”

“W-what about you?” When he moved to return the item, you shook your head and smiled.

“I’m used to the cold.”

[izukyu]

𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐯𝐚𝐬 - keigo takami x reader

this is a birthday gift for my crackhead wine aunt, @waddle-yee​. katie i love u so much it’s unreal! i hope you enjoy the crumbs m’lady!

reblogs are appreciated bc i worked really hard on this, heart eyes.

pairing - keigo takami (hawks) x reader.

word count - 2.3k.

warnings - very vague manga spoilers for pro hero arc, possibly ooc hawks, swearing, and just. a lot of fluff.

summary - hawks needed to gain the public’s hearts once again, and attending a charity event seemed like the way to go, but falling for the cute artist in charge of him wasn’t something he planned on. 

★ - requests are open

“your ratings are falling, hawks”

being bothered during his lunch break wasn’t something keigo was particularly fond of. the one time of the day he could let loose in his office, ruined.

“is that so?” he could only hope his agent would understand his words in the midst of his chewing, making a point he was only half-interested in the newsletter.

“the hero public safety commission reached out, you need to get your approval up again before they intervene.”

keigo gulped.

what a mouthful. they were never good news - the last time keigo met with them he was deployed as a spy, for crying out loud. needless to say, he was still their subordinate, and rejecting their demands was nothing more than a heavenly reverie.

“so, got any ideas?” keigo put down his plastic plate, lamenting the unfinished state of lunch.

“well, there’s this charity event coming up, and they’re calling for - ”

“i’m in! send me the time and place and i’ll be there,” sadly. it’s not like he had any personal vendettas with charity events or the public per se, but the simple fact he had to be shoved into one to please his superiors was enough to leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

next time he’d attend to one of his own accords.

“i’ll send it to you by email.”

keigo gave the poor intern a frown, his eyebrows drawn. “just send me a text, sheesh.”

-

maybe if he had paid more attention to the text then maybe he wouldn’t be stuck in this quandary of graphite and stillness

“you do this to every guy you meet?”

you scoffed, eyes never once leaving the canvas before you. “yes, every model i work with is required to stand still, if that’s what you were wondering.”

keigo was glad he put on a smile from the start, or else you would’ve chewed him out for moving too much.

the event was still a couple weeks away, but portraits don’t grow on trees. in all fairness, keigo was a killer model - every magazine featuring him sells out within the hour, and the photographers he’s worked with never fail to shower him in compliments and praise.

his charm didn’t seem to carry on to drawings, apparently. as you’d put it before, he was but ‘an over-energetic city pigeon that would chase around little kids for fun at every given opportunity’.

oddly specific, but it got a chuckle out of him.

“i’m almost done, so just stand still for a little longer.”

“won’t be a problem, dove, i’m already a pro,” keigo had to suppress another snicker as you hid behind the canvas, your face growing warm at the dumb pet name. another tally for hawks in his imaginary scoreboard. although standing still for longer than ten minutes wasn’t something he could see himself doing ever again, teasing you would definitely be a must in the near future.

anything for your flushed, annoyed expression.

“your wing did the thing again.”

of course it did. keigo wailed silently, dreading the sound of your pencil meeting the cotton before you, scratching and imposing.

the passing of time seemed like a foreign concept the longer he posed in front of you, amber eyes preying on you. every movement, every speck of graphite staining your hands, forever engraved in his mind. you didn’t question his sudden quietness, too engrossed in finishing the first of many portraits you’d have to make for the event.

would every other hero be as jittery and energetic as the man standing before you? 

would every other hero grow uneasy at the idea of standing still for no longer than fifty minutes?

“alright, you’re good to go.”

startled, keigo nearly fell off the small stool. “oh, was that all?”

you felt your eye twitch, choosing to ignore his wit, “it’s weird to think your portrait will probably go beyond five digits, someone’s gonna willingly pay to have those bushy eyebrows in their living room.”

keigo choked on his spit, coughs laced with laughter overruling the silence of the studio. “where did that come from?”

with a shrug and a triumphant smirk, you start to usher him out of your studio, “it had to be said, but you’re still cute, so i wouldn’t count it as a loss!” there were projects that needed your undivided attention and care, some with scary deadlines, and a birdman wasn’t exactly someone you needed to prioritize now. “see you at the event, yeah?”

“wait, hey, i wanna see what it looks like - ”

“no can do, have a great afternoon!”

before he could protest, he was already out and gone from your studio, the door nearly slamming on his wings. without much thinking, he turned around, his knuckles grazing against the door repeatedly. “c’mon, not even a sneak peak? i promise i won’t tell!”

someone clearing their throat behind him tore keigo away from the piece of wood in a heartbeat.

“endeavor-san, nice meeting you here! y’see, i left something inside, and i was just knocking so - “

“i don’t want to know.”

what was it with today and everyone interrupting him?

keigo snapped his fingers, “copy that.” from the corner of his eyes he spotted a neat pile of presentation cards, almost begging to be noticed and put to use.

fine, if you didn’t feel like letting him into your heart he’d just have to irk you over text.

knowing better than to bother endeavor again, keigo simply stepped out of the room, his fingers eagerly keying in the digits into his cellphone.

spoiler alert, it wasn’t you who texted him back, but your assistant was a delight, and set him up for another session after the event.

-

keigo has a strong, abhorrent opinion on wearing suits. they’re stuffy, constricting, and make his wings itch more than normal. despite having a custom-made, tailored suit, the sentiment of being under lock and key only ever went away as soon as he lost the jacket and shirt. something he couldn’t quite do in an event like this.

“what do you mean they’re running late?”

your second in command sighed, eyes still glued on their phone. from the brief texts they had shared, keigo would be proud to admit they’d found a friend in your friend, if that made any sense. “there were some supplies left in the studio, had to run back to get ‘em.”

keigo sighed. just what he needed in this trying time.

“but the portraits are already up if you want to check them out.”

oh.

among the sea of bidders inspecting the canvases on display, keigo’s feeble attempts to get a closer look were fruitless. his wings usually gave leverage when his height failed to do so, but flapping in such a close environment would bring more trouble than it’s worth.

with a defeated sigh (admitting to lacking in height was… disheartening) two of his feathers flew down to his feet, giving him the small boost he needed.

he most certainly didn’t expect to come face-to-face with himself.

minutes passed, and keigo remained under a trance. it was simplistic, the graphite morphing to cast an umbra on portrait-hawks. he could picture almost perfectly the light and shadow dancing together in both the canvas up for bidding and your skilled hands, the same ones that had left a nasty smudge on the back of his coat.

lo and behold, you were right, his unruly eyebrows were rather prominent.

“sorry for the delay, the traffic was horrible and the cab - don’t get me started on the cab,” you ranted as you walked through the busy hall, chanting apologies left and right. “the auction hasn’t started yet, right?”

“no, but there’s someone waiting for you.”

you furrowed your eyebrows. the people attending were either eager to see their favorite heroes in ritzy clothing or aching to take one of them home - in a canvas, of course. “don’t get me wrong, i love getting the work going, but i swear these deadlines are gonna be the death of me.”

“no need to fret,” keigo stepped down from his feathers, and you couldn’t quite read the expression on his face. happy? tired? finally becoming the paragon of tenderhearted? “i’m part of your schedule already, booked a sesh and all.”

“... you mean the one I just cancelled?”

his wings drooped almost comically, “the one you just what?”

teasingly, you pushed him back, consequently making him bump into someone else. “i’m just messing around, i’m actually looking forward to it.” you could only watch as he gave the person a brief apology, posing for a selfie milliseconds after. heroes.

“is that so? i thought i was a bad subject,” keigo tugged at his collar, making a mental note to burn the shit out of the suit once home.

“the worst, actually,” more people began migrating to the opposite side of the room before the auction started. “but you’re fun to be around, so i’ll manage.”

keigo couldn’t contain his smile this time. it wasn’t his signature snigger you’d have flooding your timeline after his photo sessions, rather just a simple, genuine tug of his lips.

“and maybe you’re kinda pretty, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

and just like that, the warm smile contorted into a smug smirk. “you got me there, dove! wasn’t expecting that to come out of your pretty mouth.”

you huffed, diving to give his cheek a good pinch before dragging him to follow the rest of the guests. “that’s one creepy way to phrase it. now take a seat, i’ve got to hand out a couple of endeavors and edgeshots.”

keigo, still savoring the compliment like a kid would with a sweet, took an extra second to process those words. “they got more than one?”

-

cut to his second private session. five minutes after your scheduled lunch break, some leftover fries and ice cream exiled to your desk.

“alright, something’s on your mind.”

keigo remained stationary. this time it was just a mere pencil in your hand, waltzing on the canvas without a worry on its nonexistent mind. calculated. precise. free. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

you sighed, tucking the pencil behind your ear, sparing the finished sketch a last glance before walking to the brooding bird before you. “your wings, they’re not doing the thing.”

“and what about it?”

“well, for one, it was much easier to jot them down, i can assure you they’ll look great once i paint them,” keigo shuddered as you stood closer, how did you even get a lead stain on your cheek? “but i think i know you well enough to deduce something’s up. you’re not even being a cocky cockatiel.”

keigo let out a long, long sigh. “i’m not a cockatiel.”

“and you’re not being yourself. c’mon, why’d you even come here if you’re just gonna be grumpy?”

a brief flash of cold, burning blue clouded his mind. “work’s getting to me, i guess.”

you weren’t a pro hero of any sorts, the only context you had regarding that chaotic world would come from whatever hashtag was trending, and the occasional hero dropping by your studio to talk business. nevertheless, you knew how to spot and comfort a gloomy friend.

“you wanna paint yourself?”

“what?”

that seemed to get his attention, and it brought a smile to your face. you bit your lip eagerly, “i need to go get some paints, but you look like you need some cheering up, so you’re not leaving this room without painting your own portrait”

keigo’s lip trembled involuntarily, your words tugging at his already-soft heart. “i’ve never - i’ve never touched a paintbrush in my life.”

“woah, not even at school?”

“homeschooled.”

your hand moved on its own, ruffling his naturally messy hair. “i’ll get you acrylic paint.”

he could only tap his foot anxiously in your absence, running a hand across his face. the commission, as per usual, found great joy to bother him through day and night, almost as if his suffering tickled their ribs. keigo wouldn’t mind playing the part of the asshole kid who took tickling way too far when it came to them, hero regulations and spy work be damned.

not to mention the dust-up he had with a certain cremated acquaintance a couple days back, leaving him featherless and vulnerable for a whole day.

but as you approached him once again, a number of paints cradled in your arms and pockets, keigo could feel the weight in his shoulders slowly mitigating.

“okay, what do you think feels like the way to go?”

thankfully, his wings could twitch to their content while wearing your apron. he would’ve been just fine painting without any safety measures, but your flabbergasted expression urged him to realize clothes are expensive.

keigo gripped the paintbrush with one hand, the other holding a red paint tube, “this can’t be rocket science, i got this.”

your boisterous laughter as he squeezed some paint straight into the paintbrush told him that maybe it was rocket science after all.

“it’s not a toothbrush, keigo!” god, he loved his name rolling off your tongue.

“oh my god, next time try cleaning the paintbrush before you start to paint with another color.” he was certain your giggles could keep him going through endless crimes and stacks of paperwork.

