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hoshiseon · 23 days

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✍️ Fic authors self rec!

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to other writers you know. Let's spread some self-love! 💛

ahhh thank u maya for sending me this!! <3

unfortunately, i don't have 5 fics posted here yet 😭but i'll do 2 drabbles that i've posted & 3 wips :p (& i'll give a little snippet of each) MDNI bc some are... suggestive

✦ desire | ot8 vampire!atz fic {snippet of ch.2}

“we apologize for having you wait so long, there were some… issues about sleeping arrangements but whenever you’re ready i’d be more than happy to show you to one of the guest rooms.” yunho says politely with his hands clasped behind his back. the whole ordeal feels like customer service and i have to stifle a laugh at the overly formal way they both speak. seonghwa glances at him out his periphery but just as quickly looks back to me and offers me a polite smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. why he's being so odd is beyond me, seeing as he was the one to bring me here and insist on me staying in the first place. his behavior causes me to hesitate, slowly closing my book and tucking it underneath my arm. yunho still stands with a gentle smile on his face but by the way his eyes flick over to seonghwa, i can tell he can sense my hesitation. i look between the two once more before huffing and pushing to my feet, running my hands over the wrinkles in my skirt. neither of the men wait for me to say anything, yunho turns to hold open the door and seonghwa bows in my direction before maneuvering out the door. i quirk a brow at the space seonghwa left before following yunho out into the hall.

✦ goosebumps | bf!yunho smut drabble {completed!}

“you okay, baby? you haven't said anything about the movie for the past 15 minutes now.” he asked, feigning concern.

you just let out a meek hum of approval, not even really hearing what he said. yunho smirked though you couldn't see it. he let his hands trail up your thighs, playing with the ends of your (his) t-shirt. you took in a shaky breath when you felt his lips close to your ear.

“what’s got you so quiet, kitten?” he whispered, lips now trailing down to your neck, leaving the softest kisses in their wake.

“nothing.” you said way too fast, your voice unstable. you felt the chuckle that reverberated in his chest as his hands were now underneath the shirt you were wearing. he was only lightly touching your skin but you felt like everywhere he touched was leaving sparks of heat. how this man got you so needy for him so fast was beyond you. your eyes fluttered shut as he started to press actual kisses to your neck and shoulders, lightly sucking on the area near your ear.

✦ untitled bbfs!yungi smut drabble {WIP; unedited}

a few minutes later, yunho heard the sounds of soft snoring coming from behind him and turned, the sight nearly causing his heart to crawl straight out his chest. there you and mingi were, sleeping so soundly on his bed. you cuddling with his pillow. yunho had to hold back from cooing out loud as he watched mingi’s head rise and fall with the movement of your breathing, the other man’s mouth hung open as he snored. in truth, the scene was nothing new. yunho had an entire folder on his phone filled with pictures of you and mingi napping together. if you came over while yunho was out teaching a dance class, it was almost guaranteed he’d come back home to see the two of you huddled up under blankets on the couch with an anime long forgotten on the TV. but never once had he seen it happen right in his own bedroom, on his own bed. it sent a tingly warmth through his chest as he thought about how nice it’d be to come home to this everyday. his two favorite people in the entire world, finding comfort in his space.

✦ movie night | bff!junhui smut drabble {WIP; unedited}

even though it's not a created album, the hidden album highlighted in blue text underneath your other albums catches his attention. jun imagines what you could possibly have put in there and snorts a laugh to himself. it's probably embarrassing pictures you have of yourself or the boys, or maybe inappropriate memes. he figures he's got nothing to lose and clicks the album. of course, it's locked but he knows you well enough and he's smart so figuring out the password takes him barely 2 seconds. his suspicions are confirmed as he scrolls up through the album and sees a multitude of pictures you've taken of the other boys. but as he scrolls further the pictures change… now he's looking at pictures of you, some taken in your mirror with your ambience lighting set on purple or red, some taken while you're in bed, and they're nothing scandalous maybe a little suggestive but really why do you even hide these? none of them are even that bad… junhui stops in his tracks, thumb hovering over your phone. the photos he's looking at now can't be you. there's no way. his sweet, quiet, funny, inexperienced best friend cannot possibly have taken these pictures. but as he presses one to enlargen it, he sees that it most definitely is you. you half-naked, sitting up on your knees with a pillow stuffed in between the space created by your legs and the mattress. the hem of the large tee you're wearing is in your mouth as you display the sexy set of black lace underneath. jun feels like he might die. he swipes. the next photo isn't any better. in fact, it's much worse and as he continues swiping he has an inkling that the rest of the album is like this too. raunchy, lewd photos of you in your bed or bathroom. some your tits are fully on display, some you're only in a large tee, some you're only in lingerie. and all of them make his head spin and blood rush straight to his cock.

✦ sharing is caring | poly, bfs!gyuhao smut drabble {WIP; unedited}

“uhm… yeah i’m fine… just thinking.” you said, nerves getting to you and making you opt out of saying what was really on your mind. you knew it was silly to still be nervous around the two of them but you couldn’t help it. you could feel the energy in the tiny kitchen of your guys’ apartment shift as the tension only grew with the prolonged silence. the two knew you well enough to pick up on not only the nervous lilt in your voice but also your body language. the way you were shifting your weight, avoiding eye contact, and picking at your clothes all clear indicators that there was definitely more than you were actually saying.

“___, you can tell us whatever’s on your mind,” you looked up at minghao as he spoke gently to you. “when have we ever judged you?” he asked, head tilting slightly. you looked away again, drawing in a dramatic breath and looking up towards the ceiling. damn him and his extremely convincing eyes.

“i was… i was thinking about the last time we were all together.” you rushed out still staring up at the ceiling, refusing to look at either of them as you finally confessed to the thoughts plaguing you.

minghao knew exactly what you were talking about. he did the moment he picked up on how nervous you were, he just wanted you to admit it. mingyu, on the other hand, was still trying to decipher what you were (not) saying.“...what about it?”, mingyu piped up, expression resembling a confused puppy with the way his head was still tilted. he was trying to recall the last time you were all together… oh. you and minghao saw the realization hit him as his eyes flicked between the both of you. hao smirked amusedly before looking back at you. you finally made eye contact with him, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

★ note: this drabble is actually for @angelwonie (in response to an ask she sent a while ago) I PROMISE I'LL GET TO IT BAEFIE 😭

#this is....long lmao #but i had fun!!#lmk what u guys think abt the lil snippets i posted #bc maybe it'll give me motivation to finish them :)#🪐 — hey buddies!#🪐 — love & letters #🎧 — maya!#ateez fics #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #poly ateez x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fics #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #poly seventeen x reader

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scarletsaphire · 7 months

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Mikey has been the DM for his Dungeons and Dragons group for ages. But that changes today; the local game store is holding an event, which means that he is finally going to get to play! The sorry sucker that's been assigned their DM, named Edgar, will have no idea what hit them.

