Tumgik
#i have literally half a page left and when i finish that its DONE and i'll post the rest i'll even queue em so i dont forget
tomswifty-fr · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Waterfest entry - Starry Sea!
54 notes · View notes
just-french-me-up · 11 months
Text
Harmonies
Dream of the Endless / Hob Gadling | Human AU | Writer Dream - Voice Actor Hob | Explicit | 2.2k Porn with some Plot | Masturbation | Literal voice porn | Dream doesn't quite know what to do with himself honestly
@hardly-an-escape recently had this FABULOUS idea of acclaimed writer Morpheus who secretly publishes popular romance novels under a pen name, who shamefully gets off while listening to voice actor Hob Gadling acting out an explicit scene from one of his romance stories. I would say my hand slipped but this was 100% planned and thought through.
Morpheus refreshed his inbox. Early afternoon, Lucienne had told him. He gave a quick glance at the clock. 5:42PM. Early afternoon was fading into late afternoon one second at a time, with nothing to show for it.
Morpheus refreshed his inbox. Again.
This is stupid, he thought, frustration seeping in. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Surely, they had not finished editing or formatting the whole thing yet, he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. Perhaps they had forgotten. Morpheus didn't usually request to be sent the beta recordings. He was more than happy to let them do their job unencumbered, trusting Lucienne to green light everything once it was done. Truth be told, he was barely involved in the whole audiobook side of things, except for, well, writing the damn thing in the first place and having his pen name slapped on the cover. Lucienne had arched an eyebrow at him when he'd asked for the latest recordings out of the blue, but had not been overly curious. A good thing, really. Morpheus carefully avoided any occasion that required him to lie through his teeth. This, no doubt, would have been one of them.
His phone buzzed, startling him.
[6PM 09/05/2023 – The Kindly Ones – Edit Zoom Meeting]
Morpheus turned off the reminder. Too many fires at once. That was his problem, his sister had told him once. Stretching yourself thin until you're see-through, she had said. She was not wrong, of course, although Morpheus would not admit it to her face. She would be far too smug about it.
He refreshed his inbox.
Inbox (1)
Morpheus froze and stared at the screen. There it was. Finally. His pulse racing, he reached for his headphones, struggling to plug it in in his haste. The file was slow to download, the recordings accounting for more than half of the book. Morpheus' fingers tapped impatiently against his desk as he watched the bar crawl to the finish line.
5:51PM.
Surely he could allow himself a quick browse through the file. The meeting with his editor―his other editor―wouldn't start for five more minutes, if not more, should they run a little late on their side. Morpheus found himself wishing they would. Unprofessional, a little voice admonished him.
He opened the file. It had been divided into sections, each corresponding to a chapter. Skip. Skip. Skip. He knew what he was looking for. The book had come out a year ago or so. He still remembered the outline well enough. For a while, he heard nothing but the initial breath of the voice actor, one for each chapter, before he would skip ahead. When he finally let the recording play, the voice engulfed him in its warmth.
Although Morpheus had been the one initially weaving the words and sentences together, they found another dimension and depth in that voice. He was rediscovering his work on someone else's tongue, and the effect left him... intrigued. A few voice actors had given life to the words on the page over the years but this one... This one breathed a soul into the story like none had ever managed to before.
When Morpheus had learnt Robert Gadling would narrate another one of his books, he could not resist.
The beta recordings were rough, lacking the polish of the final product, leaving intakes of breath in and other little imperfections editors would cut out. Morpheus could hear every huff, every chuckle when Gadling would stumble over a word and correct himself, going back to the beginning of the sentence. He could picture the smile on his lips then, the playfully apologetic look at the tech team. He had looked up pictures of him online, once. His face matched his voice: warm, inviting, with a hint of mischief. Suave, even. Morpheus had then closed the tab, embarrassed at his own thoughts.
The scene he had skipped to was professionally relevant, or, at least, he tried to convince himself it was. He had always understood sex scenes to be a tricky thing, for actors. At least, when it came to traditional acting, it was a shared awkwardness, a simulacrum of pleasure played by multiple people who could find solace in the fact that they were all on the same vulnerable boat, camera crew included. Now, voice actors... Acting choices could either make or break a sex scene. It required a subtle mix of smoothness and confidence few could manage. The last thing he wanted was for his words to sound clumsy and awkward, when the goal was quite the opposite. It was Morpheus' authorial prerogative to check every aspect of the audiobook fit his vision, after all.
As the chapter began and Robert Gadling's voice filled his ears, Morpheus imagined him in his recording booth, alone. Some audiobooks had multiple actors playing different characters, but this one only had him credited. There were slight fluctuations of tones, accents and speech patterns, as he switched characters. Morpheus listened intently.
"Gabriel gave a fleeting look downward. Nathan's shirt was soaked, revealing hints of the skin underneath. He tried not to stare, but only managed to do so through conscious and continuous effort. 'You should change your shirt before you catch something,' he told Nathan, his tone as casual as he could manage. 'You could borrow one of mine.' "
The acting was good. There was tension in the words, in the tone. The characters sounded like different people, even though they were played by the same man. Morpheus continued. In the book, things heated up quickly after a long, tentative courtship. He braced himself for the following scene, replaying the words in his head from memory.
" 'It smells like you.' Gabriel stared at him, stunned, unable to look away as Nathan stood in front of him, his own t-shirt and boxers for only garments. 'What?' he managed, his throat dry. 'It smells like you,' Nathan repeated, lifting the fabric to his nose with a smile. 'I like it.' Gabriel's gaze trailed down Nathan's body, only now noticing the growing outline of his cock aga―"
Morpheus paused. He had written those words. He knew those words, from having read and reread them a few dozen times during the writing and editing process. Yet he had never heard them. Especially not in that voice. Even the narration was sensual, almost cheeky, dripping with lust like honey. Clumsy and awkward it was not. It was.... something else entirely. Shaking off the feeling, Morpheus hit the 'play' button again.
" ―inst the taut fabric of his boxers. 'I like it,' Nathan repeated, slowly reaching for his cock through the thin fabric, his fingertips brushing the shape of it, well aware of Gabriel's undivided attention."
The rest of the scene followed, word for word Morpheus' work, yet somehow completely new to his ears. He sat there, enraptured, his eyes staring into nothingness while the rich, luscious voice surrounded him, filled him until it became his only focus.
A lewd, enthusiastic hum rose from the headphones, making Morpheus jump. Every word he had been anticipating thus far, but artistic license? It fitted with the narrative well. Too well. Not Gadling's first brush with erotica, he immediately guessed. He played it again for good measure. The sound was deeply erotic, with just enough warmth and breath. Real. It sounded real. It was followed by a breathy sigh Morpheus could almost feel at the back of his neck. God.
He played it again. He could feel the sound, the anticipation, the desire, the pleasure. Gadling conveyed it with such ease it felt genuinely intimate. Arousing, even. Morpheus ran his hand against the front of his own trousers, feeling the very real erection pushing against the hard fabric. This was ridiculous. Yet he could not stop. The scene kept playing, Robert Gadling's voice purring in his ears, words like caresses and gentle tugs, and he could not help but cup his cock through his jeans, seeking friction. He imagined him in the recording booth, leaning over the microphone, his features fitting the suggestive sounds, his lips wet from running his tongue over them. If he could just get a little further in the scene―
His Zoom alarm went off. Instantly, Morpheus removed his hand and his headphones, his back stiff as a board, a cold wave of panic rushing through him. Fuck! He gave himself a quick look through the camera of his phone. He was blushing slightly, to his utmost annoyance. Nothing he could not blame on bad webcam settings, he thought. The rest could be concealed easily enough. Especially when he was only visible from the waist up.
It was with a slight flush and a distracting, frustratingly hard erection that Morpheus answered his Zoom call, his mind scattered between book royalties, publishing dates, and Robert Gadling's voice still deeply embedded in his skull.
--
It was hours before Morpheus found a minute of free time. Night had fallen, the evening spent in front of a screen or on the phone, discussing the imminent release of his upcoming novel, one whose cover would feature his actual name, this time. Book releases were always exhausting affairs, between planning podcast appearances, book signings, press tours, and the likes. Morpheus disliked the fanfare of it all, the exposure, but could hardly complain. There were worse flip sides of the coin, out there.
At least writing under a pen name saved him the hassle, with the other half of his published work.
Lying on his bed, fresh out of the shower, Morpheus sighed, staring at the ceiling. He felt both exhausted and wide awake, his coffee-fueled brain refusing to quiet down. There were a few things the editor needed his input on in person, tomorrow, something to do with the cover art. He'd promised himself to write, too. Perhaps clean the flat a little. Too many fires at once, his sister's voice echoed in his mind.
His phone buzzed again. Incoming email from Lucienne.
Listened to it yet? Thoughts?
Plenty. Enough to know it was good. Enough to keep the reader listening. Enough for him to want to go back for more.
Going through his emails, Morpheus found the link to the beta recordings, and downloaded it onto his phone. He reached for old earbuds in his bedside table drawer. Where were we?
" 'Come here.' "
The latent desire in that voice was enough to get Morpheus right back where he had been, a few hours ago. Lying on his bed, he kept listening, swallowing hard at any well-placed sigh, any improvised grunt and whimpering sound. Was it even improvised? Did he plan on adding those? Did Gadling discuss it with the adaptation team beforehand? Marked the exact spots where he would do it in the printed script?
" 'You're so beautiful like this, love. Look at you.' "
God.
" 'I have thought about you like this. Hard under me. For me.' "
Hesitantly, Morpheus reached under the waistband of his pyjamas, finding himself hard already. He blushed at his own embarrassment, alone in his bedroom, his hand wrapped around his cock, his own words spilling in his ears. Vain, perhaps. Awfully self-absorbed. But deep down, he knew it was not that. Not really.
" 'Do you want me, Gabriel?' Can you feel I much I want you?' "
He hated himself for including so much narration in this passage, keeping him from the lascivious heat of Gadling's voice, waiting for the dialogue to return like a starving man begs for food. How could he do that? A wanton moan reverberated in his ears, quickly echoed by one of his own, harmonies of pleasure filling his head and his room.