“hey, that’s cute, you’re using different colors for your suit.”

keigo chuckled, “can’t have the piss color scheme spicing up my living room.”

that was the final straw, and you both rightfully lost it. leaning into each other to prevent falling to the floor as a result of raw elation. even your snorts were adorable, your babbling a melody to his ears, and shrieks of amusement making his heart thump faster.

at the end of the day, keigo left the studio with a gorgeous painting, as you’d generously put it. the first time he’d truly felt unbound to everything to be forever remembered with a mess of colors and sloppy strokes hanging proudly atop his bed.

the first time keigo ever felt truly free on canvas.

★ - check out the rest of my works!

★ - wanna get tagged in my stuff?

general: @brattyquirks​ @quirkless-fics​ @tooloudarts​ @bringingpinkbac-k​ @thewaterlily​ @kittyatemytaco​ @nyantodamax145​ @iachan03​ @imconfusedanditsok​ @nishigo​ @torrpe​ @bakugo-baby​ @lovingshoto​ @yuueimagines​ @shigarakis-fifth-hand​ @uwus-for-bnha​

hawks: @witchy-anna​

[zevlors-tail]

Lonely With You

Pairing: ProHero!Izuku x GN ProHero!Reader

Warnings: Self doubt, self deprecating thoughts/words, cursing, reader is very angry in the beginning and throws something if that’s a trigger for anyone (doesn’t throw it directly at anything or anything in particular), lots of crying on reader’s part, song fic, tooth rotting fluff at the end. <3

A/N: Song fic! Sports by Beach Bunny. I said I couldn’t write shit but here we are. I just one shotted this thing in the span of like 3 hours and in 3 more hours, I have to go into work with no sleep. :’) But really it’s fine bc I had motivation and I DID THE THING. I wrote something I kind of liked! I am obsessed with this song right now, so suffer with me I guess.

The second you stormed into the house and slammed the door shut behind you, Izuku could tell something was off. Sure, you had your bad days, but somehow this was different.

“Hi, love! How was your da-” Before he could even finish, you cut him off with an angry look and a short response.

“Fucking awful. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Izuku knew better than to take your short response personally, though he would be lying if he said it didn’t irk him in the slightest. However, you didn’t curse often, and using the “F” word usually meant you were at your wits end with whatever situation you were dealing with. He watched you as you strode past the kitchen with blind rage and threw down your headpiece to your hero costume. A piece of it actually busted off from how hard you had chucked it across the room, nearly missing his eye as it flew past him and making him visibly flinch. 

Upon seeing his reaction, you immediately stopped in your tracks and snapped out of your fit of anger, concern for your partner taking over you instead. “Shit-! Izu, I’m so sorry, are you alright!?” Tears welled in your eyes as you panicked and checked his face over for any collateral damage, and when you could find none, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“I’m fine, Y/N. Are...you okay? I know you said you didn’t want to talk about it, but you look really...upset.” He struggled to find the right words for a moment. You looked upset, sure, but it was more than that. There was a foreign look in your eyes he hadn’t seen before, something heavy and dark lurking behind your usually bright orbs. His heart couldn’t help but ache for the look you gave him.

If you feel lonely, I could be lonely with you. Tell me baby, why do you seem so blue?

You broke down in tears within seconds, cries of frustration and anguish clawing their way up from your ribcage to your throat. Today had drained you for all your worth and made you feel utterly exhausted. But if you were being honest, this had been going on much longer than just a day. It just so happened that today’s events had been the last straw for you and left you feeling defeated. Months of self doubt and anxieties were finally catching up to you, and now you were paying the price.

Izuku wrapped his arms around you tightly and held your head to his chest as you hiccuped. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He nuzzled his face into your hair before pressing a sweet kiss to your crown, his hand sliding to your back to rub comforting circles.

“I’m no good,” you managed between sobs. “I’m a terrible hero, and I should just quit while I’m ahead. I’ll never amount to anything useful. All I do is get in the way and cause problems for others!” You continued to cry while Izuku let you vent, although it took everything he had in him not to interject that all of those things couldn’t be further from the truth.

Why are we so complicated? Maybe love is overrated...

“I’m a failure. I failed my mission and if it wasn’t for Uravity...” You let out a strangled cry as you admitted what was weighing you down so heavily. “They almost died! They almost died, and it would have been all my fault! If I had just pushed myself harder, if I had done more, then- then- then none of this would have happened!” 

“Oh, love...no.”

“I should just do everyone a favor and stop being a Pro. My manager did always say I was better as a sidekick, anyway,” you laughed bitterly at the memory, distracted only for a moment before returning to crying, albeit a little quieter. “I’m ready to give up. Everything I do is wrong... I don’t think I’m cut out for this anymore.”

I’m tired of waiting! I was never good at sports; save the games for the girls on the tennis courts.

Izuku sighed softly before cupping your face in his hands and gazing intently at you. “Y/N Y/L/N, you are not a failure. You are the light of my life and the best thing to have ever happened to me. Do you know that?”

You hesitated a minute while you sniffled and rubbed at your eyes. “Are you sure about that? Because I feel like I’m failing at everything... At being a hero, at being a friend, and at being your partner. I’ve been so stressed out lately that I’ve barely been able to pay attention to you. I’m so sorry, Izuku...” Fresh tears pooled at the corners of your eyes as your self doubt ate at you.

Say you need me, but lately you feel unsure.

“You didn’t let me finish.” 

“Ah, I’m sorry-”

“Nope! No more apologizing, especially when you didn’t do anything wrong.” A small smile found it’s way to his lips as he spoke, “I’ve watched you grow from a student in the hero course with me into the wonderful person and amazing hero you are now, and I want you to know I’m proud of who you’ve become. You’ve been nothing but nice to Uraraka, Iida, and Todoroki, and you’ve done everything you can to support me and be there for me when I need you to be. You cheered me on and pushed me to do better when I felt like giving in so many times. Without you, I wouldn’t be the hero I am today.”

“That’s really flattering, but I think All Might was mostly responsible for making you the hero you are now.”

Come on to me, come on to me...I need more!

Izuku laughed a little as you smiled at your comment, though the pain remained behind your eyes still and his gaze was just as intense as before. He quickly regained composure and continued. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit, love. I was watching the live feed from home while you were on your mission, and from one hero to another, you did all you could with the hand you were dealt in that situation. You can’t place unnecessary blame on yourself for something that’s not your fault. You weren’t a hinder to them, and you didn’t cause them any further problems. I mean, unless you were the one who set the building on fire, but that’s not likely, right?” His teasing tone was meant to lighten the situation, but it seemed to have no affect against the worry and anxiety radiating from you. “Y/N.”

“Hm?” At some point you realized you had zoned out and starting daydreaming about all the possible ways the situation could have gone wrong. Izuku’s voice pulled you back to reality and away from your twisted reverie.

“I love you. It’s okay to feel upset and angry about today, about yesterday, about last month- and especially about that comment your manager made. Which, by the way, we need a new manager for you now, but that’s not the point. I want you to know that I will always be here to support and love you like you’ve supported and loved me. Your friends love you and support you also, you know. Uraraka was just asking me about you yesterday, actually...said you looked a little blue. Oh, and Todoroki wanted me to pass on a message. Something about an angry pomeranian? Are you two making fun of Kaachan again?” He gave you a pointed look.

“Well...yes and no?” You sheepishly grinned and laughed while he just rolled his eyes.

“Anyways, the point I’m trying to make is that you are worth so much more than you think. Your friends love you, I love you, and your fans also love you. You’re more than just a sidekick. You’re an amazing hero and an even better partner to me, and you are not and will never be a failure at any point in time. You did all you could to save those people, and if you hadn’t stepped in when you did, Uravity might not have been able to get to them after all. If you don’t want to be a hero anymore, then of course I’ll support you no matter what, but that’s not really what you want to do, is it?”

Deep down, you knew Izuku was right. There was no way you could step down from being a hero; you loved helping people almost as much as he did. Being a hero was just as much a part of you as your nose or your eyes or your lips. It was a second nature, something you couldn’t just give up on so easily.

“I want to help people and be a hero. I just...lately, I just don’t feel like I’m good enough.” 

You sounded so sad and dejected still, and it absolutely broke his heart. Izuku silently promised himself to do everything in his power to make you believe in yourself again before racking his brain for ideas on how to further cheer you up. When you had bad days, there were certain things he did to comfort you and help you relax, but this seemed to be a bit more serious, and thus, required a more elaborate solution than the normal hot bath and back massage. Maybe...yes, that was perfect! It probably wouldn’t fix the problem long term, but it would be a good start.

“You are good enough, and I will always be here to remind you of that.” He leaned in and gave you a soft kiss. “Come on, let’s go relax in bed. I’ll even give you a ride there if you want.”

Your eyes immediately lit up as he turned around and crouched down so you could climb on to his back. As goofy as he was, you absolutely adored him. “Yes! You’re the best!” You squealed as he lifted you up with ease and locked his arms around the back of your legs to keep you nice and secure while he strode to the bedroom. Once there, he set you down on the bed before putting his plan into motion.

At the foot of your bed, you had a night sky projector that would cast the image of stars and planets onto your ceiling. Izuku had gotten it for you for your last birthday, and you loved it dearly. It made you feel content and relaxed when you were restless. Often times, you used it while you were in the bath or right before bed when you were having a rough night. It was perfect for occasions like this. Choosing the setting with the purple colored lights, Izuku powered it on and the two of you watched as your bedroom lit up all over. It was like you were really in space.

He made his way back to bed where you were currently snuggling into the giant comforter you both shared, a blissful smile on his face at the sight of you. You seemed to be feeling better already; you cuddled up to him as the little spoon as soon as he slid under the covers with you. He made sure to find a comfortable position for the both of you, and with the ambience set, there was only one last thing to do.

“If you feel broken, promise I won’t break your heart. If you shatter, I won’t let you fall apart. Why are we so complicated? Love’s a word I’ve always hated...”

You listened to him sing softly, the words falling from his lips effortlessly as he serenaded you with your favorite melody.

“I’m tired of waiting! I was never good at sports; save the games for the girls on the tennis court. Say you need me, but lately you feel unsure. Come on to me, come on to me, I need more...”

You closed your eyes and slowly drifted away from your worries as he sang. If every night could end like this, then maybe everything would be okay after all.

“It always feel like I need more... Jesus Christ, you’re so confusing! If we keep score, bet my money that I’m losing...”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“No, I love you more.”

You felt his laugh reverberate through his chest as he snuggled closer.

“Go to bed, Y/N.”

“Mmn...”

“If you feel lonely, I could be lonely with you... Tell me, baby, why do you seem so blue?”

[sparklingskz]

drowning on dry land | yang jeongin

▸ requested?: yes!

▸ genre: high school au, angst!!! not happy!!!, bad boy? jeongin

▸  pairing: reader x jeongin

▸ description: you wouldn’t classify your relationship with jeongin as the sweetest, most loving one, and you think you deserve better.

▸ word count: 2.2k

▸ warnings: swearing, unhealthy relationships

▸  a/n: this was pretty difficult to write bc i imagine jeongin as a soft cinammon roll that would hurt no one :( but i tried my best!!! hope it’s not that bad lmao this barely has any plot i’m sorry

“Are you even listening, Jeongin?” You ask, irritation already evident in your tone.