---

And the other definitely not forgotten one @phantasycentral

"Are you excited?" Nathan asked as he walked down the street next to Mikey, holding his folder close to his chest.

"Am I excited," Mikey repeated in a mocking tone. "Of course I am! I've been stuck as you lot's dungeon master for five years now. Finally, I'll be able to be a player and join in your game ruining shenanigans!"

"Hey!" Caroline said. "We don't ruin any of the games."

"Yea," the other Nathan, or Nate as the gang tended to call him, added. "We enhance it!"

Mikey stopped in his walking to turn and look Nate in the eye. "You caused a black hole by sling-shotting a bag of holding into another bag of holding, ending the big bad instantly, and causing a TPK. On session four."

"Ok, but it's your fault we had two bags of holding," Nathan argued.

"It was not!" Mikey protested. "You guys are the ones who broke into the Grand Wizards Tower the second it was introduced, and then robbed him blind when he tried to stop you!"

"I mean," Caroline said, "You are the one who gave him two bags of holding."

"He made them!" Mikey was nearly yelling at this point. "He was the maker of like, all the enchanted items in the land, of course he'd have two bags of holding!"

"Still your fault," Nate said.

Mikey tugged at his hair. "This is exactly why I am so excited this event is happening. If I have to run one more game with you dunderheads as my party I'm going to lose my mind."

"I thought you already lost your mind when I made that Tabaxi?" Caroline asked, grinning deviously in a way that she only ever did around them. She was normally very self concious about her braces, but apparently bashing orcs heads in with a great axe made for great bonding experiences.

"Oh yea, that one that could run like, 300 feet in a turn!" Nathan said. "I remember that! You ran circles around that Dragonborn, literally!"

"I did!" she preened. "And I distinctly remember you saying that it was the final nail in the coffin of what was left of your sanity."

"I got it back," Mikey sniffed. "Because I'm just better like that."

"If you were than you wouldn't get so hung up on us just having some fun with your games," Nate said, elbowing Mikey in the side.

"Whatever," Mikey grumbled. "Hopefully, whoever is our DM for this event is someone really good, and our schedules will line up, and they can take the curse of Forever DM away from me."

"Well, we're about to find out," Nathan said, coming to a stop in front of the game store. "You all ready?" The group traded determined nods, and made their way into the building.

It was populated, but not full. A number of people were sitting at fold out table in the rear end of the store, just visible through the shelves of board games, RPG books, and fancy dice. A middle aged man stood behind the counter, helping a young woman buying a pack of Pokemon cards. He waved to the lot of them when they came in briefly, before returning to the transaction. They all hovered at the counter, waiting for him to be finished.

It didn't take long before the woman was happily on her way out, Pokemon cards in hand, and the man turned to the four of them. "Howdy folks!" he said, voice thick with a southern accent. "Y'all here for the D&D stuff I take it?"

"Uh, yea," Mikey said, shuffling his feet awkwardly. "We uh. We signed up online?"

"Yup, most did," he said. "My name's Chris, I run this place with my sister. Give me just a second to pull up the list and..." Chris clicked a few buttons on his computer. "Ok, it looks like you'll be playing with Edgar. He's the fella in the purple jacket, right back there." Chris nodded his head towards the back, where, just as described, a man sat at the head of one of the empty fold out tables, a DM screen in front of him and a play mat stretched out across the table.

"Ok," Mikey said. "Uh, thank you!" With that, he led the group the rest of the way into the game store. Edgar looked nice enough; he was on the paler side, with dark black hair and a well kept goatee. He had also set up the map pretty well, at least from Mikey's perspective; most of it was covered with papers, which he presumed would be removed while they explored. When the three of them approached the table, Edgar looked up and smiled at them.

"Aw yes, you must be my adventurers!" he said. "I'm Edgar, and I'll be the story writer for the evening. I assume you have all created characters for the evening?"

Mikey and the rest of the group gave a variety of affirmatives, as they all took their seats at the table. "Do you want to take a look at our character sheets before we get started?" Nathan asked, pulling the paper out and holding it out to Edgar.

Edgar waved the paper away. "There's no need. I'm sure I will become... properly acquainted with all of your characters by the end of this story. Now, are you all ready to start? I promise, it will be an adventure to die for."

Mikey caught Caroline's eyes from across the table. She looked nervous. They all did; none of them were exactly what would be described as sociable, outgoing people, so it was only natural that they'd all have some kind of social anxiety in this situation, but there was something off about Edgar. Something about the way that he spoke...

Mikey took a deep breath. His mom had been getting on his case lately, about needing to get out of his comfort zone more. She probably meant to start playing a sport or something, but this counted. Maybe Edgar was just as nervous and socially awkward as they were, and just had an odd way of saying it? "We're ready," Mikey said.

"Wonderful. Then let us begin."

---

Mikey couldn't say at what point during the exposition things started to get weird. Edgar was a very good storyteller, so for a while, it just seemed like he was painting a very vivid picture of the forest laid out before them, vivid enough that Mikey could see the towering trees and dappled sunlight on the ground. And then he could smell the clear, cool air, and hear the bird song and the wind rustling in the leaves, and feel the dirt on the ground beneath his leather boots, and Mikey was no longer just Mikey, he was Erdri, his dragonborn paladin.

"What..." Nathan, a half-elf cleric named Vaeril. "What happened? How are we..."

"Ok cool so I'm not just going crazy," Nate said. His spoke with a lisp, his half-orc tusks making the softer sounds of Common awkward.

"Not unless we all are," Caroline replied. Mikey almost missed her; she was a halfling rogue, which made her very, very easy to miss. "You don't think..."

"That I was a ghost?" It was Edgar's voice, coming from a squirrel in the trees. "If you didn't, you'd be wrong. You can call me Ghost Writer, and I've decided to play my hand at this new form of collaborative story telling. You will be my test group! How lucky you are."

