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thrillridesz · 3 years

Text

walkin’ in time ▫ sangyeon

➳ pairing: single dad!sangyeon x female kindergarten teacher!reader

➳ genre: fluff, angst, single dad!au, kindergarten teacher!au

➳ warnings: mentions of divorce

➳ word count: 11.6k

➳ special thanks: @fullsunsays for helping me to proofread and offering her invaluable opinions when this fic was still halfway done + @ateez-little-star who i have cameoed in this fic for being such a sweet mutual and a lovely friend of mine here on tumblr!

a/n : only semi edited!

“Goodbye, Miss y/n!”

You flashed Sungchan a warm smile despite the tired look in your eyes and your less-than-presentable appearance with your messy, tousled hair and paint splattered clothes from a long day at the kindergarten. The boy flashed a toothy grin at you as he held onto his mother’s hand, tottering away cheerfully and at the corner of your eye, you caught Chanhee looking at you with admiration in his expression.

“Wow, the kids sure do like you a lot. Much more than the rest of us for sure.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot at the compliment as you lowered your head shyly. You are not one to be used to receiving compliments but ever since you started your job here at Sunny Hearts Kindergarten, it seemed as if everyone had nothing but praise for your performance - both parents, fellow teachers and students alike. Since you were a high schooler, you had always known that you loved working with children. There was just something about the little ones with their bright smiles and lively mannerisms that warmed your heart. To be able to be in a job that allowed you to light up the lives of the future generation and possibly make an everlasting impact in their educational journey, it all felt extremely exciting to you.

“Thanks, Chanhee.” You said softly, a sweet smile gracing your face. Just then, you became briefly aware of a presence lingering behind you and you swivelled around to see Jeno, a doe-eyed boy from your art class. Instantly, you could tell that there was something wrong. His eyes were red and you could tell that the polo tee he wore was tear-stained and you could vaguely hear light sniffling from him. He tugged nervously at your skirt and you knelt down until you were level with him.

“Hey buddy, why are you crying?” You asked in a concerned voice, ruffling his soft hair lightly.

He lifted his head tentatively, peering at you from beneath his eyelashes where a stray teardrop hung and you very gently rubbed it away as he remained silent as though he was too shy or upset to speak. Looking around, Jeno’s eyes swept the room and you realised what was going on. The lobby was almost empty by now with all the cubicles for the children’s bags all emptied and shoes from the shoe cabinet all gone. The sky was darkening with every second as a low, eerie rumbling sound came with a looming patch of dark clouds. The familiar sounds of chatters and laughter had completely disappeared by now only to be replaced by a lonely, deafening silence. With a backpack that was clearly too large for him, Jeno’s shoulders were slumped over and his expression drooped sadly, causing your heart to ache for him.

“It’s ok, your daddy will be here really soon! He’s probably just busy but he’ll be here.” You coaxed, holding and rubbing his tiny hands in yours and feeling the tension dissipate slightly from his being.

Beside you, Chanhee shook his head in disapproval, tutting.

“The man is always late.”

You didn’t say anything in return as you bite down on your lower lip, unsure of what to say. You knew that Jeno’s father was a busy man and the times you had actually been able to meet him in person, he looked exactly like a man overworked in his office job. Lee Sangyeon was almost always late to any parent teacher meeting or closing time, sometimes even entirely failing to show up as evident from the times when Jeno’s grandmother showed up instead. The few times you had seen him, he had bags under his eyes and had an unkempt appearance with a mangled tie and wrinkled office shirt almost every single time. As a single father, it was obvious to everyone how hard he worked just by the way he looked so deeply exhausted yet so alert for the next call from his office. There had been quite a number of times when Sangyeon had had to excuse himself just to take a call in the middle of fetching Jeno.

Although you try to keep your work separate from your personal feelings, you had to admit that many times, you had felt your heart beat just a tad too quickly whenever you did see Sangyeon. From the way his smile would grow wider and the way his eyes lit up whenever he came to pick up his son on the few occasions he did, anyone could tell he loved and adored his son very much. It was the sort of look you saw on a man that would do simply anything for his child. With his dashing good looks and the air of a mature, responsible working man, Sangyeon was also quite easily sometimes the subject of gossip among the mothers though he did not seem to have noticed it. You didn’t blame them, you too found him deeply attractive. If anything, the years did a good number on him.

You swallowed thickly.

You never told anyone at work about this but you had known Sangyeon back in high school when he was a senior and you, a freshman. Even back then, he had his good looks and was easily one of the most popular boys in school with his exceptional talent in the sport of volleyball and stellar grades. In a way, he felt almost untouchable and so deeply out of reach to everyone besides his own group of friends. That cheerful smile of his would light up any classroom and field he walked into and both the student body and teaching staff alike adored him for him. The boys used to want to hang out with him while the girls used to send him love letters every other day. You on the hand, kept mostly to yourself. With very little friends, life in high school was quiet and uneventful yet you would never forget the way Sangyeon made you feel. He was after all your very first love… As much as you hated to admit it.

You gritted your teeth at the memory. No, it won’t do to bring up past grievances.

All you could be thankful for was that since Sangyeon was a couple years older than you were, it meant that he had graduated earlier than you did. Not seeing his face around school was probably the better part of your high school years. With how busy school was, it wasn’t very long before you found yourself pushing him out of your mind but somehow at the back of your mind, you knew he always did claim a part of your heart for himself… Even as those memories continued to linger as well.

So imagine your shock when you first saw him a little over a year ago at the gates of the kindergarten you worked at. It felt weird seeing him again but at the same time, you could stop the warm, soft feeling of excitement coursing through your veins. It was like clockwork, the same sensations you felt all those years ago coming back - the fast pounding of your heart and the growing heat in your cheeks. Yet right after, there was that sense of dread that came back stronger than ever, sort of like a bad aftertaste. With the good memories, also came the bad memories from back then and just seeing him in the flesh after so many years was enough to break open the dam and allow these memories to come rushing back. Tried as you might to block them out, it wasn’t easy but you managed to keep your personal feelings at bay.

When you found out later that he was divorced, you couldn’t help but feel a jolt of happiness in you which you quickly stifled, shocked at yourself. Somehow it felt wrong to still harbour feelings for him but you tried your best to convince yourself that those were just because of your memories from high school. You probably don’t actually still have feelings for him… Or do you?

Shaking your head, you decided you weren’t going to think about it despite the growing anticipation in your heart as you turned your attention back to little Jeno. It wasn’t like Sangyeon remembered you anyways - He didn’t mention a single thing when the two of you met.

Quickly, you reached into your back pocket and drew out a toffee candy. You always had some at hand, both as a snack and for cheering up the children whenever they were upset. It worked almost instantaneously and you watched as Jeno lit up, his cheeks turning rosier by the second as he smiled brightly at you before grabbing the sweet. Maybe it wasn’t really a good thing, to always cheer your students up with sweets since it could cause cavities but you knew Jeno loved them and he looked so sad that you just couldn’t bear to leave him be.

“Hey, y/n?”

“Yeah?” You turned to Chanhee and immediately frowned when you saw the expression on his face. “What is it?”

Chanhee shuffled uncomfortably on his feet, his hands fiddling with the keys as he cast you a sheepish look. In his other hand, he held his phone and as he waved it awkwardly at you, you could only sigh in resignation.

“Your wife?”

Chanhee’s face grew slightly pink as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, his eyes looking everywhere but you.

“Y-yeah… Duty calls. She’s forgotten her keys again so I have to go home and open it for her.”

You peered outside at the darkening sky and little Jeno perched comfortably on the stool, sucking lightly at the toffee sweet in his mouth as he watched with a child-like interest at an ant trailing across the floor. Glancing at the clock, you decided maybe this week’s episode of ‘The Stealer House’ (which was your all time favourite show) could wait. After all, you could always ask for updates from your best friend, Jasmine.

“Alright. Go on, I’ll lock up.” You smiled, extending your hand.

“Thanks, y/n! You’re a lifesaver! Coffee. On me. Tomorrow. I’ll see you!” Chanhee said gratefully, slinging on his messenger bag before making a beeline for his car.

As Chanhee drove off, you and Jeno could only sit and watch as the first drops of the evening rain began to fall upon the earth in soft pattering sounds. You sighed deeply. The rainy season was here. Over the past few weeks, there have been downpours after downpours. At first, they happened on alternate days before it became more and more frequent. It had rained earlier this morning but it seemed as if it might start again any time soon.

A short moment of silence befell as you simply sat next to Jeno, who fiddled with his tiny fingers as his legs dangled above the ground from the stool.

“Well, would you like to do anything before your daddy comes?” You asked good-naturedly, peering down at him.

Jeno turned to look at you, his eyes big and bright.

“More candy!”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head.

“Too much candy isn’t good for you, Jeno. Plus, your daddy will get upset if you get a toothache because of it.”

Jeno pouted, huffing a little as he turned away, swinging his legs.

“I wish I could eat as much candy as I want without getting a toothache.” He murmured petulantly.

“Same, Jeno. Same here.” You smiled before a sharp knock on the door caused the two of you to look up.

Sangyeon was standing outside, absolutely drenched from head to toe, his hair clinging onto his face and neck in wet strands. The white collared office shirt he wore was absolutely soaked and clung on uncomfortably to his skin, the rainwater still dripping from the ends of his hair and clothes. His hand which held his briefcase was shaking and you could see his chest heaving up and down as he trembled ever so slightly from the cold.

“I’m… I’m here.” He panted, his voice shaking as the chilly wind bit harshly through his freezing skin and into his bones.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed, eyes wide with alarm as you rushed over and immediately opened the door. Upon entering, Sangyeon collapsed in the tiny stool which was sitting by the door, the wooden material creaking slightly under his full weight. His face was pale and you could tell that he had ran the entire way here under the unforgiving, violent storm outside. Quickly, you hurried into the locker room, throwing open the towel cupboards. Frowning, you rummaged through the piles of fabric until you found one large enough for him. Rushing back, you handed Sangyeon the towel, which he accepted gratefully through chattering teeth. Amidst the commotion, Jeno could only sit and stare blankly at his father.

“D- Daddy?” He said, confusion in his expression. Jeno had never seen his father in such a bad state before even when he was really sick so this was all very worrying for the little boy.

“Hey, l- l- little guy. Sorry… Daddy… W- was a little l-l- late.” Sangyeon stuttered, still reeling from the cold but trying to keep up a strong front as he plastered on a weak smile.

“Do you need something hot to drink?” You asked, concerned. Your heart skipped a beat as Sangyeon looked up at you, his eyes dark yet unintentionally intense. He smiled softly at you despite the cold that racked his body.

“T-That will n-not be necessary. I j-j- just need to s-sit for a m-moment,” he said before continuing, “D- Do you mind?”

“No, I don’t. Please take all the time you need. The storm out there is insane, I’m sorry you had to go through that. I noticed you didn’t drive over today?”

Sangyeon shook his head, looking down.

“Some people borrowed our car! Daddy said they will return it to us soon.” Jeno piped up, a huge smile on his face as though announcing an exciting piece of news. “They had a really cool robot like a fishing rod-”

“Jeno!” Sangyeon scolded and the colour on his cheek returned. Jeno stopped mid sentence, his face crumpling ever so slightly. You looked on, flustered.

“It’s fine! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I um… I’ll get you a mug of hot tea anyways, it helps with the cold.” You said, waving your hands in front of you frantically before running off to the kitchen.

As you waited for the kettle to reach a boil, you found your mind drifting to what happened earlier. Did their car get towed? Why? Sangyeon didn’t seem too happy when Jeno mentioned it… Was it because they could no longer afford it? The loud squeaking of the kettle shook you from your reverie and you hurriedly prepared the tea.

“Thanks.” Sangyeon mumbled, receiving the mug with both hands. He looked considerably better than he did earlier, having stopped shivering and the colour returning to his face and hands. You couldn’t help but realise how large his hands were as you handed him the mug of hot tea and when his finger lightly grazed against yours, you almost withdrew instantly which would have sent the mug crashing. Handing Jeno a small packet of banana milk, you sat opposite the father-son duo and stared out at the rain which hadn’t eased up at all. At this rate, neither of you would be able to go home. The wind outside was so strong that the trees looked dangerously close to snapping and the number of times a flash of lightning zapped across the sky was terrifying.

You turned to look at the clock.

7:06pm.

Usually, you would have been on the way home if not for the rain. You were so transfixed at the clock that you failed to notice Sangyeon staring at you.

“Do you have to be somewhere?”

You jumped, looking a little frazzled, not expecting him to strike up a conversation at all.

“Um, no. I don’t.” You forced a smile despite your nerves which were kicking in.

“Oh.” He said quietly as he took another tentative sip of his tea.

“How’s the tea?” You smiled, lacing your fingers together. The awkwardness in the room was almost suffocating and you would have given anything to get yourself out of this situation. It didn’t help that you found the man sitting across from you so deeply and hauntingly attractive even if he looked as if he just went through some sort of hell with his scruffy appearance. The all too familiar melty sensation from high school was coming back and you had to hold yourself back from relieving those teenage girl tendencies.

Get a grip, y/n.

“It’s pretty good. You make really nice tea.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling into crescents and you felt your chest tighten.

“Doesn’t look like the rain is going to stop soon.”

The carpark lot outside was practically mildly flooded with rainwater while dark clouds continued to loom over the earth outside. It would be impossible to venture outside without getting completely soaked even if one had an umbrella or raincoat on. The nearest bus stop and subway station was about a good 20 minute walk away and that was on an ordinary day. With the rain outside coming down so relentlessly, it would likely take more than 45 minutes.

“Yeah… If only I had a car.” You said, only to immediately regret it. Sangyeon’s eyes darkened and he sank into his seat.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine, please don’t apologise.” He replied in a kind manner, though he wouldn't meet your eyes out of embarrassment. “We… Couldn’t afford it anymore. You know… The um, road taxes are getting pricier and pricier. If only I still had the car, I could have sent you home. Instead, you’re stuck here with me and Jeno. I’m sorry for coming so late, I should have planned my time better...”

“Ah, please do not apologise! It’s ok, I understand it completely!” You spluttered, feeling anxious. It was odd to see him so down and come to think of it, it was probably the most emotion and actual conversation you had gotten out of him since the first time you’d seen him again here at the kindergarten. Even then, it wasn’t the kind of emotion or type of conversation you had envisioned having with him and you disliked seeing him like this. In a way, it also struck you that the Sangyeon that was sitting in front of you was different from the one you knew back in high school.

The Sangyeon now seemed much more guarded, defensive yet weirdly… Mature. It was like he grew up and experienced so much more of adulthood than most would at his age. At 28, many guys his age would still be enjoying the remaining years of their supposed youthful years - going to clubs, travelling with friends and going on dating sprees. Yet here he was, having married young, had a son and then divorced all before he even hit 30. It was definitely surprising to know that this was the very same guy that everyone in high school thought had it all going for him. As the school’s star volleyball player and captain of the school team when you both were still students, most were willing to bet that he would be signed by a major sports league of sorts but it never happened. Instead, he went to university to study accountancy and met his now ex-wife which he had clearly divorced. The Sangyeon in high school was exuberant, outgoing and full of life. You distinctively remembered how the two of you had crossed paths the very first time in school.

“Can’t we just go another time?” You whined to your best friend, Jasmine who dragged you by the wrist down the corridor.

Swivelling around to look at you with an indignant expression on her face, Jasmine rolled her eyes before smirking. Her hair flowed gracefully behind her as the two of you glided down the hallways, much to the confusion of some who watched the two of you pass.

“Nope. You won’t regret this, trust me.” She winked.

“What about volleyball could possibly be more interesting than watching my favourite twitch streamers play Minecraft and Pokémon, the two greatest games ever created?”

Jasmine stopped short, her mouth hanging open.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” You replied huffily. “If you don’t mind, I’m going back to my laptop.”

“Oh no, you’re not. You’re a teenage girl. It’s not everyday you get to live your teenage years so you’re coming with me!” She snapped, grabbing you and running down the stairs. You tried to keep pace with her, your feet moving quickly in line with hers so you wouldn’t fall and break your neck or something. Sometimes, you forgot how unfit you were as you struggled to catch your breath. Maybe it was time to stop bingeing YouTube and those delicious chocolate bars you have stashed under your bed so your mother wouldn’t find them.

As you guys entered the volleyball court, you could see crowds of students from all grades cheering from the bleachers, some with banners in their hands and others with inflatable plastic sticks and their phones to document the ongoing match. It was the start of the sports season in schools and on this particular afternoon, the volleyball team was supposed to have their very first preliminary match against another school from downtown. The atmosphere was chaotic with the sound screaming and cheering almost deafening you. The thumping of trainers against the waxed wooden floor was irritating your ears and the huge scoreboard on the wall above felt intimidating with its large flashing red numbers counting down the match. The players in the court were so involved in their game that not once did any of them look up to check the timing, their eyes all firmly trained on the ball as they hurried to serve. Nobody seemed to notice you and Jasmine either as the two of you took your places at the side of bleachers.

Everything was moving so quickly that you didn’t even know what was going on exactly. To be honest, you didn’t have a clue which team you were supposed to root for either. Are the guys wearing the white jersey shirts the ones from the school’s volleyball team? Or was it the ones in red and black? It was all very confusing. Nevertheless, it took almost no time for you to get bored out of your mind. Your head was pounding from the loud noises that surrounded you and you wanted so desperately to go back to the tranquility of your homeroom. You didn’t understand volleyball either which meant that nothing really made sense to you.

Looking at Jasmine, you could see that she was engrossed in the game. Following her eyes, you held back a chuckle at you realised who she had her sights on. Of course, it was Younghoon. You must have heard her gush over the volleyball team’s vice captain over a million times by now. Even as someone who abhorred sports and never kept up with the sports news in school, you knew Younghoon simply because of how many times she had talked about him. You could understand why she would though. There was no denying that he was an attractive guy, with shiny raven hair and a firm stance that exuded coolness. However, you had other things on your mind. Like Minecraft… And Pokémon.

Quietly, you inched away, careful not to alert her. You were so close to the double doors when you suddenly felt an ominous feeling strike you. It took you a split second to turn around and see a ball hurtling towards you at about a million miles per hour.

THUMP!

You felt yourself fall down onto the floor, your head throbbing. Your vision was blurring up and you could feel the dizziness set in as the court gasped collectively. You felt your cheeks heating up. How embarrassing! You could vaguely hear a woman (most likely a medic) ask you how you were feeling but you couldn’t get yourself to focus. All you wanted to do was get up and remove yourself from this humiliating situation.

“I am so sorry, are you okay?”

Suddenly, you became briefly aware of a strong, rough hand gripping onto your forearm firmly but gently. The touch felt soothing and it sent a jolt of electricity down your spine and immediately you snapped your head to look up at the owner of the voice. What you saw, made the words at the back of your throat hitch.

Never in your life have you ever come face to face with such a handsome face. His coffee brown hair cascaded in soft locks over his dark eyes and as he knelt down to help you, you felt your breath hitch. Was it even possible for a guy’s lips to look that… Soft? The red and black jersey fit him perfectly and the sleeveless cutting brought out the muscle definition of his arms and you could feel yourself getting shy. It wasn’t long before mortification set in. You must look like a complete idiot in front of him!

Instantly, you reeled back as if burned, withdrawing your hand away from him. He stiffened, his eyes widening in surprise. The medic tutted, shaking her head at Sangyeon.

“She needs space. I’ll take care of her, you go and play your match, be more careful while you’re at it!” She snapped and Sangyeon took a tentative step back, a sheepish expression on his face and uncertainty in those dark eyes. You could sense the hesitation as he debilitated whether to help or not.

“Hey, Lee Sangyeon! Get back in there! The girl will be fine!” A portly man screamed at him from the sidelines, most likely his coach.

“Sangyeon.” You mumbled his name under his breath. You had heard his name only in passing, sometimes Jasmine would go on about the volleyball team and at times, you’d heard her mention that very name. This guy was the volleyball team’s captain?

Sangyeon turned back to you, an uncomfortable look on his face as he mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry’ before bolting back into the court and to his teammates who patted him reassuringly on the back and casted you looks of guilt.

“Oh my god, y/n! Are you feeling alright?” Jasmine hurried over, her brows furrowing together with worry.

“Y-yeah… I’m good.” You could only reply dumbly, your sights still fixed on the boy who had most certainly captured your heart for his own.

Ever since that day, you remembered how you would always run down to the volleyball court with Jasmine even without her asking. It was real funny how just a single gaze could have you so smitten with someone. When you did see him playing, you would try to make yourself comfortable at the bleachers, trying not to look too conspicuous. In the hallways, you would run the other way whenever you saw him but peek around the corner just to catch a glimpse. It was all a very new feeling to you, the exhilaration and nervousness you would feel whenever you saw him around school. Sure, you still loved Minecraft and Pokémon but there was something about Sangyeon that made you feel some type of way. It was like the warm feeling in your chest you’d get on a cold, winter morning when you sit by a fireplace with a mug of hot chocolate in your hands. It was like the feeling of momentary happiness you would get when you win a prize at the claw machine. It was like the slight tingle you would get when you experience static.

It was your first love.

Maybe it was love at first sight then. Cupid had finally pulled its arrow on you. Suddenly, it seemed as though everything about Sangyeon was interesting to you. You would perk up whenever you heard his name in a conversation and when you saw him, you couldn’t even hide the bashfulness in your expression. Smart and caring, he was perfect. Many people seemed to have thought the same, what with his insane popularity in school. He was always surrounded by people that it made it difficult for people like you to even get close or attempt to befriend him.

“...Y/n? Are you alright?”

You snapped out of your thoughts as Sangyeon waved a hand in front of you, trying to get your attention.

“Sorry! What were you saying?” You asked, embarrassed at having gone off on a daze like that. Sangyeon regarded you with curiosity, a little unsure of what to make of you.

“Um, nothing much. You just stared off into space.” He said slowly. Beside him, Jeno was fast asleep with his mouth slightly ajar and a bit of drool leaking from his lips to his shirt.

“Oh, he’s asleep!”

Hurriedly, you took off the cardigan you were wearing and placed it gently over the boy’s sleeping form. There was an unexplainable look in Sangyeon’s eyes as you did but he remained silent.

“I… Sorry, I guess I’ve just been thinking about some stuff.” You smiled, feeling the nerves kicking in. Sangyeon raised an eyebrow, holding the hot mug of tea closer to himself. The rain outside was still as violent as ever and it didn’t look as if it would be easing up anytime soon. A beam tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Well, would you like to talk about it?”

Looking at that smile that made your heart flutter, it was almost laughable how he had almost no idea the effect he was having on you. Quite honestly, you surprised yourself with all these emotions that were now bubbling up once again. In a way, you didn’t think you still had it in you but your crush on Sangyeon even from all those years ago must have had a huge impact on you. Your heart was picking up its pace and if you weren’t careful, he might be able to hear it. Sensing your apprehension, his smile dropped.

“Sorry, I must have crossed the line. I was just trying to make conversation.”

“Ah, no. You haven’t. I just… It’s something very personal to me.” You mumbled under your breath and Sangyeon nodded weakly.

“I understand.”

At that moment, he let out a large sneeze and very nearly tipped the tea he had in the mug. His nose was becoming redder by the minute and it was clear that he was close to catching a cold.

“Are you alright?” You asked, reaching forward and placing a hand on his shoulder.

Sangyeon waved his hand, looking slightly embarrassed.

“I’ll be fine.”

It was at that moment the both of you became aware of your hand on his shoulder and just how close your proximity was. Your hair was just brushing against his face and your lips were mere inches away. His eyes seemed to hold entire galaxies, bright and luminous as they were, especially so under the dim lighting while the storm raged outside.

Quickly, you leaped back and he cleared his throat awkwardly, his eyes looking everywhere but you. You could feel the heat rapidly rising up to your cheeks and you could feel your words getting stuck at the back of your throat, unsure of what to say. That was when you noticed that the office shirt Sangyeon was wearing was still sticking uncomfortably to him, the wet and cold fabric causing him to shiver ever so slightly. You briefly remembered Chanhee stocking up some extra shirts, towels and slacks for the staff just the other day when a painting class went out of hand.

‘For convenience’s sake’, he had said when questioned. At that time, you had laughed at him for being too cautious and overreacting. To think they could actually come in handy now was extremely ironic, though it might not have been for the situation you had in mind.

“We have some extra shirts and pants in the storeroom if you need. The shower is just right there.” You said softly, still feeling a little rattled from what happened earlier.

Snapping his head up, Sangyeon wrinkled his nose.

“You have extra shirts and pants here? Of my size?”

“Um yeah, one of the teachers thought to buy some cheap ones when we had an unfortunate painting incident the other day. We had a bit of a paint fight in the nursery classroom,” you said, laughing a little just at the memory of what happened.

Sangyeon smiled warmly, the amusement shining in his eyes.

“That must have been some paint fight.”

“It was!” You bobbed your head up and down. “Wild.”

“You sure it’s not a problem for me to just use the shower?” He asked, a little hesitant.

“Not at all!”

As he stood up, you couldn’t help but notice that he towered over you. Sure, he had always towered over you but it still felt so nerve wracking to have him standing before you like that with his wet hair slicked back and the white shirt clinging onto his body. You tried to keep your sights trained firmly on the ground, trying your best not to look as you led the way. The feeling of him just trailing behind you sent shivers down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold. Yet somehow despite the fact that it got your heart doing some pretty intense backflips, his presence was also weirdly... comforting.