You were sitting beside him at lunch, telling him about your day. Or well, at least trying to.

“Yeah, continue.” He locked his phone and put it in his pocket.

“If you were listening, what was I just saying?” You inquired.

“Come on y/n, don’t be like this.” He rolled his eyes.

“Like this how, Jeongin? I’m tired of you not paying attetntion to what I say, you’re my boyfriend for God’s sake, it’s the minimum you can do!” You exclaimed, earning a few curious glances from the people eating around you.

“I’m not doing this right now.” He simply said, then stood up and left you alone at the table.

-

It was not the first time something like that happened. You and Jeongin had been dating for a month, and you had expected that things would’ve gotten better already.

You both were classmates, and had been for the past four years of high school. You used to talk a bit during the first months you met, usually exchanging greetings whenever you saw each other in the hallways or commenting the contents you reviewed in class. You could even go ahead and dare to call him your friend.

This changed drastically when the third year of high school came around. He just walked into class the first day and didn’t even spare you a glance, and you weren’t about to go and ask him why.

Since then you never really interacted with each other, as you didn’t have any reason to do so. However, you watched him grow, watched how he exchanged his soft hoodies for his leather jacket and his smile for emotionless looks. He got into trouble all the time, not caring at all when teachers scolded him. He just had a really hostile attitude towards the world (not towards you, though). You thought it was probably thanks to the people he always hung out with, his three best friends who acted the same as him. Basically, he transformed into the oh so typical “bad boy”.

You, on the other hand, had stayed as the introverted person you were, just liking to be left alone to your own devices and never getting involved in any drama.

People didn’t mind your presence, thus spilling all their secrets and gossiping around you like you weren’t even there. This is how you got to know about Jeongin’s “reputation”: he didn’t care about relationships, he had tried to establish one many times but always ended up dumping the person, stepping all over their heart like it was his to do so.

Despite this reputation, your eyes had always been drawn to him, the mysterious aura he exuded intriguing you, wanting to know more, wanting to know if there was something else beyond that bad boy façade he put up. Or was it even a façade? Was he the asshole that everybody thought he was?

Yang Jeongin was an enigma. You wondered why he changed so much in so little time, and if it really was his intention to do so.

That’s why when he came over to your lunch table one day, you are positive you showed the most shocked look on your face ever.

“Uh, y/n?” He asked, an intense look in his face.

“…Yes?” You answered after you got over the astonishment.

“Would you like to go on a date with me this Saturday?” He suddenly smirked, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

A date? With you of all people? This shouldn’t be right. But he was standing there, next to your table, looking at you with a piercing gaze that left you feeling trapped.

You knew of his reputation. You knew no one had a happy ending with him.

But you felt you could be different. Maybe you could be the person that changed him, the one that made him want a different outcome. Besides, you did use to be somewhat friends. Why not try?

This is why you finally muttered an “Okay. Where?”

“The coffee shop close to school, at 5. Wear something pretty.” He winked at you and returned to his table with his friends, and you felt yourself blushing.

Unfortunately, you missed the way his friends laughed when he returned, the “I can’t believe you did it”, “she really said yes?”, or the “poor thing, it’s not going to last long”.

He asked you if he could be your boyfriend that first date, and you said yes. Was it too soon? Probably, but he had such a way with words and the looks he gave you were so convincing, you had fallen already.

-

A month had passed since that day, and you had been dating ever since. However, was “dating” the right word?

You had never been in a relationship, but you were pretty sure this is not how it was supposed to go.

Whenever you hung out, which wasn’t often as he always seemed to have other important things to do (hang out with his friends, according to his Instagram stories), he never paid much attention to you. Okay, you kissed a few times, but other than that there was zero skinship between you two. His phone always seemed to be more important whenever you were around, because he was always looking at it whenever you two where together.

You attributed it to him having a bad day, or he just wasn’t that much into showing affection.

Whenever you texted him, he always replied hours later and either with dry sentences or one word texts. The few times you had talked over the phone, he sounded bored or cut the calls short.

You attributed this to him being busy.

Despite all that, doubts sometimes appeared in your mind. If he treated you like this, what was even the point of dating him?

When you voiced your complaints to him, he always said you were overreacting or that the things you said weren’t true. Then he usually left the scene, taking a bit of your heart along with him.

The thing is, Jeongin always reeled you back in. You listened to the infrequent but captivating words he said to you, that you were so pretty, so intelligent, such an amazing person. That he liked you a lot.

And you believed him, every. single. time.

-

That’s how you found yourself here, sitting at your lunch table watching him leave after your small “fight”. However, these fights happened so often you didn’t know you could qualify them as that anymore, as they kind of were the things that made up your entire relationship.

You packed your stuff and went to your next class, where you thankfully didn’t have to face Jeongin.

-

Very much later that day, you found yourself not being able to sleep. Your thoughts were going a mile per hour, and they all revolved around Jeongin.

Was it your fault he acted like this towards you? Were you not good enough for him? Was it just his behavior, and you needed to accept it?

Whatever it was, you didn’t deserve this.

You don’t know what took you so long, maybe you were just realizing now, laying on your bed at 3 in the morning, that you were exhausted emotionally and it was all because of him.

You had tried to get him to open up, to show affection, to be a good girlfriend, and you only got coldness in return.

And you had enough, you determined right before falling asleep.

-

Not going to lie, you were a bit afraid to face Jeongin the day after.

You had come to the decision of breaking up with him, and hopefully make him realize how much his actions can affect other people.

When you entered your classroom, you immediately spotted him in his typical corner, chatting with his friends.

Scratch what you said earlier, you were really scared.

You slowly approached them, and tapped Jeongin in the shoulder to get his attention.

“Oh, hi y/n,” he said, turning away immediately.

“Can I speak with you?” You muttered.

“Maybe later? I’m kind of in the middle of a conversation.”

You sighed. This couldn’t wait longer, or you’d talk yourself out of it.

“Please? Can we just talk in private for a minute?”

It was his turn to sigh. “Be right back.” He told his friends.

You both went outside, and stood by some lockers. You took a deep breath, and just started talking.

“I’m tired of this.” You deadpanned.

“Tired of what?” He said, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there.

“Of this relationship, if you can call it that. I’m tired of putting up with you tearing me down, of you making me feel like I’m such a bother and so clingy, when in reality I was just trying to see if you were more than all the rumors about you. I was foolish enough to think you weren’t just an asshole, I thought I could uncover something good underneath all of this,” you gestured vaguely at him, “but I was wrong. You gave me nothing Jeongin, I gave you all of me and you gave me nothing. Hell, did you even care a little bit about me?”

He looked stunned at your words, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You just continued.

“I suggest you look at yourself and your actions and realize you can’t go around treating people like that, Jeongin. You’re never going to have a stable relationship if you never open yourself up to someone, much less if you treat them how you treated me. I don’t know why you even asked me out in the first place if you were just going to be like that.” You finished, breathing heavily.

Jeongin stayed in silence for a few seconds, the spoke. “My friends said that if I asked you out, you’d probably say yes. I was bored, I guess.” As soon as those words came out of his mouth, he looked really ashamed, as if he had just realized what he had done.

“As if that makes things better. I truly hope you realize what an asshole you are, and try and change for the better. Bye, Jeongin.” With that, you entered the classroom and went directly to your seat, evading curious gazes from your classmates and just starting to take your things out of your backpack.

You saw Jeongin enter the classroom a few seconds later, looking kind of stunned. As soon as he sat down and showed his back to you, you slumped on your seat and released a big breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. The realization of what you had just done came down on you, and you felt rather proud of yourself. Maybe you had been able to talk some sense into him, as it was probably the first time someone broke up with him, and not the other way around.

Either way, you felt like a huge weight was lifted of your shoulders.

-

A few weeks after having broken up with Jeongin, you felt like you saw a change in him. He had been able to stay out of trouble for more than a month, which was probably a new record for him. He didn’t hang out with his old friends anymore, and seemed to be more kind towards everyone, even sparing a few smiles from time to time.

Could your words really have had an effect on him?

You were wondering this while you had lunch, when you suddenly felt a presence standing next to your table. You looked up and saw Jeongin, who had approached you the same way he had when he asked you out. Other than this time, he didn’t look so cocky.

“Y/n? Can we talk?” He muttered.

And exactly as last time, you were shocked. You recovered quickly though.

“And why would I want that?” You asked, as you hadn’t forgotten the way he had treated you, despite his sudden change in attitude.

“Please?”

Okay, hearing him out couldn’t hurt. “What is it?”

“After we broke up, I stayed up all night just thinking about how bad I treated you. And first of all, I want to apologize for everything. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m trying to change. My friends really influenced my actions, and I know I shouldn’t make excuses for myself but I really wanted to fit in with them. I’m just trying to reverse my behaviors, because I’ve now noticed how bad they were.”

He took a deep breath, and continued. “I know I’m taking a long shot here, but I’ve now realized that you were the only one that tried to see something in me. Even if you broke up with me, before that, you tried. And that just made me feel worse, because I just never really cared. But now, I was wondering if maybe… we could try again?”

To say you were speechless was an understatement.

You observed him thoughtfully, and he did seem sincere. You contemplated his words for a few seconds before answering.

“Jeongin… While I’m really happy to know that you’re changing, I can’t be with someone who treated me the way you did. I’m sorry, but it’s not something I would put myself through again, because I just don’t trust you.”

You saw his face fall a little.

“I understand,” he finally said.

You felt a little bad for him. You knew this was for the better, though.

“I can see you’ve gotten better, so keep it that way.” You started grabbing your things. “Bye, Jeongin.” You finally said and turned around, exiting the cafeteria, leaving the boy behind.

[poisoned-chicken-marsala]

ok so I combined the last things I wrote because they belong together and I was too lazy to post them in the same thing but here we go. Same chapter thing as before, but put together under the cut bc it’s long. Please tell me what you think!

Kara trudged home from the grocery store on a Thursday afternoon. It had been a relatively calm day for her, she had the day off of work and was very happy about that. Or, she felt like she should be happy about it, but she just felt off the whole day instead. She felt like her head had been in a fog and her body felt heavier than usual. It took so long to get groceries, even with a list detailing exactly what she needed. At least the stores she’d been to were mostly empty and she could wander mindlessly. But walking home required thought and Kara tried to engage herself with her surroundings while she made her way home by kicking a rock in front of her as she went. The rock came to a stop at the foot of some stairs after the last kick. The building they led up to was no longer in use and boarded up to discourage people from breaking and entering. Kara smiled slightly when she approached the steps. Almost home.

    When she looked for the rock, she saw someone sitting on the steps and glanced to see who it was. To her surprise it was Narancia, a boy her and her friends had hung out with at the park many times. Did he live out this way? She didn’t know, and never thought it was polite to ask. He was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest a troubled look on his face that didn’t leave, even when he looked up to see who was there. 

    “Hi Narancia.” Kara said with a small smile. Narancia stared at her for a moment and didn’t reply. He rested his chin on his knees again and turned his attention back to the street. Kara’s backpack felt like it gained a hundred pounds when he brushed her off. She stood still for a moment, tilting her head and giving her friend? a curious look. What the hell was his problem? 