Nate drew his great-axe from behind his back. "You let us go right now! You won't get away with this!"

"Oh, none of that," Ghost Writer replied. "If you won't play fair, than neither will I." Nate tripped and fell face first on the ground, the great-axe flying from his hand. "All you have to do is finish this adventure. That's what you agreed to do, is it not?"

"Not like this!" Nathan complained.

"Tomato, tomato," Ghost Writer said. "You agreed, and now you have to see the story to the end. Be careful! I'm not planning on going easy on you." The squirrel lost the imprint of Ghost Writer's features, returning to existence as a completely regular squirrel.

"We're gonna die," Caroline said, just above a whisper. "We're totally going to die!"

"No, we're not," Mikey said. The strength in his voice surprised him. "We're going to win."

"How can you say that?" Nate asked, brushing the dirt off of his face. "We've never done anything like this before!"

"Yes, we have! We've been playing Dungeons and Dragons for years. You all are experts at breaking a DM's story, and I know all the tips and tricks about DMing that there is to know. This "Ghost Writer" won't know what hit him."

"Ok," Nathan said, taking a deep breath. "Ok. I believe you. But why the hell do I believe you."

"I rolled like, an 18 in charisma."

"That'll do it."

"Onwards and upwards?" Nate held his hand out between the four of them.

One by one they all added their hands to the stack.

"Onwards and upwards!" They said the cheer unanimously, throwing their hands up in the air. Together, they made their way deeper into the forest, where adventure awaits.

#danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #phantasy phest 2023 #mikey danny phantom #I do not think a single other character has a tag. I dont even know if mikey actually has a tag!#take it.

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ipromiseimawriter · 6 months

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WIP TITLE GAME

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Tagged by @zahnie - thank you omg!!

From most recently worked on to least (roughly): (I tend to be pretty literal with these for the most part, if they don't already have a title)

destiel fix it fic - draft 2: is what it says on the tin. I will get to chipping at the end of this godforsaken series, so hELP ME. I do have a fancy lil summary though (this could get edited later but y'know!!):

“What are you doing? Dean, no–!” “You asked me to stop you. So I’m stopping you.” ( As promised, the Empty came for Castiel when his soul called. When it sang a happiness so profound that nothing else could possibly contain it. But Dean wasn’t ready to let go – and if you were to ask him, he’d swear he had failed Cas one too many times. So when the time came, he sank right down with him. ) Chuck could’ve called it, really. But there’s no biblical preparation for their journey through the Empty. It’s all up to them, now, while Sam and Jack (and friends) race to undo Chuck’s damage to the world. Alternating POV. 15x18 CODA/Fix-It Fic for end of 15x18/15x19 & beyond [15x20 who is she lmao]

destiel theatre bitches AU: an incredibly self-indulgent AU where Dean and Castiel are professors for a theatre department at a (made-up) small liberal arts school somewhere in Kansas. Cas is a new arrival to the department who's making waves (and suggesting some batshit shows for production), Dean's the gruff and well-loved scene shop head/tech professor who doesn't like his toes getting stepped on (jk yes he does), and they're gonna be soooo normal about it (me when i lie). nearly everyone and their mom is in this AU. we have fun here

Welcome to Purgatory: an original work (longform)! a story inspired by my time interacting with SPN/with other horror-fantasy adjacent medias, some characters I've had for 1000 years, and just - fucking around and finding out. I def tried to NaNoWriMo it before, to no such luck, so I just chip at it on my own time. I've got a running tag for it if you're ever interested! (old summary)

Jules Herrick went missing without a trace in the early nineties, and his hunting partner, Simon Villanova, never saw him again. We jump ahead about twenty-five years and realize why he should’ve stayed missing. Victor and Amelia are two childhood friends separated by time and responsibility, reuniting for what should be a normal road trip under less fortunate circumstances - the death of a mutual friend. However, the trip is quickly derailed by a strange pursuer that sends them on the run, and into action. The people who catch up with them to help are not what they expect. The lives their families have led were kept from the two for safety. But between a rogue demon, its lost hellhound, and a secret organization hunting down the missing man and his cohorts, one question must be asked: What does Jules Herrick want with the end of the world, as they know it?

go catch a sunset (stanford-era dean/the outsiders bullshit): a Stanford-era Dean fic (which has 2 chapters up!) that I sort of use as my lil swimming pool for figuring ideas out? Mostly just speculation and big character thoughts on that very vulnerable time. I'm v much looking forward to introducing both Bobby and Cassie soon, getting some Winchester drama, and picking at those good backstory characters.

mama barracuda (WIP title - eldritch horror type shit): an original work (short story). "There's a monster in the woods, just off the beaten path from Hope's home. She isn't the first to be trapped into position of Keeper for the Barracuda of the Backwoods, but she is the first - in a very long time - to truly understand her. They call her Mama." So essentially - monster collects teeth for her own rotting mouth. Sisyphean effort on the Keeper's part. Symbiotic parasite/mother-daughter type shit. LOTS TO UNPACK.

honorable mention: a bunch of plays and other lil bits that would take me too long to describe <333

tagging: @subtlefires, @disabled-dean , @butchabouttown, @luckshiptoshore , and anyone who wants to play! (this includes all my friends who may see this and go "hey i have wips". give it to me. i want to see it)

#tag game #writing stuff #original work #fanfic #elliot rambles #tagged: zahnie #supernatural #welcome to purgatory

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wh6res · 3 years

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dreams come true | yuta

"soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks." — ny

[ part of the my bloody valentine collection ]

tw. gore, blood, murder, death, killings, mentions of illegal organ trafficking, violence, mentions of stalking, minor character deaths, weapons (a knife and a gun), almost (??) suggestive content but nothing happened

disc. this is rlly fucked up and yuta is unredeemable. i dont condone such acts. this is all a work of fiction and meant to entertain.

wc. 5k

every time you sleep, the void is sickening. it was all you could see, lightyears and lightyears away of pitch black that made your head dizzy and your stomach dry heave. you've always wondered when you'll start dreaming about your soulmate's memories. they were like little secrets, another way for two people to be intimate without even being together. their days were flashing before their soulmate's eyes in the form of a dream. it's as if you spent the day with them!

you loved it, the whole concept of it. it sounded so wholesome and sweet and jesus fucking christ, you've always been such a hopeless romantic.

it was sweet until it turned sour. you loved it until you hated it. it was romantic until it turned downright terrifying.

you wake up covered in cold sweat, panting and gasping as if you've run a whole marathon.

moonlight seeps through your glass window, slightly left ajar for the midnight breeze to pass through – you walk up to it, pull it shut, and draw your thick curtains together. you exhaled, breath shaking as you tried to anchor yourself back to the ground.

with the only source of your light disappearing, darkness envelops you whole. for once, you craved the void. you want that void back if it meant never seeing something like that again – something straight out of your worst nightmare.