" 'Fuck, you feel so good!' "
Why did his editor even let him publish that? Morpheus' mind was bridging the gaps between dialogue bits, ignoring the narration in favour of more pleasurable mental stimulation. He pictured Robert Gadling in his recording booth, focused over the microphone, his lips pressed into a sinful hum, his eyes closed. Gadling next to him, his mouth pressed against his ear, spewing new words, ones he did not write, ones of his own.
" 'Let me see those eyes.' "
Morpheus whined against his pillow, both from pleasure and frustration. He hated this. This was... mortifying, and yet he could not stop. He arched his back, chasing his pleasure.
" 'Fuck! I've waited for this for so long.' "
Morpheus came in his pyjamas in a muffled grunt, the release helping nothing with the shame spreading through him. It brought him some clarity, at least. Disgruntled, he yanked the earbuds out of his ears, Robert Gadling's voice reduced to a hushed whisper, the siren's song finally muffled. He looked down at himself, suddenly aware of the mess he'd made. Great. Fantastic.
His phone buzzed again. It was Lucienne.
Do you want the edited files once they are done? They would love your feedback before they start trimming it down.
Morpheus sighed, struggling against the brightness of the screen.
Yes, tell them I would like them.
342 notes · View notes
lady-pug · 2 months
Text
dream a little dream of me
Chapter IV of Dream a Little Dream of Me
Summary: As you settled in for the night, sleep overcame you almost as soon as your head hit your pillow.
“You called?” you heard a voice call out in the darkness.
Opening your eyes, you noticed with joyous gidiness that you were once again standing on the cobbled street, the moonlight shining softly on your skin. And Morpheus, the man you desperately wished to see, was standing only a few steps in front of you.
“I-” you almost found yourself at a loss for words “I did.”
Pairing: Morpheus | Dream of the Endless x Reader
Word count: 1,4k
Warnings: none
Notes: So… hi. I’m back. I’d like to start off by apologizing. I’m so so sorry for how long I’ve been absent, and especially for how long this story went without an actual ending to it (even though I’d promised to have it out quickly, just goes to show I shouldn’t make promises I might not be able to keep). A lot has happened in my personal and professional life in the past months that have kept me away from writing. I’ve had the first half of this chapter for almost as long as the third one has been out but so much was happening that I didn’t have the time or the motivation (sometimes I lacked both to be honest) to come back and finish it.
But I’ve finally done it. This story is finally complete. I’ve had the idea for this chapter mostly planned out in my head since chapter 1, and now I finally get to share it with you. I’d like to thank anyone who has taken the time to read this story and embark on this small journey with me, whether it be just one chapter (even just one paragraph) or the complete story. Thank you so so much for reading, and a special thank you for anyone who has left any sort of feedback, it means the world to me. And again I’m so very sorry for taking so long to write this, I sincerely hope you can forgive me. And I truly hope you enjoy this, dear reader!
Reader's gender not specified
Previous part | Masterlist | Read on AO3
Tumblr media
Things had started to look a little bit brighter after that night. Slowly, very slowly, little by little, things in your life started getting better, getting sorted out. It wasn’t immediate, nor was it without effort, but it was something.
The first thing you did after writing ten whole pages on that fateful Word Document was to start looking for a job. Literally anything would do, just so long as it got the bills paid and added food to the table, just long enough for you to get back on your feet and find a more permanent career. You’d be the first to admit that some of the jobs you took during that time, some of the people you’d met, were simply awful, sometimes bordering on humiliating. But some you actually enjoyed, and some of the people you had met you’d keep in your heart for a long time.
You’d also tried getting in touch with the people you’d grown apart, even if they didn’t want anything to do with you, just as a way to get closure. Some answered and some didn’t. Some didn’t want to talk, others agreed to meet. Some simply told you how things you’d done had hurt them, and you told them of how they had hurt you in return. And some had even agreed to try and work things out, slowly regaining contact and, eventually, their trust.
And finally, after several long months, you managed to save up enough money to travel back to your home town for a couple of days in order to pay your relative’s grave a visit. It wasn’t perfect, nor was it ideal, but it was enough, if only for now. You felt a strange sense of calmness looking at the words engraved in their headstone. The sort of calmness you had only felt when in the Dreaming.
Speaking of, your night visits to the Dreaming and its inhabitants had been a comfortable constant in your life for the past few months, at least in the beginning anyway. At first, you kept coming back every night, cherishing your conversations with the café owner, who you had come to know was named Amanda, or the little quips Matthew threw your way whenever he saw you walking around town. Even Mervyn’s rudeness was something you had grown fond of. But the thing you looked forward to the most was seeing Dream. Sometimes he’d actually stop by and engage in casual conversation with you, other times he'd just send a small grin your way over his shoulder in passing as he strode around town. But every single time you saw him you felt a warm, fuzzy fluttering feeling in your chest.
But eventually, as things in the waking world started to get better, your visits to the Dreaming started to become progressively more scarce. You started having other dreams too, some good, some not so much, your visions of the small town, and consequently your interactions with Morpheus, dwindling by the day. While it saddened you to let this go, to let him go, you cherished it even more so.
Tonight, though, almost an entire year after your first real conversation with him by the riverside, you really wished to visit him, even if it was one last time. It had been weeks since you’d last visited and you were hoping with all your heart to be able to talk to him again. You had good news to share after all.
As you got ready for bed your thoughts kept wandering back to Dream. Why had he become so special to you? Why were you special, like Lucienne had told you, in the first place? Why did you keep going back to the Dreaming? Maybe you’d never know the answer to those questions, and you realized with a quiet start that you were fine not knowing. Those things happened, and you were honestly glad they did, there was no point in dwelling on the past now.
As you settled in for the night, sleep overcame you almost as soon as your head hit your pillow. 
“You called?” you heard a voice call out in the darkness.
Opening your eyes, you noticed with joyous gidiness that you were once again standing on the cobbled street, the moonlight shining softly on your skin. And Morpheus, the man you desperately wished to see, was standing only a few steps in front of you.
“I-” you almost found yourself at a loss for words “I did.”
He smiled softly, head slightly tilted as if to ask what was on your mind.
“It’s just-” you shook your head in order to gather your thoughts “Since… that night, I’ve been coming here less and less.”
“It’s because you don’t need this anymore.”
For a brief moment you panicked, doesn’t he want you to come see him anymore?
“What? No, I-” you stammered “I still- I still need this. I still need you!”
His grin turned soft and he averted his eyes before speaking again.
“You have gotten to a point in your life in which I am no longer needed. There is nothing holding you back anymore, you get to live your life however you see fit.”
A stinging sensation accompanied the tears brimming in your eyes, threatening to fall.
“But I still want to see you. I still want you.”
His smile widened, small lines creasing in the corners of his eyes as he took a step towards you, leaving almost no space between the two of you. 
“I once said you could see me again…”
“If I wished.” your own smile grew as realization dawned on you.
“Always.” he whispered as the back of his hand caressed your own, light like a feather.
As you stood there,breathing each other in, a moment turned into two, which then turned into a few minutes more, so much so that you almost forgot the reason for your visit.
“Why are you here?” Dream asked softly.
“Hm?”
“Why did you summon me?” he took a minuscule step back, only enough to be able to gaze into your eyes “You seemed like you had something important on your mind.”
“Oh!” you shouted, and had he been any mere mortal, Morpheus might have just flinched away from you. But he was no mere mortal and thus didn’t startle so easily, so he simply tilted his head to the side and waited for you to proceed “I finished my book.”
“That’s wonderful.” he smiled, genuinely happy for you.
“And a publisher has agreed to publish it!” you rocked on the balls of your feet, suddenly feeling bashful “I got the confirmation email today. I thought you might like to hear about it, since you were oh so interested in it before, you know.”
He chuckled softly, both of his hands resting on your shoulders to keep you in place.
“I am truly happy for you. And I feel honored you decided to come all this way to share it with me.” he removed one of his hands from your shoulder and raised it in the air “I believe this moment calls for a celebration, don’t you think?”
For the briefest of moments you panicked, believing he was sending you away once more.
“No, no, wait!” you tried to hold onto his hand but it was too late, he had already snapped his fingers.
Nothing happened. You were still there with him, not back in your bed in the morning. His smile turned smug, bordering on a smirk, as if he was already expecting your reaction.
And then you heard it. From seemingly out of nowhere came the soft whisper of a trumpet, followed by a powerful voice.
“Where is that coming from?” you looked around but could not find the source of the music.
Dream simply shrugged. That did not matter now, did it? Slowly, he raised a hand towards you, palm up and inviting. Placing your own hand on top of his, he pulled you closer, your chests practically touching, as his other arm enveloped your waist.
“This is what you call a celebration around these parts?” you teased, earning a chuckle from him.
“Only when both parts are into it.” he responded, slowly swaying you both to the rhythm of the song.
As you and Dream danced together, the soft glow of moonlight caressing your skins, you couldn’t help but sigh, a small smile playing on your lips.
“Thank you.” you whispered.
“Whatever for?” he hummed.
“For this. All of this.”
As you slipped further into his embrace, you felt peaceful. Your whole body tingled and for only a moment you wished you didn’t have to go back to the waking world.
“You’re welcome, darling.” he whispered back to you.
But you now knew you could always return here, to this very moment. All you had to do was wish for it, and Dream would bring you back here. Back to him.