    “Are… are you okay?” She tried again, shuffling her feet. He looked up at her again, angry this time.

    “Shut the fuck up.” Narancia snapped, letting go of his knees. Kara’s eyes widened in shock, her face burning. She stepped back on to a lower stair, staring at the patch of plants near where his hand was resting.

    ‘Oh. Did I overstep a boundary of some kind?’ She asked herself. The silence that settled between them lay thick and heavy, like a blanket. A minute passed (it seemed more like an hour) before she looked him in the face again. Kara figured she must have still looked shocked because Narancia’s face fell after a moment. To her surprise, he started to cry. Kara immediately walked back up to the step Narancia was sitting on and hesitated for a moment before reaching down and gently taking his arm.

    “Come on, let’s go to my house. It’s not far.” She said softly and pulled him up to his feet. 

————————————

The walk to her apartment felt like a dream. Kara unlocked the door when they arrived and ushered her friend inside, locking the door behind them and putting her backpack down on the floor. Narancia sat down on the sofa, only looking up when Kara offered him a fist full of tissues. She set the box down on the table and took a seat next to him, their knees touching. The radio on the windowsill played a song she didn’t know the name of, the melody interrupted by bouts of static and Narancia’s heavy breaths. Kara sighed and looked at the grocery bag. They could wait, she decided. There wasn’t anything that could spoil in there. She took a quick glance back at the crying boy. He was staring at the carpet, a tissue balled up in his left hand. Kara reached slowly to rest her hand on top of his. Narancia didn’t move. 

    Eventually, he stopped crying and stirred some time later, pulling his hand out from under hers. She watched him for a moment and pointed to a slightly cracked door through a small hallway when he turned towards her, feeling her eyes on him.

    “Go wash your face. You’ll feel better.” Kara suggested and rose from her spot. Narancia got up too, picked up all of his tissues and shut the door to the bathroom once he was inside. Kara moved her bag from the floor to the kitchen and heard the tap begin to run. Guilt struck her when she unzipped the biggest pocket of her bag. 

‘I should have done more.’ Kara scolded herself and let go of the bag. ‘I can ask him if he wants a hug when he comes out.’ She paced in the kitchen, heart pounding, humming to a song on the radio for what seemed like an eternity when the tap finally shut off. The door swung open. Kara straightened up and looked at her friend awkwardly standing in the bathroom doorway. He looked a little better, it was still obvious he had been crying. She walked over to him nervously.

“Do you want a hug?” 

“… Yes.” 

Kara closed the distance between them and loosely wrapped her arms around Narancia, tightening her grip on him when he hugged her back. They stood and listened to the radio for a moment which was broadcasting mostly static instead of music. 

    “I’m sorry.” Narancia said quietly after a moment, letting go of Kara. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You only asked me a question..” 

    “I accept your apology… Do you want some soup? I was going to make some for myself but I’m sure there is enough for you as well, if you’re hungry.” Kara changed the subject, walking back into the kitchen to her bag and zipped her bag open wider.

    “I guess I’ll have some, since you’re offering.” Narancia replied, fiddling with a pen he found on the counter. 

————————————

He sat down at the table and stared at a poster of a white clown holding.. Cocoa powder? He couldn’t tell, the poster was in another language he didn’t understand. It was a bit hard to see the clown’s features from where he was sitting. The only things he could really see were its open mouth and bright red cheeks. Narancia was so engrossed in the clown, Kara startled him when she set a bowl down in front of him and promptly walked passed him to the TV. She picked up a remote off the table in there and turned it on. A movie played on the screen, the dialogue of the characters clashing with the static from the radio. Kara turned that off and turned towards the TV to see what was going on. Narancia got up from the table and wandered into the living room, brushing past Kara. 

There was a fish tank above the TV and more posters. And books everywhere:on the table, under the radio and in a large box beneath the shelf next to the TV. There were books on things from Hurricanes to Gems to what looked like novels. One titled The Moomins and The Great Flood caught his eye. Narancia knelt down and took it off the shelf, curiously looking at the cover. White, rotund creatures stood out against the dark forest backdrop on the front. He was right, it was a story book. The movie cut to a commercial break and Kara looked over at the shelf, doing a double take when she saw Narancia on the floor. 

    “What’ve you got there?” She asked. He held the book up for her to see, twisting it around slightly so he could read the title.

    “The.. Moomins and The Great Flood.” He placed the book on the table and looked up at Kara. “What’s a Moomins?” 

    “Oh. I can tell you about that after we eat. I think the soup will be done soon.” Kara replied and hurried back to the kitchen to check. Narancia followed her and looked at the white clown poster again up close this time. The clown’s eyes were small and dark. They made it look crazy: solemn eyes and a big grin. Maybe the clown was confused as to how it was supposed to feel and he took a little comfort in that. 

————————————————————————————–

    Kara and Narancia sat on the couch, their soup bowls on top of the books on the coffee table. They were old books that she didn’t care if they got food on them, it would just give her a real excuse to get rid of them. They didn’t know the movie that was  playing, they missed the very beginning. The plot made no sense and they only knew a few character names. Whatever. It was only background noise anyway, along with the occasional clink of a spoon against a bowl. The Moomins and The Great Flood lay forgotten on the table. 

Kara glanced at her friend while she picked her bowl up again. Narancia was watching the movie, resting his chin on his fist and his other hand holding his empty bowl in his lap. He looked much better than earlier, she thought and peeked into her own bowl before he caught her staring. It was empty, much to her surprise. She didn’t remember finishing her soup and after a quick inspection of the table, she hadn’t spilled it. Huh. Kara stood up.

    “Do you want any more soup?” She asked. Narancia looked away from the movie and shook his head.

    “No, I’m good.” He replied and turned back to the TV for a second. “Thanks though.” He added quickly. Kara smiled slightly.

    “Can I take your bowl then?” She extended her arm for it. Narancia nodded once and handed it over, stretching out over the length of the couch. Kara snorted and grabbed it from him, picking up his spoon off the middle cushion and walked into the kitchen. She filled the bowls with water and left them on the countertop. When she returned to the living room, she decided she was going to actually pay attention to the movie. It was fun to make up reasons certain characters were doing certain things. Of course they were all wrong when the big reveal of the villain’s evil scheme happened and filled in some of the holes in the story. When the credits rolled, Kara stretched, reaching up towards the ceiling. She looked over at the other side of the couch and did a double take, suddenly remembering Narancia was there. He had fallen asleep, his head propped up on his fist. 

    Guilt settled in Kara’s stomach as a heavy weight while she stared at her sleeping friend. How could I forget he was here? Ohdear, what time is it? Her heart lurched when she looked at the clock: it was a little after 10 pm. She went over to his side of the couch, kneeling next to the arm rest,  gently placing her hand on his shoulder.

    “Narancia, wake up.” Kara said urgently. Narancia promptly woke up and rubbed his cheek where his fist had been. Kara let go of his shoulder and rose, glancing at the clock again. 

“It’s, like, after 10 and I didn’t know if you had a certain time you needed to go home or something… I got sucked into the movie and lost track of time.” She admitted and fiddled with her braid. He was silent for a moment.

“I should probably go check in.. I ran off hours and hours ago. They’re probably worried about me..” Narancia said, not caring to elaborate on who he was talking about being concerned over his disappearance for the afternoon. He yawned, causing Kara to yawn as well, and got up off the couch. Kara followed him to the door, where he hesitated with his hand on the door knob.

“Thank you… for everything. I appreciate it and I’m sorry I yelled at you.”  Narancia apologized quietly and stared at the floor. 

“I forgive you, and I’m sorry I didn’t do more for you…. I hope you’ll want to hang out again in the future, when we’re both not sad. If we watch a movie next time you come over, I promise I won’t forget you’re here.” Kara joked, attempting to lighten the mood. Narancia looked up from the floor and smirked.

“Yeah, that offended me so much.” He replied and opened the door and stepped out into the night. Kara rolled her eyes at him with a smile and stood in the doorway across from him.

“Good night, be safe on your way home.” She said, holding the door open when he let go.

“I will be, don’t worry. Good night.” He said with a small wave and turned to walk down the street. Kara watched him go until he turned a corner out of sight. She shut the door and locked it, walking into the kitchen to get to her room. The soup bowls caught her eye as she passed, deciding she would wash them in the morning. Sleep was more important.

[mndcvntrvl]

02 | The Weekend [part i.]

you ready bih? @rebellesixx (i pray this chapter is decent bc omg)

FRIDAY, APRIL 3RD

The sweet smell of coffee floated around me. Colombian grinded beans wafted into my nose, causing me to wrinkle up my face. I let my eyes follow the bodies of people walking passed me through the Plexiglas. Sunlight seeped right in front of my table in a crooked line—catching my attention whenever Maria would step in it.

“Hey,” I called towards her. Her tiny body stopped and turned towards me with look of mischief. Those big, doll-like eyes looked dead at me, causing me to smile.

“Mama,” she asked, her hands clapped as she did so.

I smiled and waved her back towards our table. “Don’t walk around without me,” I told her, grabbing her hand and pulling into my lap.

We had gotten a booth. The tables around us weren’t suitable for children. High tops with small black, metal legs. But the booths were wide and roomy, enough for me to sit Maria in my lap or next to me if she got to grumpy.

A chime sounded to my right—eyes locked on the person. A smile littered their face as I watched them catch me cowering away behind my hand. When they arrived to our booth, they picked Maria up out of my lap.

“And how is my favorite princess?”

Nadia had wanted to meet up somewhere after last week’s mess. With me being at work and picking up Maria from daycare, and her working at the salon all the time, we had no time except for today. Even then, it would be cut short because Chaos wanted to see his niece and talk to me, again.

Maria gave her a babbled answer before saying, “princey!”

We laughed in unison.

“You been havin’ a good week,” she asked me, sitting down in front of me. Her hair had gotten longer so she struggled to keep her curls out of Maria’s face as she maneuvered and scooted into her seat.

I sighed, rolling my eyes with puckered lips. “Let’s talk about how I’m goin’ to New York in the next five hours.”

“Talia!” Maria jumped at her voice, causing us both to laugh before Nadia ranted on. “Didn’t you just get over one life crisis already? The hell you goin’ over there for?”

“Well excuse the hell outta’ me, I see somebody’s in need of some coffee,” I scrunched up my face as I handed her a menu lying next to me. Her eyes glared at me before she snatched it and began to scan through it. With a childish grin, I pointed at new flavor on the menu. “Try the Belize Cappuccino.”

Nadia tried her hardest not to roll her eyes and give me a scowl as she started to take interest in the tropical advertisement of the drink, but soon failing when she finally looked at me. It never failed; trying to distract her is about the easiest thing to do. Between her and Maria I believe she had the quickest attention span of a fly, which is probably why she’s always trying ‘pay attention’. It never works though. Her eyes scanned mine; I busted out in a slight cackle.

“You not one ounce of shit,” Nadia noted, pointing her neon pink acrylic at me. I ceased my laughter, watching her through tear filled eyes as she gave me her infamous death glare.

“Remind me to do this more often.” I rubbed my eyes and took a glance at my phone. A text from my dad popped up—something unlike him.

“Why you makin’ that face,” at the sound of her question I looked up.