"119, what's your emergency?"

"uhm, i think… i think i just witnessed a massacre."

you reiterate everything you saw in the dream – the mahogany door, paint chipping off the drywalls. the doorknob was rusty, so were the hinges, and it made an ominous creak when pushed open. the light switches on, the first you see was a bunch of dirty ice coolers in what should've been the living room, it wasn't even the slightest bit organized. they were everywhere, and the floor looked grimy and disgusting, like there's a stain they can't seem to scrub off. only when your soulmate has stalked closer did you see the labels haphazardly taped on top of the ice coolers.

kidneys. livers. lungs. pancreas. intestines – you nearly vomited on the floor, trying to relay everything you saw to the operator on the other end of the call.

then came the gruesome parts.

their deaths.

they were five people in total. men clad in cheap t-shirts and pants, wearing all these similar leather jackets. some were well-built, ripped in the arms and thighs, but some were skinny, the jackets hanging on their small frames.

they never stood a chance against him.

your soulmate is agile, quick on his feet with outstanding eye-hand coordination. only equipped with a butcher's knife, but it was all he needed to take them down and send them knocking on inferno's gates. he was skilled, knowing when to pounce and where to slash his knife to maim but never to kill. by the time your soulmate was through with them, everything is bloody red. all the victims' eyes widened as they sputtered and choked on their blood – not dead, but dying...

because your soulmate wasn't done yet.

a killer should have a modus operandi, should they not? so he took out a desert eagle, stood before the bleeding bodies, and shot two bullets straight into their eyes. the finishing touch? carving a frown on their faces with his butcher's knife.

the operator only told you one thing after she's made you describe the place for them to track the crime scene down.

"double-check all your windows and doors."

because you couldn't be too sure, not when you have been granted a front seat to the sad face slayer's most recent endeavors.

the detective eyes you with a certain pity. maybe that's why you don't bother meeting his eyes. you sit still on a chair, camera blinking red behind him, the interrogation room is freezing even with the thick jacket you're wearing.

seven billion people in the world and you're soulmate's a ruthless serial killer who took it upon himself to purge the world of evildoers – he was playing god, no wonder the detective is looking at you like that.

"uhh…" he's awkward, fidgeting in his seat. "and you saw this all in a dream?"

"yes."

you've known him only minutes ago. mark lee was his name and he seems to be a subordinate of a higher, more experienced detective named kim doyoung. you don't know whether to feel offended or not for having a doe-eyed newbie taking care of the case, but you pushed it at the back of your mind, knowing his superior is watching on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"did you have, like, other past instances where you dreamt of him? of what he…" mark looked like he was going to throw up. "what he does to his other victims?"

you shook your head. no. "i've mostly just heard of him on the news. i don't think i have the stomach to find out in-depth what the killer does."

mark takes out a folder, features walking the fine white line between looking apologetic or wanting to say me too. "i'm, uhh, really sorry to hear that."

there's a sudden pregnant silence encapsulating the interrogation room. it felt like you were mourning for something, the chains of dread dragging your heart to the ground as it pounded against your ribcage. mark looked like he wanted to say something, but you swore his eyes darted towards the camera in the corner and decided otherwise.

"anyway…" he trails. flipping the folder open in one swift motion. "past sightings have given us the sad face slayer's name."

he slaps down a picture of a man, his hair raven and a permanent scowl etched on his face. the quality was shitty. it looked like it was a screenshot taken from zoomed-in cctv footage.

"nakamoto yuta, twenty-five, japanese, and has slipped one too many times past authorities that at this point, it's practically a talent."

and just like that, it made sense why you're here.

your lips pursed in contemplation, palms quaking as your fingers reach forward to inspect your soulmate's picture. "and… you want to use my soulmate connection –" you glowered. never had a sentence sounded so fucking cursed and utterly wrong. "– to catch him?"

mark can't look you in the eye. "yes. he's very elusive. his killings have been happening cross-country and, as you can see, have garnered national media attention. the police are hanging by a thread here. a month in his case and all we got is his MO, name, and that he has this weird god complex on him. if we can't catch him by the end of next month…" he shrugs. "the feds are going to interfere, sooner or later."

"so…" you trail, urging him to continue.

"so, we need as much information about him as we can get and your dreams about him will be able to provide that."

fucking great.

the much newer revelations of precisely who it was on the other end of the soulmate connection put a significant damper on your mood. you'd like to think your new little cop buddy who follows you around gives you the least bit sense of security, but alas, it doesn't. not when you've seen first hand how yuta took down five men all at once without breaking a fucking sweat – you absolutely refuse to call him your soulmate, you'd never accept a person with his nature as a soulmate.

you try to hide the bracelet mark handed you last two weeks ago, during your time spent in the precinct's interrogation room.

"please have this on you at all times until we catch him, okay? this is for extra measures, just in case something happens to the cop assigned to guard you. just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?"

considering you're now probably being hunted alive for snitching on a serial killer? mark lee, that was not funny at all.

"do you have to get inside the lecture with me?" you whine, shielding your face with your hair when you notice people shooting glances at the rather handsome cop they assigned to you. "it's not like he'll attack in broad daylight! and in a fucking classroom, for that matter."

jaehyun looks just about ready to hurl you out the window. "lower down your voice," he scolds. "serial killers don't pick a time and place, sweetheart. he kills when necessary and if it's fucking necessary to murder everyone in that classroom to get to you? he'll do it in a fucking heartbeat."

you sigh when the chair next to you screeches against the floor, the aforementioned male taking his seat right next to you. jaehyun felt more like a babysitter than a cop, who seems to have a habit of constantly inputting his not-even-needed opinions on the most superficial things.

are witness protection protocols like this?

it was a good thing that overgrown bat doesn't come hanging around in your apartment, but he does have the police car parked right across the building's entrance. judging by how meticulous and thorough he seems to be, he won't miss any face that comes in and out of the building.