41 notes · View notes
lacefuneral · 7 months
Note
hi!!! i love for custom blog theme,, do you have a link to the code or creator 0:?
ya!
so my theme is actually a heavily modified version of redux edit #1 by lopezhummel (current url: holyaura). i always remind users that most tumblr themes are old and that you'll need to replace all instances of "http://" in the code with "https://" so tumblr will save the theme. i had to do it with this one
these are the modifications i made to the theme. i edited this theme over the course of at least a year or so and don't quite recall how i did all of these things. but to the best of my ability:
i moved the "left side img" to the right side of the screen. i also made this element "responsive" so the image will never get cropped when you resize your screen. this was a bitch and a half to figure out and i truthfully do not remember how i did it
Tumblr media Tumblr media
i deleted the text in the drop-down navigation so it appears as a little line that is otherwise not noticeable. this type of theme, the "redux edit," used to be very popular because having a drop-down menu let you cram a bunch of links that lead to sub-pages on your blog. i've done away with my sub-pages, but i still like the format of the "redux style" tumblr theme, for its minimal UI and for its customization options.
i separated my mobile description from my web description for formatting reasons. basically, most elements in tumblr themes are connected to specific text fields and toggles. i simply went to the section that was connected to my blog description and deleted it. the web description has to be manually typed inside of the CSS/HTML editor when i want to change it. whereas my mobile description is whatever i type in the "description" box of the normal tumblr theme editors.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
i added code someone else made ("NoPo" by drannex42 on GitHub) which allows you to hide posts with certain tags on them. i did this to hide my pinned post, as it looks bad on desktop.
i replaced the tiny pagination arrows at the bottom with images that literally say "next" and "back" because the arrows were far too small/illegible. i know they aren't centered in the container i'm not sure how to fix that lol
Tumblr media
i added a cursor
Tumblr media
i installed a working music box ("music player #3" by glenthemes), and then added music by uploading MP3 files to discord and then using the links of those files as the audio sources. iirc i also had to make this element responsive and i aligned it so it would sit on the left side of my screen. i made the "album art" for each one the same strawberry pixel art
Tumblr media
the moth is just a PNG i added and then moved around so it was behind my sidebar using the options that came pre-packaged with the theme
if you want something like the strawberry shortcake decoration at the top (called "banner" in the theme) your best bet is to google "pixel divider"
theme didn't support favicon so i added that in so i could have a little heart
Tumblr media
ALSO:
this theme is. really weird about backgrounds. any background that i have ever set for it, i've had to do weird shit in photoshop. like making the background HUGE, mirroring it, etc. - because it would crop the image weird, or there would be a gap where there was no image. idk man, it's haunted. i'm sure there's a way to fix this but i am NOT tech savvy enough. anyway, patterns are probably your best friend. and if you DO want something that isn't a pattern, it's going to take a lot of trial and error. but i love this theme so i deal with it 😭
the sidebar image and the floating image do not scale. if your image is 1000 pixels, it will display at 1000 pixels. you'll either have to edit the code so that the theme scales the image for you, or resize any images before you add them
my white whale of theme editing (aside from the Weird Background thing) is that i cannot get infinite scrolling to work. i have tried every code out there. all of them break my theme. it makes me sad because like. i have music there for a reason. the idea is that people would listen to it while they scroll. unfortunately, the way it's set up now, the music will stop every time someone clicks "next" or "back" 💀
anyway sorry for rambling but i hope you enjoy the the theme and customizing it in the way that you want to!
16 notes · View notes
cruelsister-moved2 · 1 year
Note
Im the hater anon omg i didnt mean to lead u astray but i haven't finished it i'm just over half done. i probably will finish just so i can coherently say why i don't like it bc rn my thoughts are all over the place but  u hit all the major points im like nodding and taking notes rn.  Its very shallow lore wise like its all overly complex exposition that barely effects the plot. I could write about this for 100 years but basically it was boring and i just feel like it has nothing to say like theres no purpose or message and i think speculative stuff should have SOME weight behind it idk.  That paired w how the writing itself is like..not pretty or artful or anything………………….
And on top of that its not even actually funny. Instead of real jokes its just 100 million mcu quips awkwardly inserted so that no situation is ever treated genuinely or seriously or with depth. For example. My personal least favorite part beyond general quality so far is how often they bring up gideon being inappropriately horny… idk how else to word it.. Its one of her 3 personality traits. they mention her porn collection i swear every couple of pages. its played 4 jokes but like the rest of it its literally unfunny and feels so out of place. Like this is right when they just discovered an incinerated body → ”she looked troubled, which made Gideon sad, but she was also soaked right through to the skin, which made Gideon need a lie-down.” Its like if someone whose only point of reference was tiktok during that era where every vaguely masc woman got made fun of for being a quote hey mamas lesbian unquote tried to write a masc woman.  Reading it as a masc lesbian myself is just sort of embarrassing idk if other ppl feel differently but it just feels overplayed and goofy. 
Anyways… this is all very long and incoherent but thank u for complaining and vindicating me… i started reading it a couple days ago on a whim bc ive been seeing ppl talk abt it a lot lately and i was instantly SOOOOO disappointed. Part of it was definitely that i was expecting something very different because of how people talk about it but also its just like bad. Its insane. I also had no idea abt the roachpatrol thing so ummmmmm :(
hiiiiiiiiii omg so your suffering isn't even over yet my condolences.
the worldbuilding exposition industrial complex needs to end im so serious. I just had such a nice conversation with some writer friends about soft vs hard magic systems and world-building and how frustratingly common the assumption that more complex lore you dump the more sophisticated your story is at the moment. in reality many more sophisticated stories deliberately utilise abstraction and whimsy for thematic statements. v happy for brandon sanderson fans but again, a lot of those stories are basically like mystery novels except the magic is the mystery, whereas the speculative fiction authors who... actually speculate...are often using it as a tool to speculate about our own existence.
and the writing is so ugly like I've read a couple of chapters and I feel like i could get through a mid story if it's at least well written but it wasn't even inoffensive it was actively offputting like that prose was stinkyyyyyyyyy..... and the quips exactlyyy like who is laughing at none pizza with left beef anymore and the fact a lot of it isn't even the author being witty but just like. a reference to a meme? it's literally supposed to be like gritty but then everyone is memeing and quipping all the time how are you meant to take that seriously?
and okay the like sexualisation of Gideon had kind of been my suspicion but I hadn't read enough to make that claim for certain so. that's disappointing to have it confirmed. given that the author is a fem woman who calls herself a lesbian whilst being homestuck married to a guy, it really brings up some kind of discomfort in me to be using masc women that way and making a joke out of them and their sexuality and calling them himbos and shit like. it really doesn't seem like she actually knows any masc women??? and when that was a huge part of the marketing for the book it comes to feel exploitative.
one thing to be aware is that tor like. pushed it really hard marketing-wise for whatever reason. I guess they feel it symbolises a new era of sci-fi and like were using it as an outreach effort to engage the generation that mostly only reads fan fiction or whatever which I guess cheers if it achieves that. but the majority of negative reviews are specifically that it was nothing like what they expected it to be, because of the.... super gimmicky marketing.
the tagline being sword necromancer lesbians in space or something so lame 😭 and it really seems like the elements came first and the justification came second so it's never really explained why they use swords instead of more technologically advanced weapons (bc the answer is 'it sounds cool') or really why it needs to be in space at all (because the answer is 'it sounds cool'). even the necromancy is supposedly fairly tangential and ive seen people be underwhelmed how much actual lesbianism is involved too 💀
9mbut yeah the r0ach patr0l thing I wish people were more aware of because honestly above anything else, I've seen people who were fans and then found this out and felt super uncomfortable so I think people deserve to know what kind of background she has, and this is literally where she developed her writing and her name as a BNF so it's directly connected to her current career not just like a celebrity who tweeted something dumb when they were 14. like I think it's fair to take that into account + idk it's INTERESTING to me that she went from that to debuting with a masc lesbian whom she projects like comic hypersexuality onto it really is all much to think about truly
8 notes · View notes
k-lakinx · 4 months
Text
helloo🤍
its been about 2 days since my last post, and i have been resisting the urge to spam post every going on that has happened in my life over those 2 days, but i decided to leave it until now to not only talk about what i did, but also talk a bit more about myself as looking back i feel like i really could have said more instead of being so vague and listing a few basic interests!!
i also want to add that i am super grateful for the few likes and followers i’ve gained, i honestly thought this page would just be me and my thoughts but the fact that some, albeit only three or four, people actually find interest on what i’m posting on here really does mean a lot to me and i am so grateful for that 🎀
now into what i have done the past few days; on sunday i rotted in bed as usual until about 12 as my mum was at work and my dad was at the beach with his friends, but when i decided to do something, we went to ikea!! i love going to ikea so much for numerous reasons, notably the food (not the queues though, im convinced they drive me to insanity) and also coming out with many random things that i would have never anticipated buying when i first went in. when we left ikea we headed into town as we thought we might aswell buy some things there aswell which i was super happy about!! i went into hmv and finally found a lust for life cd (it’s always out of stock!!) and i brought a sza cd for my best friend as i’m going to see her this christmas (she lives over 200 miles away now but i used to be neighbours with her) and i’m really really excited for that!! we also went into h&m, aka literal heaven for me, and i brought 3 lace tops and one of those foldover shoulder jumpers and i’m OBBSESSED with it!! even though it was short i’d say it was a super successful shopping trip🤍
once we had finished in town, we stopped off at waitrose to buy the weekly shop, we got the normal things along with one of those 12 packs of fairy cakes because i absolutely adore them!! they are so so delicious honestly!! by the time we had finished in waitrose, it was getting super dark, but i absolutely love car drives in the dark; i spent the whole journey listening to ultraviolence and some unreleased lana songs like break my fall and some aka songs(my fav album)!!
once i got home, i of course gave my dog some treats and then went upstairs to rot in bed just a bit more because i can never have enough of that in my life if i’m honest 😭 overall i really enjoyed that day and would give it at least a 9/10!!🎀🎀
the following day; today, was not too bad!! being a monday, i had school today and i woke up feeling really pretty and clean as i used my new sol de janeiro cream yesterday in my shower🫧 here’s a photo of me this morning!! ↓
Tumblr media
obviously i hadn’t used my heated eyelash curler by then so ignore how flat my lashes are!!🎀 it was raining this morning to i managed to get a lift into school in the car from my dad which i was really happy about as i would have hated to have got my hair wet when it looked so pretty!! i go to private school so i put my uniform on and got ready, i also watched the sunrise this morning while i had my coffee which was so lovely and i really enjoyed sitting at my windowsill and just thinking really; as boring as it sounds, it’s actually one of my favourite past times 💕
i had such a good day at school today!! my best friend imogen was in today which was so great, but alot of my other friends were off to a badminton competition, which they won!! my lessons were pretty normal, nothing too special - just things like english, science and history which don’t get me wrong i do love, but do get a little bit repetitive at times!!
i got the bus back home and arrived back about half an hour ago and got changed into my victoria’s secret pyjamas and took my makeup off. i also made sure to give my dog a treat and she decided to come up to my bedroom which was so adorable!! my close friend olivia is coming over to my house tommorow, which i am vet excited for as it is always so lovely to see her 🎀 i’ll give you all another update sometime soon within the following days, bye for now x 💕
2 notes · View notes
faeriekit · 1 year
Note
WIP thingy - I was gonna ask about Dude Who's a Spy and then I read on and I NEED to know about "dude who's a spy WITH POKEMON" because lolol. Please indulge me, i beg of you.