“Huh? Oh,” I shook my head and replied,

“Nah, my dad texted me—“she cut me off.

“Mr. Ramos can text?!”

“It’s Mr. Williams, and yes,” I answered, shaking my head once more. “It’s just an abnormal thing for him to do.”

“He must be excited to see you and the little one, ya know?”

I paused. My eyes never leaving my phone.

“Weeelllll about that…”

When I finally grew the courage to look at her, the face she gave me was priceless. Mouth agape, eyes wide—she gave Maria a look over before doing a double take at the both of us.

“You aren’t taking her? Uh,” she smacked her lips, “may I ask for the fuck why?”

“Stop cussin’ in front of my baby.”

She sucked her teeth, “answer the question Talia.”

I sighed before putting my phone back on the table. A waitress came to our table, my eyes pleading with her to stay just for a while—anything to distract Nadia.

“My I get your order ma’am,” the waitress asked her, pulling out her notepad. She was a cute girl, shorter than me with tawny skin and curly hair. “We have two new flavors, the Belize and Hawaiian Cappuccino.”

Nadia glared at me before giving the waitress a warm smile. “Uhm, I’d like to try the Belize Cappuccino please, hold the whip cream,” she finished, handing her the menu. When the waitress walked away, her eyes were back on me. “Now explain.”

“Chaos wanted to watch her this week, but you know how day care is set up and all that, soo I told him he could watch her for the weekend,” I explained, wincing up my face as if it would help me from any of her backlash.

“Does he know you’re goin’ to New York? A whole thirty billion miles away?”

“It is not that far, and he’s her uncle I’m pretty sure he can handle it.”

“Has even taken care of kids before?”

I sighed. “How would I know Nadia? All I know is that I’m trusting him with his niece for two whole days.”

“And you see no problem in that?”

“He said he was free this weekend, Nadia.”

“The streets don’t know what bein’ free for the weekend is,” I had to pause and gather myself when I heard that come out of her mouth because she was serious. Legit serious. It was taking everything in me to not fall out on the floor.

“You a trip,” I shook my head, pointing my index at her. “Dad wants me to come up there for the weekend and help someone’s PR team come up with some designs for some merch.”

“Extra guap?”

I nodded, taking a sip out of my latte. “I don’t know who it is tho’, that’s what’s killin’ me. Like how am I supposed to have an idea of what I wanna do if I don’t know who it is?”

 “It could be because he don’t know himself.”

“Nadia, this is my father we’re talkin’ about.”

She paused before nodding her head. “True.”

“See,” I pointed out. “I just want everything to go smoothly and quickly. My baby gon’ be all by herself,” I pouted, looking over a day-dreaming Maria.

She looked so much like Christian it was downright disgusting. It was like he chewed her up and spit her out, ugh, I hated it. Those same, droopy lips and doll-like eyes paired along with those bushy eyebrows—it was like looking at his twin. They both even have this weird birthmark right above their bellybutton and the same two beauty marks on their ankles.

I miss him so much, I thought to myself.

“You could’ve just took her with you, but,” she shrugged her shoulders and flipped her hair over her shoulders. With wide eyes, she smashed her lips together and looked down at the table.  

“You shady ass,” I laughed, picking up a wadded up napkin and throwing it at her.

She scrunched her face and threw it back at me. With a sly smirk, she looked at my phone before asking,

“Now it would make sense if it was because of Mister Black Pyramid himself, because honey chile’,” she poked out her lips and started snapping.

“Snap,” Maria asks, snapping out of the little day-dream she was in. Nadia nods.

“Mhm, snap ‘cause yo mama bouta’ get that pip—“I cut her off by throwing more wadded up napkins at her.

“Shh! You corruptin’ my baby,” I rushed out in a whisper, looking around the quiet café before turning back to her with a scowl. “It’s not even like that, oh mah’ god, Nadia it was a year ago—it wasn’t even like that!”

“But he was diggin’ you,” she replied, smugly, her nails tapped against the cherry wood table as her lips smashed together.

“And who’s to say he wasn’t? But nothin’ happened so…”

“Now let’s be honest if you was single you woulda’ been bouncin’ all—“

“And here is your Belize Cappuccino miss,” the waitress caught us both off guard as she plopped the giant blue glass down in front of Nadia.

“Uh,” astonished at the amount of whipped cream it had, Nadia nodded at the waitress uttering a, “thanks,” before waiting for her to walk away.

“Do you swallow or spit,” I asked, my lips forming a coy smirk.

Her eyes rose from the cup to meet mine—her eyebrows raised as her mouth opened. She pulled her head back and placed a hand on her chest before giving me the same smirk back.

“Hasn’t Chris asked you that already?”

“See this what we not gonna do,” I mused, grabbing my purse. “You know good and well I don’t see anybody like that.”

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink. “But if that right person comes along then you betta’ hop on it,” she said in between sips of her drink.

“Can I at least get over Christian first,” I asked, “I can’t just hop on to someone like that, and you know that.

“I’m not sayin’ it like that, I just wanna see you happy.” She pointed at Maria. “She makes you happy, no?”

“Duh, it’s my child.” I rolled my eyes. “Of course she makes me happy.”

“Okay, well I wanna see you happy with someone else besides her,” she said, shifting Maria in her lap as though she were heavy.

“I wanna be happy period,” I replied. I scooted towards the end of the booth, rising from my seated position, stretching. “Listen, I know you’re lookin’ out for me, but I got some things to get through first, okay?”

“You know I want you to be happy, no matter what.”

“I know. Now gimme my child so I can head to this old man’s house.”

 The ride over to Chaos’ wasn’t too long. He said he had moved to a new area two years ago. The scenery wasn’t its usual tenet buildings and corner stores but more elaborate fresh markets and name-brand gas stations. Especially the people who lived here—white, but middle class white, like the ones who could afford to shop at Target and not get the off brand things.

His house was over in Glen Lake, a condominium with houses that could have well been mansions. He told me he lived on Jordan Street, way far in the back—and when he said way far back, he really meant it.

It wasn't a mansion, or a penthouse. But a traditional styled home, like one you'd see off of TV.

The exterior of the house alone held many architectural details, giving it this cozy facade but inside it was the total opposite. Its rock stone material was a beige color while the roof was bluish-grey.

From here you could see the blue curtains draped over the windows, making it impossible to see inside and beside the house was an attached garage. Chaos wasn’t subtle with his cars, he had them all out to see—even the fancy ones he knew he wouldn’t dare drive.

I had texted him that I was parked out front. His only response was to, ‘come on in’.

But I was nervous. It had been awhile since I had walked inside of his home. Yeah it was three years ago in a different area, when we were all in a different space in our lives, but now it just gives me butterflies. Here I am, with his niece walking up to his brand new house with a brand new batch of possibilities waiting for me on the other side of the door.

That’s when I can hear Christian in the back of head saying, “you’ll live, now stop bein’ scary and go do it.”

I stood at the door with a sleeping Maria in my hands. Her sleeping bag and baby bag were in both of my hands; my only option was to ring his doorbell. After a few minutes of not getting a response, I believe my finger permanently stayed on his doorbell until I got a very loud, “hold on! Shit!”

“Who the fu—“lo and behold, the man himself snatches the door open, his face reading irritation until he drops his gaze to the sleeping baby in my arms. “Oh shit,” he whispers, leaning down and taking her out of my arms. “Why you ain’t just call me?”

I nodded down to the bags in my hand, then pointing at Maria. “What could I have grabbed my phone with, my toes?”

He sucked his teeth. “You still mean.” He noted. He stepped to the side, opening the door more. “Come in, the couch is right behind me. You can put all that shit on there.”

I did as he said. Looking around, I noticed the place was really neat and organized—something out of character for Chaos, but then again, it’s been a few since I’ve last seen him.

“The place looks nice,” I complimented, hearing a door close behind me, I turned around and smiled up at him. “The black and gold color scheme suits you.”

“The black and gold color scheme really suits you,” he flipped imaginary hair over his shoulder as he mimicked me, making me flip him off. It only fueled the fire in which was indeed, Chaos. “What else are you gonna tell me? My beard brings out the color in my eyes?”

I cocked my head to the side, squinting my eyes at him. “Well if you trimmed it a lil’ on the sides—“

“Kitchen. Go, now.”

“What about Maria? Lay her down on the couch,” I said, reaching my hands out for her. “Gimme.”

After I laid her down, the walk to his kitchen was quick. It was the room over from the living room we were in. Victorian like drapes hung from the grand window in front of the sink. In the middle was the island, black marble sat atop with gold flecks in it. The cabinets were all matte black with gold handles and knobs. Chaos had positioned himself near the sink, back against it with his legs in front of him.

“You hungry?”

I shook my head, sitting on the barstool adjacent to the island. “No, we ate before we came, but thank you. Now what is it that we so desperately need to talk about?”

“Why you say it like that?” he asked, leaning back more to place his elbows on the counter. “I just wanted to know where you gon’ be at, damn, I can’t eem’ do that?”

I laughed, looking down at my hands. “Nah, I thought it was gon’ be somethin’ serious, but my father wants to see me.”

“And you not takin’ lil bit?”

For whatever reason I couldn’t tell him that my father’s only seen pictures of her. Or gotten the occasional Face Time and one on one with her. Nadia doesn’t even know that and she’s the one who knows everything; even before I know it. Plus I already have enough explaining to do when I get over there, I didn’t feel like doing it now.

“No,” I muttered, leaning forward in my chair. “I’m gonna be busy… as well as he is, so there’d be no time, really.”

“So you tellin’ me…” he started, pushing himself off of the counter all while walking over to me. “Yo daddy ain’t go nobody, family, or nothin’ to watch her while you there n’ shit?”

“Do you not wanna watch her?”

“Now did I say that? Nah I was just askin’ ‘cause I know he’d probably wanna spend time wit’ his granddaughter. Ain’t you got some family up there too?”

“Just my father and his mom. So nah, because she lives all the way in Long Island, plus it would just be a hassle to do multiple things at once and watch her.”

“So you just goin’ up there for the weekend? No loungin’ wit Robyn or nun’?”

Shaking my head at his Robyn comment, I let out a chuckle and placed my hands on the counter.

“One, Robyn is not at all in New York. She’s doing something with Puma this month so she’s across the country. And two, yes, just for the weekend to work on some merchandise for this celebrity, probably some simple graphics and sketches. Before you ask, no, I don’t know,” I finished, placing my hands together and bringing them closer to my chest.

“Okay… You excited to go? See ya peeps’ n’ shit.” he raised an eyebrow as he drummed his fingers on the counter, causing me to narrow my eyes at his fingers; an action that made him slowly stop.

“Eh, it’s just for work so I can’t be overly excited, ya know? Not like I’m gonna be goin’ out n’ shit,” I unclasped my hands to wave one off in the air before intertwining them back together. “If that’s all you wanted to know then… anything else you wanna talk about?”

Our eye contact was very sporadic, it would break and rejoice. In this one moment, we rejoiced, catching the looks of nervousness and nostalgia all in one before breaking it again.

“You seein’ anybody?”

When I tell you I almost lost a lung in this man’s kitchen, I was hacking away. I’m pretty sure I scared him, only because he got me a glass of water and damn near forced me to drink it all until I calmed down.