you didn't forget exactly why you're under witness protection. for the cops to waste one good officer to follow you around, you needed to be valuable and being valuable meant sleeping through nightmare-induced dreams of what your soulmate does for a living. the scenes are so gruesome, so graphic and utterly gory, that you dart towards the bathroom first thing after waking up in cold sweat, draining all of dinner down the toilet bowl.

after dreaming of him in action a few times, you've now completely understood what detective lee had said regarding yuta's god complex. it was unsightly, yet there was a twisted sense of heroism to it. if there's one thing, he only gutted the bad guys – but that didn't make nakamoto yuta any less of a bad guy, himself.

i need to ask you a favor [sent 2:05am]

JJH: what? [received 2:10am]

often the nightmares were too much. too much that you thought of escaping its horrors by never getting a wink of sleep ever again – until you realized you're a witness and is probably the only chance for the seoul police department to catch that bastard.

buy me sleeping pills? [read 2:08am]

when you peep out of the window, you find an empty spot across the road where jaehyun usually parks the police car. twenty minutes later, you answer the knocking on your door. he used that little "code" he did for you to know it was him. jaehyun was glowering and muttering about how he wasn't some errand boy when he shoved the plastic bottle in your hand yet, you still thanked him nonetheless.

the pills worked like a charm. you managed to stay asleep throughout the whole night, ceasing those episodes of yours where you jolt awake in the middle of dreaming about the sad face slayer's memories.

life continued for you. it became a little bearable, but that didn't mean the horrific murders you see in your dreams are something you can get used to – you don't think you'll ever get used to the sight of him slashing his victims, the blood trickling like a goddamned waterfall.

today the dreams were different. anticlimactic, per se, if you compare it to the violence so utterly present in his memories.

the first you see were black gates, then it shifted to him ordering coffee in a café (amazing what a simple black mask can hide). it switched to him walking on a sidewalk, then he arrives at his destination, an apartment building – it wasn't too rundown, nor was it extravagant.

the serial killer takes the elevator and walks up to a mahogany door –

your room number is a blaring sight.

you couldn't be wrong, not when the 506 with the missing zero in the middle was a sight you saw every day, going and coming home from university.

that was your front door.

he was at your front door.

you jolt awake, ignoring the icky feel of sweat making your clothes cling onto your skin. ice creeps up your spine and freezes you over when you notice with a sinking realization.

those black gates are from the university you attended. that café is your favorite study nook. and that sidewalk is a route you take every day.

you clamp your hands on your mouth as tears roll down your cheeks in rivulets. you pull the comforters up above your head, fear gripping onto you with a vice-like grip as you sob.

it was in the dead of night, moonlight grazing the confines of your room and hours away from dusk. you finally utter those three words in a frightened whisper.

"he's stalking me."

as if having the overgrown bat jaehyun following and annoying you around wasn't enough, you now have another person keeping watch over you. mark lee, unlike jaehyun, may not be as ripped with muscle, but you heard from your cop buddy that the young detective has a few black belts under him. people at the precinct said that if they have to choose one person who can ever come close to the sad face slayer's agility, mark lee's your guy.

"you gotta be shitting me," you mutter, leaning close to jaehyun to whisper like high school girls talking about gossip. "he doesn't look the type!"

jaehyun, in turn, plays along and copies you. "yeah, true. he gets that a lot, i think,"

"guys, i'm literally in the back seat. i can hear everything."

the change hadn't been too drastic. at least mark was there when jaehyun proved to be difficult, pulling him towards the other way when the older male tried waltzing into your class again. "you don't need to sit next to her in her class! are you serious? there's one exit and entrance and we're on the fifth floor. breaking into that classroom will be the end of nakamoto's serial killer career!"

you shoot mark an appreciative smile, one he quickly returned before hauling jaehyun around the hallway. "we'll just be at the canteen, okay? press the 'lil button on your bracelet and we'll be right there!"

shaking your head with a slight smile on your face, you entered the classroom, sat in your usual spot, and did some of your readings from our other class to kill time. you hardly hear the screech of the chair next to you as it was pulled back. not like you cared much for whoever sat down next to you, but you can't deny there's that feeling of missing jaehyun when he used to force his way into the lecture.

"settle down! settle down, people!"

the professor enters and the class begins.

you were meticulous with your note-taking system. it's thorough, leaving no room for information to slip you. having already printed hard copies of the powerpoint presentation and simply jotting down some extra key points mentioned by your professor.

you were just about to raise your hand for a question when you feel something warm graze past your arm. you absentmindedly look down.

the breath is sucked right out of your lungs.

hi, soulmate

there, scribbled with an ominous red crayon on a small piece of paper. it was almost laughable how innocent it looked but when you follow the ring-clad hand, up the black hoodie he's wearing, and finally to his face—

"hi! i'm yuta."

his cheshire smile spikes up your heartbeat. it makes you want to throw up, makes you want to slam your head against the desk. the fight or flight hormone you have is making you restless, eyes pinned on the serial killer sitting next to you, scared that if you avert your gaze, he's going to take out that desert eagle and shoot you until your skull caves in and the bullets in his magazine empties.

"but judging by your reaction, i don't think introductions are needed, hm?" his tone is easy, conversational even and it shoots a freezing jolt of fear right up your spine. it makes you sweat profusely because you don't fucking know what to do, your thoughts in complete and utter disarray.

"just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?" you swallow, sneakily pressing the button without breaking eye contact with the serial killer sitting in front of you.

"look upfront. now." yuta orders and you nearly snap your neck as you turn your head with lightning speed.

"i thought i was above the soulmate rules, but here we are. my soul is either too tainted or too great to be tied to such trivial things, but oh well, we learn to work with what we have. surprisingly, i learned to like dreaming about how your day went."

you feel something sharp poking at your thigh and when you look down, he has a silver butterfly knife pointed against you. the precision of the angle he held it with doesn't slip your notice. one slice of that knife, no matter how small, and he'll be spilling your guts in this classroom.

a fat tear rolls down your face.

"can you imagine how much my heart broke when i learned you were spying on me? leaking information to that snobby detective? to those incompetent cops? bad baby, that was very bad of you."