The tantalising aroma of convenience store fried chicken and corn dogs hung in the air as you stepped in, pulling the hood of your jacket furtively over your head, your eyes scanning the area. The snacks were displayed beautifully on the metal racks and the frosty machine whirred softly in the background over the melody of the then trending pop song played on the radio but you had no eyes for it. Pulling your jacket over your body to conceal your uniform, the tension in you only dissipated when you found no one but the bored cashier standing by the cash register who was too busy filing her nails to even care that you stepped in.

Had you found a teacher in here, you would have been toast. Walking idly down the racks of delectable snacks, you could barely hide your glee as you took in the vast variety of junk food in front of you. Barbeque chips, white chocolate biscuits, animal shaped gummy candies… It was heaven on earth. You scrunched up your nose as you thought of the standard fare probably being served back at the school canteen. No doubt, it was probably the same old stale carbonara pasta and salad made from withered up lettuce and soft tomatoes. Just the thought of it was enough to strike disgust in your heart. Rounding the corner, you almost jumped at the sight of a group of boys seated at the far corner of the store. It took you about a second to realise that they weren’t teachers but rather fellow rulebreakers from school and relaxed.

It must be nice to have a group of friends to do such lawless things together. Jasmine would always chastise you for leaving, refusing to come with you. Easy for her to say, she always had such beautiful packed lunches from home. You, on the other, had only your own allowance to rely on and there was no way you were going to spend it on the food offered in the school’s cafeteria.

You were so engrossed in the selection of snacks before you that you failed to even notice the overlooming dark clouds outside and the light, methodic pattering sound of tiny raindrops against the glass windows. As you stood before a choice of either a ham and cheese sandwich or turkey sandwich, you wondered if you brought enough money. Whipping out your purse, you did a quick check only to cry out.

Pouring out a few pennies onto your palm, you could feel your heart crumpling. How could you have forgotten to bring money of all things? Your stomach growled audibly and you whimpered, feeling like you were about to cry. Grazing your fingers over the wrapped sandwiches longingly, you started to make your way out of the store, dragging your feet as you did. Looks like it’s back to measly school meals.

Yet as you opened the door only to be greeted by a now heavy downpour, the urge to curse out loud had never been stronger. You had completely forgotten that it was now the rainy season. Now, you were not only going to be hungry but also cold at the same time. How did things turn out so badly? Turning back to look at the cashier who didn’t even glance up, you decided there was no right way about it. Your choices were either to brave the rain or be late for classes.

As you stood despondently staring at the rain and reflecting on your life choices, the group of boys from earlier stumbled out of the store, laughing as they did.

“I’ve honestly never seen him like that!”

“It’s definitely something new. Oh hey, it’s raining guys.”

“Wow, it happened so suddenly though. Just a moment ago, it was fine.”

Glancing at them, you felt yourself subconsciously inching away. You never were very good with people, especially boys. To say it felt awkward was an understatement. It was embarrassing as well, knowing that you’ve made an empty trip and got caught in the rain. There was no way they’d know what happened but it didn’t stop you from feeling self conscious about it.

“Well, I think I’m gonna make a run for it! Last one back to school pays for lunch tomorrow!” One of them called out, dashing out into the rain.

“Hak, what the fuck!” Another yelled before the rest of them set off, their shoes splashing against puddles as they did. Some of the rainwater splashed over onto your own shoes and you gritted your teeth but said nothing.

There was the tinkling sound of the convenience store’s door charm as the door swung open.

“Hey guys, I- Oh, hell no. They did not just do that to me.” Someone said breathlessly from behind you.

You froze. That voice…

Turning around slowly, you found yourself staring at the one and only, Lee Sangyeon. Instantly, your cheeks began to burn and your heartbeat began to pick up its pace. Of all places and of all people, why him?! Looking away quickly, you tried to calm yourself down. It’s a mere coincidence, maybe if you don’t say anything he won’t-

“Um, hello?”

This cannot be happening.

You swivelled around to look at him as you tried to calm your beating heart and as you did, you could feel that warm feeling you felt ever so often whenever you saw him around school despite your nervousness. With him just right in front of you, it all felt extremely nerve wracking. What do you even say?

“H-Hi?”

“Did you happen to see a group of guys out here?”

“I…” You thought of what had happened earlier. “Um, yeah. They just left though…”

Sangyeon sighed, looking resigned. Keeping his head down, you thought you saw a tint of pinkness in his cheeks before he snapped his head up, his hands planted firmly on his hips as he stared at the torrential downpour. Shooting him furtive glances, you noticed that he had nothing on him either.

“Do you not have an umbrella too?” You asked tentatively.

“...Yeah, I don’t.” He said sheepishly. There was a moment of brief silence where neither of you uttered a single word. Checking his watch, Sangyeon clicked his tongue.

“What is it?”

“It’s 1:15pm, time’s almost up.” He replied, holding up his wrist to show you the time. The butterflies in your stomach disappeared instantly only to be replaced by an uncomfortable gut wrenching feeling instead. You couldn’t afford to be late! You have a math quiz right after lunch! You were already barely scraping by Mr Moon’s class and if you flunk or god forbid, miss the test entirely, it would be a guaranteed fail for the class which would mean that you would have to retake it next semester.

Sangyeon must have noticed the sickly palour on your face and the sheer fear in your eyes because his voice had taken on a gentle tone as he asked, “Do you have something urgent to get to?”

Nothing could have hidden the anxiety and shakiness in your voice as you replied, “I have a math quiz at 1:30pm.”

For a moment, Sangyeon didn’t say anything. Then, he took off the jacket he was wearing and in an instance, he had draped the jacket over your head. Surprised, you looked up at him. He wore a warm smile on his face as he said, “Ready to run when you are.”

“But..! You-”

“I’ll be fine.” He stared out at the pouring rain. “Well, a little rain won’t hurt.”

You could have thought of about a billion different ways to reject him but the fear over missing your math quiz quickly overwhelmed all those thoughts and you had no choice but to dumbly agree. You didn’t like inconveniencing people, especially not Sangyeon but there just wasn’t any good way to turn him down, not when he was looking at you so kindly and so expectantly at that. Sangyeon must have sensed your hesitation because he shot you a reassuring look.

“I’ll be fine.” He reiterated, smiling.

You didn’t say anything but you could feel a sense of warmth growing in your heart despite the cold outside. Somehow, his voice had a calming effect on you and you began to break into a run. He followed suit, the both of you dashing out into the rain with you shielded under his jacket.

While the two of you ran, you couldn’t help but sneak a few looks at him, feeling the butterflies in your stomach flutter more whenever you did. His side profile highlighted his strong, handsome features and the shadows brought out the definition of jawline and darkness of his eyes. The rainwater gave his skin an almost shining look, water droplets dripping from the tips of his fringe. The water had seeped through the white material of his uniform and the fabric stuck his skin, bringing out his athletic shape. He looked almost as handsome as he did the first time you saw him, that one memorable moment despite the hard hit on your head.

As you stared, he suddenly turned to look at you and for a split second, the two of you made eye contact before you turned away rapidly, your cheeks burning. Why is it that you feel so warm even when it was freezing? Your heart felt like it was about to burst and for a moment, you wondered if he could tell you had feelings for him. Did he remember you? He must have. You don’t just give your jacket to someone… Right? Perhaps it was his way of apologising for the hit though to be quite honest, having him talk to you seemed like enough already. You never were very lucky in love or around your crushes and many times, you would have never exchanged even a single word with your crush out of shyness and fear. This was probably the furthest you’ve ever gotten with someone you liked.

As the two of you finally stepped into the school lobby, Sangyeon was soaked through, the water droplets still dripping down the side of his face. Shaking his head to get the water out, he ran a hand through his hair and you tried not to look. He shot you a grin which you returned.

“Hey, it’s only 1:24pm. We made it.”

“We did, thank you so much for that.” You thanked him shyly to which he brushed off, chuckling.

“It’s alright. No problem at all.”

‘I… I guess I’ll get going?”

“Ah, alright. I’ll see you, y/n.” He smiled before he gasped, suddenly remembering something as he ruffled through his pockets. Drawing out a chocolate bar, he handed it to you. You stared at his outstretched hand, confused.

“Take it.”

“Why?”

“I saw- I have an extra one and I’m not exactly allowed to eat chocolate right now because of competition season. I thought you might want it?”

When you didn’t say anything, he continued quickly, “I mean, that is if you want it of course.”

You could feel your stomach growling just looking at that sweet, heavenly bar of chocolatey goodness and it suddenly came to you that you have not had lunch. Normally, you would have flat out rejected an offer like that but the way he was looking at you with those kindly eyes made you think twice. There was no way you could say no to Sangyeon.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, taking the chocolate bar from him and his smile widened.

“By the way, I-”

Before he could say another word, the same group of boys who you had identified to be his friends came from behind the lockers several aisles down. Some of them were laughing as one of them slapped him across the back. They seem

“You’re finally back!” An upperclassmen you recognised as the school’s baseball team’s pitcher, Changmin said, patting him on the back. “See, guys? I told you guys he’s going to go for it. He’s not as big as a coward you guys think he is!”

“Fine, fine. Take your bet.” Another who you knew was referred to earlier as ‘Hak’, grumbling and slapping a wad of notes into Changmin’s hand.

“Didn’t think you’d actually do that, Sangyeon. I should have bet that she wouldn’t accept-” A red-haired friend of his stopped mid sentence, his face palling as the group began to notice that you were still standing there. The rest of the group seemed to have noticed at the same time Sangyeon’s face had turned properly red by now and his lips were moving but you couldn’t hear a single word he was saying. The shame of it all was blocking out everything and your face was growing hotter and hotter by the second until you felt almost positive that you could explode. Biting so hard on your lower lips that you were almost sure you were going to bleed, you shied away as he took a tentative step forward.

“Y/n, please…” He reached out to hold your hand but you shrugged it away, keeping your head down and trying to keep your breathing steady.

“Please. Please don’t.” You choked out, taking another step back like a wounded child. Quickly, you turned and bolted out of the lobby and into the corridors. The chocolate bar you had in your hand dropped to the floor with clatter against the linoleum floor and you didn’t even care to see if it broke into fragments just like your heart just did.

As you ran along the noisy walkways where students were chattering among themselves and enjoying the last minutes of their lunch break, you couldn’t help but keep your head down, your thoughts lingering on what happened earlier.

The shame. The humiliation. It was all too much.

Sprinting into the restroom and locking yourself in the cubicle, you had to take a moment to just breathe. Did that really just happen? How could you have been so gullible? You should have known that that was too good to be true - who would have been that nice? You almost wanted to laugh out loud at yourself just like those guys are probably doing now. God, you were such a fool. It was over before it even began.

Sniffling, your vision was beginning to get blurry from all the tears and softly, you whispered, “Lee Sangyeon, I’ll never forgive you.”

Since that day, you would avoid Sangyeon whenever you saw him around. No matter how far he was, just the slight indication of his presence was enough to send you running off in the opposite direction. It was difficult to say the least, to avoid someone within such a small neighbourhood high school. You would hide behind Jasmine or bolt off to the nearest restroom whenever you saw him walking towards you and after a while, she got the message as well, assisting in your escape attempts all the way till Sangyeon’s graduation. The last time you ever saw him was up on that stage with that warm, kind smile of his receiving his graduation certificate up until this year when you met him again when he came to pick up his son, Jeno.

“Hey, you okay?”

You blinked, shaking yourself out of your thoughts and looked up to see Sangyeon staring down at you. His hand was planted against the door frame of the shower making his build seem so much larger, with the other hand outstretched and it took you a moment to realise that he was waiting for you to hand him a spare shirt you had in your hands. Outside, the rain was still pouring down on the earth. The light above had begun to flicker and the room was growing dimmer by the second, the only source of light coming from the moonlight, the flashes of lightning and the dying light source from the ceiling.

Looking at his outstretched hand somehow triggered memories from the past and despite your determination to keep the past in the past, the bitter feelings still resurfaced and with it, it brought anger and frustration. You were no longer the meek girl you were in high school, you were stronger than this. While you fought these feelings that threatened to take control, Sangyeon peered down at you with concern, sensing that something was wrong.

“Y/n?”

The sound of his voice calling your name was just about enough to tip you over the edge.

“Why did you do it?”

You could see the flicker of shock that crossed his face, having been caught off guard at your question. It took you about a second to realise what you had just said. Covering your mouth, you stared at him with wide eyes. You could have kicked yourself. How did you let your feelings get the best of you? He probably doesn’t even remember and you might have just made a fool out of yourself. Again.

For a moment, Sangyeon said nothing and the only sound that broke the silence was the sound of the storm outside.

“It was a misunderstanding.”

You were not expecting a reply. Taken aback, you could only look at him, speechless. The words were stuck in the back of your throat and your palms were beginning to get calmy. It felt like you were being transported back to that very moment in high school.

“You remember?”

Sangyeon’s eyes were full of regret as he whispered, “Yes. Yes, I do.”

Sangyeon couldn’t help but let his eyes drift back to you throughout the remainder of the game.

It was getting increasingly difficult to focus on the game and although he knew how badly the team needed to clinch this victory, he couldn’t help but keep looking out for you.

Were you all better? Did the ball hit you too hard?

These were the sort of questions that floated around in his mind as the match went on and every so often, he’d turn to check if you were still there and every time he looked, you would be watching and just the thought of you having your eye on him was enough to give him the boost he needed to perform his best.

It was weird. He barely ever felt this way around anyone else. The many girls that have come forth professing their crushes on him never even came near and here he was being completely smitten by a certain someone. My, how the tables have turned. There was just something about you that simply… Struck him. Your beauty to him was astounding in a very heartwarming and comfortable way. It was like one of those moments when you meet someone and you just knew that you liked them.

It was as if he had fallen under the spell of Cupid. The captain who had never had a crush and always prioritised volleyball and studies was now seen keeping a conscious lookout for the girl who had captured his attention for herself with just a mere gaze. He would look out for you during recess, around school and sometimes during practice when he knew admirers of the volleyball team would come to watch. His heart always soared whenever he did catch a glimpse of you. It was funny how he normally had no problem talking to people but when it came to you, he was as shy as a mouse.

Sangyeon’s friends had caught on relatively quickly, jumping on the rare opportunity to tease the no nonsense, studious volleyball team captain about his little crush on you. Many times unbeknownst to you, his friends would drop a few hints here and there, implying at his supposed crush on you. It was definitely unsettling and embarrassing to say the least but he did not dare jump in for fear of exposing his secret - the fact that he did in fact fancy you.

“Guys, are you actually kidding me right now?” Sangyeon asked, simply radiating with what felt like an intense mixture of anger, frustration, disappointment and dejection. Watching that expression of dismay and sadness on your face did terrible things to his heart, akin to someone pushing a dagger into it and twisting the blade. Part of him did not want to believe that had actually just happened before his very eyes but the sight of the broken chocolate bar on the floor confirmed his worst fears that this was indeed the reality.

When he saw you in the convenience store, it took everything in him not to act like a lovestruck teenager. He tried his best not to pay you any attention but it was practically impossible. It was like whenever he turned away, there was this irrepressible urge to turn back and he just didn’t seem to be able to keep his eyes off you. It was embarrassing to say the least, even more so when his friends caught on.

“Are you ever going to talk to her?” Juyeon asked, rolling his eyes.

“... What do I even say to her? I want to talk but I don’t want to look stupid.”

“Since when have you ever?” Haknyeon chipped in.

“Hey, she’s leaving.” Changmin said suddenly and quickly, Sangyeon turned. “Did she not get anything?”

“I saw her looking into her wallet earlier and I think she probably didn’t have enough money.”

“Is she really skipping lunch?” Sangyeon thought, frowning. Imagine making the effort to sneak out the school and then not having enough money to buy a filling lunch. As the group began to clear up, he stared at the row of chocolate bars on display on a nearby rack. Was this going to his chance? As he stood pondering, Changmin nudged the others. Instantly, they exchanged a knowing look.

“Hey, Sangyeon. We’ll be going out to take a stretch, can you help to clear the rest?” Haknyeon asked.

“Wha-? I uh, yeah sure.” He waved them away without a second thought. Do girls like chocolates for lunch? It’s definitely not your conventional lunch option but he had read somewhere that gifting someone chocolates was romantic and girls liked them as gifts. Sangyeon had zero experience in such things so all he could do was trust the advice he’d read online.

It had taken everything in him to not freak out when he found that his friends had left him alone with you but almost as soon as he talked to you, he couldn’t be more grateful. This was his one opportunity. He didn’t know if you remembered him but he didn’t care. All that mattered was this moment. His heart fluttered and it felt like he was on edge, fearful of making a fool out of himself. He didn’t even think twice about shielding you from the rain. Sangyeon was never one to tolerate the cold very well but for you, he felt more than willing. As the two of you ran, he had been extremely conscious of himself. Were you well shielded? Was the pace of running okay for you? Could you… Hear his heart pounding?

This was not how he envisioned things to go. Just when he thought he finally had a chance, it was ripped away from him. Weeks. For weeks, he had been confronting his own confusing feelings for you. For someone who always knew what he needed to do and what his goals were in everything he did, his feelings surrounding you were the one thing he was never able to comprehend. In a way, you were an enigma he struggled to figure out. Feelings were always a complicated thing to dissect but especially when they came to you. Was this how the people who confessed to him felt when he rejected them? Sangyeon had never thought too deeply into how they might have felt - all he knew was that rejection was supposed to be a natural part of life. He never thought himself as someone who feared rejection yet this time, it was the one thing he dreaded. Rejection would have been terrible but what was even worse was the fact that you were hurt… By him. He had destroyed his own chances once and for all.

The urge to lash out at his friends was strong - he wanted to yell and go off but he knew deep down it was all a misunderstanding and a terribly unlucky case of ‘wrong time, wrong place’.

“We… We are really sorry, Sangyeon.” Changmin apologised quietly, not even daring to look him in the eye.

“Please forgive us.” Haknyeon added, his voice full of remorse and guilt.

Taking a deep breath, Sangyeon closed his eyes and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. He couldn’t possibly blame them. He knew they meant well.

“It’s okay. I’ll try to… Fix this.”

Except he couldn’t. Whenever he came close, you would run off in the opposite direction as if you’d just seen the devil himself. There was no way of coming close to talking to you. His friends had tried to come close but you pushed them away as well. You no longer came by to watch his matches and the growing guilt and sadness had a profound impact on his performances. He didn’t feel like he played as well as he did when you were around. In a way, you were the Daphne to his Apollo. You were the one person he couldn’t have and it pained him. Knowing that you were hurt as a result of his own actions pained him even more. Eventually, he knew he had to give up and as graduation drew near, Sangyeon kept his heart and feelings locked away. He was more invested in his studies and games but none of it felt like it really mattered. He was doing it for the sake of doing it.

Even as he went onto university, it felt tortuous to carry with him the knowledge that he had hurt someone he genuinely never meant to hurt. It might seem childish in hindsight but perhaps… That might have been first love that never was. Many nights, Sangyeon tried to push you out of his mind, trying so hard to convince himself that his feelings were merely fleeting but deep down, he knew they weren’t. Yet as time went on, he began to gradually lock away his memories and even found someone who he married thought as much as he’d never admit it, that strong feeling of comfort, warmth and joy he felt around you was just never there. It wasn’t really any surprise that he had gotten divorced barely a year into the marriage. Communication between him and Mina broke down completely, with regular verbal fights almost every other night. He no longer saw things the same way she did and they disagreed on virtually everything. The screaming, yelling and crying just wouldn’t stop. It was a relationship that drained him both emotionally and mentally. Many nights, he would fall asleep on the couch and wake up with intense back aches that only worsened as he carried around a heavy backpack to work every other day. The two of them went from being best friends and a couple to being almost completely strangers in their own home. Eventually, Mina had barely spared a second thought before packing up her bags and leaving him with a barely 3 month old toddler. It was definitely a union he regretted but the one thing he never did regret was his son, Jeno.

Jeno was the one constant in his life. For a long time, it was just the two of them while he struggled to make ends meet as an accountant for a small paper supply company. Life was average to say the least, it wasn’t fantastic but it wasn’t bad either. He was living in a different part of the country with his son and a small, secure studio apartment. There was nothing out of place and everything was on track. Though, the good times wouldn’t last. When his company went bust, it felt like everything was collapsing right before his very eyes again only this time, it was worse. He had a 3 year old son with him and was unemployed with the threat of eviction trailing closely behind them, breathing down his neck. It felt like the walls were closing in fast around him, leaving them both no room to breathe. He would have been left homeless if not for his friends and connections.

It was a blessing truly when Juyeon hooked him up with an accountant job with a medical supply company. The only problem was the fact that he would have to move back to the very town he had attended high school in, the very period of his life when he had suffered his first heartbreak. As he packed up his bags on his very last night in the city, he wondered briefly if you were still there.

Sangyeon sat at the edge of the bed, looking at the packed suitcases that sat at his feet. Beside him, Jeno was fast asleep. Softly, he ran his fingers through his son’s hair and he smiled. Did it really matter? Even if you were still there, things weren’t like how they were back then when he actually still had a chance of salvaging things. He never did get to know how you really felt about him but he was almost certain that you might still hate him. Maybe you might have forgotten or maybe you might have even moved away. For some reasons as much as Sangyeon didn’t want to confront his past again, he still felt his heart sink at the prospect of not seeing you again when he went back. He never did acknowledge it but you had always claimed a part of his heart for yourself all these years. Even as he alighted from the plane back at his old hometown, Sangyeon had very little expectations.

He never expected much but the shock that hit him was still almost numbing when he first showed up at Sunny Hearts Kindergarten with Jeno. There you were, in the flesh after almost 10 years. You were still as beautiful as you were in his dreams and although he wanted so desperately to talk to you, he knew he should keep his distance. It wouldn’t be right to bring up such memories. He wasn’t sure if you recognised him but he most definitely did. When you looked him in the eye, it took all his power not to do anything stupid. It felt like coming home in a way but to a home he wasn’t familiar with.

“I… I had no idea…” You whispered breathlessly as he told his story.

The room was dark, the power supply having malfunctioned, leaving the two of you in the dark. Hearing Sangyeon’s story in that voice you loved so much was surreal and almost even a little overwhelming. It felt like you were knocked out of your wind. For a moment, there was only the sound of the raging storm outside while the two of you sat in bated silence in the locker room. There was a weird yet familiar tension in the air and after a while, you managed to choke out.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Although you couldn’t see Sangyeon’s face, you could hear the softness in his voice.

“You didn’t give me a chance to.”

A flash of lightning zapped across the sky and for a brief moment, you saw the pain in his eyes and it was like something in you clicked. It was the lock you had kept on all those repressed feelings you ever had over the years. Deep down, you knew you had felt the same. You loved him, you loved him so deeply it hurt as did he. The both of you were just two souls in love yet too obstinate and clueless to fight for the love the two of you so deserve. It wasn’t resurfaced feelings - it was feelings that had been locked away for too long, waiting for the right opportunity to be freed and expressed freely.

Sensing the tension, Sangyeon grew flustered, stammering as he did.

“Look, I-I get it if you still don’t-”

His eyes widened as you crashed your lips on his. His soft lips moved slightly against yours as he stiffened. Slowly, he melted into the kiss, his hands coming up to cup your face. Your hearts were beating in unison as the two of you became simply locked in the moment, two long lost lovers locked in a tight embrace. As he withdrew, he whispered, “This. This is what I’ve been yearning for since Day one.”

There was so much affection, love and longing in his voice that it almost made you shy. Bowing your head, he chuckled deeply as he tilted your face up ever so gently with 2 fingers, making you look him in the eye. The moonlight from outside made his eyes seem all the more reflective and it felt like for a moment the two of you were back in that volleyball court, exchanging that very first gaze that led to so much hurt, misunderstandings and repressed feelings over all these years.

Suddenly, the lights flickered back on and you were so surprised, you jumped back. In the bright light, the redness in Sangyeon’s face was all the more apparent and instantly, he cowered back.

“I-I… I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me…”

“Um…” You bit down on your lower lip, unsure of what to say. You knew you wanted to say something but what exactly do you say to a long lost first love who you just shared an intimate moment with?

“Hey, the rain has stopped.” He remarked, looking out and you had a slight inclination that he was trying to cover his blushing face.

“Yeah, it has.” You said slowly.

“Daddy! Miss y/n! Where are you…!” Jeno’s cries from the lobby resounded through the corridor.

“Oh, he must have woken up!” You cried, getting to your feet and making your way over with Sangyeon following closely behind. There was an almost giddy look in his eyes which you felt your heart tightened at the sight of before you realised, you might be wearing the very same expression.

As you locked up the Kindergarten later, you felt Sangyeon standing just beside you, shuffling his feet as if there was something on his mind. Behind him, Jeno was busy jumping into puddles and you lowered your head, like a shy schoolgirl in love which was honestly how you were feeling.

“Would you… Would you be down to join us for dinner?” Sangyeon asked quietly, peering at you with those eyes that seemed to carry entire galaxies in them.

As you looked at him, it all felt like homecoming. This was what everything came down to. A failed high school first love up until this very moment. The man before you felt both so familiar yet so foreign in the best way possible. There was just so much you wanted to talk to him about. All those years the two of you missed, the lost love that the two you could have had… Thinking about it all almost made you emotional all over again.