Okay I'm awake now! <3
I think(?) this was shortly after I got my first diagnosis + its accompanying medication, because I have the distinct memory of sitting down on the couch, writing, and then nothing else until it was dark and I had 6,000 words on an untitled document. And by "realizing" I mean my mother walked through the door and went "why are all the lights off-- did you not move while I was gone?"
No. No I did not. And then I did the exact same thing the next day, finishing my first short story about a guy who realizes he's compromised in enemy territory only after abandoning his wife and kid and the life he actually wanted.
And then. After finishing this sad story, which genuinely only ended on a sad note because I the author also couldn't see a way out of it, my brain was like what if....it wasn't so sad and it was also more fun.
Well, how could I do that?
...Add pokémon?
So I started rewriting the entire story with pokémon added to the plot, which, c'mon, everyone having their own emotional support animal added to a plot really lowers the sadness density! So dude who's a spy is complete but dude who's a spy WITH POKEMON is a WIP, but reliant on the first work.
Some snippets:
*(spy)
Andrew Lawrence Lee was an illustrator, husband, and father of one. He spent the majority of his days working on well-enough paid projects with the publishing house he had been hired for, working on oils and watercolors that would wind up on the pages of glossy-print children’s books— books his daughter read every night before bed and took with her to kindergarten to explain what her father did for work. His wife was employed by homeland security and could often be home late, but she was just as happy to finish her day in work shoes and on the edge of Cammie’s bed, flipping through glossy pages as Andrew pointed out the details of his work. Kanon Lee was witty and clever, and if their daughter was half as wise as her mother was, Andrew would be blessed beyond measure.
So, of course, he thought to himself, brushes dipping into pristine cups of tap-poured water, it would be nice if Andrew existed. Still, he liked being Andrew, and anyone paid fat stacks in overseas bank accounts had very few reasons to complain, and, furthermore, Andrew’s wife was an absolute delight. He wanted for nothing. If he had been left to his own devices, he probably would have done his best to pursue her romantically. The fact that he had been paid and encouraged to marry this particular member of national security was just a bonus. Literally. The amount of money he was wired after the wedding would buy a small island.
And a man named Andrew Lawrence Lee spent his time painting—a genuine hobby he had never been able to enjoy as frequently in his home country— spending time with his daughter, who he adored completely, and spent time with his wife, who really did work too hard. Spending time with her was more than just work-oriented. Sure, teasing her for covert tips and hints as to the state of national security was his true intention even when he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her shirt-to-shirt close, but date nights were cute, and when she blushed he felt like he had everything a sleeper agent could want in his whole life.
She had recently switched from mint chapstick to cherry. It was an excuse to kiss her more.
*(With Pokémon)
And it’s Kanon in a college tee and khaki shorts who unloads the boxes from the moving truck, and it’s he who’s coated from head-to-toe in paint splotches as he covers each room with an elegant red he’d fancied at the hardware store. The exception is the empty center room. He can’t resist. He paints it with layers of gold and gold and gold paint. He staples down the softest rug he can find at the discount center, and even, in his softest sentimentality, buys a pet bed for the Pokémon she’s sure to have, if she is anything like her parents. He doesn’t give up his remodeling venture until the Kecleon approves. And by approves, he means that he puts the Kecleon down on the floor and watches to see if it crawls all over the furniture with its tentative, grasping hands.
It does.
It also tries to eat a spot on the wall that he assumes it thinks is a fly? Its tongue pops off the paint with no expression he can discern, but it army-crawls its way back into his arms with what he assumes is disappointment.
He also waits to ensure that the Houndoom feels comfortable patrolling the house before suggesting his idea to Kanon.
She doesn’t approve. His wise and clever Kanon does not disapprove, either. She sits and thinks. He sits beside her and holds her hand while a finger taps on her chin, and she ponders, and she checks her phone for both their finances and her off-hours.
“…It seems reasonably possible,” Kanon decides, a week later, over her breakfast of granola and plain yogurt. He can’t help the kiss he leans over the table for.
And they have Cammie.
****
Camille Hotaru Lee is the smallest, most fragile thing he has ever seen.
He can admit it to himself, if to no one else. He doesn’t have Cammie for a cover. She is a special piece of himself that he wants, desperately, and he is selfish enough to go after this desire that has no other outlet. For him and Kanon to have a family. To have some permanence on her life that cannot be stripped away with the removal of his cover.
His handler, he’s sure, is suspicious of such compromise of his agent, but says nothing of it to his face. The man sends him endless offers to illustrate for children’s books instead. He paints with Camille on his lap. The Kecleon plays with her little grasping hands while he mixes the right shades of green for a moonlit hillside. Cammie burbles and giggles every time the Kecleon picks a new shade to mimic, until it realizes the color-changing makes her laugh. It begins to swap a thousand colors at once just to make Cammie shriek with laughter.
Kanon comes home in the evening to a house full of baby laughter and the faint smell of turpentine, and she sits beside the man who she has no reason to doubt is her husband, and they put serial dramas on the television while she pumps milk for the next day. The Houndoom snores ash at their feet. Camille sleeps to the sound of television sirens and the whirr of the pumping machine, and Kanon and he swap theories on the end of the episode, solving artificial crimes in a box.
Cammie learns how to walk during her persistent attempts to pull his easel down with her. It’s her climbing phase. He tries all types of child-proof locks on the house until another church member just buys him a pack of extra-thick rubber bands. It gets Cammie to stop opening cabinets. It also gets the Kecleon to stop opening cabinets for her in a show of solidarity.
The Kecleon sulks by slowly chewing on his t-shirts. He isn’t sure why. It goes limp as soon as he picks it up, and it’s not as if the thing has any teeth. It’s just…gumming up his laundry.
It is a peaceful, almost surreally so, childhood for Camille. He had grown up in a town house. His father had quartered his small family during the months he was in active service. He doesn’t have many memories but the smell of his mother cooking, the beige pavement crawling down the rue, and the overwhelming fear of his father coming home linger still in the back of his mind.
10 notes · View notes
laineysbucketlist · 1 year
Text
Thoughts on the first two LotR movies:
There’s no singing :(
Where the FUCKING HELL is Tom Bombadil. What have they done to him. Where is my precious blorbo.
The music is good. The motif that plays whenever the orcs from Isengard do anything is exceptionally well used.
Gimli and Legolas are both great and their romance is emphasized a lot more than it was in the books.
Unfortunately Peter “Cancel Culture” Jackson removed a lot of the romantic dialogue/sexual tension between Frodo and Sam (“[Sam] ran to Frodo and took his left hand, awkwardly and shyly. He stroked it gently and then he blushed and turned hastily away. […] ‘It’s warm!’ said Sam. ‘Meaning your hand, Mr. Frodo. It has felt so cold through the long nights.’” (Page 219).
Peter “Cancel Culture” Jackson also must have thought very highly of himself when he deemed it wise to alter one of the most important character details from the books: Gandalf in this book doesn’t have the big naturals he is described as having in the book: “[Gandalf] wore a tall pointed blue hat, a long grey cloak, and a silver scarf. He had a long white beard and big naturals.” (Page 24).
When the elves speak, they’re using real Sindarin. I wasn’t sure at first but eventually I started noticing words I knew like dagor (battle) and lithui (ash) that accurately matched the subtitles.
Worth additional attention is the subtitles saying “trust” at one point when Arwen says “estel,” for two reasons. First, estel translates more literally to “hope,” so Sindarin having the same word for hope and trust in that particular context is a really cool linguistic detail. Second, Estel happens to be Aragorn’s deadname, “But [Aragorn] was called Estel, which is ‘hope,’ and his true name and lineage were kept secret…” So Arwen is being very rude with her word choice right now.
On that topic, I do think that the role of Aragorn should have gone to a trans actor. I don’t mean to suggest that I think that cis actors should only play cis characters or that trans actors should only play trans characters, it’s just that this particular role was a very visible and important role and I think that Peter “Cancel Culture” Jackson made a pretty major mistake in this casting decision.
Its pretty obvious that these movies suffered from the political climate of a post 9/11 America.
I’m serious though where the FUCKING HELL is my sweet baby… Tom Bombadil… HOW COULD THEY DO THIS TO HIM!
I’ve never even heard of Howard Shore before now but like I said, he writes a good soundtrack.
This is a bit random but the timeline is shifted very slightly. Boromir dies at the end of the first movie whereas he dies at the beginning of the second book, and the second movie ends before Sam and Frodo reach Shelob. I think Boromir dying as the finale of the first book movie rather than the beginning of the second book was a good decision, but I think ending the second book with anything less than Sam in utter despair and Frodo presumed dead robs it of some of its impact, especially in a trilogy that centers on a theme of hope in the face of complete and utter darkness and despair.
I think Peter “Cancel Culture” Jackson generally did a good job with the first two movies, I just wish he hadn’t cancelled Tom Bombadil.
Tom Bombadil my beloved, how could this happen. How could it come to this. Peter “Cancel Culture” Jackson had no right to omit him from that movie.