As I regulated my breathing, I raised an eyebrow at him. “Where the hell did that question come from?”

“It was just a question, I ain’t mean anything by it.”

“Well…” I hesitated. For the life of me I don’t why I did. I bit my bottom lip and shook my head. “No, I haven’t really been in the head space to even think about anyone else.”

I miss my baby. Three years without him feels like it’s been thirty. I get so wrapped up in my thoughts about him that I can’t seem to think about anybody else. If I’m not thinking about him, it’s Maria, and if not her, the possibility of them being together in this sad, depressive fantasy I always have of him actually being here.

In my hesitation, my mind raced a mile of minute. The question being bestowed upon me made me feel some type of way. One, I didn’t know where the question could be coming from. It could have been coming from a curious state or one trying to barge into my life. And two, coming from my lover’s brother, it makes me feel like I’m being ridiculed for even thinking about somebody else.

“So you haven’t even tried to find somebody,” he asked, toying with the empty glass I left on the counter. “Not even a date?”

“Where is all of this comin’ from Chaos? No… I still catch myself wanting to text him when he’s coming over for movie night, for Christ sakes. How am I gonna even have the time to go on a date when I’m too busy watching a child? Do you hear how dumb you sound when you ask that question,” I took in a deep breath when I realized how fast I was talking. It didn’t hit me that I had started to tear up, until I wiped at my left eye and saw a wet mark on my index.

I hadn’t realized I wasn’t looking at him either; my hands were in my gaze until I forced myself to stare at him.

His hands were up in a defensive state as he shook his head. “I was just askin’ lil bit, I ain’t mean to make you upset or nun’.”

I shook my head and swiped a hand down my face, all I could do was sigh and close my eyes for a second before popping them back open.

“Listen,” I said, “it’s not your fault… I’m sorry for calling you dumb. I’m just going through some things right now.”

“You know you can always talk to me.” He opened his arms. “Now c’mere, you big ass baby.”

“I ain’t no baby,” I retorted. I rose from the barstool, and walked over to him before getting engulfed in his long arms. “Let me go kiss my baby goodbye, I gotta go get my stuff.”

  I had never been in my apartment by myself for this long. Maria was either at day-care or Nadia’s around this time. I was usually at work, getting ready to go on my lunch break with this girl named Paula. She had recently transferred from a graphics company from Minnesota and instantly fit right in. It had only been a week or so before we introduced ourselves and by the next week, we had established lunch dates together.

After that I’d head back to work for three more hours. Probably finishing up a web design or doing some clothing mock-ups for a local business.

And still—that sounds way better than sitting in my apartment until one o’clock.

When I got in, I knocked right out. I mean sprawled out on my couch, legs all over the place with my head hanging halfway off for a good hour. Still, I woke up and realized I had two more hours to spare so in good efforts to not end up in a rut, I pulled out my laptop and opened up Photoshop and Illustrator.

When I initially started working with the thought of being a graphic designer, I always thought of it to be an odd job. Especially with few women in the field, it made me question it even more. But as I got older, I grew to have a love for computers and art. Problem: I couldn’t draw; but I took a summer course my junior year of high school on Graphic Communications and got taught the true meaning of being a graphic designer.

With months of practicing and training, by the time I was sixteen I had a certification in three Adobe Programs: Photoshop, Illustrator, and InDesign. My first ever job in graphics was working at this rinky dink store in lower east Manhattan called Dan’s Shirts where you could get anything design you wanted on a shirt; literally. If I wasn’t making the designs, I was screen-printing them all. Once I hit the age of eighteen, I was working over in Brooklyn with a guy who made banners and signs; way more money coming in on that end. Still, I did side jobs for extra cash. Making flyers for parties, covers for mixtapes—I wasn’t well known, but I still was doing something I enjoyed.

Now I have a career out of it. I don’t have to hustle anymore to make ends meet. The life I have now is something I didn’t think I’d ever have when I was younger.

I didn’t think I’d even get this far when Christian disappeared.

So I thank the Lord everyday for blessing me with Maria because without her I wouldn’t be here nor busting my ass to provide her better life.

Are you proud of me? I thought to myself as I allowed my eyes to get adjusted to the bright screen.

My censor moved and clicked around, looking for files hidden in folders I hadn’t opened in weeks. When the name loverboy popped up, I clicked on it hastily. When it opened, five documents popped into Photoshop, each still the same as I left them.

Christian would let me practice my photography skills on him sometimes. It could be something as simple as an innocent selfie, or a full blown photo shoot at times. This particular set of photos was a photo shoot I had done with him in this vintage Cadillac… right before he went missing.

When he was still here, he said he wanted me to make him, “look like a Calvin Klein model.” So I let him pick where he wanted to be shot at and when we arrived at that car lot, I looked over at him with a skeptical look, asking him, “you wanna shoot… here?” It was in that moment I had never seen him so sure of something in his life.

We had only gotten up to five photos because it started raining. So I had no other photos to choose from nor edit—then he went missing. And the rest is history, until I catch myself staring at them and realizing how much he really meant to me.

I closed out the document.

Before I could start looking for old projects to work on, my phone dinged, causing me to dig it out of my pocket and look at it.

My eyes squinted at the unknown number. A chill ran down my spine as I looked around my dim living room. Only light on was the light coming from my kitchen above my stove. Other than that, my living room was only receiving light from the open blinds.

My hands were trembling as I shut my laptop and ran into my room. I don’t think I had even given myself time to breathe until I jumped square in the middle of my bed with my pocket knife in my hand.

I gripped my pocket knife tighter against my chest. My knees were pulled to my chest as I looked around my room nervously. It was like all of my senses were on ten; my ears were picking up on cars that probably weren’t even in front of my complex. Everything I touched felt ten times more real than what it was—I couldn’t process a single thought.

I didn’t even get a chance to send a second text.

“Oh hell no…” I mumbled, screenshoting the text thread before deleting it all together. My body shook, hands shaking as I tried to dial Nadia’s number before giving up with a cry of distress. Instead I just sent her the screen shots and prayed she’d respond telling me she was playing around with me or some shit.

My endless banging never ceased. The outside of my fist started to ache and turn beet red, but I never let up. I was in such a daze I had no idea how I even ended up back in front of this very door—but I knew I had a mission to plan and I needed answers.

“Yo, aye hol’ up—“his voice came from the other end until he snatched the door open. “Lil’ bit? Why you bac—“

I pushed right past him. Tunnel vision clouded me. All of my sensibilities and common sense had left an hour ago. Endless possibilities of murder and screaming filled every nerve in my body until I was forced to face it.

“Talia,” his voice rang in my ear, I could feel his hand touch my elbow.

I turned around to face him. The look of discomfort and confusion wiped across his face. His eyebrows were furrowed as he toyed with his bottom lip with his teeth, three wrinkles found there place on his forehead.

“Where is he Chris?”

My lips snarled up as he looked taken back.

“Who—wha—where is who?” he asked, scrunching up his face and shaking his head.

Snatching my phone from my back pocket, I unlocked it and shoved it right in his hands.

“Where the hell is he and don’t lie to me,” enclosing the space between us, I looked up at him and watched as his eyes scanned the thread. “Chris!”

“What?!” He yelled. His eyes scanned the thread once more as he stuck my phone back out to me. “I… I don’t know what to tell you Talia, that could be anybody.”

I shook my head, snatching my phone away from him “Oh shut the fuck up wit’ that lame ass excuse!”

“Who you getting’ buck wit’?” he asked, “’cause I know you ain’t ‘bout to act an ass while your child is here.”

In that moment, my eyes snapped over to the flat screen television flashing bright lights. Some kids show was on; but my eyes landed on Maria sitting in the middle of the floor surrounded by her toys—lost in the world of colors and shapes.

“Now we can take this in the kitchen.” He pointed at Maria. “See her? Ion’t think you want her to see you like that.”

“Ion’t think you wanna see what the hell is gon’ happen if you don’t tell me what the hell is goin’ on.” I cautioned. “Who else knows about him being missing Chris? Because as far as I know it’s only a few who really do.”

With a look over to Maria, Chaos grabbed my elbow and forced me into the kitchen with him. Upon entering, he roughly tore his hand away before placing a hand on my shoulder and shoving me towards the island.

With my left hand, I tore his hand off of me and took a step away.

“Do you know how crazy you sound right now?”

“Crazy?” I paused, gathering myself before I said anything stupid. “I got some random ass person stalkin’ me and tellin’ me Christian’s alive and you got the fuckin’ audacity my nigga to say that to me right now?” I asked, “Do you know how crazy you sound right now?”

He rolled his eyes, mashing his lips together. “Talia that’s not the point, you takin’ it—“I cut him off.

“I ain’t takin’ nothin’ out of context Chris, facts is facts, and the fact is that someone is lyin’ to me!”

“Who?” he yelled. “You ain’t think I’m wonderin’ where this shit comin’ from too?”

“You sure as hell ain’t actin’ like it!”

“If I knew who this was, my brother woulda’ been back by now,” he smacked his hands on the counter. “Stop makin’ it seem like you the only one lost, ‘cause I don’t know shit either!”

I paused. Speechless—I had nothing left to say. My anger had gotten the best of me and it resulted in me not thinking clearly on what exactly I wanted to say.

“See?” he pointed at me. “Jumpin’ to conclusions n’ shit, stop doin’ that shit.”

“How Chris?” I retorted back, banging my fist on the counter. “One minute I’m chillin’ on my couch and the next I’m getting’ told my boyfriend is still alive and that I’m basically bein’ lied too, now c’mon, what you want me to do? Be rational? ‘Cause being rational ain’t getting’ me nowhere, now is it?”

“Ain’t nobody sayin’ you gotta do anything, but stop thinkin’ everybody know what’s goin’ on.”

“We were the only people who knew he went missin’! How the hell am I not gon’ think you niggas don’t know what’s goin on?” He rolled his eyes at that, smacking his lips before retorting with,

“Because we don’t!”

Time stopped right there for me. The feeling of defeat wrapped me in a blanket made from anger and I let it suffocate me. I let the suffocation of anger and fear fill my chest as I weighed down my options of either, arguing more, or, letting the situation rock because it was now out of my control.  

“Bullshit…” I mumbled, shaking my head. “Listen, I just—I don’t know anymore.” My mouth slowly closed as I ran a hand through my hair. Chest rising up and down, I brought both hands together and intertwined my fingers.

“Don’t you gotta be at the airport?”

I snapped my head up in his direction before putting my gaze back on my hands.

“Yeah,” I answered, unlocking my hands and palming the counter under them.

I had a bitter taste in my mouth. My eyes threatened to leak—but I wasn’t going to do that. I wouldn’t allow him to see me break as such. Anger had me in its grip and I knew I needed to leave before I resorted into my hands speaking for me.

Shaking my head, I pushed my body away from the counter and without another word walked out of the kitchen with Chaos right on my heels. I could feel his bulky body inches from mine, but he soon stopped following me when he saw where I was headed.

“Hey mija,” I cooed towards her, picking her up off of the plush carpet. Her little arms wrapped around my neck in excitement as she left slobbery kisses on my face.

“Mommy’s gonna go, okay?” I whispered to her. Our noses touched as I placed a peck on her lips—a smile graced her tiny face. “I love you.”