Finally. After all these years, you have found it.

“Okay.”

553 notes · View notes

zephycluster · 3 years

Text

Precolonial HWS SEA Rant Post, feel free to ignore

If you're still reading, then you're probably looking for evidence or some juicy tidbits to throw back at me or to try and find dirt to cancel me, like typical Tumblr/Twitter. Go ahead, I don't really care.

First off, let me just say that If you like Precolonial South-East Asia AUs, feel free to keep enjoying them. I will respectfully support your passions from afar. This post is just to explain why I don't like it, especially the way they keep insisting/portraying PH in it.

Still here? Then let me begin.

Since the recent confirmation that the ASEAN Six Majors (Can't really say ASEAN 10 atm since it's still missing some people) Were completed and the Ma-Phil-Indo Trio was included, there has been a large surge in 'Precolonial' fanarts and portrayals of South East Asians, those three especially.

Even long, long before, circa 2010's ish, a rather well-known fan universe known as 'Maaf' dealt with their story and how their Author thought their intertwined histories went. Written by (my best guesstimate) an Indonesian writer who wants to explore the old, SEA bond.

When I first stumbled across Maaf (I was in Highschool at the time, around age 16-ish), I took a casual interest in it and tried to read it through. But, I will wholeheartedly admit that at the time, Pre-Colonial cultures of South-East Asia in general, let alone Philippine, did not really interest me that much. The focus (I think) was mostly on Indonesia, a country I didn't really know back then, and the liberal use of 'ancient' names and artwork just made it feel like an entirely Original Work (that needed a degree in History to really appreciate) and not something from Hetalia. I also completely disagreed with what I could gather was the story's portrayal of PH but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Do I hate 'Maaf'? No, I don't hate it. Do I wish I never came across it or that it didn't exist? Of course not. Just because I didn't enjoy it or appreciate it that well doesn't mean I wish any ill toward it, its fans, or its creator.

Fast forward to April 2021, the long awaited inclusion of South East Asia to the canon Hetalia verse. I was happy, the other fans were happy, all was good.

Then started the questionable fanarts, fan theories and fan pairings.

Especially the expansion of Precolonial! PH.

Let's go back to Maaf for one moment. From what I understood of Maaf, PH there was a character who once was like all the other South East Asian cultures, trading with them, all around being a nice family.

But all that changed when the Spaniards attacked, so cry the precolonial buffs. They destroyed everything, ransacked and marginalized the tribes, erased everything that PH was!

Did that happen? ABSOLUTELY. The Spaniards had this vision in mind that they must spread Christianity to all of the 'savage, unchristian heathens' of their realm. :V /s

But back up a second, back to PH's portrayal in Maaf. The way she (yeah, she) was portrayed there was that she was slowly losing her memories of being a 'true' South East Asian and grew more and more westernized in the process, like some sort of Culture-specific Alzheimer's or something.

Firstly, that is seriously depressing, and secondly, I just really don't see that happening.

Here's why.

Point 1: Even before Colonial Masters, Filipinos as a people cannot agree on anything.

I'll just begin this segment with a Philippine proverb that outlines what Filipinos call 'Crab Mentality' or 'Crab Bucket Mentality'.

"You don't need a lid for a container when you're keeping multiple crabs. If you keep at least two crabs together, they will just pull each other down instead of helping each other up."

I don't know how it goes with Indonesian or Malaysian history class, but what I know of my homeland, both pre- and post-colonial history, we were never really 'united' or 'together' in the sense that Indonesia and Malaysia were (from what I assume).

Let me pull up a somewhat related question on r/AskHistorians.

The reason I brought this up as it shows the reasons why, in my opinion, a single entity that is 'Precolonial Philippines-tan' is an impossibility.

The answers are long and would extend this already long post to stupid proportions, so I'll just quote relevant sentences. The link is here for those that wanna deep-dive into the answer.

"All this to say that there wasn't a name used for the entire Philippine islands before the Philippines that people now would agree to. An interesting comparison would be the Holy Roman Empire, which might also be characterized as disparate politico-geographic groups of relatively small size that had a history of relations between each other, but one thing they had that the Philippines did not was a common language, or at least a family of mostly mutually intelligible languages, so that the name Deutschland or Germany isn't terribly offensive to anyone. If you called the Philippines the 'Lupang-Tagalog' or even 'Lupang-Tao' the other ethnic groups would protest."

For those in need of translation, 'Lupang Tagalog' means 'Land of the Tagalogs' and 'Lupang Tao' means 'Land of People', specifically. The first one is already exclusive and offensive, as the Tagalog peoples are but one of many ethnicities here.

And for the 'Lupang Tagalog' suggestion specifically, it's even more offensive as they are the majority ethnicity (not by much, just around 28%) From this chart from Geography Now! It would basically be alienating everyone else in the 72% remainder that isn't 'Tagalog'.

And even 'Lupang Tao', the most generic name in a local language you can think of, would be met with contempt because the name itself is in the Tagalog language.

Just travelling between two individual island groups today would sometimes require a translator because the words can change very rapidly and very drastically. Here's a sample of some differences coming from a friend living in Visayas (in Red) vs. the words I know living in Luzon (In blue).

Ate vs. Manang = Older Sister

Ibon vs. Pispis = Bird

Tumawa vs. Kadlaw = To laugh

Takot vs. Hadlok = Fear

Kain vs. Kaon = To eat

Ngayon vs. Subong = Now, at this point in time

Iyak vs. Hibi/Gibi = to cry

Talampakan vs. Tiil = Foot (in Tagalog, the word retains its 'body part AND unit of measurement' meaning)

Tulog vs. Tuyo = to sleep (Tuyo in Tagalog is either a dried salted fish or 'to dry')

The kicker is that just like Tagalog is just one of many languages here, so too is the language my friend speaks. Ask an entirely new person, like someone from Mindanao, they'll probably have an entirely new set of words.

It's not just Luzon vs. Visayas vs. Mindanao, either. Here's a map listing some of the ethnic groups here.

Even the way they're written differs from location to location.

While we're on the subject of Island divisions, a casual skim across Twitter and Tumblr has shown that their Precolonial PH has been one of the following ancient civilizations: Tondo, Butuan, Sugbu, Namayan. There may have been others but that was what I have found.

Notice how even today, the posters of Precolonial PH can't seem to agree on what he's supposed to be? With Indonesia it's either Majapahit or Srivijaya and Malaysia it's usually Malacca iirc.

What is the big deal? Well, let's go back to the Ask Historians post. "Why didn't the Philippines ever change its name to remove the colonial mark that being named after a Spanish King has?" The answer: "If you suggested something dating to precolonial times, the other ethnic groups would protest."

Since we're on a roll with maps, let me bring this up.

As you can see, the precolonial PH posts have a reason to not be able to agree on one thing, as there is a LOT of options. Do you also see how THAT list is also split up?

It's split up into those aligned with China (Sinified), aligned with India (Indianized), aligned with the Middle East (Islamicized), and no alignment (Animist). Now, let's go back to the main suggestions for which Kingdom/Polity/Civilization/whatever Modern Philippines used to be.

If the Filipino peoples' couldn't agree on something as simple as WHAT TO CALL THE LAND THEY'RE LIVING ON, what more a living, breathing, walking, talking entity that is supposed to be a beacon of all of their 'unified' culture? ESPECIALLY if that entity used to be a currently existing Kingdom/Polity/Rajahnate/Sultanate/whatever.

Tondo? "Of course, always the damn Tagalogs. Tagalog this, Tagalog that. First the capital city, then the language,* THE REST OF US EXIST, YOU KNOW! What about us in Visayas? Mindanao?"

*The national language known as 'Filipino' is just standardized Tagalog*

Butuan? "Wait, you want Butuan to represent us? They're they only Indian-aligned city in the Islam-majority Mindanao! They're not even that many of them! I'm not gonna change my religion!"

Sugbu, the other name for the Rajahnate of Cebu on the map? Lemme bring back my Visayan friend again. According to her, she hails from the Hiligaynon part of Visayas.

"Sure :v and the other islands are what?

Chopped liver?

Not to mention the language and writing barrier helloooo"

And Namayan? Well. I'll let this pic speak for itself.

To summarize, no matter who you pick as Modern PH's previous identity, it will not end well nor be accepted by the other Kingdoms at the time.

"So where does that leave Modern PH, he had to have been ONE of them, right?"

Well, not really. He doesn't HAVE to be one of the Ancient Kingdoms that lasted till the modern day. I mean, predecessor representatives exist in Hetalia canon, after all. Like Modern Greece is a different character from Ancient Greece, Ancient Egypt and Modern Egypt, heck even England and his brothers have a canon mother that was the rep before them.

Or you could even use the same logic that Germany does, in that each specific region has/had its own representative and that Modern!PH is just the 'mediator' between them (cause gawd does PH need one). There could be a Tondo, a Namayan, a Butuan, and a Sugbu, all arguing and this Proto-PH is just trying to make headway in making them all satisfied.

But, even after all this, there is another reason why I personally don't subscribe to the 'Precolonial PH' idea, and by tangential extension, the Indo x Phil pairing.

Point 2: Even without intending to, Precolonial Indo x Phil just comes off as patronizing

This second point is just ENTIRELY personal preference and barely has any facts to back it up.

Again, if you like the pairing and disagree with me, You do you. I will respectfully support you and your passions from a distance.

But for me, Indo being Phil's seme/bae/boyfriend and consistently bringing up precolonial times just comes off as patronizing.

Just one more time, I'd like to point out that I am NOT bashing Indonesia, its people or the subscribers of Indo x Phil. This is just how the pairing feels to ME specifically.

The way I see it, Indo x Phil as a pairing, especially if it extends back into precolonial times, reads the same way as a long-since married couple where the husband/wife CONSTANTLY brings up that ONE outing you had together, or that ONE prom night where you kissed while dancing, even it happened like 30 some-odd years ago and so much more happened since then.

Even in a platonic sense, It reads like two besties where one ALWAYS mentions stuff like 'Yeah but you looked so much cooler back in High School' or 'Back in Grade School you would've known that', or 'Remember back in Pre-school we did X? How could you forget that?'

How does one respond to the notion that no matter what you do now, it will never compare to a past you've already forgotten or barely remember? That the best version of 'you' is already long gone?

"That's because the westerners made you forget your culture! You gotta take it back!"

While it is true, yes, as a collective we barely remember the Kingdom that commissioned the Laguna Copperplate, or created the Banaue Rice Terraces, or created the millennia old bonds that we still share with Indonesia and Malaysia.

But to keep pushing the precolonial identity would be to neglect and cast aside the one REAL binding belief and culture that spans the entirety of these islands we call the Philippines.

We take on all the bad stuff that happens to us, conquer it, and make it our own. Be it natural disasters, foreign powers, or negative stereotypical mentalities.

Yes, we've forgotten the ancient kingdoms of old and are just now digging through the closet for those remnants of the past. Yes, the colonizers imposed that on us, and made us forget. But in the process we've also taken everything that they left behind, everything that they threw at us, and created something that can only come from us.

The lanterns that the Spaniards used to light the way to the morning masses they made us attend became our globally known symbol of Christmas. The junked vehicles that the Americans left behind in World War 2 are now rolling works of art that announce themselves loud and proud on the streets (for better or for worse). The iced dessert recipe that the Japanese forced us to learn while they were occupying the country is now so distinct and famous it is synonymous with us, and is so delicious even Italy has taken notice.

Even after all this? Even after all the 425-ish years total we have been under a foreign power, with all the progress we've made as a country, a people, and a nation, you would still imply our fragmented, jigsaw puzzle state of being in the past was better just because it was pure 'South East Asian' like everyone else?

We might not be as well put-together as Indonesia or Malaysia, but we made this melting pot of angry, leg-pulling, dogpiling, Native, Mestizo, Chinoy, and Fil-Am crabs OURS, damnit!

It's now 4:30 AM and I have work in 5 or so hours. I'll be going to sleep now.

#hws #hws philippines #precolonial philippines #hws theory #hetalia #hetalia world stars #hetalia world series #hetalia headcanons #aph #axis powers hetalia #aph philippines #hetalia philippines #aph hetalia

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crushpdf · 3 years

Text

Tumblr Etiquette Masterpost

Hi! Because I have (1) anxiety (2) been on tumblr for more than a decade, I have assumed the incredibly narcissistic position of making a post about how to interact with people on tumblr, since I think I’ve mastered the basic rules.

UPDATE: I started drafting this post a while ago. I'm not calling anyone out. I mostly made this because I realized I had a shocking number of followers who are new to tumblr.

In this post I’m covering Asks + Anons, Reblogging + Liking, Following, Tags, and ~Making Friends~.

TL;DR: tumblr etiquette is about social norms. These are the norms I have observed in my time here. You’re free to blog as you choose, but tumblr is a happier place when everybody is following the same guidelines.

Yes I use the words like “have to” or “rule” in this post. No, none of these are actual rules. Do what you want, but be prepared to face disgruntled users.

Let’s get started!

All About Following

Rule #1: You do not have to follow anybody you don’t want to. You do not need to let someone follow you if you don’t want to.

Tumblr is technically a social media site. If you want to grow your social circle, follow your mutuals’ mutuals. The internet is like real life. You do a Group Hang, and then eventually you get to the one-on-one friendship. (Please refer back to Rule #1)

Some of your mutual-in-laws might feel slighted if you follow everyone except them. That’s okay. (Please refer back to Rule #1) You might feel slighted if you’re the one not being followed. That’s okay. (Please refer back to Rule #1)

Tumblr is technically a social media site, but it’s also a place to see the content you like, not just the people you like. You can be friendly with people you don’t follow, or who don’t follow you. Some users are amazing people who just post the wrong content. That’s okay.

If someone posts content you don’t like, unfollow them. If you don’t like someone’s personality, unfollow them. Don’t be an asshole, don’t hate-follow, and don’t stress yourself out.

Asks, Anons, Messages

I tried to organize my thoughts into paragraphs. I really did. But talking to people on tumblr is messy if you do it wrong, and I’m just going to bullet-point some etiquette guidelines.

Rule #1: You do not have to answer any messages you don’t want to.

Your 500 word message should not be the first time a user sees your name

.....Before you get Venting Privileges, a user should recognize you from the tags you leave on their posts, or the comments you leave on their fic, or the other shorter messages you’ve sent them, or from being mutual-in-laws, literally whatever. But it’s Not Cool to dump things on people who don’t even know you.

The anon button should be used in two scenarios only:

.....1, to send a positive message. Not neutral! Positive message, the kind of message you send with heart emojis.

.....2, if you don’t want to admit personal information about yourself. The Venting Privileges Rule still applies even if you’re on anon (ie: you can’t vent! Because they don’t recognize your username!) and “personal information” does not include unpopular opinions. I’m talking messages like “Saw your post about living in Houston, and I agree!”

.....(Okay, three scenarios: if someone specifically asks for anons for an ask game or something!)

If you don’t want it posted publicly, don’t send it over an ask. Send it as a DM. You can always kindly request that the recipient doesn’t publish it, but typical tumblr etiquette is that asks get published by default.

Personally, if I follow someone back I like to introduce myself! Many of these conversations end after the “hi” stage, and I never force friendship upon someone. But many of these conversations also work as ice breakers, and make it easier to send the second message, and the third. Don’t worry that you’re being rude if you don’t do this—it’s also totally normal to just keep blogging as usual!—but it’s helpful in making friends.

If you reblog an ask game from someone, it’s just common courtesy to send them an ask of your own.

Tags, Blacklists

Rule #1: You do not need to use any tags you don’t want to.

(Are you sensing a theme? But this one gets a...)

But, be prepared to face disgruntled followers over this.

Tags are useful in so many ways. They’re a great place to organize posts so you can find them more easily later on! They’re a great place to show off your personality! They’re a great (and quiet! More on this later) place to show appreciation for content creators.

They’re also so incredibly helpful for your followers to avoid content they don’t want to see. If you’re delving into a new fandom and are about to reblog twenty posts in a row, tag it. If you’re liveblogging a movie, tag it. If your post (especially your photo posts) contains any common phobias or unpleasant things (gore, spiders, etc) tag it. And if one of your followers asks you to tag certain content, even if you don’t really understand why? Tag it, or else expect to lose that follower.*

*This isn’t about your follower count, btw. This is about being a decent person.

On the other hand, use blacklists and filtering liberally! If a user does tag their content, you have no right to complain about their posting it. Just filter it.

Reblogs, Likes, Comments

Tumblr is a blogging site. It functions on reblogged posts. That’s just how it works. This is not one of those sites where you scroll for hours clicking the like button.

Here are what likes are for:

Showing support for someone’s personal posts

Showing appreciation for someone’s tags

Admiring content that doesn’t exactly align with your blog (different fandom, inappropriate, whatever.)

Saving a post to find later

Showing double the love!

Here is where likes are most disappointing:

The original fic, artwork, or edits of your fellow tumblr users, especially in your fandom

(If you’re someone who regularly reblogs things, I’m not talking to you. You’re allowed to simply “like” posts. I’m talking to those users in my notifications that, day after day, like 35 of my posts and reblog exactly 1 of them.

Just reblog shit.)

Also, remember how I said you can quietly show appreciation in the tags? Only comment directly on a post if you are sure you’re adding something worthy to the post. If you’re just saying “haha me too!” or “I remember this!” just leave it in the tags. (Reminder! You can do what you want! It’s your blog and I’m not the police! I’m just teaching you etiquette! And the polite thing to do is to leave personal commentary in the tags!)

Let’s recap:

Aaaaand: Making Friends

Start small. Introduce yourself after you have mutually followed each other.

Leave nice things in people’s tags. They notice.

Send ask game messages.

Show off more of your personality. This isn’t a one way street!

.....You can do this by, well, reblogging things. Also by tagging things. Also by just making original posts.

Do not go zero to one hundred. You wouldn’t sit next to someone in class and start talking about your trauma (even if you heard that they share your own!). So don’t do it online.

Like people’s vent posts, and their asks, and their tag games. Reply to them, too.

Honestly? Do more tag games! If someone says “anyone can do this and say I tagged you” take them up on the offer! Tag other people you want to get to know more.

Last but not least, you do not owe anyone anything on tumblr, and no one owes you anything. Ignore the rude message. Block the annoying tag. Follow the users you like even if they don’t follow you back. Do not tell people to post more of X. Do not tell them to post less of Y. Do not ask them why they don’t follow you.

It’s so much easier to press the unfollow button than to be a dick.

#i have zero idea how to tag so i will just say #masterpost

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captainkirkk · 4 years

Note

So this is a bit more serious question from one writer to another: How can you gain more traction on websites like Ao3 and tumblr? Thing is, I've been writing for years now and while I am no longer bothered by the fact that people mostly lurk (and that's ok, commenting can be its own kind of stressful) it's has become almost impossible to get people to notice I even wrote something new or updated. I update a story by 3 chapters in 1 haul, but barely anyone clicks on it or leaves kudos... (1/2)

(2/2) I wonder if it has to do with the fact that I only write gen or because I have very little reblogs on anything I post these days. I've been trying to link and connect my stuff, invited people to come talk with me on tumblr, but it's just me and some kind mutuals who like my stuff but almost never reblog. Is there any way I can let my voice be heard better in this infinite crushing void? Was there anything you actively did that helped you gain more traction on tumblr and Ao3?

I’m sorry you’re feeling disheartened, anon. Here are some tips, I have no idea if they will actually help though.

Don’t upload multiple chapters at once if you can. I know it sounds like a good idea (more content = more comments, right?), but people are busy. They might not want to consume three updates at once. Also, it might skew your statistics. I know I’ve been hesitant to click on fics that upload multi-chapters at once, but have turned out to be awesome. It’s because I’m used to fics updating one chapter at a time and accruing kudos/comments slowly, so the kudos/chapter ratio seemed off.

I know this sounds totally contradictory to my last point, but try longer word counts per chapter. People really love long chapters.

Uploading during peak-traffic hours. I don’t actually know when this is, which is terrible of me. This person seems to know? Not sure how accurate they are. Might need to have a quick search for this answer, but it’s a good thing to consider!

Write for big fandoms. Write things that big fandoms love. For example, my two biggest fandoms on ao3 were Marvel and BNHA, which are huge fandoms. My kudos count for my smaller fandoms are much, much lower. Pay attention to fandom trends too. You can’t go wrong with the classic, fandom favourites - eg. Dadzawa - but if you see a rise in a certain trend, or you see people on tumblr getting excited about an idea but there’s no one writing for it, then try your hand at it. Don’t force yourself to write something you don’t want. Write things you love. But if your loves overlap with popular fandoms and ideas, then steer yourself towards those.

Tighten up your summary. If it’s too long or not long enough and doesn’t actually hook your reader, then no one will click the fic. Also try not to add unnecessary sentences that will deter readers. For example, writing, “Summaries are hard, just read it” will probably make people steer clear. We all want to write that, but we shouldn’t.

Hopefully some of this helps?? Here’s a post that suggests some more advice.

I really hope you aren’t deterred from writing, anon! Feedback shouldn’t drive us as writers, but I know how disheartening it can be when you feel as though you’re not appreciated.

And a reminder to all the readers out there: Leave kudos and comments.

A good rule of thumb: if you’ve gotten to the end of a fic and you didn’t hate it, kudos it. You took the time to read it, you can take 0.2 seconds to tell the writer you were there, even if you don’t want to comment.

#not sure if any of this will actually help but i hope so!#writing #i'm strongly reminding people to kudos/comment as a fellow reader! not as a writer who wants comments hahaha #look after your writers in fandom #they deserve the love #ask #anon

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17mounteens · 4 years

Text

After a date (Vernon)

Request:

Hello!! So it's my first time requesting on this blog I think and I was wondering if you could write a fluffy but also smutty scenario with Vernon or Seungkwan and y/n? Somewhat casual and romantic at first, like Valentine's, or a double date with one of the members and then ya know 👌 I'm sorry if this was confusing or I didn't explain it well. . But I also wanted to thank you guys for all the amazing things you've written! ! I've very excited to read your future stories!! You're the best!!!♡

» Smut.

» A double date with Joshua and his date ends with you and Vernon hardly being able to wait to be alone.

» There’s a lot of Seungkwan requests so I went for Vernon with this one 💕

» If you’re using the tumblr app and can’t see the scenario, which is under a “keep reading”, please try opening the post in your phone’s internet browser (or a computer)! 💕

» 2,241 words

After two weeks of talking about it, you and Vernon were finally having a double date with your mutual friend Joshua and his significant other. You had been laughing Joshua’s suggestions for a double date off for a good while until Vernon had, one evening, suddenly said that he’d been thinking about it a lot and it sounded fun.

And so, a few weeks later there you were, having dinner at your place, mostly because Joshua really wanted to bring a bottle of wine, and you and Vernon were always up for a more laid back time at home, too.

Once all four of you had eaten and were mainly conversing and enjoying some wine, Joshua grinned, eyeing the way you were absent-mindedly moving your pinky finger over Vernon’s on the table.

“You guys probably get this a lot, but,” Joshua began, and you and Vernon both blinked as you turned to look at him, “you guys really match each other very well.”

His date chuckled and nodded. “I’ve been thinking the same.”

Your cheeks heated up a little as you moved your hand properly over Vernon’s and squeezed it a little. “I don’t know about that, but I guess there is a reason we’ve been together for two years now.”

“Almost two years, the anniversary isn’t until next week,” Vernon noted meaningfully and grinned at you when you shot him a glare that turned into a wide smile.

“A week here or there,” you hummed, your heart fluttering a little at the thought of your second anniversary that was nearing, and got a grin and a nod from your boyfriend.

Joshua snorted at the two of you and took a sip of his wine. “How are you guys going to celebrate it?”

You thought about what the two of you had been talking about, and remembering some slightly more rated details, you moved your gaze from Joshua to your wine glass.

He did not need to know about the special lingerie set and props the two of you had waiting for that day.

“You know, good food and enjoying each other’s company, the usual,” Vernon said, one corner of his mouth tugging upwards as he recalled the same things you did, and you chuckled.

Joshua merely smiled, catching the look you and Vernon shared, but didn’t mention it. “Sometimes the usual is the best.”

He was right.

The four of you soon moved on to dessert, but you found yourself increasingly distracted. Even with the tiramisu melting on your tongue, all you could do was think about how handsome Vernon was looking, and since he had a habit of holding his hand on your thigh - like he did currently - and after thinking about your anniversary plans, your thoughts were getting more and more uncontrollable.

And perhaps the wine was doing its little thing, too, as you couldn’t wait to kick Joshua and his partner out and enjoy your time alone with Vernon.

Judging by the way he was bouncing his leg with his hand absent-mindedly sliding higher on your thigh and him clearly feigning interest in something that Joshua was saying, you concluded that you weren’t the only one.

“It’s getting a bit late and I’ve got an early morning,” you said after a while, your breath hitching a bit as Vernon’s hand traveled that high on your thigh, and it was with a grin that Vernon pulled his hand away.

Joshua blinked and nodded, slightly surprised as he was sure you had said you had the next day off, but he didn’t say anything, and some minutes later you were ushering him and his partner out with a bright smile while Vernon started doing the dishes.

“Well this was a lot of fun, we should absolutely do this again sometime! Get home safely and see you soon,” you said, speaking noticeably faster than usual, and let out a relieved sigh after you had closed the door after the guests, who you could hear laughing behind the door right after.