"yuta—"

"you think the cops can save you from me?"

his other hand comes in contact with the nape of your neck, holding your head in place as he leaned down to invade your space. he scoffs, and you can picture that terrifying cheshire grin you've seen one too many times in your dreams.

the knife digs through your coat, the tip hardly poking your skin only because he doesn't want to drive it into you yet. how did he even manage to get inside the university? not to mention the weapons he possessed? shouldn't anyone be suspicious when they see a man dressed in all black, clad in jeans and a hoodie, into a university—

he even dressed the part. with that hood drawn up and carrying that one notebook, he looked fairly normal. someone who can easily blend in with the crowd.

you eye your professor, willing him to look at you but your soulmate is having none of that. you squirm when he drives the knife further, at the base of your stomach. with his other hand, he twirls a lock of hair around his finger. "now, now, soulmate. you don't want half the people here to get hurt, do you? unless... that can easily be arranged—"

"no!" you whisper, head jerking to the side to look at him humming in satisfaction. damn. out of all the faces he's seen contorted with fear, yours is his absolute favorite. with those pleading, glassy eyes and parted lips, yuta is tenting in his sweats.

"thought so," he chuckles. "let's get up. we're leaving. that old crook doesn't care if students just up and went in the middle of his lecture."

you don't want to think about how he even knew that because it implied attending the lectures a good amount of times. it's with sinking realization that jaehyun was right. if it weren't for him insisting to sit next to you, nakamoto yuta would've long gotten you in his claws.

you tried gathering your things until he purred into your ear.

"ah, ah, ah. you wouldn't be needing those with where we're going."

the hallways were empty, not that you had much time to scream for help when he had a knife pointed up your back, shoving you into the fire escape stairs. within the tranquil confines of the staircases, the sad face slayer couldn't fucking care less for your personal space.

he disgusts you greatly, he needn't do anything but stand there in front of you but you can already smell the long blood trail from his path. it reeks of rotting flesh and that infuriating god complex he had left a sour aftertaste.

"you know, i genuinely wanted to get to know you," yuta pouts, shaking the hoodie off his head. his hair raven, it's ends kissing the nape of his neck. he looked like he came right out of a shounen manga but the bloodlust in his eyes is something that can never be masked. "i detested the soulmate connection at first, i thought i should just kill you off because you could be my loose end."

his humorless smile is enough to give you nightmares.

"but seeing how sweetly normal and untainted you are made me hold back," the butterfly knife appears before your line of sight, yuta teasingly dragging the tip right down your cheek to trace your tears. "so, why did you snitch, baby?"

you shiver when he noses the side of your neck, inhaling your scent as his other hand hooks underneath your top, freezing fingers making you jolt. when you don't reply, his patience starts to dwindle. then again, he was never a patient man.

"answer me, you bitch. why did you rat me out?" gone is the playful lilt in his voice. the vibrations surge through you as his deep, demanding voice scares you shitless.

you feel, hear, and smell him everywhere. this wasn't like any nightmare. this is real, and you won't magically wake up on your bed, sighing in relief, knowing he isn't there, that it was all just in your head. no, this was very much real and there's absolutely no escape.

"i didn't," your voice cracks. "i didn't mean to—"

"bullshit!" he yells. you wail in pain when he slams you against the wall, head aching as it came in contact with concrete. "because of you betraying me, i nearly fucking got caught, and i never get caught!"

you were full out sobbing at this point, noisy and unsightly as the snot mixes with your tears. your only hope now is he gives you a quick, painless death and that he doesn't carve and mutilate your face like what he always does to his other poor victims. "i'm sorry! please... i'm so sorry. i was scared—"

he coos mockingly, tilting his head to the side as he inched his face closer. "aw, scared? my sweet little soulmate was scared?" he places the blade flat against your neck. as humiliating and degrading as it was, you almost peed on your clothes. "how about now? i'm sure as hell that you're fucking terrified for your useless life right now."

you cringe when his hand abandons the expanse of your stomach, no longer inching higher, finding its purchase on the hair sitting at the crown of your head. he holds you in place like that, forcing your head parallel against the wall, with his whole body pressing up to you that it's nearly suffocating.

"just one quick little slice," he taunts. you hiccuped when you feel the feathery light scrape of the blade moving against your skin. "you won't even have time to scream… but i'm sure we don't want that, do we?"

you forgot how to speak. forgot how to breathe. whenever your mind wanders, you've always thought about how you'll give this killer a piece of your mind, with the amount of fear and sorrow he inflicts upon other people. but you guess realities were a lot more different than expectations. the yuta you dreamed of meeting is in handcuffs, but fate is a fickle little thing.

"do we?" he repeats, slicing ever so slightly at your skin. enough to draw blood in droplets, never a waterfall.

"n – no."

he smiles. "you can make it up to me. do you want to make it up to me?"

the butterfly knife digs even further. a warning. and if you value your useless life, you should be smart enough to know what to answer. drawing a shaky breath, you tried forcing the ends of your lips up to a smile. "of course, yuta."

your voice breaks as your sobbing grips your body whole. the fear consuming your entire being like a parasite consuming the host. you would've shut down altogether if it weren't for the calloused hands gently gripping your face. "i know, i know. i see how regretful you are, baby. don't worry, i won't hurt you. you'll make it up to me."

anyone would be fucking stupid if you believe those words coming from a serial killer.

in your wrecked state, you barely register that he's pushing you down to your knees. skin coming in contact with the freezing linoleum floor as you refuse to look at what his hands are doing. yuta has pocketed his knife. the sound of a belt unbuckling in itself added insult to injury.

you stare blankly at his shoes as he shoves his bottoms down enough for his cock to show. if you squint hard enough, you'll see tiny splatters of blood in the shoelaces. whether or not he feels you're unresponsive, he doesn't show. maybe he doesn't care entirely. he takes one of your hands and used it to wrap around himself. he gasps, sharp, followed by a hiss.

you feel it throbbing and it strengthens the disgust you feel. no way you're going to give him the satisfaction of eye contact when you're already forced to blow this psycho.

"eyes up."

you sniffled, vulnerability present in the tone you speak. "i don't want to. please, don't make me."

if words alone aren't enough for you to follow orders, maybe you'll feel more motivated if held at gunpoint. it's unmistakable, the infamous desert eagle you've only seen in your nightmares. the last thing you ever expected is to be on the side where the bullet comes out.

the barrel is freezing as he digs it into the crown of your head. "soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks."

your eyes looked up then. glaring as the tears rolled down your face. "you're a monster," you mutter under your breath. where you got the confidence to fight back is unknown.

"i've heard that before, be more creative next time," he holds your hair tight in one grip, shoving you forward, eye-level to his throbbing dick. "now… suck, baby."