This one is especially random but the book The Two Towers never made it very clear what two towers the title refers to, as there are nearly half a dozen important towers here: Minas Tirith, Minas Morgul, Barad-Dûr, Orthanc, and the tower of Cirith Ungol. The most obvious answer would be that the two towers are Minas Tirith and Minas Morgul, as they are the two towers that most closely match each other. However, the characters haven’t yet reached Minas Tirith at this point, and the Frodo and Sam don’t do any more than walk past Minas Morgul. After finishing the book I decided it was most likely that it meant Orthanc and the tower of Cirith Ungol, because that’s where the two climaxes of the book take place. The movie clears it up a bit by explicitly calling Orthanc and Barad-Dûr the two towers, because they are the lairs of the two main villains: Saruman and Sauron respectively.
TOM BOMBADIL WHERE AAAARE YOOOOOUUUUUUU!!!
15 notes · View notes
prue84 · 3 months
Text
Autumn '23 goals review: 👍👍/👍👍
I wasn't as production as I could, there had been full weeks when I literally did nothing. But, but given that is has been a hard trimester, especially the last month with mom spiraling into a sudden depressive mood, I rated this season 2 instead of 1. Besides, I've been very prolific with my X-Men AUs.
In depth analysis under the cut.
———————————————————————————————
Wordcount on WIPs: 0 /20.000
Developing detailed drafts: 86 ≥ 20 pages
15 chapters of the Warren/Betsy historical AU (some advancement mixed with chapters that had to be added in the part I already wrote)
Working on headcanons
Some small working here and there. Not worth mention.
Graphic artworks: 4/3 (2 published)
Revanche, Royal Husbands edits, Hellfire Gala(x2).
Manga editing: 0 (100 = project complete)
Season 1-per-Month post goal: 3/4
- Do and/or finish one fanwork per month [✔]
September (2nd half): - Some further progress on the X-Men/Star Trek crew.
October: - Working on the X-Men/Star Trek crew. - Returned to the historical Warren/Betsy AU. - Turned a Katie McGrath pic into Revanche. - Finally finished the text part for an old Edit AU. But then decided to change the graphic edit. Was ready to post, then decided to keep it to post after the Halloween week/keep it for the November fanwork. And then the text was expanded into a ficlet, and then the graphic was meant to be expanded as well. Sigh.
November: - Last retouches and aforementioned edit posted. - Worked on the historical Warren/Betsy.
December (1st half): - after some block, found the mojo back on the Warren/Betsy historical AU for some whopping 30 pages(at least, count now made) only in December. Whoa. - Got some new ideas for an X-Men's Captain Britain-related small project. - Added new manips ideas because why not - its not that I don't have enough to last me a lifetime. >_> - Made the Warren/Betsy Hellfire Gala manip (followed by a second version).
———————————————————————————————
- Finish & post some old graphic WIP ❌
- Post some finished graphic that was held back [✔] [1]
- Finish Chronicles of Camelot’s retouch ❌
- Finish that 90% done 2015 Spirk one shot ❌
- Finish the Royal Eagle fic that’s 90% done ❌
- Translate and share some Merlin AUs ideas Did a rough first translation of a 28 pages AU.
- Write fanfic ❌
- Finish with all Kirk’s headcanons series ❌
- Complete the Trek characters headcanon two series (9 left) ❌
- Finish that Le-matya headcanon ❌
- Finish any other WIP headcanon. (currently 5, Trek and X-Men) ❌
- Finish to develop the “Modern Times Merlin” AU and made this AU edit ❌
- Work on some Merlin / Star Wars AU content. ❌ - Finish and post the Sea Patrol Trek crew ❌
- Post some other Trek crew AU ❌
- Write the text part to the Star Wars Prequels/Trek crew AUs. ❌
1 note · View note
kadoodles-on-ao3 · 11 months
Text
It's been a while since my last aside so I felt like sharing what I've been working on in my free time! I promise I'm not lazy, I'm just busy and also really like starting new projects halfway through working on 8 other projects for some reason haha
Speaking of starting something new when I haven't finished something I started previously, Minh and I were planning on making a collab Shulkelia one shot for Valentine's Day! Obviously that didn't pan out haha but it's still being worked on and it's extremely cute and fun :) Hopefully it will be ready to post sooner than later! And I also will hopefully be able to work on Constellations soon as well!! (Seriously I feel. SO. bad about my hiatus, especially since I know how many interesting and fun rough-draft ideas we brainstormed up for it that are just waiting to be finalized and shared with the world!!)
Another thing I wanted to do for Valentine's Day but extremely missed the boat on was mass dumping the few good NSFW Shulkelia pieces on here (with a planned warning ahead of time as well as copious tagging and hiding under readmores, of course!), including a full translation of a doujin! However, it being a nearly 20-page comic with dialogue and onomatopoeia all over the place meant I couldn't go the normal route of putting the translation below the art, it would just be way too messy and confusing. So, I decided to open up Photopea and replace the Japanese text with my translation! I felt bad about editing someone else's work (still do haha) but there was just no other way to do it, there is. SO so much onomatopoeia in there that it would be a nightmare to do it any other way. But that fact also contributed to why I still have yet to finish the translation: I got wayyy too ambitious in my typical perfectionist way, and decided to use the clone tool to edit out the hiragana and katakana handwriting for the onomatopoeia and place English text in their places, rather than just put it in small, parenthetical text next to the original writing like manga translations typically do. And oh my GOD I should never have done that there are literal HUNDREDS of characters I had to painstakingly edit out and I'm STILL not even done yet no no no... But I'm so close to finishing it!! I have only a couple pages left and then it's good to go!! Expect to see it along with the other NSFW art of them (again, with multiple warnings far ahead of time plus careful tagging to make sure you won't see it if you don't want to!!) in the near future!
Not XC related at all, but my most recent project has been making an Ao3 site skin (and, in the process, learning how CSS works) and it's been really satisfying! It's nothing super fancy, but it does create a noticeable improvement from the default (in terms of clarity/organization/readability, no offense intended at all of course!) and I'm very pleased with it so far! Once it's done I'll share it here, complete with notes on what each piece is doing to the layout and how, so anyone can use it and tweak it how they like! :)
I unfortunately haven't made any more progress on Xenoblade 3, sorry to say. And actually... it's partially because I'm worried that I'll end up liking Noah so much that I'll get even more distracted from writing Shulkelia or Xenoblade 1 in general haha... Like I'd never give up on that of course, 1 and its characters will always have a special place in my heart! But I can see myself getting swept away by The New Guy TM, much like I do with new project ideas popping into my head...
My FFXIV x Xenoblade 1 crossover has made some good progress! I've now finalized the outfits for over half of the characters I plan on making, after hours and hours of trying different chestpieces and dyes to get them as close to their canon outfits as possible! In fact, maybe I could share a little more about what exactly I'm doing, to show how I was having too much fun and made it a bigger thing than it had to be, to help explain why it's taking so long haha:
So originally the idea started out as "what FFXIV job best suits the playstyle/archetype of each of XC's playable characters?" (and I have a whole host of notes in my head about why that is from both a gameplay/kit perspective and a fandom-y General Vibes/Aesthetic perspective, which I will for sure post along with the pics). And if I could draw well, it probably would've ended there: I'd just have made some art of the cast posing with their weapons and call it done. But since 1) I can't draw the things I see in my head like I want to and 2) I like to over-complicate things for fun, I decided to pile onto this idea by not only adding more characters of (XC SPOILERS!!!) Alvis, Egil, Meyneth, and Zanza to the roster (including in terms of what jobs suit them each and why!) but also recreate everyone in-game! (I really wanted to do Dickson as well, but unfortunately there are absolutely zero mustache options that look like his :< There's only one that's even remotely similar, but the face is completely wrong for him (what facial features look like are tied to faces, for some reason; the Mustache Facial Feature creates a different type of mustache depending on which Face option you pick) so there's no way to make a character that looks sufficiently like him, at least to my standards. Maybe one day they'll add one that fits...? If they do I will for sure make Gunbreaker Dickson a reality!) This resulted in me needing to not only sit down for hours in XIV's character creator ensuring every detail was as close a match to their designs as possible, but also opening up 8000 tabs in Eorzea Collection and looking through every. single. last. glamour option. in the game for each. and. every. slot. for each. and. every. character. to find out how closely I could translate their weird (affectionate) XC clothes into weird (affectionate) FF clothes. Combine that with my stubbornness in wanting them to look as accurate as possible resulting in making two different outfits per character based on whether or not they can equip/glam the gear as the job that suits them most, (plus the fact that I'm doing [again, SPOILERS!!!] Mecha-Fiora in addition to Homs!Fiora as well as having three [three!] different job options for Shulk based on varying levels of both XC and XIV spoilers to avoid ruining twists for either game), and the fact that I went a step further and decided to also make alternate-race versions for the main party (that sounds... bad lmao. fantasy races, like elves and catboys and such) like half if-these-characters-were-instead-created-by-the-XIV-designers-in-an-alternate-timeline-what-race-would-they-probably-make-them-judged-by-me-like-their-jobs-on-both-lore-and-Vibes-TM and half if-the-XC-gang-existed-irl-and-played-XIV-what-would-they-make-their-characters-look-like, and reminder that each of these versions have two different outfit variants and each outfit needs a minimum of 4 and a maximum of 7 separate pieces each that also need to be dyed and have multiple different options to try on for every character and... it took a teeeeny bit longer than I was expecting to get through haha. But that's not at all to say it's a chore to get through; it's certainly been a process yes, but I've been having a lot of fun the whole time :) Finally getting every element just right, from all the details in character creation down to their eyebrow shape to finding the best option for every armor slot dyed just the right color, seeing it all come together and actually look quite a bit like the character is so satisfying! I can't wait to share them all, I hope someone out there enjoys the results as much as I did creating them! :) Oh, and I also will be making a glam list for each outfit as well as sharing my notes on what I picked in the character creator, so if you want to do an in-game/WoL cosplay as someone or maybe even make an alt named after one based on my recreation of them then it'll be easy for you! :)
Even though I haven't been keeping up with my fanfic writing as much lately, I do still get little ideas for things quite often and am typing them down in my doc for later! I have a gigantic backlog of things I could write: fanfics long and short, Shulkelia fics and Genfics, non-fanfic concepts both XC-related and not... rest assured, even if I'm not posting on here or Ao3 my mind is always buzzing with something and I'm always wanting to create more!