Vernon was grinning from ear to ear while doing the dishes, and you were smiling a little, too, as you began walking up to him, taking in just how broad he looked with the black dress shirt tucked into his black jeans. The sight made you feel several things, and you found yourself getting excited.

“Finally alone, huh?” he asked with a small chuckle, and you hummed while wrapping your arms around him, pressing your body against his and placing your lips on the back of his neck. He stiffened for a while, the way your lips felt against his skin sending strong tingles down his spine.

“Finally,” you agreed, and while Vernon hurried to wash the last dishes, you slowly slid your hand down his body, caressing him everywhere you could as you went, and unbuckled his belt and opening his jeans, all the while kissing his neck, occasionally sucking on it a little, too, leaving behind some small marks.

To say Vernon was relieved when you pushed his jeans down a little would’ve been an understatement, as they had grown uncomfortably tight with your hands moving across his chest, stomach and crotch, and all he could do was close his eyes when he felt your hand pressing against his half-hard cock through his boxers.

“Is this okay?” you asked quietly, moving your lips closer to Vernon’s ear, and he nodded while licking his lips slowly, putting the sponge down at last before drying his hands.

“Much more than okay,” he said, his voice a bit lower than usual, and turned around, placing his hands on your hips.

“Good,” you grinned and got one hand on the back of his head before pulling him down for a deep, passionate kiss, and began opening the buttons of his shirt when you felt him taking a bit more charge with the kiss, his lips almost demanding against yours and his fingers digging into your hips a little.

With the black dress shirt open, you brought your hands to Vernon’s shoulders and felt up the muscles, which alone had the heat building up in the pit of your stomach. He grinned against your lips and wasted no time unbuttoning your loose, almost satin-like dress shirt, too, and you could hear his breath hitching, which added a sense of confidence to you.

“You look great,” he breathed, and you grinned cockily while bringing a hand to his hair.

“Tell me more,” you said, and he chuckled quietly. Soon he got his hands on the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, at which you yelped, and giggled to yourself when he put you down on the counter. “That was nice.”

“Uhhuh,” he nodded and leaned in to kiss you passionately, one of his hands on your waist under your shirt, slowly moving higher to touch your breast through your bra, while the other he slid ever-so-slowly higher on your thigh and under the skirt you had on.

Kissing him back with hunger, you pushed his boxers down enough to be able to wrap your hand around his cock, and it was at the same time that he moved his thumb on your pussy through your panties, which had you moaning against his lips. He, too, grunted quietly as you ran your thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the bead of pre-cum around, and it was with a small grin that you noticed his breathing grow shakier.

“Someone’s sensitive today,” you whispered after breaking away from the kiss, and took a steadier hold of his length while leaning into his ear. “You want me that bad?”

Your breath on his ear gave Vernon goosebumps, and all he could do was swallow and nod. “You should know by now that I can’t resist you.”

There was something about how matter-of-factly he said the words that had you snorting and lowering your head into his shoulder as you held back your laughter. Vernon merely grinned, and you felt him press a light kiss to the side of your head, a mere second before pushing your panties aside and running his finger lightly over your sensitive clit before moving lower until he could gently start spreading your anticipation around.

“Ah,” you breathed, your hips bucking a little on their own accord, and held onto Vernon’s shoulder with one hand while hiding your face in the other and using your free hand to stroke him steadily.

Vernon licked his lips; knowing that you were feeling good and wanted him just as much as he wanted you turned him on more than one would imagine, and some open-mouthed kisses on your neck later he was fingering you slowly, which had your fingers digging into his shoulder and quiet moans slipping from your lips as you tried to get him closer.

As you both were driven more and more aroused and eventually locked your lips again in a series of passionate kisses, you eventually had to stop it, as much as you enjoyed it.

Panting a little, you pushed Vernon away with a hand on his chest. “Let’s move to the couch.”

He raised his eyebrows, but was quick to withdraw his fingers from you and suck them clean while you hopped off the counter and, with your legs quivering the slightest bit from how incredibly turned on and soaked you were, led him to the couch, where he sat down and quickly got rid of his pants and boxers, after which he reached for a box you kept behind a plant on a small table in order to get a condom.

Vernon looked at you completely mesmerized as you swung your hips and let your skirt fall down to the floor, leaving you in your underwear and the shirt you didn’t feel like taking off. Slowly and with your hips swaying sensually from side to side, you walked up to him and sat astride on his lap, bringing both of your hands to either side of his neck.

“Holy shit, Y/N…” he whispered, pre-cum running down his cock as he moved his appreciative gaze up and down you.

Grinning, you took the condom from him and opened it carefully before putting it on him slowly, with your eyes locked with his.

“This is nothing,” you said quietly, a hint of playfulness in your voice, and lifted your hips and guided his cock to your entrance. With your eyes locked with his, you slowly sunk down, biting down on your lower lip as you did so. Once all the way down, you let out a moan that had Vernon swallowing hard, and you rocked your hips back and forth a little, beyond blissful at the feeling of finally being full with him.

“Finally,” you said quietly and leaned in for a kiss while Vernon’s hands found a good place on your hips, from where he guided you a little as you rode him with your tongues dancing together.

You smiled against his lips, and Vernon could feel it, and smiled, too, raising his eyebrows when you pulled away and he could see you grinning from ear to ear, all the while rocking your hips on him in a way that made breathing that much more difficult for him. “What?”

“I just,” you grinned and got a hand to his hair to play with his dark locks, and moaned quietly when you moved your hips so that he hit a particularly good spot inside of you, “I love you.”

Grinning back at you, Vernon whispered the same three words back to you, and with that he took a good hold of you and got you to lie down on the couch with him on top. Once you had instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, your lips connected to his in a passionate, deep kiss, Vernon began steady, smooth thrusts, each of which seemed to hit a better spot inside of you, which had your toes curling and your moans being muffled by his lips.

“Vernon,” you whispered against his lips and held onto him better, a series of moans slipping from your lips with every delicious thrust of his, your mind nearly going blank at the pleasure you were feeling. “I’m s-so close.”

Grunting, Vernon began moving his hips a bit faster and angled his thrusts in a new way, and as you brought one of your hands down to rub your clit while he fucked you, you were soon thrown over the edge, your vision being painted white at your climax.

Not much later Vernon was groaning as he released into the condom, the feeling of your pussy hugging his cock so tightly being the last straw and making him come. Panting, he lay down on top of you and kissed your neck sloppily.

As your orgasm began fading away slowly, you opened your eyes and looked at Vernon, amused, as he slowly lifted his face, his cheeks flushed and eyes glassy. “That was amazing.”

“It always is,” he smiled and leaned in for a slow, sweet kiss, during which he pulled out of you and ran his hand gently on your side. “I always feel good with you.”

“Save some of the sappiness for the anniversary,” you grinned, your cheeks heating up some more in addition to them already being warm for various reasons. “But me too.”

Admin Scooter

#vernon imagines #vernon scenarios #vernon smut #hansol imagines #hansol scenarios #hansol smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut

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violexides · 4 years

Text

Slavmaeda- My (Hopefully Only) Statement

Note: The times listed here are mostly in EST. If it is in another time, it will state in parentheses. The other time will usually be Polish time.

Another Note: @slavmaedasaga exists, now, for all the posts. I don’t know who made it.

Possible Blackened-

Fir (aka Firanka)

Sunflower

Marshpy

Daniel

Jago

People who follow Sunflower / Marshpy / Fir / Jago

Gay Nagito Komaeda

Experiencecarrots

Slavmaedasaga

Monokuma File- At an unspecified time this morning, Sunflower received an anon, posting “Slavmaeda rights” continuously until hitting the character limit. At 9:12 AM, Firanka confirms to receiving a similar ask. At 9:17 AM, Fir announces the case to a public discord server, “Danganronpa 2: Tropical Despair”. At 3:50 PM (POLISH TIME), Marshpy receives this ask. At 10:13 AM (or six minutes later, according to Fir), Jago receives a Slavmaeda rights ask. Then, everything went to hell.

TRUTH BULLETS

Alternate Anons: Other anons during this initial period of time were sending Sunflower asks.

“Fir”: One of these anons, not sent by Fir, uses her nickname.

Marshpy’s Account: She states to not having enough bastard energies, as well as her identity as “not Slavic” as proof of her innocence.

See: Marshpy’s Confession.

Marshpy’s Confession: Marshpy admits to sending the asks that went to sunflower and Fir, but none others.

She says she thought it would be funny.

Jago’s Account: [Jago’s] main line of defense is the website & the fact [Jago is] managing a group RP at the same time, [Jago] didnt even have tumblr opened until the situation started.

Jago proves in a screenshot that the first time she opened tumblr was at 10:12 AM.

Sunflower’s Account: She was typing up a character analysis, talking on a server, and answering other posts. Therefore, she did not have time to post these.

Worth noting that later, she would mark the times she was on/off tumblr.

Fir’s Account: She claims to being “confused the entire time”, which she admits herself is a weak alibi. She also states which specific anons she sent sunflower, none of these being the Slavmaeda posts.

See: Fir’s Confession.

Typing Patterns: The first ask was the same set of three “Slavmaeda rights” copy pasted, meaning that every third “Slavmaeda rights”, starting from the first one, had a capital S.

The second was in this same pattern.

The third was in all caps.

The forth had alternating letter capitalization.

Note: After this point, so many asks were coming in that it is hard to establish which typing patterns were used. However, it is worth saying that there were different typing and capitalization patterns.

Notes (Kind of useless but I typed it so whatever): As of typing this, Jago’s post received no notes.

Marshpy’s only received Sunflower and Fir’s declarations of innocence.

Sunflower’s posts received scattered notes.

Fir’s received an unspecified number of notes.

Sunflower’s posts, later, were reblogged frequently by the account “slavmaedasaga”

Daniel’s Account: Daniel is a bastard.

They have no tumblr account, so they can’t leave notes.

Anons can be sent without a tumblr account.

See: Daniel’s Confession.

Jago’s Website: “[It’s] not finished and navigation still is wonky but I can show if I need to prove [I’m] not really paying attention to tumblr rn”

It’s a really dope website not going to lie.

Just. Well done, Jago.

However, this could have been an alibi, planned, as Jago has been watching but suspiciously not contributing much.

Class Trial Rules: Only the first blackened gets punished.

This has nothing to do with anything.

We aren’t a class so technically it’s not a class trial.

But this is still an interesting point, motivation wise.

RickRolling Part One: Daniel is a bastard and a Mikan Kinne.

Deleted Message: Fir paraphrases it as “[trial participants] haven’t noticed something.”

This was deleted.

Daniel sent it.

Threat: “The Slavmaeda Revolution will continue without you” was sent to Marshpy at 10:31 AM.

Daniel claims this was not them.

Fir’s Confession: Fir claims to have sent the Slavmaeda asks to Jago and Marshpy, but did not send the Slavmaeda Revolution asks.

Rickrolling Ask: Someone copy and pastes the lyrics to “Never Gonna Give You Up” and sends it to Fir. After maybe a minute, she receives another Slavmaeda Rights ask.

This Slavmaeda Rights has the same typing patterns as Marshpy’s, except it cuts itself off at the end with a dash.

Threat Redux: Sunflower receives an ask that says “the slavmaeda nation shall remain eternal”

Gay-Nagito-Komaeda’s Account: They just follow Fir and are confused.

They’re innocent it’s just worth noting.

They later joined the Tropical Despair Discord Server.

Sunflower’s Ask: “slavmaeda is inevitable. succumb.”

10:55 AM.

Unsettling Truth: There is no way to track this, because, while certain asks have to have been sent by people in the server contextually, there could be people following Sunflower sending her asks, Fir sending her asks, etc.

Re: The Unsettling Truth: “Slavmaeda has already infiltrated your little trial. You are not safe there. Submit to the revolution.”

10:58 AM

Sunflower’s New Ask: The same Slavemaeda Rights that came with the Rickroll Fir received.

Sunflower’s Time Off Tumblr: 11:07 AM-11:09

11:20 AM-

Other Shit: “Rick rolling is the Slavmaeda National Anthem” (11:09 AM) (Fir)

Slavmaeda Rights (Robyn) (11:11 AM)

“Slavmaeda Slavmaeda Slavmaeda Slavmaeda” (Fir) (11:13) (not an anon, sent as daniel)

Daniel’s Confession: This fucking Mikan Kinnie.

Sent “a lot of [fir’s asks]” and “sent the revolution one to marshpy”

Experiencecarrots: “slavmaeda is the only alibi :)”

I’m gonna be honest, nobody on this server claims to be carrots.

So I have no fucking clue what is going on.

By the way, [I] is Sunflower.

THOUGHTS BEFORE POSTING:

It’s so fucking hard to track so I’m not sure if this is even accurate. This is the most information I’ve got. I’m also tired, so I haven’t looked through this in too much depth. But I think this is correct.

HANGMAN’S GAMBIT

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

r e v o l u t i o n

WHITE NOISE

Lyrics to Never Gonna Give You Up

EDIT ONE - The server this is on is Danganronpa 2: Tropical Despair.

EDIT TWO - Ignore the Hangman’s Gambit and White Noise, I got carried away.

EDIT THREE - Experiencecarrots confirms to not be on the server. I sort of figured because I think we were mutuals long before this happened, but at the same time, I’m confused as all hell.

EDIT FOUR - Maybe the real culprits were the friends we made along the way.

EDIT FIVE - Carrot’s Account (via tumblr): “Hey hey hey! I only liked the post because I refresh my feed every 2 seconds and like whatever’s there. And I follow pretty much anyone I find, so ha. Also thanks for letting me be a suspect, quite the honor if I say so myself :)” This is regarding claims of being suspicious due to being the first likes on posts, as well as following slavmaedasaga.

EDIT SIX - Gay Nagito Komaeda’s Confession: They sent Fir the rickroll ask, which was incredibly coincidental, considering that they were not in the Tropical Despair Server at the time they sent it, nor at the time Daniel rickrolled us. That was pure fucking luck. Holy shit.

EDIT SEVEN - slavmaedasaga is, most likely, on Tropical Despair. They updated the rickroll post with, in the tags, “komaeda”, meaning that they knew that it was Gay Nagito Komaeda. HOWEVER, I am aware that I updated my post with this information. We have no actual timestamps of who did what exactly, but it was within minutes of each other. My personal thoughts are that this is a person on the server, but I’m not certain.

EDIT EIGHT - slavmaedasaga claims to be a single person. It is worth considering that they could not be, but I have a feeling like they are a single person.

EDIT NINE - Daniel knows who slavmaedasaga is. It’s probably Daniel, isn’t it. We should have seen that coming. (But I will hold my suspicions until they say it themself.)

EDIT TEN - I want to make a public apology for mistreating my spaghetti. I understand that, in the light of recent allegations regarding slavmaeda and the trial ongoing to find the blackened, it may have appeared as if I have been so caught up in the information that I forgot to treat my spaghetti with care. I assure you in the future that I will never hurt my spaghetti again.

EDIT ELEVEN - There is now a tumblr blog called “slavmaeda rights”, which is entirely focused on slavmaeda rights. I’m losing my mind.

EDIT TWELVE - Slavmaedarights deleted their post that had “Slavmaeda rights” over and over.

EDIT THIRTEEN - Worth clarifying. There are technically two “og Slavmaeda” people. One is Fir, who started all of this by mentioning the concept of slavmaeda. The other is Marshpy.

EDIT FOURTEEN - Slavmaedasaga is in Tropical Despair. We raised suspicions in this server (More specifically, Gay Komaeda Nagito did) that they were the same as slavmaedarights. They very quickly made a post denying this. Therefore, they have to have been in the server.

EDIT FIFTEEN - Slavmaedarights posted again (just slavmaeda rights over and over) then deleted it. I never saw this with my two eyes. Marshpy and Gay Nagito Komaeda are eye witnesses. Some of the “S”s in rights were capitalized, according to Marshpy, which is vital to consider. Marshpy claims that there is no isolated S in this post, but she isn’t certain. Also worth considering. A deviation from a familiar pattern, which is interesting.

EDIT SIXTEEN - TWO CRUCIAL BITS OF INFO! The description of Slavmaedasaga is “Hope” in Bulgarian. Also, Daniel bluffed when they said, in the Tropical Despair server, that they knew who “Saga” is. They just wanted clout. This is important info-- we have no leads on Slavmaedasaga. But we do know that it was likely not Daniel. Daniel accuses Marshpy. who knows.

EDIT SEVENTEEN - Marshpy was shopping when "Saga” started, and Daniel sent a cryptic smiley face. They claim they were wrong about accusing Marshpy.

EDIT EIGHTEEN - SLVRights = Damien. They aren’t the same person as SLVSaga. Daniel has shown evidence that they only have one blog. I’m getting funky anons. One anon is the same person, sending theories. There are some others. The theory anon also called me sun, which isn’t explicitly odd but I guess you can consider it. Not sure what else to say.

EDIT NINETEEN - Haven’t been updating this enough. I’m getting a lot of messages and asks. “Beg. Beg for the answers. Slavmaeda is an unforgiving god. -Damien” was posted, then deleted, on the SLVRights blog in binary. I have an anon in binary. I’m inclined to believe they aren’t the same person. Someone on the server, not related on the tumblr side but helpful on the server side, has a theory. They have yet to say. I have a new ask.

EDIT TWENTY - Firanka wanted me to say that a lot of Tropical Despair people are having wifi issues. I highly doubt this is relevant. Damien posted something. I won’t type it here, because it is long, but I’ll see if I can reblog it. If not, I’ll write a transcript. Thanks for sticking with me.

EDIT TWENTY ONE - A lot has gone on. Worth saying, I turned off my anonymous asks. Nothing happened. As in like, nobody sent any asks. One of my friends did as a test. I kept it like that for a while. But, as Daniel put it, cryptid hints are better than no hints.

EDIT TWENTY TWO - Further clarification, for those lost. According to present information, Binary, Saga, and Damien are all separate people. That is as far as we know. I don’t know everyone who did this, so I apologize if I leave certain people out, but Daniel, Nebby, Firanka (there is still suspicion), Glitter (on server), and I have shown screenshots proving we only have our one blog. There are likely loopholes, but... worth considering.

EDIT TWENTY THREE - New stuff surfacing. I’m worried people are getting anxious because of some of this. If you are, please prioritize yourself. Like, literally, even if you’re a huge part of this, if you’re getting stressed? Take a breather. Stay safe. Alright? Not to be the mom of this situation. But it’s important. Take care of yourself. I’m leaving this pinned, but as it winds down, i’m probably gonna unpin this post. But, still here if you ever want to figure stuff out.

EDIT TWENTY FOUR - Approaching 400 posts. That’s interesting. Also, the suspect list on here isn’t updated. Updated information is in the edits alone. I haven’t even looked at the truth bullets since posting.

EDIT TWENTY FIVE - “Binary” was run by @experiencecarrots. We don’t know who Saga or Damien (now going by just “B”) is. But. Most of this has settled down.

EDIT TWENTY SIX - “Saga” was @firankamipinska. Still waiting for B.

EDIT TWENTY SEVEN - No closer to finding out B. A new day has started. Slavmaedanation has been created. They “declared war” against B.

EDIT TWENTY EIGHT - @gayer-nagito-komeada was Rights. To be honest. I don’t know how we didn’t see that one coming. But. There you go. They’re Damien/B/Rights. Now it’s just Nation to figure out.

EDIT TWENTY NINE - Nation is @firankamipinska. I’m not really surprised, probably because she told me she was Nation. Nation was essentially supposed to figure out who Damien was. I was too tired to give much of a shit. I woke up at 7 yesterday. I had no fucking spoons. Zero.

FINAL EDIT - Four blogs, a discord server, a channel in a discord server, and many friends were made through the Slavmaeda experience. Thank you all for embarking on this crazy ass experience with us. I can’t believe that the day after my birthday, I helped create a meme. Have a nice day.

#slavmaeda #the formatting fucked up when i copy pasted sorry

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mxrcayong · 3 years

Text

tag game; the interview

Tagged by: @lucas-wongs

Tagging: @pastelsicheng @kopikokun @stayinzencity @urlocalnctstan @sunflowerhae

n. 1 | Why did you chose your URL?

I kind of combined all the NCT members who got me really involved with NCT in the first place. So namely, the person who peeked my interest in NCT was Taeyong after my friend showed me his solo stuff and black-on-black but my first ultimate bias was Mark and then my friend’s bias (who showed me Taeyong) was Lucas (and he later became one of my major biases) So it was mxr for Mark, ca for Lucas, and yong for Taeyong (so I pronounce it mark-ah-yong) And then I was debating changing it now that I’m basically biased for all 23 members (some to different extents to others but I’m always tied with like 7 people for ultimates) but then it just felt catchy and I didn’t think I could come up with a better name than that that isn’t taken already.

n. 2 | Any side blogs? If you have them, name them and why you have them?

Initially no. Technically this is my side blog. I had a private personal blog I used to treat as a journal but then after too long with my focus on NCT and way too many “I am following you, just in a personal blog”, I basically wiped it and turned it into a random blog where I repost content that excites me / stories I like to read / whatever I want thats less personal and depressing as it was before haha… It’s @mxrcayong-main. TBH the main reason was to build better relationships with my mutuals - like they never see if I read their posts or like their stuff because my personal blog was just strange and I didnt want people to really see it.

n. 3 | How long have you been on Tumblr?

Honestly…very long. This blog hasn’t been too long though. This started as an NCT blog March 2020, but my first ever post was about Sehun in February 2020 (which was supposed to be a one off post haha). I once had a 5SOS blog, and then a Tom Holland one, and then now this haha. I have deleted the 5SOS one, unable to delete the Tom Holland one bc I lost access to it, and now I am on this :) I low key wanted to regain access to my Tom Holland one because I’m simping again but I lost details to the email I signed it up to.

n. 4 | Do you have a queue tag?

I have a queue post? Does this count?

n. 5 | Why did you start your blog in the first place?

Honestly, it was the first lockdown and I was bored.

n. 6 | Why did you choose your icon / pfp?

For the Lucas one; I liked the aesthetic. My favorite kind of aesthetic is this vintage, faded, film kind of look. For me, I think one of the most profound and important things we have as humans are these vivid memories so any photo that kind of mimics this feel is super gorgeous to me. Also Lucas is stunning.

I used to have a Haechan matching aesthetic to the Lucas one, but I recently decided to turn it blue. I chose Mark because I’m the biggest simp for him (alongside with Jeno and Haechan mostly). This is purely because blue is one of my favorite colors; it always calms me down, and I just thought the aesthetic and composition of this photo really pleases me. Like, it also fits my vibe a bit more of the ‘softie’ and my friend even says I fit the ‘blue vibe’ more idk haha. I just come onto Tumblr for escapism and write for escapism, and blue helps calm me down so I wanted this escapism to be calming y’know haha

n. 7 | Why did you chose your header?

I don’t have one!

n. 8 | What’s your post with the most notes?

My post with the most notes….honestly isn’t one im the happiest with but someone requested it so I tried to do it justice but idk I dont like writing fics too far in the future yk?? but the one with the second most notes that I really love is called “Come Home To Me”

n. 9 | How many mutuals do you have?

I can probably count on one hand haha I want to get to know people, but I’m really scared to. I gotta say tho, I’m so grateful for all the mutuals I have - but especially @pastelsicheng and @kopikokun because they really stuck with me through some bad times I’ve had. also, tons of love for @sunflowersora for being my first supporter on this app and low key motivation to keep staying on the app <3

n. 10 | How many followers do you have?

Just around 200, so not too much compared to others, but I still can’t believe that there’s 200 people who like my stuff.

n. 11 | How many people do you follow?

A lot!

n. 12 | Have you ever made a shit post?

…probably?

n. 13 | How often do you use tumblr each day?

When I don’t have exams, I use it everyday. Just because I’m in a somewhat bad headspace right now, I check it maybe every second day or just have shorter use sessions. But when I have exams, maybe once a week or two weeks.

n. 14 | Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? Who won?

Not really?

n. 15 | How do you feel about “you need to compare this” posts?

I’ve never seen these posts but the title suggests that I’d dislike them. Especially with the words “you need to”. Like, let people live how they want to; don’t compare to others.

n. 16 | Do you like tag games?

I really do! Honestly, I have to say I still don’t feel like I belong on the Tumblr community? Like I feel like I’m a newbie still finding their place. Theres a lot of times where I question that if I just leave, no one would be excited to see my posts anyway / no one will notice. So having tag games just kind of reminds me of the moots I’ve made who are a big part in making me feel like I have a place here <3

n. 17 | Do you like ask games?

I haven’t done one yet!! I want to do it but I’m just nervous I won’t get any responses?

n. 18 | Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

…All of them lol. I think @pastelsicheng is hella known for the murder replay story she did and I was a huge fan of a lot of them before they followed me back

n. 19 | Do you have a crush on a mutual?

Not a crush-crush but a platonic crush? Idk if its a common idea but basically like “holy shit I wanna get to know them” but i have social anxiety lol

#watercooler

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ts1989fanatic · 5 years

Text

A senior swiftie story:

I’m not one to really talk about myself, this is especially true because I’m not your typical senior swiftie.

I turn 61 this year and I’m one of those rare swifties a guy, there’s just not that many of us out there (well those at least willing to admit to being Taylor Swift fans).