"freeze!"

you knew that voice, you've been hearing it for the last two weeks. "jaehyun–!"

yuta cuts you off, shoving the gun into your mouth. the safety clicking off resonating in the tranquil room. it's deafening, and it makes you immobile.

"hands up. step away from the civilian." whether or not mark is nervous as he points the gun at the serial killer, he's doing a damn good job of hiding it.

yuta sighs, exasperated as he throws his head back. his raised arms came down to tuck himself back in his jeans, and the action made jaehyun's calm exterior crack. "i said, hands up, asshole!"

"chill out, motherfucker. i'm just trying to wear my pants." the serial killer hisses, glaring at jaehyun over his shoulder.

"mark, call back up already. what are you doing?" jaehyun mutters, side-eyeing the young detective whose gun shakes as he holds it up. the taller cop takes a step forward, eyes never leaving the notorious killer as he addresses you curtly. "(name), come here."

just as you plant your palms to the ground to push yourself up, one of yuta's hands shoves you down quick as lightning. "no. she stays here, with me."

jaehyun scowls, takes another step forward. "and what makes you think i'm going to let that happen?"

"i don't think. i know."

there's a constant ring in your ear as the gunshot temporarily renders you deaf. you've shut your eyes in utter fright, hands shooting up to cover your ears but it was too late. you refuse to open your eyes, you didn't want to see a dead body lying before you, even if it belonged to a heartless serial killer.

but when your eyes fluttered open, it's not yuta bleeding out on the ground.

"no, this can't be – jaehyun!"

it was a bullet straight to the head, no one could've survived a shot like that. his eyes are empty as he stares at you, unblinking, stoic. the color is yet to drown away from his milky complexion. but you can't even manipulate yourself into thinking that jaehyun's still alive. not when his eyes are empty, not when he just looks so lifeless.

it couldn't have been yuta who pulled the trigger.

his weapons were on the ground and the shot rang too fast. the sad face slayer couldn't have crouched down for his gun to shoot the cop, it would've taken too much time. and among the three men, there's only another person holding a weapon, and that was –

"great shot, mark."

the detective smiles, but with the blood splattered on his face, it looked cold. "told ya i've been practicing."

yuta hauls you up by the arms, addicted to how frail your body feels as it collapses against him. he's finally got his little soulmate in his arms. and he will never, ever let you go.

the cops lost – you've lost.

yuta, with a sense of victory coursing through his veins, took the liberty of trailing little pecks down your neck as he mutters, "mine, mine, mine!" but you couldn't care less about his display of mocked affection. not when the other person meant to protect you, turned out to be everything you think he wasn't.

mark must've felt the gravity of your stare as he crouches before jaehyun's bleeding body. grabbing the fallen cop's gun, he took it upon himself to empty the magazine. the lopsided grin he sends you broke your resolve more than yuta ever could.

"i'm sorry. it's nothing personal."

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watchyourbluesturngolden · 3 years

Text

the shrooms cafe

part 1- watermelon tea with strawberry boba

hello everyone 🥺 this is the first series i've ever done so i'm a little nervous but i'm so excited because I really like this story!!!

this is the first part, and I have literally no idea how long it will be because I don't have a solid plan/outline yet! so feel free to send little concepts or things you would like to see included 🥺 i can't guarantee they will be added but i'll definitely try my best :)

shrooms cafe masterlist

my masterlist

warnings: none

word count: 2k

"Stella, we have to leave in 10 minutes!" You called up the stairs. "Come down so you can eat breakfast!" "Yeah Stella, hurry up!" Seraphina yelled from her spot at the dining table. She was finishing up her fruit loops with a grin on her face. "You're going to make us late!" As the youngest, she often liked to bother her sisters. She was only five, just starting kindergarten, but she was already a master at getting under their skin.

"Sera, don't antagonize your sister, please," you reminded her. "She's not going to make us late." Sophie rolled her eyes. "Seraphina, you're so immature." Despite only being 11, Sophie was clearly the mother hen. You sometimes joked that the girls didn't even need you; Sophie would take on the role of their mother with no problem. "Besides, you were the one who made us late yesterday." "It's not my fault I couldn't find my purple socks. What was I supposed to do?" "Maybe wear different socks?" Sophie suggested smugly. "You know I need my purple socks, otherwise I can't write my words!" Sophie rolled her eyes again. "You don't need a certain color socks to write." "Yes I do!" You smiled to yourself, turning back to the fridge as the two bickered. You pulled out the ingredients you would need to make their lunches, then reached up on your tiptoes to get their lunch bags from the top of fridge. "Okay girls, what kind of sandwiches do you want today?" "Peanut butter and jelly!" Seraphina said excitedly. "Why did I even ask?" You smiled. "And Sophie?" "Turkey please, but I can make it myself," She said, sliding off her chair and bringing the breakfast dishes to the sink. "Thank you, love," you said, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. "You are such a big help in the mornings, I don't know what I would do without you." "You would have a real handful dealing with those two," She said matter-of-factly. "That I would," you laughed, handing her a butter knife. "Stella!" you called again. The 8 year old came running down the stairs, carrying her backpack and another bag. "Did you forget I have dance today?" "I did not forget," you reassured her. She liked to plan things, and got worried quickly if she wasn't kept in the loop. "I'll pick you up at the door by the playground, does that work?" "Actually, I was wondering if I could walk today? A bunch of my friends do, and I feel kind of weird having my mom drop me off." "That should be fine," You nodded. "But stay with the group, don't go off by yourself." "I won't," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "You're so overprotective." "Oh yes, I'm so sorry for trying to keep you safe," you laughed. "Now what do you want for lunch?" Once everything was ready, the four of you made your way out to the car. Stella climbed into the back, and Sophie helped Seraphina get buckled. Even though the three of them bickered a lot (as sisters often do) it wasn't hard to see how much they loved each other. "Everybody buckled?" You asked, looking behind you. When you heard a chorus of confirmation, you started your playlist and smiled when the opening notes of Adore You filtered through the speakers. It was easily one of your favorite songs, and the girls liked it just as much as you did. It wasn't a long drive to the cafe; it took about 15 minutes if traffic was good. The girls' school bus stopped about a block away, so they walked there together every morning. Then after school, they would come back to the shop and read books or finish homework until it was time to close up and go home. You parked in the lot behind the shop, helping the girls out of the car and making sure they had all their things. Seraphina held out her hand, and Stella grabbed it to help her jump over a puddle on the sidewalk. Sophie gasped excitedly. "I think that was the biggest jump you've ever done!" The girls promptly launched into a discussion about who could jump farther as you unlocked the door. As soon as it was open, they made their way over to the mushrooms to find some books for the day. Their voices filled the shop as they chatted about school and the cute boy Stella liked and the kitten they had seen outside their house the other day. You went about your morning duties, flipping on the lights and starting up the coffee machine. You also turned on the oven, preparing to bake the muffins. (They were frozen- who has the time to bake them fresh? Certainly not a mother of 3.) Once the kitchen was ready, you went over to the radio and tuned it to a familiar station, the soft