0 notes
newyorkmylife · 1 year
Text
That night in Bryant Park
Wednesday May 4, 2022 is the day I met Leslie.
Earlier in the day, I went to the gym and then walked all the way to I’milky to get bubble tea.
I walked to Bryant Park and was just wandering around sipping and chewing the boba.
I noticed a cute Asian girl sitting by herself watching the “dance party” event by the fountain.
I thought I’d talk to her but I couldn’t muster the courage in time. She left.
I felt down because of that. It wasn’t the first time it happened to me. I then walked around in the park till I got back to the fountain and I saw another cute Asian girl. She asked me if I could take a picture of her. I did and she offered to take one for me. I was trying to strike a conversation but she soon said “Have a nice day” and left.
I walked again all around the park till I sat on a chair to finish my bubble tea. I looked in the distance and saw that same girl sitting at the fountain, literally meters from where she’d said bye.
She was then approached by a guy and they had quite a long conversation. I saw her smile and nod - it looked like she was having a good time. Looking at all that, I felt like I was inadequate and something must be wrong with my personality. I recently realized that many girls find my face attractive to some extent, but they shy off from me after we talk for a while.
I headed to the Stavros Niarchos library at the corner, nearby the park. That’s where I went on Monday and read some pages of a book called “Dangerous Ideas”. I asked a clerk if they knew where I could find “The lean startup”. Someone mentioned how important it was to him at the tech social the day before. I wanted to learn more about startups and improve my business and leadership skills. The clerk gave me a piece of paper onto she had written a combination of letters and numbers that would guide me to the book. I did get to the right section on floor 2M but couldn’t find “The lean startup”. Instead, I stumbled upon “The gift of struggle”, a book that looked smaller compared to the others. That -  and its name - sparked my interest.
The content was indeed inspiring but I wanna get back to the main topic. I read for half an hour and left. 
The sun had set and I returned to Bryant Park.
I sat at a table and did the accent exercises that Mike - the accent coach - gave me the day before. After I was done - I decided to walk around the park one last time. I noticed how beautiful the lit-up Empire State Building was - as well as other shiny towers around the park - so I took some photos with my camera. I approached the fountain and to my surprise the dance party was still going. I noticed a really pretty girl sitting by herself at a table. I thought to myself this would finally be the time I let go of my fears and talk to her. I did procrastinate a bit as excitement and anxiety mixed in my chest. Then I finally went for it. I walked to her and asked her if she’s from New York. I honestly don’t even remember what I said exactly. My brain went on autopilot. I sat on the chair next to hers without even thinking about it twice. She was surprised that I approached her and asked if I felt scared of coming to talk to her. I did but I didn’t wanna say it so I told her it felt exciting (which is true). We started having a nice conversation and I soon noticed she would shift her focus very quickly from time to time on things that I hadn’t even noticed. She told me she thinks she has ADHD. I was surprised but at the same time delighted when I heard that. I do think I have a little bit of ADHD myself and I would’ve never expected to meet someone as unique as her - ever. We stood up and started walking through the park. My eyes literally lit up when she stopped to touch a flower. That was beautiful. I had just met a person who is not afraid to be herself and fully embraces who she truly is. As I talked with her I realized how many of the things she does that are considered to be “symptoms” of ADHD are things that I might’ve been prone to do in the past but that I have eliminated from my behavior as a means of survival.
We sat at a bench. She was such a natural. She sat on it with her legs crossed without a care about what me or other people would think. I loved that. And as we talked and talked - it had occurred to me of what a magnificent encounter I just had. This will sound dramatic but this thought did pass through my head: “I think I found the love of my life”.
Slow down Luca.
Yes, she seems truly amazing and unique, but I can’t let my guard down so fast. We stayed in the park and talked for hours. Time flew by so fast as we went on and on talking about our life experiences. At some point she asked me if I was “present”. Then I told her we should take a break from speaking and embrace the silence to truly be present. I suggested we’d do that for 10 seconds and that’s what we did.
What a beautiful, astounding view. The lush Bryant Park, the energy of Manhattan and the lights of the tall buildings all around us. I really really wanted to just look at her but that would’ve been a bit weird.
We decided we’d meet again on Saturday - my last day in New York (for now!). We walked to the subway station and she opened her arms to get a hug. I went in for the hug but soon stopped to get the camera out of the way (it was hanging on my chest and I didn’t wanted anything in between us). That made her giggle a little. Then I hugged her - properly. That’s how I met Leslie.
0 notes
mctreeleth · 4 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Here it is! The instructions to make a pieced and quilted plague doctor mask!
Just as a heads up, this pattern is not really recommended for beginners. There is not a whole lot of explanation of the basic techniques, and it requires a fair bit of precision, two types of fusible interfacing, and an assumption that you can keep a consistent seam allowance and do some hand sewing and know when to sew things right sides together and such.
I am not promising anything, different methods will yield different results, I have never made a pattern exactly as it was written and neither should you. If you want something the same as the next person, go to the shops.
Actually, nevermind, this is a quarantine craft, stay home.
There are two ways to do the piecing for this project. The first is a quilting technique called English Paper Piecing, there are plenty of tutorials online, but it is done by hand and I do not have the patience for it. Still, if you have the time but not the machinery, it is probably your best option for a very good finish. Cut the pattern net out of card, glue the bits onto your fabric, sew them up, pull them out and add interfacing after. I sewed three hexies together once and got bored and gave up.
The method I actually used involves my favourite cheat for sewing: you can use an inkjet printer to print on non-woven fusible interfacing! There are ridiculously overpriced pre-cut packs available, but also you can just cut up some midweight to the right size. I just have a boring old Epson printer, and I can get away with just putting some scotch tape along the edge that feeds in for a bit of stability. Alternatively, depending on the brand, you can “fuse” it onto some non-stick baking paper, cut it to size, and then peel it off without losing too much adhesive. (My pictures look a little different because my original A4 version fits on the page differently than the shared version)
Tumblr media
Printing onto interfacing means I know my dimensions are perfect, and I have the markings on the pieces so I know what joins to what. If you only have a laser printer, or your inkjet hates you and wont let you print on interfacing, I still recommend using fusible interfacing for structure and precision piecing. You will just need to keep a lot better track of what is what, because the pieces are all slightly different and they only go together one way.
The actual “pattern” for this project is a geometric net. I highly recommend making one in paper or cardstock first, because we all have different sized heads.  As with most quilting projects, it will generally get to be a little bit smaller again once it is all sewn together, so keep that in mind.
Tumblr media
This is a link to the PDF on Google Drive. It is a 4 page document, for printing on US letter size. There is enough space around the pieces that it can also print onto A4 paper: the one inch square should measure 2.5cm. Similarly, the extra space means it can be scaled up a bit before any gets cut off, if you have a particularly large face.
(Edited to add: if you were going to make this in a single fabric rather than pieced together patchwork pieces, I have uploaded a simplified version of the pattern, which has more curved seams which are easier to match. The technique is otherwise the same, but note that these patterns do not have seam allowances - you will need to add them when you cut your fabric so that the pieces match.)
The body of the mask is made up of two mirrored (four total) pieced together bits, plus some circles to go around the lenses. There are two mirrored top pieces, and two mirrored bottom pieces. The top pieces are numbered 1-14, and are split over two pages and need to be joined together. The bottom pieces are lettered A-H. On one side of the pattern the numbers and letters are circled, so you know which side you are working on. There are also small dashes in the corners of the pieces; single dashes connect to single dashes, double dashes connect to double dashes. At the parts that become the edges of the eye holes, there are little dots at the end of the dashes.
Tumblr media
Even if you are printing onto interfacing, you will also need to do a paper printout, as it will be used later as a pattern to cut the batting and the lining. The paper printout can also be used to work out your fabric placement, if you are going for a certain look (again, this one was printed as an all in one A4 sheet, but it works the same).
Tumblr media
Cutting the Patchworked Outer
If you have managed to print onto fusible interfacing, all you need to do is cut the pieces. Otherwise, do what you need to trace the pieces onto interfacing, making notes of where they go and which sides align to what.
Once you have your interfacing pieces cut and organized, fuse them to your fabrics with at least enough room between and around them for seam allowances on each side.
Tumblr media
I use a 1cm seam allowance, but feel free to use a quarter or half inch if that is what you are used to.
Tumblr media
Trim all the pieces to have a consistent seam allowance.
Tumblr media
Lay the trimmed pieces out on the paper printouts. This will let you know if there are any pieces missing, or any parts where fabric duplicates might share a seam.
Tumblr media
Piecing the Patchworked Outer
First, piece together the nets of the bottom pieces. Put a straight pin straight through at the corners of the interfacings of two neighboring pieces, so they are perfectly aligned. Then angle the pin on the right hand side so it comes back up along where the seam will go, and angle the one on the left so that it is going across.
Tumblr media
Sew along the edge of the interfacing, aiming for just alongside of it, not on it.
Tumblr media
Finger press the seams open, then repeat until all the pieces are together.
Tumblr media
The technique for the top pieces is the same, but at any join which ends at an eyehole (marked on the pattern with a black dot on the ends of the dash), backstitch at the end of the interfacing, so that it won’t pull apart at the edge. The seam allowance at this part will be cut off, so it needs to be secured before that point to prevent it from pulling apart.
Batting and Quilting
Properly press all the pieces, with the seams open.
Tumblr media
Using the paper pattern, cut out two mirrored top and bottom pieces from fusible batting.
Tumblr media
Iron these onto the inside of the pieced parts, so that their edges line up with the interfacings. In my experience, the best way to iron on fusible batting is from the right side, so I pin them in place and flip them over, iron a little bit so they barely stick, pull out the pins, and fuse properly.