I am very lucky in a couple of respects, I see a lot of posts on here saying my friends don’t understand my Taylor Swift obsession well I don’t have to worry about that.

I married my best friend 37 years ago and she introduced me to Taylor Swift’s music. I was never a country music fan until Kat (my better half) got me to listen to Love Story.

Since returning to Canada in 1992 (Kat’s Canadian) I’m English, we have only attended two concerts Shania Twain’s Up tour in 2002 and 1989 in 2015.

Prior to that we had seen Queen, Michael Jackson, Madonna and Tina Turner in concert the only one that comes close to 1989 and even that was a distant second was Up. We really wanted to see the Reputation tour but it did not come to Vancouver this time around, and we simply could not afford to travel to any show that was remotely close.

We are both sad that we will miss the Reputation tour because it looks even better than 1989 and I did not think was possible.

These are my top three all time favorite songs from Taylor’s entire discography.

#1 Wildest Dreams

#2 CIWYW

#3 Love Story

So I lucked out and married a swiftie, so not only do I get to share my life with her, but we also share the same passion for Taylor’s music.

I also got lucky just over two months after starting my Tumblr blog, when @taylorswift started following my blog. To be honest I never even noticed her in my notes a mutual had to point it out to me (I nearly died dead)four years later and I still have to go and check just to make sure It is not a dream.

Tumblr was not my first SM adventure when 1989 came out, I tried out Twitter first because it was a platform that I was at least familiar with. That did not last very long as I simply could not stand the drama, it’s not that Tumblr is drama free but in comparison to Twitter it may as well be.

1989 means a lot to my wife and I for reasons that are hard to explain, not only is it fantastic music. It’s one of those rare albums that come along from time to time that does not have a bad track on it at all, and every song on the album could be a single in it’s own right.

Where it gets difficult to put into words requires a lot of explaining. I joined the British military in 1980 and was posted to Germany. Soon after getting to Germany my unit asked for a volunteer to go to Canada on a six month deployment.

Well I was all over that opportunities to travel was part of my reason for enlisting in the first place. So anyway I get myself squared away and off to Canada I fly.

A little trick I learned growing up (I was an army brat for my first nine years on earth) when you get to a new posting there are three people you make nice with the paymaster the quartermaster and the head cook.

So I did this, and boy did I get lucky the head cook in this case was a civilian Leo a great guy, and within weeks of getting to know him I received an invite to dinner with his family and friends.

One of those friends was the wonderful lady pictured above, do any of you guys believe in love at first sight (I never did until that night) I grew up in a house with a drunken abusive father and this made me very cynical about love.

So here was this twice divorced woman with three children who was a little older than I was (don’t ask I won’t tell) with a girl of 5 two boys 9 and 11 and she was and still is wonderful.

Let’s just say the lyric it hit you like a shotgun shot to the heart, have a special meaning when I look back on it now.

Well anyway it turned out that love at first sight was mutual, yeah I know hard to believe but it was true go figure.

We had an amazing but far too short six months together before I had to head back to Germany late November of 1980.

Now all you youngsters on here won’t know this but the early 80’s was way before SM even email was nonexistent back then. The only way to stay in touch was international phone calls ( very expensive back then) or by writing letters.

I had volunteered to go back to Canada as soon as I returned to Germany, my unit always sent one person every six months unfortunately for me someone else had already been chosen.

So back to writing letters we did a lot of that, but we also used to include messages on on cassette tape (another thing you youngsters are probably not familiar with) on those tapes we would include our favorite songs of the time.

Mine were from the European music charts (England’s Top of the pops mostly) Kat’s were North American hits. We kept that up for a few months, then I got lucky again the guy my unit was sending to Canada went out drinking the night before his early morning flight was due to depart and got drunk and missed his flight (I had nothing to do with that’s my story I’m sticking to it).

So I got a call from my Sargent major asking how soon I could be ready to leave, you better believe I was packed and ready in less than 4 hours.

Being that I am such an ahole I did not even tell Kat I was coming, I called her from the bus station when I got to town and asked her to come pick me up. You ever see someone so happy to see you but wanting to strangle you at the same time (I did that night).

I realize this is a rather long and long winded explanation of why 1989 is so important to both of us, it goes back to the music on those tapes.

1989 has that same sound and vibe of that very same music that we used to send to each other way back when. Listening to to 1989 brings memories flooding back to those early days in our relationship.

We got married in May of 1982 and moved to London in the UK for ten years all throughout the 80’s music was very important to us both and still is to this day.

So @taylorswift has always and will probably always (at least for a long time to come) write Taymazing music, but for my wife and I writing anything better than 1989 is probably an impossibility.

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lcnguor · 4 years

Text

THE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all have witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat.

Mun Name: Mik Age: 26 Contact: IM, discord, smoke signal, whatever.

Character(s) I rp: Nora, Spike. Which muse(s) inspires you the most atm?(for MM): Nora, most likely Current Fandom(s): Fandomless Fandom(s) you have an AU for: pretty much everything I find around and hop on. My language(s): spanish, english. Themes I’m interested in for rp: Fantasy / Science fiction / Horror / Western / Romance / Thriller / Mystery / Dystopia / Adventure / Modern / Erotic / Crime / Mythology / Classic / History / Renaissance / Medieval / Ancient / War / Family / Politics / Religion / School / Adulthood / Childhood / Apocalyptic / Gods / Sport / Music / Science / Fights / Angst / Smut / Drama / etc. Themes/Genres you have an AU for: modern without supernatural, I do have some fantasy set up but eh.

Preferred Thread length: one-liner / 1 para / 2 para / 3+ / novella. Asks can be send by: Mutuals / Non-Mutuals / Personals / Anons. Can Asks be continued?: YES / NO only by Mutuals?: YES / NO. Preferred thread type: crack / casual nothing too deep / serious / deep as heck. Is realism / research important for you in certain themes?: YES / NO. Are you atm open for new plots?: YES / NO / DEPENDS. Do you handle your draft / ask - count well?: YES / NO / SOMEWHAT. How long do you usually take to reply?: 24h / 1 week / 2 weeks / 3+ / months / years. I’m okay with interacting: original characters / a relative of my character (an oc) / duplicates / my fandom / crossovers / multi-muses / self-inserts / people with no AU verse for my fandom / canon-divergent portrayals / au-versions (as main or only verse). Do you post more ic or occ?: IC / OOC. Are you selective with following others?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.

Best ways to approach you for rp/plotting: ask, IM, discord, singing telegram, smoke signals, messeger pidgeos -- whatever dude. I will most likely talk and ramble a lot, I do like plotting and I squeeze my brains out to think in ways to rp with ppl. and I really suck at approaching others. really...

What expectations do you hold towards your plotting partner: Ideas and somewhat more enthusiasm than me. I tend to shy away or feel very much awkward right off the bat if the person approaches me with not much to say or give. And honestly, some people really intimidate me because I am too hard on myself, so giving a bit of a pat on the back makes me relax more. I deal with a lot of anxiety and I know people run away the second I show it.

When you notice the plotting is rather one-sided, what do you do?: Mostly when I am doing the talk or coming with ideas or looking generally more interested. It takes effort for me to get on things and actually do stuff but if it’s not the other way around I end up thinking they got bored of me. I am one hell of insecure person. As for what I do, if after many tries of trying to reach another person and end up feeling rejected or ignored, then ... I stop. What’s the point of insisting if the other person would just be awkward or not spare you a word?

How do you usually plot with others, do you give input or leave most work towards your partner?: well, I usually ask first what the other thinks or have in mind, if nothing, I either suggest or start brainstorming with the other person. I know some who have dealt with me at first I seem like a dettached person but not having ideas really makes me feel like I have not much right to talk. I want to give yet without impossing or letting it twist my arm. I know for a fact nora’s lore really doesn’t help shit for most things.

When a partner drops the thread, do you wish to know?: YES / NO / DEPENDS. - And why?: if the thread was meaningful and we were really into it , then I would ask but as for the most, I don’t really bother with it. Sometimes people just lose muse, and even if I was enjoying it, I don’t have the right to force someone or ask why they stopped. thread dropping is normal, i guess. - What should your partner do when dropping a thread?: whatever they want. telling me or not is up to them, I don’t really mind. RP is not something SUPER serious like it should be just perfect. I try to convice myself of this a lot.

What could possibly lead you to drop a thread?: either because it was old as fuck, I couldn’t find muse or because it was lost in the void of tumblr’s amazing tracking system. - Will you tell your partner?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.

Is communication in the rpc important to you? YES / NO. - And why?: if I do not have some idea of who am i rping with and what they have in mind, then it’s nearly impossible. being purely IC is really uncomfortable and could lead to a lot of misundertandings. - Are you okay with absolute honesty, even if it may means hearing something negative about you and/or portrayal?: yeah. mostly yeah -- I mean, I will feel bad, I do have feelings, but I will take it with water. - Do you think you can handle such situation in a mature way? YES ( but I will feel bad anyways ) / NO.

Why do you rp again, is there a goal?: connect with others, ramble a lot about characters, have fun. I’ve been rping since i was 12 ( back then it was not big deal your age apparently ) and having to connect with other people by making these plots and stories and just having a fun time is something that brings me joy. There’s so much that can be done. And exploring my muses with other muses influences is really helpful to fill the holes left due indecisiveness.

Wishlist, be it plots or scenarios: I wish people joined my lore more. Having muses that could be in the same story department as Nora in particular, would be hella and inspire me more. There is so much I have. Explore nora’s power is also something I want but it’s hard -- it’s very invasive and not many would really like it, feeling it’s meta. For now, I don’t really have other muses and Spike has her little crew outside tumblr.

Themes I won’t ever rp / explore: umm, it’s hard to think in something in particular. But mostly stuff that collides with nora’s story/character. but there is a lot I am willing to explore.

What Type of Starters do you prefer / dislike, can’t work with?: casual starters are my fab. It’s easier to figure out how to go or stop and think. plotted ones also work. as for what I dislike or cannot work with, things that force my muse to not act how they would? not giving me something solid is hard to handle.

What type of characters catch your interest the most?: I really like out of the norm muses, something that you see and say /oh , look at that/. Aesthetically, story wise or personality wise, something that goes out the usual troup most would use. I do have a guilty pleasure for opposite to my muse characters --- something that would really show the contrast with one another.

What type of characters catch your interest the least?: Very basic ones? or those who try TOO hard to be special. A character that doesn’t fit in the context they are in, esp. in fandoms. HEAVILY divergent characters that just basically turn them into OCs. I know I sound like a bitch but I am the type who respect canon and the actual author behind the character too much. Also those that I don’t know much about? as in, the fandom never managed to catch my interest or smth in that line.

What are your strong aspects as rp partner?: I know where is the line between fiction and reality. And that what your character does it does not reflect as the person you actually are. I am pretty laid back and I understand people’s views and reasoning. idk. I draw a lot if I am super invested ?

What are your weak aspects as rp partner?: I am super sporadic and can go from being super active to flat out dead for weeks. my mood swings a lot with the amount of attention I get, as horrible as it sounds. I am very anxious as a person for reasons ( not IRL mostly, just bad experience from previous partners ). I promise a lot but do little? honestly I will just bad mouth myself if I keep writing this.

Do you rp smut?: YES ( tho mostly on discord ) / NO. Do you prefer to go into detail?: YES / NO / DEPENDS. Are you okay with black curtain?: YES / NO. - When do you rp smut? More out of fun or character development?: both? - Anything you would not want to rp there?: ehhhh, idk -- i don’t do as much to know what I don’t like here.

Are ships important to you?: YES / NO / RELATIVE. Would you say your blog is ship-focused?: YES / NO. Do you use read more?: YES / NO / SOMETIMES. Are you: Multi-Ship / Single-Ship / Dual-Ship — Multiverse / Singleverse. - What do you love to explore the most in your ships?: the very nature of human relations. I am talking about Nora big time here -- there is a lot to explore in her relations and how she reacts and acts towards someone is very very contextual. How much she fakes, how much she is sincere, how much she struggles or how relaxed can be. force her to show her real self, which is very hazy even for her as a task. Be very poetic deep and also very shallow. I particulary see her as a character that REALLY depends on her relation with the other muse -- but generally speaking for any of my muses: I love to explore them as a pair and as individuals. - What is your smut tag?: the unfamily friendly. ( new tag (?))

Are you okay with pre-established relationships?: YES / NO. - And what kind of ones?: Anything? I am open to anything honestly. As long as it makes sense.

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- What could possibly make your Muse interesting towards others, why should they rp with this particular character of yours now, what possible plots do they offer?: Anyone who is denying their feelings, are peculiar as an individual or anyone who needs an insight of themselves and the world around them. Nora is a mentor type of character, she is here to be a support and help others explore themselves and learn. Also if you are a minor, she will most likely try to get close to help -- one must protect the good sad kids.

- With what type of Muses do you usually struggle to rp with?: Stubborn, very fixated with things. Who would not open themselves to other perspective without thinking someone is trying to change them. Also she would struggle a heck lot with psychopaths and sociopaths, or anyone that “doesn’t have a face” for her. - With what type of Muses do they usually work well with?: Curious people, struggling ones, kids in general -- people that are willing to listen to her opinions and try to improve in a positive way. Also those who are quirky in a way.

- What interests your Muse(s) in general: rabbits, literature, interesting people, the unknown, learning, relationships of all natures. - What do they desire, is their goal?: Live long without letting her particularity ruin her -- for her kind nobody makes it past the 50s and she wants that , to conquer her ability and prove that even with something like she is ( they are ), it’s posible to live and be happy. have a family of her own, yeah she is that cheesy. - What catches their interest first when meeting someone new?: Their actions and the emotions that they are carrying on their back. - What do they value in a person?: sincerity, willingness, enthusiasm. - What themes do they like talking about?: a lot of phylosophic stuff, deep topics -- as well to casual things of life. about people and society. - Which themes bore them?: excuses and avoidance -- people who are willing to drop everything and give up.

- Did they ever went through something traumatic?: the attempt of suicide of her mother. and the successfull suicide of many of her peers. - What could possibly trigger them?: any sort of threat or violence towards someone who does not asked for it. esp. her peers and family. - What could set them off, enrage them?: Immoral ones. Those who are willing to stomp on others just to success in their goal. - What could lead to an instant kill?: is not killing, but touch a hair of her family and you are done. same for her friends and protegees.

- Is there someone /-thing they hate?: gorgers, suicide, her tired face. - Is there someone /-thing they love?: her family and dear ones --- to a fault. rabbits or anything related to it.

Is your Muse easy to approach?: YES / NO. - Best ways to approach them?: any way is okay as long as is not threatening. - Where are they usually to find?: during the night, in the streets -- during the day is either her workplace or her house. maybe a park near her apartment/location if she is feeling stuffy.

Something you may still want to point out about your muse?: she is not a good person , she is willing to manipulate people and is constantly trying to impose her morals. but she is also very sensitive even if she doesn’t show it --- Nora does look tired for a reason , and one of them is because she cries a lot .

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

Tagged by: @skyvar Tagging: @batoushoujo , @obtainedloss , @lorddiiavolo , @evanesense , @sunpierce , @necrotrigae , @maljefe , @ethaeria , @calpio , @veiliisms

#mik talks #ᴍᴜɴᴅᴀɴᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs » misc.

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blurglesmurfklaine · 4 years

Text

Cornelia Street (8/9)

(+ an interlude i thought of after reading “Reeni”s comment. Idk who you are bc it was a guest comment, but thank you!)

A/N: oh my god they were quarantined

yes. It’s one of those fics.

AU, obvs

I’m posting as I go and idk how many parts this is going to be, likely won’t be very long but I literally don’t know what I’m doing and should i be starting yet another WIP? definitely not but fuck it lets fucking go

Title is from T-swizzles Lover album, I’m OBSESSED

Summary: Three years ago, Kurt and Blaine went on a disaster of a date and never quite got off on the right foot. Now, just before they graduate from NYADA, there’s a national outbreak and they’re both self-quarantined in a mutual friend’s apartment.

Read On AO3

On Tumblr: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Interlude

QueenJCedes replied to your story!

Kurt bites back a dopey grin when he opens Mercedes’s snapchat message. It’s a photo of her looking dubiously at the camera, a single eyebrow pointed up, with the caption: Quarantine buddies, huh?

He snaps back a quick photo of himself, eyes rolled upwards. What can I say, he won me over.

She sends back just a message this time—

Mercedes: Yeah, clearly. Mercedes: Head over feet, Alanis style!

—and then a bitmoji of Kurt falling through the air.

Kurt: I mean… You’re not wrong Kurt: He’s sort of everything Kurt: AND a fantastic kisser

Mercedes: OMG REALLY? I was just teasing, but if this is legit, I’m so happy for you!!!

He can’t help but giggle excitedly as he types a reply.

Kurt: Yeah. me too.

New Snap from setroutymouth

Blaine rolls his eyes but still can't school the smile on his face into a neutral expression. This is going to be a lot, he already knows, but nevertheless, he swipes his thumb across the screen to unlock his phone.

Sam’s pacing through Mercedes’s childhood home in Ohio, phone in selfie mode, already rambling at a hundred miles a minute that Blaine’s sure he cut off a few words.

“—cedes just showed me Kurt’s snapchat story and I AM LOSING IT! Did something happen between you two? Oh my god, something totally happened, didn’t it!? BLAINE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED MERCEDES WON’T TELL ME AND I ALREADY FINISHED EVERY BINGABLE SHOW ON NETFLI—”

As expected, it was a lot. But still not enough to burst his happy little bubble. He doesn’t think anything could, at this point.

Through his smiles, he snaps back a picture of himself shrugging, trying to look as clueless as possible, and adds the caption: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

It’s not even a full moment before he gets another video back.

“BLAINE ANDERSON I AM BEGGING YOU—”

Blaine locks his phone shut, mostly because he knows it’ll drive Sam crazy. He can respond later. Right now, there are more important matters at hand.

Blaine’s in the kitchen, putting away what was left of the carton of Cookie Two-Step ice cream they’d demolished while watching another Netflix romcom, when Kurt’s phone lights up.

New Message: From: Adam I saw your sc story You know you could just be *my* quarantine buddy When are you coming?

Kurt actually growls as he types out a reply. How did he put up with this for nearly three years?

New Message: To: Adam I’m not.

Kurt. We both know how this ends.

Not this time. I meant it. We’re done.

Okay, whatever you say I’ll check in with you later When you change your mind

Kurt doesn’t even warrant that with a response, he’s too seething mad to even formulate one with enough bite to put Adam in his place.

But then the door opens, Blaine’s beaming at him, and Adam is completely irrelevant.

“I was just thinking,” Blaine muses aloud, slipping under the covers and snuggling up next to him in a way that Kurt knows will be way too easy for him to get used to. “Do you remember our Junior year when we had to partner up during Stagefighting for that Musical Choregraphy project?”

Kurt explodes into laughter. “Uh, yeah, that was pretty ridiculous. I remember hearing from Matthew that you said I dance like a pigeon that’d been chewed up and spit out by a cat.”

“What!?” Blaine exclaims, shocked. “I swear I never said that. Though, I do remember going on a tangent about how I didn’t know how I was supposed to concentrate when you insisted on wearing those pants with that tight fitted shirt and…”

He trails off, and Kurt can feel color rising to his cheeks. “Oh, that explains it, actually.”

“Explains what?”

“Matthew. He had a huge crush on you.”

Blaine’s eyes double in size. “He what!?”

Kurt lets out a chuckle. “You seriously didn’t know?”

“No! Nobody told me!”

“That’s not how crushes work, Blaine,” Kurt says through a stream of giggles.

“Okay, why does it make more sense for me to just take a wild guess about how people feel about me instead of them telling me, or acting on it? Like, if you hadn’t have kissed me earlier, I would have never known how you felt and kissed you back.”

Kurt opens his mouth to argue that logic, but… he seriously cannot get over how oblivious Blaine is. “So you’re saying that if I hadn't accidentally kissed you then you really wouldn’t have known how I feel?”

“Yeah. And I would most definitely not have acted on my crush.”

“Aw,” Kurt teases. “You used to have a crush on me. That’s embarrassing.”

“And you watch too much Parks and Rec.”

“I’m gonna kiss you again, now,” he announces.

Blaine just grins, eyes crinkling at the sides. “I think that’s a great idea.”

There wasn’t much of a choice because of the shelter in place, but based on the bright spark forming in his chest when their skin meets, Kurt could definitely get used to this living situation.

Blaine finally pulls away reluctantly. If he could stay attached to Kurt forever, stay connected to him, he would. He roams his eyes over Kurt’s face, like he could memorize it if he really, really tried, and notices a scar just above his eyebrow. It would be invisible to anyone else, anyone who wasn’t trying to intentionally map out the image of Kurt.

The scar doesn’t bother Blaine, but the idea that someone ever hurt Kurt bad enough to leave physical evidence that refuses to leave tugs achingly at his heart. Instinctively, he takes his hand from where it rests on the side of Kurt’s face, and gently traces over the scar with the pad of his index finger soothingly, as if it hasn’t been healed for years.

“Sophomore year… two years ago,” Kurt’s murmuring refocuses his attention.

That was a hazy time for Blaine, but he does have a vague memory of hearing from a friend of a friend that Kurt spent some time in the hospital, and he definitely remembers his rival-slash-partner being missing from their stage acting class for a while.

“What happened?” He asks.

Kurt is so calm, so steady when he answers. It leaves him in awe. “It was when all those gay bashings were happening…” he pauses, and Blaine immediately feels sick to his stomach because he knows where this is heading. “I was on my way home from school and saw these guys attacking some teenager, and… I had to help. I ran over and started shoving them, I guess. I didn’t really know what I was doing, but the kid got away. I didn’t. The last thing I remember after that was what I think might’ve been a brick hitting my head.”

“Jesus,” Blaine breathes. His initial reaction is to say I’m sorry, but something tells him that Kurt isn’t sorry about it at all. Instead, he says, “I had no idea. That–that was really brave of you.”

Kurt snorts out a laugh. “I’m glad you think so. I spent most of my hospital stay being berated by my dad about how irresponsible it was.”

“No,” Blaine shakes his head. “If anything it was over-responsible.”

“I’m not convinced that’s a word.”

“Me neither,” Blaine says breathlessly, amber gaze fixed on the boy lying across from him.

He really just can’t help but pull them together again.

Blaine thinks Kurt is opening his mouth to deepen the kiss and, well, he’s certainly not going to complain. Until Kurt sucks in a deep breath and turns his head, chuckling through his yawn.

“Sorry, I really thought I could hold that yawn in.”

Blaine lets out a laugh of his own and glances over at the analog clock on the nightstand. “It’s only midnight, you grandpa,” he teases.

“Hey! Doing nothing all day is seriously draining.”

“I wouldn’t call what we did nothing,” Blaine says cheekily, causing Kurt to flush.

“I’m going to shower before I head to bed,” Kurt responds, sitting up and lifting his arms up over his head and exposing an inch or so of his midriff.

Blaine is trying so hard not to stare. Nevertheless, he can’t help it as he watches Kurt saunter off to the restroom.

He tosses his head back onto the pillow with a satisfied grin on his face. Global crisis it may be, but if he got Kurt Hummel out of it… he could complain about worse things.

A bright ding from his right interrupts his thoughts. Blaine turns his head and sees the screen of Kurt’s phone light up, resting there on the nightstand.

He’s not snooping. He’s really not. It’s just sort of instinct to look in the direction of the sounds.

Then, he sees the succession of messages that make his stomach churn.

New Message: From: Adam Hurry and finish up with the rebound already I miss you Text me when you’re on your way

He stares at the screen for a few seconds before it fades back to black, feeling absolutely sick to his stomach. Of course Kurt was going to run back to his ex the first chance he got. It’s exactly what he did three years ago and Blaine was just kidding himself. This was all too good to be true.

Turns out it wasn’t.

Before he knows it, he’s grabbing his duffel bag and dialing Quinn’s number.

He’s always welcomed there and New Haven isn’t all that far, after all.

Part 9

#klaine #glee #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #klaine fanfiction #wow look at me im writing!#cornelia street

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thechekhov · 6 years

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how would you recommend an artist make themselves better known on tumblr and in general? ive been drawing and painting almost my whole life but its hard to get people to notice me, any advice? thank you, you're my fave artist

Thank you so much! That makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside…

As for your questions… hmm… it’s for sure a good one.

I’m going to get a bit… strategical on that one. Hope you don’t mind this approach.

Tumblr and real life are definitely alike in a lot of aspects, while in others they’re polar opposites. For the sake of keeping things neatly shelved, I’m going to focus on tumblr in this post.

＊*☆HOW TO GET ART NOTICED ON TUMBLR☆*＊

by chekhov

1. We have to understand how the tumblr sharing system works.

I know this sounds a bit too obvious. I mean, we all know HOW. It’s by reblogging!

I know that there’s a BIG opinion on tumblr that we should share and reblog art as much as possible to help artists get noticed. And that’s TRUE. It’s absolutely correct.

One thing I don’t agree with on that front is the guilt-tripping factor of it all. Like somehow people are responsible for the downfall of less popular artists because they didn’t reblog stuff enough. People are really quick to point at their followers and say “I GOT 100 OF Y’ALL HERE AND ONLY 3 ARE REBLOGGING ANYTHING”.

I get it. It’s frustrating!

But the fact of the matter is, you can’t force people to reblog stuff.