As I placed her down, the sound of Chaos clearing his throat made me regret everything about today. With one last look at Maria, I turned towards him but walked for the door until he grabbed my forearm before I could reach the door handle.

“What?”

He sucked his teeth. “Don’t act like that.”

“Listen,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I have to go, make sure my baby is taken care of Chris.”

His eyes widen at the sound of his name before a short, forced, chuckle left his lips. He nodded before shaking his head and letting go of my arm.

“Have a safe trip.”

I couldn’t speak anymore. So I just walked out.

 Below the spectrum of depression is what I like to call “numbness”. Hence, you feel like you exist, but nonetheless, you still manage to feel like you’re in limbo. To you, there is no other reason to feel joy or the happiness you might want to have later on. In that state, it’s easy for you to misguide yourself and wonder what it would be like if you simply, weren’t there.

Would this have happened if I were never here?

If we never met, would he still be here?

If my life no longer mattered, would his fate still be altered?

My mind raced for some reasonable possibilities to keep my dark thoughts away. But each possibility matched one of my depressive thoughts—I wanted a drink. I wanted the biggest bottle of Chardonnay this plane had and I wanted it lodged down my esophagus.

But you’re better than that, I thought to myself.

My tongue laid flat against the roof of my mouth as I gnawed at my bottom lip. I let my acrylics tap on the glass window next to me, not caring if I annoyed anybody. For the time being I needed something, anything, to distract me from the oncoming wave of destruction I wanted to cause.

Chaos texted me shortly after I had arrived to the airport. Never knew the man to be such the novelist.

At the time of the text I hadn’t cared for him as much. Even now, I still don’t wish to speak to him. Call me childish or anything you’d like but I won’t surround myself with people who think of such situations as me playing a pity party for myself. Never have I once came to him with anything about his brother that wasn’t worthy of his knowledge.

Besides Maria, at least.

Now that this bombshell is on my plate, I’m lost for words on what to do. The person knows where I live, they know about Christian, so what else do they know? What don’t they know, is honestly the scarier part to me. Just the thought of Christian being out there alive and not knowing, or knowing a small fragment of what’s happened since he’s been gone makes me sick at it.

What if he knows?

What if he doesn’t? How much will it affect us?

With all the what if’s and not’s. With all the how’s and why’s—I still get nervous at the latter possibility. I get downright queasy with the thought of having to see him in a wooden box before I got the chance to tell him that I love him.

Before I could suck myself into a deeper hole, the plane shook with slight turbulence. Seconds later, the pilot announces,

Flight One-Eighty, you have arrived at JFK.

A smile of relief found my face. I envisioned the look of my father’s face when he sees me. I had so much to tell him, especially with Maria, I just hoped he held as much enthusiasm as I did.

So when the plane landed and I gathered my bags and walked off with the other passengers—my phone dinged twice.

[chickenstuffedwithmozzarella]

Holiii!! I saw the pic of Liam and Honey😍😍😍 Asdfahs. They are so cute! And also, i love Liam's eyes. It'a such a nice colour!! And i also saw the gifs!! I love that gif of Louis.  HE LOOKS SO SOFT. I could cry. And Harry😂😂😂 Its such a mood. I always flip people off like that. Jajajaja. AND THE GIF OF HARRY WITH THE PINK JACKET. 😍He is dancing funny and i love hiiim.  Oh, and i havent read that fic but i'll read it asap and then i'll tell you about it. Promise. Thanks for the rec💖 (1)

Hiiii, Love!!!! I’m so sorry it took me so long to answer! but yesterday I was busy, and when I came home my head hurt like a b*tch, 😖😖. Liam’s eyes very pretty, aren’t they? Everyone likes him better (poor honey). I always flip people like that too, jajaja, that’s why I needed a gif, and I found the best, jajajaja. I couldn’t resist. I’m already rereading that fic,😅. I love re reading things I read a long while ago, bc my English has improved a bit since I came to tumblr, and it’s like reading things for the first time again, so cool.

It wasnt hard being updated bcs OT was everywhere, but yeah. I always try to engage in my friend’s hobbies. & some of them do the same. One of my friends used to be a 1D fan before i met her, and though she is not longer in the fandom she tries to be updated. She sends me memes or things that remind her of 1d. She even watched a video of BG without me knowing/telling her about it. I dont deserver her. Ay, and last week she watched freddieismyqueen videos with me on a free period. I 💖 her (2)

HOW DID YOU FRIEND MANAGE TO QUITE?!?!?! Jajajajaja It feels imposible (not that I have tried…). And she sees things and isn’t intrigued about what is happening?? She should write a self help book,jajajaja. “How to suite one direction: the guide”,jajajaja. But she sounds cool and supportive of you, so keep her, jejeje.

Well, you just described me. Talking in public always end up in one of those two options. I have always wanted to do a road trip!!! You are totally invited of course. JAJAJAJA. Well, it just…happened? Our friend was having a very bad time and he was going through a lot of things and we didnt know how to cheer him up. And then one night we just starting watching a video of AuronPlay reading a fic, and he was happy for the first time in months. (3)And so my cousin said “what if we write him a fic?” And i said “omg, yes”. And thus was born. Its a crack fic. We just put in there his family, his biggest celebrity crush, our friends, ourselves and a couple of animals and started writing nonesense. He hasnt read anything yet, bcs we want to finish it first, and me and my cousin (and our siblings, bcs they wanted to help) only hang out alone sporadically. But we laugh a lot writing it. I hope he laughs too when he finally reads it. (4)

You, your sister and your cousins sound so cool. And your friends too. I’m gonna have to migrate and adopt you all, jajajaj. I’m sure your friend is gonna love it. It’s a recipe for success. Keep me updated when you show him and his reaction,please!!

“How does a gay look like?” Like someone with no toxic masculinity. But i see your point. Judging on looks is not cool. (And i dont usually do it. I watched their behaviour or their words. When someone doesnt ever use gender pronouns and just say “they” “parter” “somebody” im just👀👀👀 i see what u are doing). Yes yes. What you said makes sense. I understood. Dont worry. I have never heard that quote, but i think i could marry whoever wrote this. So much truth!! 😱 (6)

Tbh I never payed attention to that, :/ (heteronormative mind and all that). If I had, maybe I had known about a lot of my high school friends’ sexuality. Looking back, we were just a group of friends, boys a girls, nobody cared about boyfriends/girlfriends (we were friends from 12-16). Then we went our separate ways, and we lost touch. And now I see in Facebook that they are gays and lesbians, and I’m like… :/ we didn’t know much about those things back then. And I hope I didn’t make any comments who could offend/affect them. But it makes me so happy to see them being themselves and living with they’re boyfriends and girlfriends… 😊 I just wish I could have been a better friend back then 🤷🏻‍♀️. But now I pay attention to that. And I always try to show support in a non invasive way. And try to educate people about who they’re been homophobic, or make not appropriate comments… like there’s this boy (around 16) that likes to paint his nails. And I love everything to do with nails. And, at the shop, I comment on people’s nails (if I know them enough, lol). And I always try to say something nice to this guy. To normalize the fact that he has his nails painted (and no make a statement that I approve of it, if someone else is listening, so they don’t make rude comments around me). And then my friend’s sister is Lesbian. But their mother is so ancient-minded… like, my friend has a dit of fat, and she’s always making comment about how she should be skinnier bc she won’t ever find a husband 😒. And her sister is very thin. And once, she was working as cleaner in a /cuartel de la guardia civil(?)/. And their mother was always: hmmm, I hope she finds a good guy there, bc she’s never had a boyfriend. And I always thought: I wonder why, lol. Well, she finally came out to her parents, and while they don’t treat her different (which I don’t know if it’s good or no), they’re like “waiting” she changes her mind. And hoping she finds a boyfriend. Anyway, her mother is friends with my mom, and she comes to visit at the shop sometimes, and she always has a comment to make about what people do or don’t do. And I get so angry 😡. I’m always correcting her. But she doesn’t listen. And I feel sorry for my friend and her sister. So whenever I have the chance I saw her my support, and always talk about these things, lol. (I talk so much about lgbt+ things, that my family associates me with it, to the point that every time they see a rainbow or whatever they tell me: look look! And I just satisfied with it. At least they don’t make so much homophobic comments anymore 😒)

YOUR MOM IS AN ANTI? How? “Why would they fake a baby?” Thats a good question with awful answers. I miss RBB&SBB.😍 (I havent explained that to anybody, yet. But once while playing a game my cousins choose Rbb as his nickname so i choose Sbb and our friends started making questions and we where like? 1d things? Long story, leave it for another day? I’m glad they dont remember it bcs i wouldnt know how to explain that😂😂). Was your friend a fan of 1d too? (7)

Well, she isn’t a nasty anti, jajajja, but she doesn’t think they’re together. Not for nothing special, just that she thinks they would say it if they were together. And since they haven’t say it, they aren’t together. But I’ve shown her the famous Christmas pic, and she doesn’t Thing B was ever pregnant. And I show her pics of F to ask for an outsider opinion, and she doesn’t think the kid looks like Louis at all, lmao. So, I think if they ever come out, she wouldn’t care at all. Bahhh, I’ve talked about RBB/SBB with my friend sometimes, but it’s so bad of a thing, that we don’t come to a conclusion. She isn’t a fans, sadly. But she likes celeb gossip, and I like to talk, so… yesterday she came to visit/ to get her arms waxed (bc that’s my other unofficial job) and she ended up staying for 2 hours. Bc we had see each other briefly lately, couldn’t sit and talk properly in a while. And she always asks me about 1d, bc she knows I love to talk about it,jajaja. And I have a sideblog where I reblog things to show her. And well, yesterday we talked a little about BG, and I showed her the no-belly pic, and she was… 😳. And she thinks louis and Harry must be together, at least at some point, bc the way the touched wasn’t in a friendly way. She now has a boyfriend, and she kept saying: I’m not a very touchy person with my friends or my family, but when I’m with him I always want to touch him or kiss him, and that’s what those two were always doing. And I’m always: do you think that for real, or are you just saying it so I stop talking?? Jajjaja. And yes, she’s convinced they are/were together. She asked me if I think they’re still together, and I told her that now more than ever, but it’s a long story, so we should talk about it another time, bc lol, we were just talking about it for a couple of hours, and we both had things to do. So, we’ll keep talking another time.

Of course, I dont share that info with everybody, but I dont mind my friends knowing. I have this one friend that i bother everytime i get frustated bcs of a fic. I tell him the plot, and what is happening and i cry about it (and he laughs at me but at least he listens). Sometimes i make him choose which one should i read next when i cant decide. (9)

I almost did a fic reference yesterday talking with my friend, and I stopped myself midsentece, and laughed (I thought of you,jajaj) and she was so confused!! But she’s used to my weirdness, so we just laughed it way. And I kept talking, jajajajaj.

Girl, i have 6 dioptres😂😂 Thats what i have forbid myself from reading on the phone. No, i havent read that one, but its now on the list. I’ll tell you when i do! Though it make take a while :( (I understand you. Dont worry). (10)

😳 6?!!?! Please take care of your eyes!!! Stop reading… everything!! Jajaja. No, I’m kidding. I know about people who has 8… so you’re still ok,jajajaj. I have 1, but my ophthalmologist told me I’m very sensitive to change, bc I thought I had 27463 diopters, bc I saw so poorly 🙄🙄.