Tumblr media
Do some quilting. I just went 5mm to the side of every seam, because the next lot of seams need to be topstitched in the same way, and I like the consistency.
Tumblr media
Assembly of the Patchworked Outer
Join together the gap in the top pieces. The batting was aligned to the interfacing, so the technique is the same.
Tumblr media
Press the seams apart and topstitch the seams to either side.
Tumblr media
Trim off the excess seam allowance around the eye holes to the edge of the batting and interfacing. this was why we needed to backstitch earlier.
Tumblr media
The next step joins the top and bottom pieces together. The bottom piece attaches to the more curved edge of the top piece - that last seam that was joined after adding the batting will meet these side seams, angled towards the tip of the beak. Sewing the sides is the trickiest bit to do on the machine, so, while I would normally say basting is for cowards, if you want the points to match perfectly, this is a time when pinning will not really cut it. I just hand sew through each point where the seams join, go back through a couple of threads over, and tie it off. 
Tumblr media
Then I put pins through the longer seams.
Tumblr media
When sewing it with the machine, try to keep the lines as straight as possible, making turns only at the seams where you put a basting stitch.
Tumblr media
Once both sides are sewn, press the seams open and topstitch to either side.
Tumblr media
Repeat this step for the top centre seam. You can just pin baste this one if you would rather, because the angles match, but it is literally right there in the middle where everyone can see it, so if you are not confident in matching points, baste it.
Tumblr media
Press the seams open and topstitch.
Tumblr media
The technique is the same for the bottom centre seam, but topstitching all the way to the tip of the beak is not possible, so you will have to do the last bit of top stitching by hand.
Tumblr media
It doesn’t matter so much if it is a bit messy, because it is not in a place where it can really be seen, but spitting the seam will help it hold its shape more nicely.
Tumblr media
That is the pretty outside bit done.
Tumblr media
Making and Attaching the Lining
To make the lining, use the paper pattern to cut two mirrored pieces of the top and bottom pieces, with whatever seam allowance you prefer.
Tumblr media
The gap on the top piece will have a maximum possible seam allowance of about a quarter inch, but this is enough for a secure internal seam. The eye holes do not need a seam allowance.
Tumblr media
Sew together the gaps in the top pieces, then sew the top seam of the top pieces and the centre seam of the bottom pieces together.
Tumblr media
Open up both pieces and sew the sides together. You should have a lining piece that is a floppy, boring version of the outside piece.
Tumblr media
I have not included a step for how to make a strap, because everyone has their own preferred methods, and there are plenty of alternative options. If you don’t want to worry about making strapping you can use ribbon or elastic, or put a small loop there to thread something through afterwards. Whatever the choice, pin to the centre of the back edges of pattern pieces #10, facing towards the eye holes.
Tumblr media
Put the lining piece, facing right side in, over the pieced outer and the strap pieces and pin around the edges, lining up the four seams of the lining with the seams on the outer.
Tumblr media
Sew around the edge.
Tumblr media
Turn the piece right side out through one of the lining’s eye holes. You just sort of pull the pieced outer (which is currently inside) back a bit, until the tip of the beak can come through an eye hole, and then try to pull it through as gently as possible so that the raw edge of the eye hole doesn’t get too stretched and frayed.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Then push the lining back into the pieced outer body of the mask.
Tumblr media
Pin around the edge, so that the lining is all tucked neatly inside.
Tumblr media
Top stitch over the edge.
Tumblr media
Eye hole time!
Pin the outer and lining together in the eye holes, and top stitch about 4mm (1/6th of an inch) from the edges. Trim any fraying bits.
Tumblr media
Hand stitch 1 inch wide bias binding to the inner edge of the eye hole, just over the top stitch.
Tumblr media
Flip the bias binding through the eye hole to the outer, fold the raw edge of the bias binding under itself, and hand stitch it down to the outside. Repeat for the other eye.
Tumblr media
This next step is the worst bit, and if you have another method, go for it. Theoretically you could use something thicker that wouldn’t fray, like a felt or leather, so that you didn’t have to worry about lining the eye holes, but it depends on the look you are going for.
Cut out four circles from fabric, two of the biggest size, two of the medium size. Draw the smallest size circle in the middle of the back of the medium sized circle, and stack it on top of the centre of the big one, right sides together. From the fusible batting, cut two donut shapes of the medium size with the smallest circle cut out of the centre.
Tumblr media
Using very small stitches, sew around the small circle drawn on the medium sized circles. Fuse the donut of batting to the back of the large circle, with the inside of the donut matching the sewn line. Cut an even smaller hole out of the middle, so that the seam allowance that remains is a slightly smaller width than the batting. Clip this into at least 12 pieces.
Tumblr media
Press the smaller circle towards the centre, so that it can be turned in though the hole. 
Tumblr media
This will take a lot of careful ironing and pinning. Let it sit for a bit, so that it learns to be there.
Tumblr media
Then unpin it, but hopefully the little clipped bits will stay there. Fold the bigger circle down over them – you will need a lot of little tiny pleats – making the outer edge as round as possible.
Tumblr media
Then press that smaller circle back down over the pleats, so that it is level with the folded outer edge. If it sticks over in any places, trim it back, but only just.
Tumblr media
Pin this donut shape over the eye piece. The inside edge of the donut should be level with the inside of the bias binding, the raw edge up against the outer fabric.
Tumblr media
Hand sew around the outer edge of the donut to the pieced fabric. Make sure that the raw edge from the smaller circle is under the donut, but do not let it flip out through the middle. On the machine, top stitch about a quarter inch from the outer edge.
Tumblr media
This should catch the raw edge inside, and leave a ridge between the outer eye donut and the bias bound eye hole. From the inside, it should be possible to pop in a round lens from a pair of sunglasses, or an improvised lens such as a circle of clear plastic cut from the lid of an old takeaway container, or some transparent holographic vinyl, such as this stuff on amazon. Repeat for the other eye hole.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hooray! You are all done!
I am really not sure on the efficacy of this as an actual viable mask. On the one hand, there are a lot of seams through which germs could pass, but on the other hand, the fact that the lining is a bit loose and baggy inside the beak might cancel that out.
Depending on your materials, it should be machine washable, although it will almost certainly look a lot less crisp.
I had a lot of issues with my lenses fogging up after a couple of minutes of me wearing it, but who knows, maybe I am just a very wet breather.
Tumblr media
I am not going to charge anything for this pattern, nor am I going to place restrictions on what you do with the items you make. I do not control your right to profit from your work. All art is derivative, and you making your own version transforms this pattern. Don’t let assertions of intellectual property rights be another way you are alienated from your labour. If you decide to sell your work, demand fair remuneration for your time and skills. Someone offering to pay for the materials is not enough. If you have decided to take an activity you love and turn it into work, make it worthwhile.
On the flip side, please don’t try to sell this bit of writing or the PDF of the pattern net or these photographs. They are free for you and for everyone else. Resist society’s message that you should try to profit from your every action, and especially resist the notion that true success is achieved by profiting from anyone else’s labour.
If you want to discuss this stuff further, I would love that! I am researching the commodification of creative knowledge for my PhD, focusing on quilt patterns and designs. Message me @mctreeleth on tumblr and instagram or @sarasewsstuff on twitter for my uni email.
Edit: I have added in a link to a simplified version if you are going to make this with a single fabric rather than patchwork piecing. 
35K notes · View notes
needleandhammer · 3 years
Text
From Simmer to Score
Pairing: Soft!Curtis Everett x Reader
Summary: Curtis is good with his hands. And other stuff.
Warnings: 18+ only, explicit, smut, oral sex, penetration, fingering, dub con breeding, unprotected sex, breeding kink sort of, size kink, petite!reader, Curtis' fingers
Word count: 4k
A/N: This doesn't really fit the prompt i chose from @stargazingfangirl18 's 5k Soft Dark Challenge: "You hire a local handyman to help you with a few home projects." But the prompt still inspired this. I wanted to take the prompt somewhere more explicitly dark but once again my contribution to this challenge turned marshmallow soft. This is an au, non-apocalypse au, normal life au, idk. Just self-indulgent. Also, it was a struggle finding a gif of clean Curtis. Because he's clean in this and not living on a train, i swear.
Tumblr media
“Try again. Very good. Let’s have you run through the exercises and then we’ll take a look at the new homework."
At your smile, the little girl nods and quickly turns to concentrate on coordinating her footwork on the pedals of your old Altenberg while reading the notes in front of her.
You back away, heading to the kitchen for some iced tea. You nearly forget your other guest who sits at the table.
This is the third time he’s accompanied Wendy for her lessons. For a man of his size, Curtis makes no sound except the faint swish of pages turning in his book. Like before, he arrived with Wendy, nodded a greeting at you, waited for your invitation to the kitchen, and then spent the entire hour silently reading.
You pull the fridge door open and pour tea into three glasses. You quietly slide one towards him. Curtis’ eyes flicker up to you, brilliantly blue, and he gives you a low murmur.
“Thanks.”
You’re about to return to Wendy when you hear your name in Curtis’ smooth baritone.
He nods to the notepad left on the table. “I, uh, noticed your reminder to call for maintenance. Something wrong?”
“Oh.” You tidy up the table, sheepish at being caught procrastinating house chores. “Just needed a second look at the water heater. The repair company came by and we tested things out when they were done, but the next day I had no hot water.”
You grimace, thinking of taking another cold shower.
“If you’re okay with it, I can grab my tool bag from my car and take a look,” he says.
You’re not prepared for the offer. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”
He shakes his head, no hesitance. “I don’t mind at all. As long as you don’t.”
“I mean. I-I would really appreciate the help.”
Your time with Wendy ends after you review practice goals with her until her next lesson.
Curtis joins you two. “Hot water is running again.”
Your jaw drops and you skip to the kitchen. Hot water pours out of your faucet. You return, unable to resist grinning widely at him.
“Thank you, Curtis. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Curtis taught my dad everything about fixing houses!” Wendy chirped. He offers her a crooked smile.