Instead, I recommend we harvest the power of the sharing we already have. We have to be smart about this. What I’m going to go into is a bit less concrete. We have to think about the PEOPLE who are doing the reblogging.

Artists aren’t the ONLY ones with motivations for getting their stuff seen. And because they create media they are, for lack of a better word… a vendor! The buck STARTS with them, but it doesn’t stop with them.

They have to also think about what the people are going to do with their product once it’s reblogged. Once someone buys from the vendor, they don’t just keep it forever. They distribute it to the others. And sometimes, those others distribute it again. We have to think about the bigger picture, and think about how FAR your art has the potential to go!

So, to get started we need to know… WHO are the ones buying from the vendor… and why?

What kind of rebloggers ARE there?

I’m going to give my own opinion here, and feel free to disagree. But the 3 biggest rebloggers most important to the artist are these:

1. The Pleaser

Sounds sexy, right? In fact, the pleaser comes in many different forms. But essentially their goal is the same - they reblog stuff like aesthetic posts, and other pleasing things. They themselves tend to like a lot of stuff and reblog mostly beautiful photos, nice designs, and lots of fanart of whatever they’re into at the time. Comics and story-like posts are good here (although if they’re too long, people tend to lose interest.)

How to get reblogged by a Pleaser?

Appeal to their fandom, their interest, and make something that moves them. Pleasers are most active around the time when the new episode of their favorite show comes out, or when their favorite holiday comes around. Drawing fanart during its peak popularity will usually catch a Pleasers’ attention, as will drawing aesthetic Halloween posts around, well, Halloween.

2. The Teaser

The Teaser is the class clown and the shitposter, and they reblog memes and jokes voraciously. In the Teaser’s audience are other teasers - and they also tend to be very generous rebloggers. The fact of the matter is - memes sell reblogs faster than any aesthetic art will. We’re social creatures and getting a laugh out of our followers is worth a LOT of fake internet points.

How do I get reblogged by the Teaser?

Memes. I mean, you knew this was coming, right? During the height of some new tumblr joke, people usually welcome any unusual spin, or any funny variation of an old joke.

My meme redraws have consistently been popular and have ‘boomed’ very quickly. For example, this redraw of sapphire from Steven Universe doing ‘the scroll of truth’ jumped to 5k almost within a day.

Many people peek at my page ‘for the lols’ but end up staying for the art, or because there’s another thing I post they’re interested in. Either way, memes are a gateway drug… to your blog.

3. The Librarian

The Librarian is a bit more rare, but they’re still important, because they tend to reblog a lot. They’re a bit unusual in the sense that they do this for themselves, instead of for an audience. The blog of the librarian is mostly just a replacement for bookmarking interesting stuff. These people tend to reblog tutorials, reference posts, and things they want to read later on.

How to get reblogged by a Librarian?

Make things that people want to keep around. Charts, references, tutorials. Chances are, the librarian will snag it up eventually.

Of course, these 3 aren’t the ONLY type of tumblr blogger. In fact, many of them are a mix of these 3. But the main point is…

2. What do most of these (and other) people on tumblr have in common?

Just like you, many people (although not all) want to get their stuff SEEN. You might be creating the original product, but they choose whether or not to distribute it to their audience.

Everyone is playing the same game, no matter which part of the chain they’re on.

You, as an artist, have the biggest responsibility to think about this long-term. Not only 1 reblog down the line.

For example, let’s return to one of my meme-posts that I did about wrist pain (carpal tunnel). When I made this, I had a vague idea of who would consume it. Obviously… other artists. But the reason that this got so popular? Is not only because fellow artists follow me. It’s because the artists that follow me also have followers who are also, conveniently, artists. That’s why despite the fact that many people reblogged the post directly from me - even MORE of them reblogged it from @sergle (shoutout to sergle! u rock) who is also a popular artist and also has an audience who were prone to want to reblog the post.

See that orange dot? That’s me. See that bigger blue dot? That’s sergle.

In a way, this is a game of chance. Will something you reblog be seen by someone with a large enough audience to keep it going? The thing is, we don’t know until it happens. And oftentime, the only way to achieve this is to keep trying. Stubbornly.

But you can’t just headbutt the wall in the same place and hope it eventually crumbles. You have to look for a door.

3. So what’s the door?

Take a look at your art. Is it consumable BEYOND the surface level of your followers?

Sometimes people get discouraged because their fanart is way more popular than their original art. Although I share their frustration, there’s a good reason for this, and your followers aren’t to blame.

The thing is, fanart is consumable at deep reblog levels. If you post fanart, there’s a good chance that even 3-4 reblogs down the line, there’s going to be a person who sees it and thinks ‘hey, I know Steven Universe. My followers know Steven Universe. I’ll reblog this!’ Fandoms are efficient because they already have a lot of context for the consumption of the art. They have a story (humans love stories), they’re invested in it, they’re interested in it, and there’s a good chance that sharing more stuff about it will get them more interaction with their mutuals, even if they’re not consciously thinking about all this as they reblog.

Unfortunately, that’s just not true for your original art. Many of us have beautiful, wonderful stories - but they’re not available to a wide audience. They’re not easily consumed, they’re not easily accessed (in comparison to being on netflix, for example). If you post a picture of your OC - maybe your immediate pool of followers who know that OC will reblog it. But their own followers who aren’t directly following you will not have any connection, emotional or otherwise, to that character. They simply don’t have a reason to care, and they don’t have any means to. Even if they visit your blog - will it be easy to find similar content? Have you got your links available on desktop AND mobile? Is it easy to find the beginning of your story? Is it free of mistakes and easy to read?

Large companies that make shows or comics funnel tons of money into making their media consumable. There’s a LOT of effort that goes into advertising, too. You, as an independent artist, simply don’t have that kind of manpower. That’s not your fault - but it’s also not your followers’ fault. Why are they supposed to reblog things that their own followers will never understand and connect with?

4. Back to square one: how do I get noticed?

I’m gonna keep this short and sweet because I feel like I already took up a lot of your time. After everything I’ve said, hopefully this will make sense:

Make content that has a connection to your audience somehow. Make it relatable to their life. Make it relatable to what’s currently going on. Make it worth their while to look at it.

Make content that’s easy to understand. Super detailed drawings, with nothing to focus on are difficult to digest. Simpler, sharper drawings that someone can understand within 3 seconds of looking at it are the most digestible of all. This isn’t a museum.

If you’re creating content that goes with a story, MAKE THE STORY. I know it’s tempting to create just a whole bunch of character sketch sheets and leave it at that, but you can’t complain about not getting an audience when your audience doesn’t have anything to consume in the first place.

Make the story AVAILABLE. Organize your tags. Make sure those tags are easily accessible. People will never like 100% of your art, so many it easy for them to find what they WILL like.

Don’t be afraid of fanart. Fanart gets you connected with people who like stories and content similar to yours.

Don’t be afraid to follow and reblog people that you want to connect with. Don’t be afraid to make them stuff and @ them.

Post your stuff to a LOT of places! Your audience is somewhere out there - probably not only on tumblr. You have to spread yourself thin sometimes, but make sure the account can all lead back to your main hub.

And last but not least…

Critically re-evaluate your art at least once a year. (I’m personally working on this.) Just because you’ve been drawing for years, and just because your art might be incredible doesn’t mean it’s appealing to people. Sounds weird, right? But think about it - there’s TONS of people who are not that amazing at anatomy, or coloring… but they still have a huge audience, and people connect with their art. A lot of times, it’s because their art is straightforward and easy to read/understand.

Ask a friend to critique your art. Ask them if they understand your work, or if it’s difficult to make out. Ask them what your work inspires in them. Ask them what they DO like about your work - and exaggerate that!

There’s a LOT that goes into art… no matter it’s a whole industry! Doing it all on your own is HARD and it’s a bit unthinkable how much artists have to do to compete with industries. But it’s not impossible, and it’s definitely worth it. :)

Hope I didn’t bore any of y’all who made it down this far.

Thanks!

#reblogging #art #artists on tumblr #arting #Anonymous #long post

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the-captains-ayebrows · 5 years

Text

The Meat Cute Ch. 5

Read from the beginning: FF NET / AO3 or on Tumblr [Prologue] / [Chapter 1] / [Chapter 2] / [Chapter 3] / [Chapter 4]

Anybody still remember this one? I got stuck on this chapter literally for years because I was trying to cram too much into it. So, I got out my meat cleaver, did some carving and it’s finally ready to be served up. Hope you enjoy!

FYI (since it’s been awhile) - italicized sections are flashbacks to Emma and Killian’s night together 8 years prior.

Killian rubs his eyes, thankful that the sun has finally sunk below the treeline. Saturday afternoon passed by in relative quiet. He and Will have already started the process of shutting down the Meat Market for the day, though the barbecue stand will stay open for a few more hours. The sharp jangle of the bell above the door startles Killian out of the daze of routine. He’s even more surprised to note that his customer is David Nolan.

He nods in greeting. “Sheriff Nolan! What can I get for you this evening?”

David pauses, hands on hips and a hesitant furrow to his brow as if he’s not sure how to phrase what’s on his mind. “Actually I came here to ask you a favor.”

Killian raises his eyebrows, curiosity piqued, and gestures for David to go on.

“See, Mary Margaret has me coaching a little league soccer team, and my assistant coach just quit on me.” He glances away, still apparently feeling a little awkward. “I was thinking that-”

“That because I use words like ‘bloody’ and ‘mate’, I might know a thing or two about proper football?” Killian asks, a wry smirk twisting his lips.

David closes his eyes for a second and exhales heavily. “Sorry. You’re right. That was-”

Killian raises his hand in a stop gesture and grins. “I’m just winding you up, mate. No worries. I’d be happy to help.”

David shifts his weight, looking relieved. “It’s just that Henry said you’d talked to him about ‘football’ before.”

Killian can practically hear the air quotes around the word football, and stifles the urge to roll his eyes. One word clicks in his mind. “Henry? Emma's boy is on the team?” he asks, attempting and likely failing to sound casual.

David tilts his head, his gaze narrowing. “Yeah, he is. Is that a problem? I noticed you waiting tables at Emma’s place last night. I thought you guys were friends now or something.”

Friends. Well, that’s one word for it. Acquaintances with an unusual history that they’ve agreed not to discuss and who are on mostly good terms after a rocky start, all while still being (mutually he hopes) intensely attracted to each other - that would be another way of putting it.

“We’re friendly enough, I expect.” Killian pauses, pursing his lips in thought. “Though, it might be well-advised to get her opinion on it before making the coaching job official. She and I have had a run-in or two and I’m not certain I’m completely back in her good graces.”

David frowns. “Do I wanna know?”

“Likely not,” Killian answers, keeping his expression guarded. He isn’t sure how much of their history Emma has shared with David, and he certainly doesn’t wish to get into the subject at the minute.

David nods slowly. “Okay, then. I’ll try to feel her out about it.” He digs in his pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper to hand to Killian. “Here’s the schedule and address for the game field. We practice at the empty field next to Swan’s. I’m assuming you know where that is.” He pauses, giving Killian a chance to glance over the schedule. “Think you can handle it?”

“Aye. That’ll be fine.” Killian jerks a thumb over his shoulder at Will. “Scarlett here can man the helm for a few hours in my absence.”

David for the first time takes notice of Will loitering by the back counter, and the two men bob their heads at each other in acknowledgment.

“Thanks, Jones. I owe ya. Hey, why don’t you come by practice tomorrow? You can start running some warm-up drills with the boys while I talk to Emma.”

“Wait. I won’t be required to call the sport ‘soccer,’ will I?”

David crosses his arms over his chest and grins. “As long as you’re willing to help out, I don’t care what you call it.”

“Right,” Killian answers. “See you tomorrow then. Please pay my respects to your lovely wife as well.”

With a final nod, David turns and strides out of the Meat Market. The door has barely closed behind him before Killian hears Will’s cheeky laugh.

“Coaching footie for the little lads, mate?”

Killian turns to face Will with a scowl. “What of it?”

“Befriending the son to get in with the mum. Yup. No one’ll ever see through that,” Will answers with a smug expression that Killian very much wants to punch right off his face.

“Why don’t you keep your thoughts to yourself, mate ? And perhaps get back to work?” Killian pauses as a thought occurs to him, his own smug amusement quickly replacing his irritation. “Or do you want to cut out early today? Got more books to return to the library? Pretending to be an avid reader to get in with the pretty librarian. I suppose no one’ll ever see through that ruse either.”

This time it was Will’s turn to scowl indignantly. “Oi! I’m a man of letters, I’ll have you know.”

“Aye. And those letters are S.O.B.”

“Har bloody har .”

Killian laughs as Will shakes his head and pushes off the counter he’d been leaning against to resume his work cleaning up the shop.

“Honestly, though, does Belle know you fancy her?”

Will glances down at the floor in thought before answering. “Dunno. I’ve been coming ‘round enough, she should’ve gotten the idea by now, but she hasn’t exactly given me the ‘come hither’. Haven’t worked up the nerve to ask her out yet.”

Killian raises an eyebrow and sighs. “Know how you feel, mate. We’re a sorry pair, aren’t we?”

Will snorts a laugh as he continues cleaning. “Too right.”

Killian opens the register, removing the cash drawer. He takes a couple of steps toward his office, but stops, turning back to Will. “I can finish closing up by myself. Why don’t you go check out the selection at the library?”

Will looks up at him then, obviously fighting a grin. “Might just do that. Cheers, mate.” He shucks off his gloves and apron, leaving them on the back counter before hustling to the front door.

“See you tomorrow,” Killian calls out, but Will is a man on a mission. He doesn't turn, instead only acknowledging the words with a half-hearted wave just before the door closes behind him.

And perhaps I’ll see Swan tomorrow as well, he thinks. This should be interesting.

—/—

“So where’s that handsome new waiter of yours?” Mary Margaret asks innocently, fluttering her eyelashes as she takes a long sip from her iced tea.

“Stop.” Emma huffs and presses the icy, metal pitcher in her hand to Mary Margaret’s bare upper arm in retaliation. No prim cardigans today. It may be mid-October, but no one seems to have told the weather. Today’s high is supposed to top out at a balmy 92.

It’s the tail end of a long and blessedly busy Sunday lunch shift. Only a few families from the after-church crowd linger, including the Nolans. Far be it from David and Mary Margaret to miss an opportunity for Granny’s peach cobbler and a little meddling a la mode.

“I’m just saying it was pretty nice of him to tie on an apron and lend a hand. I hope you thanked him properly.”

Emma’s head whips around and David nearly chokes on his cobbler. After a split second’s worth of confusion, Mary Margaret’s eyes widen.

“Not like that! Sheesh, I’m not Ruby, for God’s sake,” she retorts, scandalized. “I just meant I hope you were nice to him, you know, in a friendly and completely G-rated--”

Emma holds up a hand to stop her friend’s rambling. “I fed him some pie and said thank you. Okay, mom? Or do I need to send him a handwritten note, too?”

Mary Margaret rolls her eyes dramatically and David chuckles.

“Well, you know what they say about the fastest way to a man’s heart,” he replies, lifting a forkful of golden syrupy peach by way of example and giving her a little wink before shoveling the bite into his mouth.

“Ugh, not you, too,” Emma grumbles. She sets her pitcher on the Nolan’s table, and plunks herself down on the bench next to David. Her elbow to his ribs and unceremonious “Scoot over!” only prompt more laughter from him as he gladly complies.

Emma looks between her friends briefly, then settles her gaze again on David. “Shouldn’t you be outside setting up for soccer practice right now instead of in here giving me grief?”

David and Mary Margaret share a look. “Speaking of Henry’s soccer team, Tom just quit on me. I need to find another assistant coach before next Saturday’s game or we’ll have to forfeit.”

“What’s the deal with Tom?”

“His allergies,” David answers. “Apparently there’s ragweed growing near the game field. He told me he can’t take it another week.”

Emma scowls. “You’d think a pharmacist would be able to…” she gestures vaguely with her hand, “you know, self-medicate or something.”

“You’d think.” David sighs, shaking his head as he stares back down at his dessert and spears another peach slice with his fork. “Anyway, I’ll be spending my afternoon trying to find someone to replace him.” He takes a bite and chews thoughtfully for a moment, then looks back over at Emma with a hopeful raised eyebrow. “Unless you can think of someone who would do it?”

Something in David’s tone sets off Emma’s internal bullshit detector, but she can’t figure out why. “You can’t just coach by yourself?”

“Nope. The league’s insurance requires at least two adult coaches per team.”

Emma pats David’s arm sympathetically and gets back to her feet, picking up her refill pitcher. “I sure hope you find someone. Henry will be crushed if the team can’t play until you get a new assistant. Speaking of Henry...” She casts a glance around the dining area and frowns, not seeing the boy in question. “Did either of you see where he went? He’s supposed to be in that booth over there working on his science project until practice starts.”

“He and one of his little buddies headed outside with a soccer ball a while ago. I guess they wanted to get an early start,” Mary Margaret answers. “Sorry, I didn’t know he was supposed to be doing homework or I would’ve said something.”

Emma waves away her friend’s apology, but same as with David, some quirk of Mary Margaret’s demeanor is setting Emma on edge. She just can’t put her finger on what . “No problem. I’ll just go grab him by the scruff of his little pre-teen neck and drag him back in,” she says with a tight smile.

She walks over to the drink station and sets her pitcher down. She pauses there a moment as she wipes her hands on her apron. What are the odds? What are the odds that David casually mentions needing an assistant coach, right after both Nolans tease her about Killian AND Henry disappears with a soccer ball in hand?

He’s out there, isn’t he?

She grasps the doorknob, looking briefly heavenwards in a prayer for patience with overly helpful friends, then yanks the door open, knowing full well what she’s going to see mere steps from the building. There they are. Henry and his teammates, all red-faced and panting like puppy dogs, running drills in the afternoon sun, thankfully this time kicking away from the street.

And there, off on the sideline barely a few yards away is … Oh holy hell.

Emma swallows hard, suddenly suffused with a heat that has nothing to do with the blazing temperature outside. She knew. She knew he’d be there. Still, that knowledge had not prepared her for this. For Killian Jones in loose-fitting black soccer shorts riding low on his hips, muscled calves on full display. For the sweat-soaked FC Dallas t-shirt hugging his toned pecs and biceps. For the way the muscles of his throat work, his head thrown back as he gulps from a water bottle. She's near enough she can make out the rivulets of perspiration that roll down his jaw, winding their way past the twin freckles on the side of his neck, and she remembers the first time she saw those freckles up close.

He turns to face her fully as they step onto the dance floor, and in a blink, his arm is around her waist, pulling her body flush to his. A thrill of excitement runs down her spine. She’s so distracted by the feeling of his lean, defined torso pressed against her ( God, he’s warm. Almost too warm ), that she might’ve missed the bob of his Adam's apple if it weren’t right at her eye level.

Feeling suddenly self-conscious for reasons she can’t explain, she takes a moment to slowly pan her gaze upwards, mapping the freckles that dot the column of his throat, the scar that marks one sculpted cheekbone. Still not quite ready for eye contact, she instead looks down to her side where Killian is gently taking her hand. Her eyes follow the movement of their joined hands as he raises them until they’ve assumed the usual dancing posture. Her heart is pounding, and she doesn’t know whether to be exhilarated or annoyed at herself for getting so worked up over just touching this guy. She finally allows herself to meet his eyes.

The look he’s giving her makes her toes curl - searing, but also searching - and she decides to let herself go, to give in to what she’s feeling. So she smiles at him, something soft and real, and he smiles right back.

“Hold on tight, love.”

She intends to.

That thought wakes her up and she looks down quickly, chiding herself for so blatantly ogling him. Geez, all that scene needed was slo-mo and a guitar rock anthem playing in the background. At least he didn’t see me. The sound of throat clearing draws her attention. She looks up again to see Killian smirking at her.

“Quite hot, don’t you think, Swan?” he practically purrs, his tongue flicking to the corner of his mouth.

Or maybe he did. Smug bastard. She glares at him, but doesn’t take the bait.

“I mean outside, of course,” he continues innocently. “I was about to bring the lads indoors for a water break. Need to keep the squad properly hydrated.”

“Uh-huh,” Emma replies skeptically, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling in spite of herself. “Come on in. Tea and lemonade are on me.”

There’s the expected commotion as a troop of sweaty pre-teens files into the restaurant. During the shuffle, Mary Margaret grabs David’s truck keys and waves her goodbyes to the room, heading home to grade papers. The kids get situated at a long table, with David taking a seat at one end. He leaves the empty seat across from him for Killian, but instead of joining the group, Killian seems to be lingering a bit.

He’s close. Not inappropriately so, but enough that Emma catches the scent of clean sweat and woodsmoke that clings to him. And speaking of clinging, the way that t-shirt clings to his chest should really be…

Blinking quickly, Emma clears her throat. “I’ll just go get those drinks then.”

She turns toward the kitchen, but before she can get through the swinging door to hide the flush that’s creeping up her face, she hears footsteps behind her.

“I’ll help you, love.”

That’s just… great. “Fine,” she replies without looking back at him. “But no apron for you this time. Don’t want you sweating all over it. And wash your hands.”

His low, rumbling laugh follows her into the kitchen.

Emma grabs two large serving trays from a shelf and begins filling glasses with ice as Killian moves to the sink and washes his hands as commanded.

When she glances over at him, he gives her a sly smirk. “So, we’re back to being prickly today, are we?”

Emma frowns as she scoops ice into another glass. “I’m not prickly. I just don’t want to get tagged with a health code violation.”

Killian turns the faucet off, and looks at her appraisingly. “Then I suppose you’d better wash up as well,” he taunts, then flicks the water off his fingers at her.

“Hey! You’re getting me all wet!” she exclaims, then her eyes widen as she sees him pressing his lips together tightly, mirth dancing in his eyes. Before the barely repressed innuendo can burst out of him, she points a scolding finger at his chest. “Don’t even.”

His shoulders shake with silent laughter and he holds his hands up in surrender. “I wouldn’t dare, love.”

“Good,” she declares haughtily before returning to the task of pouring the drinks.

Killian grabs a pitcher of lemonade and starts to work on the second tray. “Honestly though, haven’t I proven to you by now that I’m not the enemy?”

Without looking up from her task, she answers him in a quiet voice. “I don’t think you’re the enemy.”

“Well, that’s something at least. I understand that my showing up here in your life - especially the manner in which it happened -” he runs a hand through his hair with a nervous chuckle. “I get that it caught you off guard. Believe me when I say it was quite the shock to my system as well, but you’ve nothing to fear from me, Swan. There’s no need for defenses.”

His tone is plain and sincere, and Emma makes the mistake of looking up to meet his too blue, too earnest eyes. “The thing is, my life - Henry, the restaurant, all of it - it’s a very fragile balance, and you and I barely know each other. The people we are now anyway. I just…” She turns her attention back to the drink tray and pours the last glass of lemonade. “I can’t take the chance that I’m wrong about you.”

Killian doesn’t respond right away, and she finally looks back up at him. She doesn’t know she expects to see, yet is still surprised to find him merely regarding her with quiet consideration.

“Okay,” he answers, “but has it ever occurred to you that by that logic you’re absolutely eliminating any chance that you’re right ?”

Emma’s mouth falls open, her breath catching in her throat and a strange tightening in her chest. Before she can reply, or more accurately, before her brain can cease it’s frantic whirring and even make an effort at formulating a reply, Killian gives her a small smile and shoulders one of the heavy laden trays. He turns wordlessly toward the kitchen door and Emma hefts the other tray and follows behind.

“You make a fair point, Swan,” he says casually just before they exit the kitchen. “While you and I know some rather intimate details about each other, we never really got to know the little things.”

“Guess so,” Emma agrees, suddenly wary. She eyes him quizzically as they walk the short distance across the dining room and set the trays down on an empty table. She picks up a glass in each hand, and moves to the team table to begin distributing them. “So what do you want to know?”

Killian frowns in thought, picking up a couple of glasses as well to assist. “Favorite color?” he asks, setting the glasses on the table and moving to grab more.

“Yellow,” Emma answers as she continues passing out the lemonade to the eagerly awaiting boys. “You?”

“Green,” he replies automatically, but there’s something in the way that his eyes flick down after he says it, his long eyelashes dusting his cheeks, that makes Emma’s heart flutter. “Favorite food?” he asks, settling the last two glasses in front of Henry and David and finally taking a seat at the table himself.

Emma walks to the head of the table to stand with Killian seated to her left and David to her right. Henry leans forward in his chair to peek at her around David’s shoulder.

“I know this one,” her son pipes up. “Fried stuff with cheese.”

David crosses his arms and rests them on the table. “Now hang on there, Henry. That’s what she eats every day-” he pauses to give Emma a pointed glare, earning him a swat on the arm from her. “But, let’s not forget that your mom is a carnivore. I think her actual favorite thing is a good steak.”

“Humans did not claw their way to the top of the food chain to eat vegetables, okay?” Emma retorts, earning her a laugh from those in earshot and a nod of agreement from David.

Killian simply grins at her and she doesn’t want to think about that too much, so she taps her fingernails on his tea glass. “So, here’s a question for you. Tea. Hot or iced?”

Killian quirks an eyebrow at her. “Ah, now we’re getting down to truly important matters. You know, England may revoke my dual citizenship for this, but I’ve actually come to quite like it iced. Never sweetened, though. That’s a sacrilege I cannot abide.” He finishes the statement with a shudder as if the very thought pains him.