music adding some pleasant background noise. "Okay girls, it's time to get to the bus stop," you said, leaning over the counter to speak to them. "Don't forget, I'm walking to dance," Stella said, pointing at you as she walked to the door. "I won't forget," you said, pointing back at her. "Have a good day!" "Bye mom," Seraphina waved her small hand at you. "Bye honey, bye Sophia," You smiled, blowing a kiss to the three of them. "See you later!" Once the three of them were gone, you went around to the shelves and straightened up, getting ready for your first customers.

-----

After the lunch rush had dwindled down and the shop was nearly empty again, you were getting ready to go on your lunch break. You had just leaned down to grab a sandwich from the deli case when the bell above the door jingled, alerting you that a new customer had come in. You straightened up, your eyes going wide when you realized who it was, but you quickly fixed your face and smiled. "Welcome to the Shrooms Cafe!" "Hello," the man smiled back, speaking in a deep British accent. "I saw your sign for boba tea, and I've been looking everywhere to find some. You're the third shop I've been to today, so I'm really hoping you're not sold out like everywhere else," he grinned, coming closer to the counter. "No, we're not out! What kind did you want?" You asked. "Um... probably should have thought about that before I came in," he laughed nervously, looking at the menu above your head. "Oh, don't worry about it, we're not busy right now," you said reassuringly. “Take all the time you need.” He smiled gratefully, stepping off to the side while he read the menu. Meanwhile, you fidgeted with towels and wiped off the work surfaces and tried to pretend you weren’t staring at him. Who could blame you, really? Harry Styles had just walked into your coffee shop. Who wouldn’t stare? “I think…” he spoke again, breaking you out of your trance. “I’ll do the watermelon tea, with strawberry boba, please.” You nodded, laughing lightly. He quirked one eyebrow, smiling along with you. “What’s funny?” “Oh, no, it’s just… of course you would order the one with watermelon.” “Oh,” he smiled, and you thought you detected a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “I guess I do have a bit of a reputation with fruit, don’t I?” “Just a little,” you grinned. “One watermelon tea with strawberry boba, coming right up.” After ringing up the order, you quickly got to work. Instead of his real name, you wrote “watermelon man” on the sticker on the cup. Hopefully he would appreciate your little joke. “Here you are,” you smiled. “I hope it’s good, seeing as you worked so hard to find some.” “I’m sure it’ll be amazing,” he laughed, grabbing a straw from beside the cash register. You also noticed he had dropped a generous tip into the jar, probably while you had been busy making the drink. “Have a nice day,” you smiled. “You as well,” he said with a small wave before he made his way out the door, sipping his drink as he went. You sighed, shaking your head with a small grin as you grabbed the sandwich from earlier and went to a table for your lunch break.

-----

“Hi mom!” Sophie yelled, holding open the door for Seraphina. “Hi girls!” You called from the back corner of the shop. “I’m by the mushrooms!” The girls quickly found you, Seraphia hugging you and Sophie situating herself on one of the short stools. “How was your day?” You asked. “Good! I gave my report on monarch butterflies and guess what Mrs. Wilson said?” Sophie asked, leaning forward. “What did she say?” “She said it was the best report she had heard all day. She waited until the other kids left so they wouldn’t feel bad, but still,” she said proudly. “Oh wow! I’m so proud of you,” you said, moving over to hug her. “What did I tell you? You can do anything you put your mind to,” you smiled. “Including writing the best report in the whole class, hmm?” She nodded happily before turning away from you to pull a book off the shelf closest to her. “Which one are you starting now?” You asked, leaning over her shoulder to see the book she had. “Anne of Green Gables,” she said. “Oh, I loved those books when I was your age,” you smiled. “I think you’ll really like them.”

She nodded, already immersed in the book. You turned back to Seraphina, who was pulling her folder out of her backpack. “And how was your day, miss Seraphina?” “It was so good, look!” She handed you a paper with two gold stars at the top. “My teacher gave me two gold stars. She said my writing was very good!"

"All that practicing we did must have worked, then!" you said, beaming as you looked at her letters. They were still wobbly, but a huge improvement over how they had been at the beginning of the school year.

She nodded. "And then I colored this picture for you!” She handed you another page. This one had a drawing of you holding hands with her, Sophie, and Stella. The three of you had big smiles and lots of adorable little details. Stella had her hair in a bun and was wearing ballet shoes. Sophie was holding a book in her free hand. Seraphina had drawn herself wearing a shirt with a cat (her favorite animal) on it, and she was wearing her purple socks. Lastly, there was you, holding a cup of coffee and wearing a shirt with a big red heart on it. “Since you like coffee so much,” she explained. “It's beautiful,” you smiled, hugging her. “We’ll hang it on the fridge when we get home, okay?” “Okay,” she agreed. “Why don’t you find a book and read with Sophie for a little bit? We have just over an hour, then we have to go get Stella from dance.” She nodded, handing you the papers and her backpack before running over to the shelves. She grabbed a picture book, settling into the red cushion in the tree and beginning to flip through the pages.

----- “Alright girls, it’s time to pick up Stella,” you said as you wiped off the counter one last time. You had already turned off all the machines and packed up everything else for the day. You flipped the lights off on the way out, smiling a bit when you saw the hand painted sign for boba tea in the window. Harry came into your mind again, with his easy smile, his kind words, and his blushing laugh. You really hoped you would see him again, even though you knew you probably wouldn't. Your shop wasn't very big or well known. How likely was it for him to come to the same little shop in the middle of London again? Still, it didn’t hurt to hope. Maybe he would decide to try the other flavors and stop in again. Your smile spread even further when you started your playlist and Lights Up was the first song to come on. Apparently, it was going to be hard to forget about him.

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