Yes, i also like IDGAF more than New Rules. They have overplayed that one. Have you heard Blow Your Mind? I love that one. It’s also a single so…i guess you have heard it? You’ll get amazing shots, i’m sure. Honey was sleeping on you? 😭😭😭😭 I love hiiim (11)

I listened today Room for 2 and Homesick, and I think I like them. I’ll have to listen this new one two. For me, to like a song, I have to heard /a lot/ (not as much as Despacito, please). It has to have a catchy tune. That’s why I think a like Carolina, or Woman, or Kiwi, and I don’t understand why people is so fidyfvbure about the lyrics, jajjaja.Honey is always sleeping on me. The other day Liam was sleeping between my legs, and Honey came and just laid on top of my poor limo. And I wanted to kill him, bc liam never comes to sleep with me. They’re so different… but I love them both.

Oh, my little sister. I just wanted to tell you that yesterday was her birthday. She almost cried when she saw that me and my older sister had brought her Flicker deluxe as a present. (We hadnt bought it yet. Dont judge us). She was freaking out just bcs of that and i was laughing so hard thinking that she’s gonna pass out when she sees the rainbow flag her friends have gotten her for Nialls show. And also another pair of Cds. She wont survive the show. Poor thing. But she was so happy 😍😍 (12)You start next week? Okay. I’ll ask again next wednseday. Have a nice daaaay!!

Not judging, you’re amazing sisters!! Awww, poor thing!! She will have an amazing time at Niall’s concert, for sure. And, yes, please, tell her to bring the flag. I’m so happy seeing how people are starting to bring rainbow flags to niall concerts too. And have you seeing that he has taken pics with rainbow flags?? He even brought one to the stage the other day!! It makes me inexplicably happy to say everything covered in rainbows. There was so much at Harry’s show too, my sister said it looked like a pride parade. Hey, Dunkirk it’s about to start khbkhdfbvkjdnfvkjndfv. But, have YOU SEEING THE NEW ROYAL BABY WAS NAMED AFTER LOUIS?????? AND HIS TWEET?!?!?  IM SCREAMED!!!! Dijffvjkbdded. Bye love. I have to feed my cats before the movie starts!!! Aaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!

[amusewithaview]

fade to black drabbles, part one

“i’m a rockstar and you’re a fan who snuck in and do you maybe wanna help me ‘blow off some steam’ back stage because ur A) really hot and B) pretty obviously willing“ au.  Somehow this also became an ageswap au too almost?  I picture Darcy as being roughly 10+ years older than Tony’s 19(ish) in this.

Darcy was sprawled out over the lounger, bass on her stomach while she idly strummed.  She’d caught her breath ten minutes ago, but the break was supposed to last another twenty.  By now, she knew, Jane and Helen had probably spirited their favorite roadie away for a quickie and Skye was probably going over the tech specs for the lighting for their second set.

She briefly considered going outside and bumming a cigarette, but Skye would kill her if she fucked with her voice before they’d had a chance to sing “Hacker/Slasher.”  Of course, she could always - 

There was a faint creak as the door opened and Darcy glanced up to see the back of a tailored jacket and a head of dark hair as a stranger swiftly shut the door behind him.  He stood there for a second, and she glanced over at the mirror that ran along the length of one of the walls just in time to glimpse nerves on the man’s face before he adopted a cocky expression and pivoted to face her.

”And you are?” she asked, raising her brows.

”A fan,” he said quickly.

Darcy squinted.  “You look familiar...”

”Uh, I don’t actually think we’ve met - ”

She skimmed him with her eyes: designer suit, worn carelessly, messy black hair and big brown eyes that were probably twice as tricksy as they seemed innocent, his hands - she had a thing for hands - didn’t quite match the rest of him: long fingers with blunt tips, knuckles liberally stained with black and brown.  Not ink stains, they looked more like oil.

That was what tipped her off, well, that and the smile.

She set her bass aside carefully and stood, watching him watch her as she smoothed her shirt down over her stomach.  “So... how many people did the Tony Stark have to bribe to get himself into my dressing room?”

He startled when she recognized him, then forcibly relaxed himself.  “Fewer than you’d think, security is kinda lax.”

“I’m not usually the one who has to worry about overzealous fans.”

Stark let out a sharp bark of incredulous laughter.  “Oh, wait, you’re serious.  But you’re so - and your music - I can’t - ”

Darcy smiled, cheshirelike, and leaned her hip against the shelf that ran along the length of the mirror.  “Feel free to keep talking, you’re good for my ego.”

“I could be good for more than your ego,” he blurted, then flushed.  In spite of his obvious embarrassment at his own forwardness, he didn’t retract the statement.

She checked the clock on the wall behind his head.  Fifteen minutes till she needed to be back on stage.  “You’ve got ten minutes to impress me, tinkertoy, and if you do...”  She beckoned him closer, smirking when he nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste.  “We can continue this after the show,” she breathed the last few words against his mouth before kissing him.

“seven minutes in heaven with my longtime crush but we get locked in for hours bc our friends forgot about us” au.  Also a college au because I’m a sucker for those under certain circumstances.

Skye thumped her head back against the wall behind her.  “Ow.”

”I don’t think giving yourself a concussion is going to make this any better.”

”It can’t make things worse,” she groused, sneering at her companion.  Her poisonous expression was lost on him, trapped as they were in the pitch black of a locked broom closet.  Who even had closets just for brooms?  Tony-freaking-Stark in his stupid-freaking-frathouse, that’s who.  Skye remembered being excited to be invited to an Alpha Beta Nu party.  Excitement that had faded hours ago.

”I’m sure it could be worse,” Steve said, still trying to be optimistic.

Skye wriggled around, trying to stretch her limbs, settle into a more comfortable position, but the closet was small even before you crammed in six feet something of pure All-American beefcake and five feet whatever of her own special brand of American melting pot.

”Could you - stop.  Please.”

”You’re taking up more than your fair share of the space,” Skye said.  “Budge over,” she insisted, planting both hands against his shoulder and shoving.  It was like trying to move a boulder, only warm and covered with smooth skin and - nope, not a good time to think like that.

The little imp of the perverse that was the source of roughly half her worst ideas popped up, pointing out that getting a reaction out of Steve was at least entertaining and being stuck in the dark with her long-time crush had very swiftly gone from mortifying to maddeningly boring.

”I’m just - ” she shifted around, slipping her legs over his to try and take advantage of the limited space, “trying to get - ” she scooted her butt a little closer to his hip and braced her legs against the opposite wall, “a little more comfortable,” she finished.  It was hard to tell, but she was pretty sure that they were now roughly perpendicular to each other.  Her thighs rested against his as little as she could manage, but she could still feel his heat against her skin.

”Skye,” Steve bit out.

”What?  I’m done moving.  Keep your shirt on.  Or wait, no, give it to me.  I’m starting to get cold,” she complained.  She’d let Pepper and Peggy dress her before dragging her over to the party.  A short skirt and a sleeveless top were all well and good when in the midst of loads of tipsy-to-drunk collegiates, but much less comfortable when stuck in a broom closet.

”You’re cold?”

”Yes, that’s what I just said - eep!”  Steve had leaned over and lifted her - lifted her!  Into the air! - and plonked her in his lap.  She was shocked enough that she offered no resistance as he arranged her to his liking.  Shortly thereafter, she found herself pressed against him, her back to his chest, her legs stretching out on top of his, and his arms wrapped around her.

”Better?” he asked, his breath ruffling the shorter hair that barely brushed her nape and making goosebumps break out all over her skin.  He chafed his hands up and down her arms, solving the cold problem and starting a whole new one.

The imp was back, spurring her to shift, wriggling her hips as she readjusted her skirt to cover as much as possible.  “Well, now I’m just f - ”  She choked, staring straight ahead into the blackness because: “So, Steve,” she said casually.  “Is that a roll of quarters in your pocket, or...?”

He groaned and she felt his forehead drop down to press against her shoulder.

”So... not quarters?”

”Skye...”

”Because, I mean, if it’s not quarters, I’ve got a few ideas on how you can keep me entertained and warm.”

“got locked in a walk-in refrigerator/freezer and now we gotta keep warm somehow” au.  This takes place in the same universe as the drabble immediately previous because why not.

”Why does this keep happening to us?” Skye whined.

”Our friends are assholes,” Steve said, pressing a quick kiss to her temple.  He was still inspecting the door to their make-shift prison.  “At least it isn’t on.”

”So Loki wasn’t in on this one.”

”Probably not.”

”But we’re still stuck here.”

”...yes.”

Skye started fishing around her pockets.  Huffing in disappointment when she found nothing, she swiftly moved onto Steve’s, shoving him this way and that as she groped around his jeans until she found his wallet.

”Sweetheart, I don’t think the credit card trick will unlock - ”

”Ah-HA!” she cried, yanking out two condoms.  “Provisions!”

For the first time since they’d been locked in, Steve smiled.

“you’re a vampire with an aphrodisiac bite and i’m the drunk party-goer you decided to snack on tonight” au.

Jane was trembling, muscles going limp, and would have fallen were it not for the strong grip bracing each of her arms.  “When I asked if you wanted to look at the stars with me,” she panted, “that wasn’t a euphemism.”

There was a throaty chuckle and a brief pressure against the top of her head.  “I know, сладкий звезда, but your enthusiasm was quite enticing.”

She hmm’d, head lolling back against the cool shoulder behind her.  The sounds of the bar were still quite loud, but even so she could hear the shift of cloth moving as her captor shifted, drawing her closer.  Lips brushed her neck again, this time on the unmarked side.  “You’re not... full?” Jane asked, trepidation welling up inside of her.

”Relax, I will not take more than you can give.”

The lips were back, followed by a tongue, and teeth too sharp to be human.  Jane shivered as silky red hair drifted against her bare skin.

”Let go, сладкий звезда, let me show you a different kind of stars...”

“you’re really invested in your tv show/book/etc and i don’t think you understand how much your absentminded petting is getting to me but like hell am i gonna ask you to stop“ au.

Clint was holding still.  So still.  Well, as still as he could under the circumstances.  Those ‘circumstances’ being Darcy’s latest manicure and its continuous, torturous, wonderful application to his scalp.  The instant he’d flopped facedown onto their couch and, not incidentally, her thigh, she’d started petting him.  At first it was just light brushes over the back of his head, a futile attempt to smooth down the hair that always spiked in the back.  Gradually she shifted from strokes to scratches, lightly running her nails from his nape to his forehead, paying special attention to the sensitive skin at the base of his skull.

He was concentrating so hard on not moving, not moving, not moving, not moving, not moving.  It took him longer than he wanted to admit to realize that it had been quite some time since she’d actually flipped a page.

He pushed himself up and glared at her.  “You’re evil.”

She tilted her head to the side, “Something wrong?”

“Evil.”

“You don’t like it when I use my nails on you?” she asked, pouting playfully.  When he continued to scowl, she reached out and slowly dragged her nails from the collar of his shirt to halfway down his stomach.  Even with his t-shirt dulling the sensation, he still shuddered.

"You held out a lot longer than I expected, if it’s any consolation.”

Clint scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder.  “As consolation prizes go, I suppose you’ll do.”