David laughs heartily. “And that statement could get you booted out of the Great State of Texas, mate. ”

Emma hums. “So is the interrogation over now? Or is there something else you’d like to know?” She extends her hand to Killian in an offer to shake, and fakes a bubbly voice. “I’m Emma Swan, age 29 and I like wildflowers, cheap clothes and expensive makeup. Nice to meetcha,” she says with a sarcastic smile.

Killian laughs and takes her hand. “Killian Jones, age 34, and I enjoy classic rock, cheap beer and expensive guitars.” He gives her hand a firm, businesslike shake. “Enchanted.”

David rolls his eyes at the pair of them and gulps the last of his tea. He leans forward to look down the length of the table at his team and claps once to get their attention. “Okay, guys. Break time’s over. Let’s get back out there and run some more drills!”

There’s a general shuffling and scraping of chair legs against the wood floor, and soon the group is headed out the door. Killian hangs back just long enough to send one last warm smile Emma’s way.

“Definitely enchanted,” he says with a wink, then jogs off to join the team.

—/—

Monday morning arrives, as does Emma's regular delivery from the Meat Market. She signs the delivery slip and as she gives the clipboard back to the driver, he in turn places a small, flat parcel in her hands.

Emma looks down at it blankly, taking in its pristine white paper wrapping, tied with butcher’s twine in a neat bow with a single yellow wildflower tucked beneath the string. “What the hell is this?” She asks, but when she looks up at the driver, he's already holding out a small note card covered in tidy script. She takes the note and reads:

“A brown-eyed susan for a green-eyed Swan and some extra protein to strengthen my star midfielder. Please enjoy.

-KJ”

That smooth sonuvabitch, she thinks with a shake of her head. She looks up to return the package to the driver but he's already back in the cab of his van.

“Wait!” she calls. “I can't-”

“Sorry, miss,” he replies through the open van window. “I was told there are no returns or exchanges on bonus items.” He gives her a cheerful wave and drives away.

“Oh, I'll just bet you were,” Emma mutters to herself, but as she looks down at the parcel again the sight of the little flower has her fighting a smile. She furtively glances around (as if anyone would be out at this godforsaken hour of the morning to see her), and pulls the bloom free, tucking it carefully behind her ear.

When she returns to her kitchen, she opens the parcel to find two absolutely beautiful tenderloin filets. Emma's teeth pull at her lower lip. On one hand it's kind of a weird (albeit thoughtful) gift, but on the other, well… She does have a peppercorn rub she's been meaning to try, and really there's no sense in wasting a prime cut of beef. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice that sounds just like Ruby is shouting, ‘ Girl, that's what I've been saying! ’ but she ignores it. Mostly.

And maybe if she gently re-wraps the steaks and places them in her fridge with a goofy grin on her face, and maybe if she puts her flower in a little glass by the register so she can look at it all day, well then that's her own business.

—/—

It’s a gorgeous, clear blue Saturday afternoon. Perfect game day weather. Autumn is finally catching up to Storybrooke, and what with the breeze that toys with Emma’s hair making her wonder why she even bothered to brush it this morning, it could almost be considered cool outside.

Emma hoists her folding lawn chair out of the VW’s trunk and totes it over to the sidelines to join Mary Margaret and the other team moms. Despite the lovely day, there’s an ominous feeling in her chest, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. On the positive side, she’d finally convinced Granny divulge her secret onion ring recipe. Emma had tested it today during the lunch rush, handing out free samples to a few of her regular customers. Everyone raved about them, both for the nostalgia of bringing back a ‘classic’ as well as the actual flavor.

The response should have given Emma a boost of confidence about the potential for more revenue and new (or returning) customers, but there was something else that niggled at the back of her mind. No one had said anything to her directly, but as she’d worked the floor with the lunch crowd, she’d overheard a few statements about the barbecue sauce. ‘ Sauce seems kinda bland today,’ ‘You’re just used to Jones’s sauce,’ ‘Think Jones would bottle that stuff?’ ‘Swan’s has better food, but that sauce, man. It’s addictive.’ Emma files those comments away to process later.

She sighs as she removes her folding chair from its tote bag and settles it down next to Mary Margaret’s empty seat. She spots her friend further down the sidelines talking animatedly to David who has his arms crossed and brow furrowed. Emma smiles to herself and wonders who’s actually running this show. Mary Margaret’s ‘helpful suggestions’ have been known from time to time to come out sounding more like royal decrees.

She picks Henry out of the cluster of boys jogging toward the team bench. She waves to catch his eye, and he offers her an only slightly embarrassed sounding, “Hey, mom!”

“Hey, kid!” Emma smiles broadly. He must really be excited about this game for him to publicly acknowledge her like that - adolescent street cred be damned - and she’s happy for him.

Her exchange with Henry apparently draws someone else’s attention to her as well. A second later, a deep, accented voice calls out, “Bring it in, lads!” and soon the owner of said voice is sauntering her way. He’s wearing those damn soccer shorts again, this time paired with a green t-shirt with ‘Cobras’, the team’s name, emblazoned across his chest in crisp, white letters. Not that she’s looking at his chest. Or his calves. Dammit, she’s never really been one to notice a man’s legs before. Why does her stupid brain have to start now? Emma swallows hard, trying to will her pulse back to a normal pace.

“Swan! Glad you could make it,” he says, a now familiar smirk gracing his lips. “You look lovely in green.”

“Well, it is the team’s color,” she replies with a shrug. Of course that’s why she wore this top. Not because it has a particularly flattering neckline, and certainly not because he mentioned that green was his favorite color the other day. “Just showing some team spirit.” She manages to keep her voice even, but he’s raking his eyes over her, swaying further into her space and licking his lips and dammit why is her face heating up like this?

“Right,” he says, leaning in and lowering his voice as if imparting a secret. “I rather fancy that shade of pink on you as well.”

Emma glares at him, but her flush only deepens. She huffs in frustration, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Was there something you wanted?”

He chuckles and steps back to a more respectable distance, but there is mischief in his eyes. “Oh, Swan, there are a great many things I want,” he answers with a wink, and Emma’s stomach does a strange little flip.

He pauses a beat, bouncing on the balls of his feet and his demeanor shifts from cocky to something more sincere. “But, I only meant to inquire about the steaks I sent over. Did you like them?” His hand reaches up to scratch behind his ear in a surprising show of insecurity, and this time it’s Emma’s turn to smirk.

“Wait, was that your weird way of buying me dinner without actually having to ask me out?”

The tips of his ears turn red ( score one for Emma! ), but he manages to maintain his cool exterior. “Nothing of the sort, love. Merely a gesture of goodwill to my biggest customer.” Cool turns to flirtatious, and his sky blue eyes bore into hers. “I can assure you,” he drawls, “if I were to court you, you would know you were being courted.”

A voice in the back of her mind shouts that she does, in fact, know it, and she’s not really sure what to do with that knowledge yet. Emma realizes her mouth has fallen open slightly, so she swallows. “In that case, the steaks were delicious, though I’m not sure Henry even tasted his. He basically inhaled it.” Emma glances over to the bench, indicating the boy in question.

Killian laughs lightly. “I’m glad to hear it. Afraid to say, the hoovering of food is part and parcel for a growing lad. My brother used to insist that I must’ve had a hollow leg to eat as much as I did and stay so scrawny.”

Emma watches, her eyes widening as flashes of emotion cross his face in rapid succession: a warm smile at the memory is quickly replaced by a flicker of pain and finally covered with a blank mask. It may have been eight years since she’s heard about Killian’s brother, but she realizes exactly how big of a deal it is for Killian to have not only spoken of him at all, but to mention him so casually and cheerfully.

The fact that he would be so unguarded with her, even for just a second, well… it matters , and Emma feels the weight of the moment at odds with a funny sort of lightening sensation in her heart. She reaches out to touch Killian’s arm, but as soon as her fingers make contact, he subtly pulls away, turning to face toward the field.

Okay then , Emma thinks. New tactic. In order to change the subject, or rather return to the previous one, Emma bumps her shoulder against his.

“Anyway, thanks for the steaks.” When he turns to her with an arched brow, she feigns a scowl and adds, “But you really shouldn’t have.”

Dimples cut into his cheeks as that damn eyebrow raises higher. “Ah, Swan, it was my pleasure. Besides, I told you I’d be more than happy to slip a little extra meat in your box anytime.”

“And we’re back to the innuendo.” Emma rolls her eyes, but a smile flirts with the corners of her lips. They’re quiet for a beat. Killian turns his attention back to where David seems to be giving the boys a pre-game pep talk. Emma glances down the sidelines. Now that she’s taken a minute to notice, she’s painfully aware of the looks they’re getting from some of the other team moms, ranging from casual ogling of Killian to outright jealousy of the attention he’s paying her.

Emma clears her throat, drawing Killian’s attention back to her. “Get outta here, Jones. Go do coach-y things.” She gives his shoulder a one-handed shove vaguely in the direction of the field and he laughs, the spark he’d lost for a moment now blazing back full force.

“As you wish,” he replies, inclining his head to her in semblance of a bow before turning and jogging over to join his team. She shakes her head, chuckling softly at his ridiculousness. He casts one last look at her over his shoulder, and she can't help but smile at him.

Interesting , Emma thinks as the referee blows a whistle to officially start the game. Things get awkward or a little too real and he reverts to flirting and innuendo. For a man who likes to talk about her defense mechanisms, he seems to have one or two of his own.

Emma walks over to the cooler one of the parents brought and grabs a can of Diet Dr. Pepper. By now, Mary Margaret has resumed her seat on the sidelines, so Emma joins her to settle in and watch the game.

And Emma does watch the game. Mostly. Middle school intramural soccer isn’t the most riveting thing ever, but she does genuinely enjoy watching Henry have fun. The boys actually seem to be playing a little bit better this week, too, so maybe David made the right call asking Killian to help out as a coach.

Emma’s known forever that David was good with kids - Henry calls him Uncle David for a reason - but as she looks down the sidelines for probably the hundredth time, she has to admit that David isn’t the only one looking like a pro with the boys. Watching Killian now, Emma can hardly believe she ever thought he could be anti-kid.

He’s enthusiastic, encouraging, and the team clearly respects him. He’s animated to the point that it’s hilarious. He gets so excited when the team scores their first goal that his voice actually cracks as he cheers them on. He scowls and snarls every time the referee makes a call he doesn’t agree with. His hands have spent so much time pulling at his hair in anxiety on the boys’ behalf that it’s now sticking up haphazardly in every direction. And that is in no way attractive as hell.

Not to mention that he and David make quite the pair, between all the high-fiving and chest bumping - a fact not lost on Mary Margaret.

“Well, I think Tom Brady has officially been replaced as David’s man-crush.” Mary Margaret says, snapping Emma out of her reverie. Emma tries and most likely fails to make it seem as though she wasn’t just staring at Killian - another fact Mary Margaret picks up on. “You know, if you don’t want to go out with Killian, I think my husband might.”

Emma snorts a laugh, and Mary Margaret continues. “Actually you both may have some competition.” She bobs her head to the side, indicating where she wants Emma to look. “Don’t those three hussies have kids on the other team? The way they’re looking at Killian, I think they’ve got more than good sportsmanship in mind.”

“Did you seriously just say ‘hussies’?” Slowly turning her head in an attempt to be subtle, Emma scans the sideline (again) and sure enough, a trio of buxom blondes has appeared practically out of nowhere and is rather effusively trying to ply Killian with Gatorade, giggling and fawning at him the whole time. Something feral stomps and growls in Emma’s gut at the sight, but it’s quickly tempered with a little bit of amusement at how utterly (if politely) uninterested Killian appears and how much the spectacle seems to be irritating Gaston, the opposing coach.

“I think you may be right,” Emma replies as coolly as she can, despite the fact that Killian keeps darting glances her way, his eyes seeming to beg for a rescue from his new admirers. At this point she’s trying not to smirk from an irrational sense of triumph, but she refuses to give Mary Margaret the satisfaction. “Can we please just watch the game?”

Emma takes a sip of her canned drink as Mary Margaret eyes her knowingly. “Yeah, it’s definitely the game that you’ve been watching.”

“New subject,” Emma says, the implied ‘don’t push it’ hanging in the air between them.

“Fine.”

Eventually the three women give up and head back to their own sideline. As they walk away, Emma unclenches her jaw, realizing she’s been biting the inside of her cheek the whole time. The game is going well and she’s just starting to relax when Mary Margaret casually sips from her water bottle and peers at Emma from the corner of her eye.

“So your birthday is this Thursday.”

Shit. After twenty two years of friendship are we really having this conversation again? “I guess so,” Emma replies, deliberately keeping her eyes on the field. “Hey, that was a pretty good pass.” Emma pops up from her lawn chair, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Go Henry!” she hollers, catching his attention briefly and earning her a quick, subtle thumbs-up from her favorite boy.

Emma settles back into her seat and Mary Margaret continues, blatantly ignoring the fact that Emma is blatantly ignoring her. “It’s your thirtieth.”

“Uh huh.” Emma scowls as a kid from the other team steals the ball and begins dribbling it back down the field in the other direction. She knows Mary Margaret isn’t going to let up, but she’s determined not to make it easy for her friend to lure her into a conversation about her birthday. Mary Margaret has been dropping hints for weeks about planning a birthday party for Emma, but really - she knows how Emma feels about the subject. Just because “It’s a milestone, Emma,” and “You’ve come so far, Emma,” doesn’t mean she’s ready to embrace Mary Margaret’s ideas about celebrations and specialness.

It’s not until she hears Mary Margaret’s sharp exhale of annoyance that she finally turns to face her friend. Emma can’t stop the immature roll of her eyes in response to the “teacher-face” she receives.

“Okay, how about this?” Mary Margaret asks in her most reasonable tone. “You and Henry can come over to our house Thursday night after the boys get done with their practice. I’ll cook a big meal and we can all have just a nice, low-key family dinner together. Sound okay?”

Emma purses her lips, considering the offer. “Something greasy and unhealthy?”

Mary Margaret smiles indulgently. “I’ll bust out the deep fryer if I have to. And bake you a cake.”

“No. No birthday cake. No candles. And no singing.”

“You’re telling me you don’t want dessert?” Mary Margaret raises her eyebrow skeptically.

“I didn’t say that ,” Emma hedges. “You could make those homemade cinnamon rolls I like…”

“That’s a breakfast food, not a dessert.”

Emma does her best impression of the puppy eyes Henry likes to use on her when he wants something. “But it’s my birthday?”

Mary Margaret shakes her head and chuckles. “Done. So we’ll see you Thursday night?”

“Okay. We’ll be there.” Emma leans sideways to bump her shoulder against her friend’s. It’s a small gesture, but she hopes after all these years that Mary Margaret understands what she means. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for giving a damn about me. Thank you for not pushing. When she opens her mouth, however, all that comes out is a simple, “Thanks.”

—/—

Several hours later, Emma finds herself wishing all her friends were as understanding as Mary Margaret.

Henry’s team lost, but the score was much closer than the last game. Since Emma had to go back to the restaurant, Henry - after giving Emma a very sweet, but sweaty hug - hitched a ride home with David and Mary Margaret. At the time Emma left, Killian had been busy talking with other team parents, and Emma noted with some degree of smugness that the other moms from Henry's team were a lot less brash about ogling the hot coach when their husbands were standing right next to them. Though she and Killian had actually gotten along pretty well at the beginning of the game (okay, they’d flirted shamelessly), she was relieved that she could slip away from the game without much more than a wave goodbye from a distance. The way he’d smiled at her was something she wasn’t prepared to think about too deeply.

And speaking of things she didn’t want to think about...

“Ruby, no.” Her phone had rung nearly the second she’d walked into her house after closing down the restaurant for the night. She expected it to be David calling to let her know that he was about to bring Henry home, so she was surprised to see Ruby’s number on her phone screen. It didn’t take long for Ruby to make her motives for calling crystal clear.

“Ruby, YES.” Emma can hear her friend’s wicked grin even through her shitty cell phone connection. “Emma, it’s your Dirty Thirty! You HAVE to have a party.”

“I have…” Emma flounders for a word that will get Ruby off her ass about throwing some ridiculous drunken fiasco in honor of Emma’s birthday, but finally decides no such word exists. “Plans,” she finishes lamely.

“Uh huh. Yeah. And what are these plans exactly?”

“Having dinner at David and Mary Margaret’s.”

As expected, Ruby scoffs. “That doesn’t begin to count as a party, hon’.”

“Hey! You know I’m not into the whole birthday thing, and it’s actually a pretty big deal for me to have someone else do the cooking for once. Besides, I’m bringing a date.”

“YOU MEAN YOU FINALLY ASKED KILLIAN OUT AND YOU DIDN’T TELL - Oh, wait. You mean Henry, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

Ruby’s sighs dramatically. “Emma, I love Henry to death. He’s my favorite little dude, so don’t get me wrong here. But you need some grown up fun. So, go have your nice family tea party with the Nolans on Thursday night, but by 10pm on Friday I expect your ass to be in my bar. That’s when the fun begins.”

Emma grunts, both a show of frustration and a wordless admission of defeat. “Remind me why I’m friends with you again?”

Before Ruby can answer, Emma hears the front door open and Henry shuffles in with a sleepy, “Hey, mom.” She smiles at him and reaches out to scratch his back as he passes her, heading straight toward the kitchen.

“Because I gave you your first tube of lipstick. And because you love me,” Ruby replies smugly.

Emma smiles to herself. “Yeah, I guess it was something like that. Alright, I’ll see you Friday, Rubes.”

Emma hangs up her phone, just as Henry emerges from the kitchen, a plate of leftovers in his hand.

“What’d Aunt Ruby call about?” he asks around a mouthful of food.

“Didn’t you eat dinner at the Nolans’?” Emma responds, ignoring his question for the moment.

He rolls his eyes, a habit he unfortunately inherited from her. “I did , but you know, losing really works up an appetite,” he answers with a cheeky grin.

“Hm. If you say so, kid, but I was really hoping you’d be further into your teens before you started eating us out of house and home.” Emma sighs. “Anyway, I was just telling Aunt Ruby that you and I are going over to Aunt Mary Margaret and Uncle David’s house for a big dinner on Thursday. You can walk home from practice and take a shower, and I’ll come pick you up from the house to drive over there.”

“Cool! Is this a thing for your birthday?” He shovels more food in his mouth.

Emma nods, not wanting to get into a birthday discussion with yet another person today. “How about you go sit down with that.” She gestures at his plate. “At least pretend you weren’t raised in a barn?”

Henry moves over to the couch, setting his plate down on the coffee table in front of him. Emma follows and settles down on the cushion next to him.

“Nah, I was raised by wolves,” he says, picking up the remote and clicking on the TV.

It’s Emma’s turn to roll her eyes. She wonders how Granny and Ruby would feel about that particular turn of phrase, since they were his constant babysitters most of his early life.

“Aunt Ruby also wants me to go hang out with her at Howl on Friday night after I close down the restaurant. Think you can spend the night at Avery’s?”

Henry frowns. “I think his family is going out of town that weekend.”

Emma ponders this for a moment. “How about I ask Granny if you can stay over at her house?” It’s not as exciting an option as a sleepover with friends, but Emma and Henry both know full well Granny will spoil the snot out of him. There will definitely be a pie involved.

She can see the wheels in her son’s head turning, and a small smile begins to tickle at the corners of his lips. “Yeah. That’d be okay I guess,” he answers with feigned disinterest.

Emma reaches over and tousles his hair. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”

—/—

The sky has slowly turned from overcast to downright threatening as the boys finish their last round of drills on Sunday afternoon. Killian is thankful when David blows his whistle to signal the end of practice. To be honest, he’d hardly been paying attention the last half hour anyway, not since Emma came outside her restaurant to bring him and David large take-out cups of ice tea. She hadn’t said much, just an exchange of pleasantries really, but there was something in her smile today - half-hidden, but present nonetheless - that filled him with hope.

He’s winning her over, he thinks. He feels it in his bones. His goodwill gesture seemed to have had the intended effect, and he doesn’t believe he’s deluding himself in thinking that they shared something of a moment before the game yesterday. Bloody hell, they’d been so at ease with each other bantering back and forth that he’d actually talked about… He shakes himself out of the memory and begins rounding up footballs (he still refuses to call them soccer balls) and gear to load into David’s truck.

“Heads up, coach!”

Killian looks up in time to see Henry throw a ball his direction and he snags it out of the air one-handed. “Oi! There’s no throwing in football,” he says with a feigned scowl, but Henry’s clearly not buying it. He rolls his eyes at Killian before jogging the rest of the way over. “Good practice today, lad. I’ll see you Thursday evening, yeah?”

Henry smiles brightly. “Oh! Are you going to my mom’s birthday party then?”

Killian blinks in surprise. “Well, I meant I’d see you at our next practice. Is your mother’s birthday on Thursday as well?”

“Yeah!” Henry replies. “The party’s at Uncle David and Aunt Mary Margaret’s house. She’s an awesome cook. You should totally come!” As the lad pauses for breath, David walks over to join them. “Uncle David, tell Killian he has to come over on Thursday.”

David places his hands on his hips and shrugs, a half smile tilting his lips. “Well, from what I hear, Mary Margaret’s planning on making enough food to feed an army, so the more the merrier as far as I’m concerned. You remember how to get there?”

“Aye, I can find it,” Killian answers. “Thanks for the invite, mate. Let me double check that Scarlett and Smee can handle things at work for the whole evening, but it shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Great!” Henry exclaims. “See ya Thursday, Killian.” With that he dashes off into Swan’s Bar-B-Q to work on homework or eat a side of beef or whatever it is young lads do.

It takes approximately ten seconds for realization to come crashing down on him. It’s Emma’s bloody birthday which means he needs to get her a present , and he doubts raw meat is going to cut it this time. It can’t be anything too extravagant or intimate. It’s far too soon for that. It must be unassuming, yet thoughtful. Something that will impress her, but not overwhelm her.

Bloody hell, he needs to call in reinforcements.

—/—

“Rob, I need to speak to the missus.”

“Killian. Nice to talk to you, too. Oh my day was lovely, thanks for asking. Now why are you calling me at eleven o’clock at night to speak to my wife?”

Killian sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. Robin is going to take the piss out of him for this. “I need shopping advice.”

“I should say so. I told you your whole black-on-black aesthetic was far too citified for small town life. Unless you’re trying to pass for Johnny Cash.”

“That’s not what-” Killian huffs in frustration. “Just put Regina on the phone. Please. ”

There's a pause where he hears muffled voices in the background. After some shuffling sounds, Regina’s familiar businesslike voice comes on the line.

“Jones, I hear you’re in need of a personal shopper. It’s about time.”

“If you and your husband are quite finished critiquing my fashion sense, then yes. I, erm…” he hesitates, not sure how much Robin has told Regina about Emma. “I need help selecting a birthday present.”

“For whom?”

“A woman.”

“Okay.” He can hear the growing irritation in Regina’s voice. “Are we talking a co-worker? Social acquaintance? You don’t date, so it couldn’t be-” The line goes quiet and Killian assumes Regina is looking to Robin for some kind of confirmation. “It’s for that woman. Emma, right? Sounds like you finally took Robin’s advice and talked to her.”

“Aye, it’s for Emma. Things have been going a bit better of late. Her son invited me to her birthday party and I haven’t a bloody clue what to get her.”

“There’s a lot to unpack in what you just said, but I’ll let it slide for now.” Regina hummed in thought. “A bottle of wine would be tasteful without being over the top. Do you know her favorite varietal?”

“I don’t think she’s much of a wine drinker, to be honest. As I recall she prefers rum.”

“Why am I not surprised? A book, perhaps. That could be personal, but not overly intimate.”

“She works long hours like I do and she has a young son at home. I doubt she has much in the way of free time for reading.”

“So what do you know about her interests?” Regina’s voice had gone flat, well, flatter than usual.

Killian sighs, scratching behind his ear even though no one is around to see it. “I know she likes flowers and rum and Dr. Pepper. She told me she likes cheap clothing and expensive makeup, but I wouldn’t dare attempt to buy her any of that. She cooks and runs a barbecue restaurant just down the road from mine. Perhaps I should get her something for her kitchen?”

“Wait, she’s your competition? Then no. Any cooking-related gifts could be seen as some sort of passive-aggressive insult.”

God, he hadn’t considered that. “Bloody hell, Regina, what am I supposed to get her then?”

He hears Regina take a deep breath and exhale slowly. Finally she answers, “I don’t know, Jones. Buy her some flowers. Maybe get her something from one of those fancy bath shops at the mall. That’s a solid default gift. Besides, if she works as hard as you say, she might appreciate a relaxing bubble bath on occasion.”

The idea of getting Emma a ‘default’ gift hardly thrills him, but he knows he’s reached the end of Regina’s patience. “Alright. I’ll think about it. Thanks, Regina.”

—/—

He had driven forty-five minutes to get to a town large enough to support a shopping mall, but that’s nothing compared to the two hours he’s been wandering aimlessly around this god forsaken place. Shop after shop he’s searched, but nothing seems right.

He stops in the food court to buy himself a soft pretzel on the vague hope that a dose of salt and carbohydrates will somehow spark his inspiration. As he takes a seat at a wobbly and disturbingly sticky table, he looks up and sees it. Directly across from his spot in the food court, large obnoxious yellow signs with red letters proclaim some kind of sale as well as, “For a limited time only: Throwback Favorites!” He hasn’t a clue what that last bit means, but Regina’s suggestion looms large in his mind, and he’s getting a bit desperate.

By the store’s entryway, a lass in a red apron is offering a sample spray of whatever scent is on feature to a teenage girl who’d stopped to eye the display. Apparently the scent is a “90’s classic” that the girl simply must try. The girl nods her assent and the saleswoman spritzes her liberally as Killian returns his attention to the snack in front of him. He’s two bites into his pretzel when the aroma from the bath shop finally hits him - clean, sweet and achingly familiar even after all this time.

The song goes into its final cadenza, and Killian decides to show off a bit. Well...perhaps he’s been showing off a tad the entire song, but this woman has met him step for step. He’s mesmerized by the way her firm, supple body moves with him, every push and pull, every swivel of her hips, every swish of her hair.

He’d pulled her into his arms hard and fast when they’d first reached the dance floor, just trying to get a rise out of her, but damned if the sensation of holding her for the first time didn’t very nearly get ‘rise’ out of him. The press of her breasts against his chest, her pelvis against his thighs… He’d had to swallow hard, counting backwards from ten to get his body’s reaction to her back under control.

Now she’s laughing, flushed and breathless, eyes bright and he thinks she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He takes her through an elaborate spin, then pulls her in close, one hand at the small of her back, the other sliding up into her hair to cradle her head. He dips her low as the final chord lingers in the air, and she lifts her chin, granting him access to ghost his nose down the long column of her throat to her collarbone. He holds her there just for a second, just long enough to breathe her in. She smells like heaven. A hint of salt, a dash of something sweet and fresh.

Slowly he raises her back to standing, releasing his embrace and simply letting his hands rest on her hips. Her hair falls forward to frame her face, but he can still see the pretty blush on her cheeks beneath the gossamer strands. He watches her eyes flick down to rest on his lips, her own pink mouth subtly parting. He wants to kiss her - gods above does he want to kiss her - and he will. She’s made it fairly clear where this evening is headed after all. But it’s too soon and it’s too public. They have all night.

Killian huffs a laugh at himself and shakes his head. Perhaps Regina had the right idea after all, though damned if he’ll tell her that. He stands and makes his way toward the store. He knows just what to do.

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. ;-)

#captain swan ff #cs ff #cs modern au #the meat cute #cs barbecue au

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dayandnight-blue · 5 years

Text

I Do

anonymous asked:

oooh! i've never seen one for seventeen where they object at a wedding! (could it be a male reader?)

it's okay! gender neutral would work great! more fans could read it!!

jeonghan would be great!

Sorry for taking a little long! Tumblr ate my first draft for some reason. Hope you like it! I actually had another idea relating to him objecting at your wedding it’s also way more angsty so if you want to see that one, feel free to request! This hasn’t been proofread yet, so I’m sorry for any mistakes!

~Admin Jinx°-°

Member/s: Jeonghan

Genre: Angst

Summary: Everyone wants their wedding day to be perfect. You’re no exception. The special day is actually going great until someone unexpected makes his presence known to you.

You stare into the eyes of your significant other and you wonder how you got so lucky. Getting married to your partner of a few years, holding the wedding at your dream venue, all your closest friends and family present. You couldn’t ask for anything more.

The wedding officiant’s words go into one of your ears and straight out the other. Nothing right at the moment matters to you more than your soon-to-be spouse. Although, everything seems perfect, since the day started, there’s been a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. You’ve convinced yourself that it’s a minor case of cold feet, but something in you knows it’s something else.

You lose your train of thought in your partner’s smile. It’s the biggest you’ve ever seen them smile, if you were being honest. The thought making you break out into a grin of your own.

The officiant’s practiced words are only background noise to the silent conversation of ‘I love you’s and ‘I’m so happy’s you and your love share.

“I object!” a once familiar voice rings through the venue. Everyone’s eyes snap in the same direction. There he stands, in a suit you remember him wearing when you brought him to your aunt’s wedding as your date. It’s been years since you saw him last, but it seems like he hasn’t aged a day.

Silence ensues as a staring contest between the two of you and Jeonghan commences. When no one utters a word, he takes calm steps, leaving his place a few seats to the back of the venue to walk down the aisle and to you. He stands in front of you with desperate eyes searching yours.

You’re shocked to say the least. You wonder what this boy could want from you. You’re surprised he’s here at all with how your relationship with him ended. The two of you were not on speaking terms and you sent the invitation as a formality. You used to be friends, after all.

“I object,” he repeats firmly. You’re confused. Was the relationship not ended on mutual agreement? If you remember correctly, it was he who proposed that you two end it. What was he doing here now? Anger and confusion flood your mind, but mostly, it’s anger. Of course he shows up when you’re supposed to be at your happiest. Of course he shows up and ruins it.

You don’t hear what the officiant says next or how Jeonghan answers or how your significant other reacts. “Leave,” you say, sternly cutting through their words.

Jeonghan looks surprised by you suddenly speaking up. “Wait, Y/N, let me explain-”

“Leave, Jeonghan,” you turn to fully face him now. “You have no business here.”

The anger is evident on your features, but Jeonghan persists, “Y/N, I’ve come to-”

“Yes, Jeonghan, you’ve come,” you collect your thoughts for a moment, breathing in and the out and letting your rage subside. “Now, you should leave.”

“Y/N, please, just listen to me for a moment, I-” his voice cracks and it’s only now you notice the tears collecting at the corner of his eyes. This angers you more when you remember yourself asking the same thing from him just nights before your breakup.

“You listen to me, Yoon Jeonghan,” you start, your voice firm, which surprises him further. “Leave.”

You unknowingly enter a staring contest with him which he gives up from after a few seconds. “Goodbye.” he murmurs, his eyes now trained on the floor.

He turns around without a response from you. All eyes are on him as he walks out the venue and hopefully, your life.

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theycallmebeccawrites · 5 years

Text

One Shot: Making It Official

With Tumblr holding my original writing blog @beccaheartschrisevans captive (aka flagged as explicit), I have made a secondary writing blog and may end up closing the other all together. In the meantime, I am reposting all of my stories on my new blog.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Kimber Ramsey (OFC)

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: graphic sex

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

18+ Disclaimer: This work contains sexual material that is for those over the age of 18. By clicking the keep reading link below, you are agreeing that you are over the age of 18 and are not offended by sexual content.

This story is also available on AO3.

Kimber Ramsey was on her lunch break when the first text from Chris Evans came through:

Go away with me this weekend?

She smiled at the idea, thinking it would be lovely to get out of the city for a couple days. At the same time, however, she felt a little nervous. She and Chris had only met a couple months ago, albeit through mutual friends, but they still hadn't had the "relationship" discussion to determine if they were exclusive or not. Not that Kimber was seeing anyone else and she didn't think he was either, but he was famous and women were constantly flirting with him, even when they were on a date and she was sitting right across from him.

Needing more information from him, Kimber replied:

Where to?

His response came a couple minutes later.

My cabin. It's about an hour away. In the woods.

Thanks to years of watching crime dramas and reading mystery novels, Kimber's anxiety level rose at the thought of going to a, likely secluded, cabin in the woods. Logically, she knew her reaction was unwarranted, because she knew that Chris wouldn't hurt a fly; maybe a spider or someone who hurt someone he cared about, but even then, she had a hard time seeing it.

Needing to ease her mind, Kimber sent a quick text to her friend who'd introduced her to Chris that past summer.

Chris asked me to go away with him for the weekend.

Alison's response was almost immediate:

Oh my god! That is fantastic!! I told you that you were perfect for each other!!

Kimber chewed on my lower lip as she typed her reply:

So I should say yes?

Seconds after sending the text, Kimber's phone started ringing and her friend's face was displayed. Kimber accepted the call and barely got "hey" out of her mouth before Alison started talking.

"Are you seriously thinking about declining?" she demanded.

"He wants to take me to his cabin in the woods," Kimber explained. "That sounds like the start of an episode of SVU."

"This isn't SVU though," Alison insisted. "This is Chris Evans! Let's pretend for a second that he isn't one of my husband's best friends. If he was a creeper that killed his girlfriends, he would have already been caught and put in jail! But he isn't. He is a famous actor. He isn't going to cut you up and stick you in his freezer."

"I know that," Kimber sighed. "I'm just nervous. We've only been seeing each other for a few months. Isn't it a little fast to go away together?"

"Haven't you stayed the night at each other's places?"

"Well, yes, mostly at my place, though, because I have to get up earlier than he does."

"So treat this like that. Except you're going to his place. Stop overthinking things."

"You're right. I'm overthinking this. Thanks."

"You're welcome! Now go tell Mr. Hottie that you'll go with him this weekend."

After hanging up with Alison, Kimber sent Chris a text accepting his invitation for the weekend. He replied almost instantly:

Perfect! I'll pick you up at your place Friday night after work.

By the time Friday rolled around, Kimber was more than ready to escape the city. Work had been absolutely insane during the last couple of days and she couldn't wait to leave the office. She even took a shorter lunch so she could leave earlier than she usually did.

Since she had packed her weekend bag the night before, all Kimber had to do when she got home was take a quick shower (taking extra care to not get her hair wet), put some makeup on and then get dressed.

It took her roughly 45-minutes to get everything done and, when Chris knocked on her door, she was ready to go. Opening the door, she smiled when she found him standing with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark wash jeans. He was wearing a red, plaid, long sleeve shirt with a black shirt underneath it.

"Hey," he greeted. He slipped his hands from his pockets and leaned in, giving her a short peck on the lips. Leaning back, he took in her black leggings and short sleeve tunic top then shook his head. "I don't think you're going to be warm enough in that."

"Really?" Kimber asked, looking down at her outfit.

"Really." Chris nodded. "Do you mind if I take a look at what you have?"

"Uh, sure," Kimber replied. Stepping back, she let him into her apartment and then closed the door after him. "You know where the bedroom is." She grabbed her weekender bag then followed Chris back to her bedroom. "Anything in particular you're looking for?"

"Jeans, sweatshirt, flannel," Chris rattled off as he opened her closet door after getting her nod of approval.

"The jeans I have, the other two I don't," Kimber replied. "I have sweaters and cardigans though."

"I'll just loan you some of mine," he told her. "I always bring extras." Reaching into the closet, he pulled out two pairs of her jeans then grabbed a couple long sleeved shirts.

"What about pajamas?" she asked him as she removed what she'd packed the night before from her weekender bag. "I think I have a pair of s-"

"We'll stay plenty warm without pajamas," he told her, a smile playing on his lips. "We both know I become a furnace when I sleep."

Kimber smirked at his words, despite the fact that her cheeks warmed. She lifted the silk nightgown from her bag and dropped it onto the bed. Looking up, she saw Chris give her an approving nod.

She repacked her bag and then, after Chris left the room, she changed into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. She tossed one of her favorite sweaters into her bag and then zipped it up. Carrying it out of the room, she found Chris sitting on the couch waiting for her.

"Alright, I'm ready to go," she told him.

"Excellent." Chris smiled. Getting up, he took the bag from her and carried it out to the car for her. He opened her door and then closed it once she was in the car. Then he opened the trunk to put her bag in and pulled out one of his plaid shirts from his own bag before closing the trunk. Walking to his side of the car, he opened it and climbed in.

"Thank you." Kimber smiled after he handed her the shirt. She leaned forward and slipped the shirt on over her long sleeved shirt. She felt warm immediately and loved the way his spicy scent lingered on the well-loved fabric. "You might never get this back."

"We'll see about that." Chris chuckled as he started the car.

The traffic was heavy as they left the city, but the closer they got to his wooded retreat, the fewer cars they saw. They made small talk as they traveled and it was just after sunset when Chris turned onto a gravel road. The drive to his cabin took a few more minutes and before she knew it he was pulling up in front of a small cabin.

"I should warn you right now it's a little rustic and pretty small," he told her.

"Do you have running water? Or am I going to have to use an outhouse?" she asked him, sounding serious as a smile played her lips.

"Yes, there is running water." He chuckled. "And no, there is a small, but fully plumbed bathroom inside."

"Then I won't make you drive me back to the city," she teased. Getting out of the car, she met him at the trunk and took her own bag while he grabbed his bag as well as a bag of groceries.

He led her up a gravel path to the door and unlocked it. He led the way inside and set his bag down so he could turn on a light.

The cabin was small, Kimber agreed as she took it all in. The front half of the cabin was a sitting area with a wood burning stove. The back part of the cabin had one door which she suspected was to the bathroom. Next to the bathroom was a small kitchen area. Above the kitchen and bathroom was a loft with a ladder leading up to it.

"The bed is in the loft," Chris told her as he carried the bag of groceries over to the tiny kitchen and set them on the small table. "But the couch has a pull-out bed that we can sleep on if heights aren't your thing."

"I think I'll be ok up there," Kimber replied and then got a little flirty. "Especially with a strong man like yourself to keep me from falling."

Chris laughed and flexed the arm. "I think I can handle that."

"My hero," Kimber said in a falsetto voice that rolled right into laughter. "Ok, now that I'm done stroking your ego -"

"No, please, by all means, keep stroking me… I mean, it," Chris said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Kimber shook her head as she smiled. "You gotta feed me first," she told him.

"That can be arranged," Chris said as he turned on the baseboard heater to take the chill out of the cabin. "You can put your bag on the floor by mine."

Kimber set her bag down, took off her shoes and then joined him in the kitchen area. She watched as he pulled a few things out of the bag and then put them in the cupboard.

"I keep this place pretty much stocked throughout the year," he told her as he worked. "I either come up here alone or with my family," he said as he put the few fresh ingredients he'd brought into the refrigerator.

Kimber noticed, immediately, that he hadn't mentioned bringing women to his cabin. She chewed on her lower lip, trying to keep herself from asking the question she was dying to ask, but she ultimately gave in. "So you've never brought a woman up here?" she asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Nope, you're the first one," he replied, turning to smile at her. "That obviously means you're pretty special." Leaning over, he stole a kiss before he straightened up. "Alright, how does spaghetti sound for dinner?"

"Fantastic," Kimber replied with a happy smile on her face. He hadn't called her his girlfriend, but he'd suggested that she meant more to him than the women he'd dated in the past.

"Good, because I didn't have a plan b." Chris pulled a jar of spaghetti sauce from the cupboard.

"Are Italians allowed to use spaghetti sauce from a jar?" Kimber teased. "I mean, does your mother know?"

"Yes we are and I'll have you know that my mom bought this jar of sauce," Chris replied then stuck his tongue out at her. "My mom doesn't like to spend hours in the kitchen when she's on vacation. It's the only time she uses shortcuts like sauce from a jar."

"Good to know." Kimber took in the small cabin again and furrowed her brow when she recalled Chris saying that his whole family came up here from time to time. She hadn't met his family yet, but he loved to talk about them and she knew there were a lot of them. "Chris, how exactly does your family fit in this cabin?"

"Oh we don't," he replied as he dumped ground sausage into a skillet to brown. "My mom, sisters and niece sleep in the cabin with the toilet and running water while my brother, brother-in-law, nephews and myself sleep outside in tents." He chuckled to himself. "It's the only place my sister lets her boys pee outside. They love it."

"Boys are so weird." Kimber shook her head. She moved to the window that looked out into the area behind the cabin, but it was too dark to see anything.

"I'll show you the area surrounding the cabin tomorrow," Chris told her. "It's still a bit baron this time of year, but before long the wildflowers will be blooming."

"I bet it's lovely here during the summer," Kimber said, turning away from the window and watching him cook.

"Best place for watching the stars," he replied. "There's a small lake not too far away and I love listening to the water hit the shore while taking in the billions and billions of stars." He turned away from the cooking and met her eyes. "I can't wait to take you out there this summer."

"Really?" Kimber asked, surprised by his words although she was extremely flattered that he saw a future for them.

"You sound surprised," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Why?"

Kimber chewed on her lower lip as she tried to come up with an answer to his question. The obvious one was that they hadn't discussed a future together let alone decided to be boyfriend and girlfriend, but she didn't want to go there if that wasn't what he was saying. That said, it would maybe it was better to get it all out in the open now and be done with it?

"Kimber?" he asked, his voice showing concern.

"What are we, exactly?" she asked him. "Are we just seeing each other? Dating? Exclusive?"

Chris turned the temperature down on the stove then came over to her. "What do you want us to be?" he asked her.

"I asked you first," she replied, nervously as she looked up into his blue eyes.

"Alright," Chris smiled as he took her hand. "I'm 35, almost 36, and I've dated a lot during the last twenty years or so."

Kimber's felt her stomach churn and tried to keep her feelings to herself, but he saw right through her.

"Hold on, I'm getting to the point where I'll answer your question," he assured her, fighting back a laugh. "You're different from all the women I've dated and or slept with and in a great way. There is a reason why you are the first woman I've brought to this cabin, Kimber." He squeezed her hand. "You want to know what I want us to be? I want to be your boyfriend, for now, and someday, I hope I can be more than that."

"Really?" she squeaked out as she stared up at him with her green eyes open wide.

"Really," he nodded. "I hope you feel the same way."

"Yes." She bobbed her head up and down. "I want to be your boyfriend, too." Her eyes widened and he started to laugh. "Girlfriend! I meant girlfriend! Oh my God."

Chris continued to laugh as he pulled her into his arms and held her against his chest. He couldn't get enough of the beautiful redhead who charmed him, turned him on, made him laugh, and made him want to be the best man he possibly could be all at the same time.

When he finally let go of her, they finished cooking together and then sat down at the small table that was positioned behind the couch. They talked as they ate and he kept her entertained by telling her stories about his family's adventures at the cabin: the countless family dinners that took place at the two picnic tables outside, the time he'd jumped into the creek that fed the lake to save his nephew's favorite teddy bear, and a handful of other stories, like the time he and his brother had gotten snowed in.

After they finished eating, Kimber helped Chris clean up the dinner dishes. Then, while he slipped into the bathroom, she opened her weekender bag and swapped the flannel shirt of Chris's she was still wearing for her favorite fuzzy, cream-colored sweater.

Then she climbed up the ladder to the loft and flipped the light switch. She let out a little gasp when the loft was suddenly lit with the soft glow from a string of lights hanging from the rafters. Leaving the ceiling, her eyes took in the rest of the loft. The only bed was made up of a couple large sleeping pads that were covered with blankets with extra blankets and sleeping bags stacked alongside.

Wanting to test the sleeping pad, she lowered herself onto one and then laid down. She let out a happy sigh when she felt how soft it was.

"Kimber?" she heard Chris call, a few minutes later.

"Up here," she called back, sitting up.

"I'm coming up," Chris announced then made his way up the ladder.

"Hi," Kimber said when he appeared.

"Hi," he replied. He made his way over to the bed, where she sat, and plopped down next to her. "You changed." He tugged softly on the arm of her sweater.

"So did you," she stated, gesturing to the gray sweatpants he was now wearing.

"These are more comfortable," he replied as he leaned back on his elbows. "Feel free to take off your jeans, too."

"But I don't have any pants to wear other than jeans," she reminded him.

"I promised to keep you warm," Chris replied with smirk. "And that's a promise I intend to keep."

Kimber studied him for a moment before she stood up and shimmed out of her jeans with her back towards him. When the jeans were below her knees, she lowered herself back to the sleeping pad and pulled them off with her socks.

Turning towards him, she crawled across the pads to where he was lounging and swung her leg over his waist so she was straddling him. She pushed him down so he was laying on his back with his head on pillow.

"Hi," she said, again.

"Hi," he replied, bringing his arms up and placing them on her hips. "You've got me where you wanted me, so now what are you going to do to me?"

Leaning forward, Kimber took his face in her hands then leaned in for a kiss. In this new position, her panty-covered pussy was positioned perfectly over his sweatpants-covered cock. She rocked her hips slightly as they kissed and giggled against his lips when he slid his hands up under her sweater and dug his fingers into her hips.

She could feel his cock hardening as they kissed and couldn't help but wiggle as she felt herself getting turned on, too. Pulling away, she trailed kisses down his neck and to skin at the top of his shirt. She pulled the collar aside to continue kissing him and slid her tongue over the tattoo on his clavicle.

Pushing herself into a sitting position, Kimber grabbed the hem of Chris's shirt and helped him take it off. Then she leaned forward again and showered his chest and torso in kisses and little nips. She swirled her tongue around each of his nipples, earning a groan from him. She made her way down to the patch of hair that disappeared under his sweatpants, but found her progress halted there by his hands.

"Shirt. Off." His words were short and to the point.

Climbing off of him, Kimber pulled her sweater over her head and then tossed it aside. She then pulled off the long sleeve shirt she'd been wearing underneath it, revealing a plain black bra. It wasn't the sexiest bra she owned, but it pushed the girls up and matched the panties she'd packed for the weekend.

"You're beautiful and hot and so sexy I want to fuck you into next week," Chris said as he took in her exposed skin.

In the past, when a lover had complimented her in the moment, she'd felt uncomfortable or shy, but there was something in the way Chris spoke and the way he was looking at her that made Kimber feel beautiful and sexy. She knew, with him, that he wasn't just saying the words to butter her up, he truly meant them.

"You make me feel beautiful and sexy," she told him, meeting his eyes. "And I love that."

Pushing himself up, Chris captured her lips in his for a searing kiss. By the time it ended, her body was humming with pleasure and she didn't care that he had distracted her from her original plan. After all, they had the whole weekend to play. Her eyes followed him as he climbed off of her and started to undress. She followed his lead and removed her bra and panties.

They were both naked, when they came back together. He pushed her back against the pillows deciding it was her turn to the be at the receiving end of the sweet torture she'd shown him earlier. He made his way down her body with his hands and mouth working in concert, his full beard tickling her skin as he went. She arched her back into his touch as he teased her nipples and massaged her breasts with his large hands.

The way his hands touched her became more deliberate, but gentler at the same time as he moved down her torso and past her hips. He eased her legs apart and then teased her sensitive inner thighs before moving his fingers to the velvety folds of her pussy.

Kimber's eyes closed as she lost herself in the pleasure that Chris was giving her. She bit down on her lips as he focused in on her clit and then felt tremors race through her body when his tongue joined in as his fingers slid down and slipped into her heated core. She rocked her hips in time with his digits and cried out as all of his attention sent her over the edge with a powerful orgasm.

As she recovered, she heard him tear open a condom wrapper and then felt him between her legs, a moment later. He slid into her slowly, allowing her body to adjust to his size, until he was in her completely. She wrapped her legs around his and grabbed his ass with one hand as he began to thrust in and out of her. Meanwhile, her other hand got lost in Chris's silky smooth hair as he nuzzled her neck.

Chris's hands started in her hair and behind her back, but as they both grew closer to orgasm, he pulled himself up onto his hands so he was hovering over her. She held onto his ass with both hands as he used the new position to go faster and deeper within her.

He came first, his groan low and drawn out. He lowered himself back on top of her and ground his lower body against hers as he continued moving, wanting to get her off, too. His mouth found hers for a passionate kiss then moved down to one of her breasts.

She became more vocal the closer she got to her release, which only encouraged him. Her body finally tightened from head to toe as she came, crying out and digging her fingernails into his ass as she did so.

Exhausted, Chris slid out of her and got rid of the condom. Then he collapsed next to her and closed his eyes. When Kimber snuggled into him, he wrapped an arm around her, making good on his promise to keep her warm.

Sometime during the night, they wrapped blankets around themselves, but he still used his body to keep her warm. She thanked him the next morning by waking him up with his cock in her mouth. He then fucked her from behind before they climbed down from the loft. She cooked breakfast while he showered and then they ate together with him wearing a pair of boxers and her wearing one of his unbuttoned, flannel shirts.

After eating, she took a shower while he cleaned up the kitchen. Then, once they were both dressed, Chris took Kimber outside to give her a tour of the area surrounding the cabin. They spent most of the afternoon outside, only coming back into the cabin for dinner, before going back outside once the sun had set for some stargazing.

Even though they'd stargazed on a plastic lounge chair while sharing a sleeping bag, they were both chilled when they came back into the house. They wasted no time striping off their clothes and climbing the ladder up to the loft to warm up the old-fashioned way. She was on top of him this time, riding him until they'd both come loudly and were sweaty from their fun.

Sunday morning dawned early and they had sex again before they each took a shower. Then Kimber helped Chris cleanup the cabin, preparing it for the next time someone came to use it. Then they had a quick lunch before getting into Chris's car to return to the city.

It was a bittersweet moment for Kimber when Chris pulled up in front of her place. He parked the car and then helped her carry her stuff up the stairs. He kissed her goodbye and promised to call her later that night.

Collapsing onto the couch, Kimber heard her phone ding and pulled it out of her purse. She smiled when she saw that Allison had texted her.

How was it?

Kimber took a minute to come up with a response then hit send, knowing Allison would call her back immediately.

I had a great weekend away with my boyfriend!

Sure enough, her phone rang a second later and, when she answered it, Allison screamed excitedly. She then proceeded to tell Kimber how she'd know the two of them were perfect for each other since she'd met Chris.

Kimber could only nod in agreement. She was no longer confused about her relationship status with Chris. Now all she had to stress over was the fact that he'd casually mentioned wanting to introduce her to his family. She considered mentioning it to Alison, but decided it was a topic for a different day.

Want to find me off tumblr? I’m @beccatheycallme on twitter. I also post my stories on AO3.

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