“Do you have everything?” you ask your young pupil.
While Wendy thanks you and you help her pack, Curtis watches on with a faint curve to his lips.
“Edgar’s changing over to late shifts for the next couple of months. I’ll probably be driving Wendy to lessons again.”
You nod. “Sounds good. See you both then.”
After they leave, you enjoy a glorious steamy shower and then you settle onto your couch with a plate of leftover grilled veggies and fish.
Reviewing your schedule, you consider taking on one or two more students. It was years ago that you gave private lessons to help pay for college. Nearly a decade of moving between a few jobs, you are now in a quiet suburb working with a team of digital designers. The job allows you to work from home half the week, a flexibility you take great appreciation in. The professional stability encouraged you to return to music and to helping others develop their musical interests.
Wendy is your only student at the moment as you want to ease into taking on this additional responsibility. You smile, recalling your initial meeting with Wendy and her father, Edgar. Her father’s bubbly energy is such a stark contrast to Curtis. Edgar opened up quickly, sharing that he and Wendy’s mother were no longer together, that he would support whatever Wendy wanted to do. There was a perpetually youthful vigor to the room when Edgar was present.
Wendy calls Curtis, Uncle, and his adoration for her is clear. He barely said two words when he was here the first time. It doesn’t bother you. You get the impression Curtis purposely tries to not draw attention to himself, and you can empathize with that preference for tranquility.
_ _ _ _
It’s a windy day, heavy with rain clouds, the next time Wendy and Curtis are over.
“I saw your screen door was down. Planning on replacing it?” Curtis asks when you wrap up with Wendy.
“Nah. I was just going to look up what I would need and try fixing it myself.”
“It’s kind of heavy.”
His tone doesn’t imply any skepticism aimed at you and you’re not offended. You’re used to people calling you ‘small,’ though you’re not small so much as you’re short. You like to think you take up ample space. You also admit strength is not something you have in abundance. Your whole life you relied on family and friends for a lot of literal heavy lifting. But Curtis already helped you out once.
“I could fix it up.”
“I won’t ask you to do that.”
“It’s no bother, really. I’m happy to help out.”
He promises to be quick about it. While he works, Wendy happily practices on your piano.
“I have Oreos,” you announce.
She pauses to grab a cookie. “Thank you so much for letting me practice longer.”
“Of course, dear.”
She chats a bit about her upcoming birthday plans, as children are wont to do.
Curtis pops his head in. “All set. Do you want to take a look?”
You follow him out back. Swinging the screen door on its hinges, you nodded appraisingly.
“I suppose it passes inspection.” You look up with a cheeky smile, pleased to see Curtis’ lips twitching. “Thank you. Really, Curtis. I do wish you’d let me pay you.”
He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Besides, you’re great with Wendy. I’m grateful for that.”
You can tell he loves Wendy just as much as if he was her father. “In that case, I shall give Wendy her next lesson for free.”
He blinks at you, trailing behind as you make your way inside and calling out to Wendy.
Curtis has resigned himself to a quiet, bare life. He doesn't think he wants anything much. He has Edgar’s loyalty, a result of the brotherhood he formed in his impoverished teen years. They survived together, looked out for each other. Once Wendy came along like a little star burning in a smoggy midnight, Curtis counted himself lucky to witness the little girl growing up. A chance to help nourish one seed.
The first time he arrived with Wendy at your home, Curtis couldn’t help listening in on the entire lesson, making no progress in his book. Your clear voice, your generous encouragement. You, light on your feet moving so swiftly. You, barely reaching his shoulders yet mighty in spirit, curvy and sensuous. Curtis had an urge to lift you in his palms to be stored safely in his pocket.
_ _ _ _
And so things follow. Wendy diligently learning and Curtis primarily accompanying her, taking his place at your kitchen table. You come to enjoy his steady, grounding presence just a couple steps away from you and Wendy.
Now and then, he’ll notice some upkeep you’re doing – a leaky faucet, a box of new light bulbs on your counter – and volunteer his assistance. You are reluctant to put him to work, sure that he spends enough of his days working and doing chores in his own home and besides these are tasks you can handle even if you find them tedious. Curtis is always gentle in his offers, always obtains your permission first. As time goes by and you grow less shy about accepting his help and he grows more comfortable in your space, you realize working with his hands is second nature to Curtis.
It doesn't take long for Curtis to admit to himself he wants to be near you.
Curtis doesn’t meddle. He doesn’t mingle. He doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. He is aware you thrived on your own for a long time, just like him; and like he has Edgar and Wendy, you have a small close-knit group of friends. Lending a hand to you doesn’t count because you are like him.
Maybe this is why he lets his guard down under your roof. There is something kindred in your calm nature that his soul responds to. Under your roof, no silences need to be filled; no pretenses forced upon him. Your invitation to rest is unspoken – he hears it and almost weeps. The more time he spends with you, like two wavelengths in tune, the stronger his urge to insert himself. To fix, or in some way leave his mark on your home. Curtis doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. Lending a hand to you didn't count. Until he cannot help it. He doesn’t reach out for you, doesn’t try to prove you’ll curve perfectly within his arms; but he’ll ensure your softness can curl up in a sturdy home and delight in simple pleasures.
One evening, when Edgar works later than usual, you ask if Wendy and Curtis would join you for dinner.
“Nothing fancy. I have some noodle soup and salad. Curtis, can you call Edgar to meet us here?”
Wendy sets the table. Curtis assists with the food.
He’s quick to cup your hand in his when it's nicked with a knife. You can’t help leaning into him as he runs your finger under water, wraps it in clean paper towel. He finishes with the salad, making you sit at the table.
Edgar joins you all, tired but quickly gaining energy with food and a few sips of wine. You are full and warmed by their company. While Edgar cheers on Wendy while she practices from her book, you feel Curtis’ fingers curl over your hand. His thumb brushes over your cut. You share a smile with him.
_ _ _ _
You settle into your little Toyota only to find it won’t start. It stumps you because you never had issues with this car before. You have no experience with car maintenance and don’t know the first thing to check for an engine that won’t wake.
Calling Curtis to see if you can reschedule, he insists that he can swing by to pick you up.
He had called you, his voice almost shy. He wanted to surprise Wendy for her birthday with a piano and asked for your help.
You direct Curtis to the string instruments shop in the city’s downtown area. The two of you are greeted by a sales staff upon entry. When asked, Curtis looks to you, wordless, so you do your best to describe to the salesperson what you're looking for.
There are several options of acoustic and digital instruments. You give little demonstrations on a few pianos that you consider reasonably priced.
“Curtis, check this one out.” Your hold on his sleeve is loose and propels him towards one of the upright Baldwin pianos.
“I think any of these would suit Wendy. The sounds are clear, and they don’t take up too much space. The salesperson said this one is second-hand and it’s in really good shape.” You press a few chords, then look up at Curtis with a smile.
He looks at you, gaze gentle. “I’m not worried about price. I’ll take whatever you recommend.”
That was his general response when you asked his opinion during your time in the shop: he was up for anything you recommended. Other than that, he trailed behind you so that the salesperson assumed you were the primary purchaser. Much like in your house, Curtis seemed to try hard to not draw attention. Oddly, you didn’t think anyone in the same room with him could help noticing him. Even with the dark apparel he favored, Curtis’ reserved nature can't hide all the intensity and strength just thrumming beneath the surface of his tall imposing build.
You convince him to sit beside you on the bench. He’s never played before, but humors you and tries random combinations of thirds with you. You watch his hands – clean, wide, with thick fingers – hover and slide along the keys.
He nudges you.
“Sorry. I was just impressed your sausage fingers are quite nimble.”
A half-hearted glare. “Thank you. For coming with me.”
“If I say you’re welcome, will you take a look at my car when we get back?”
He stays for dinner.
It starts raining and you have to rush out to gather hanging linens. He helps and you both run back inside. You're giddy at his eagerness to assist, resulting in damp clothing on you both.
“Oh, let’s dump it here. I’ll fold it tomorrow.” You are happy to leave the laundry in a pile on an armchair, in too good of a mood to care.
You catch him with his attention on you, a look so soft you have to look away, walk blindly a few steps. His touch is on your arm, turning you around just as you reach the piano.
He dips his head low to press chapped lips to yours, capturing your lips more, closing in to envelope you in his heat.
Curtis’ hands grip your hips with a quick jostle against the piano, prompting a slur of bright notes ringing from the keyboard that you are pressed against. And then he’s hitching you further up and firmly in his arms. His tongue licks against yours. You slant your open mouth, inviting him to taste, to devour you from the inside out. Your legs wrap around his waist like you belong there, tethered to this point in time. There’s no past or future, only Curtis, only feeling safe and real in his arms now now now.
You barely register Curtis moving, tipping you onto the couch cushions to hover over you so close. You can’t remember burning for someone like this. You can’t remember much of anything, focused on Curtis, solid and unyielding between your thighs, muscles buzzing with raw strength.
You want so badly to know more of him. Your hands wander shamelessly under his shirt, sliding up his wide back, grazing under to squeeze appreciatively at his pecs only to be called south by a narrowing of hair that leads you on until you bump his belt buckle.
You’re distracted by the tease of hot kisses he drops along your neck. There’s something sweet, vulnerable in how you allow him access to the delicate skin there. It makes Curtis bury his nose against the crook of your jaw, a long moment for him to whisper something like a prayer, before his tongue swirls and he nibbles your ear lobe. Your high pitched gasp hastens his desire. Your shirt is gone. Your bra untangled from your arms. Your breasts, oh, Curtis takes a mouthful of one fleshy breast, sucking greedily when you moan, breathless and aching now.
You claw at his shirt until it too disappears. You wriggle to help Curtis pull your pants and underwear off. Your legs want to yank him back to you, but he braces himself to allow just a bit more space between you both than before.
“Let me.” It’s almost a growl, and you want to say yes, but you want to kiss him more. You’re clinging by his neck, drinking from his soft lips, until you both part to draw breath.
His hand caresses your cheek, sliding over to slip two fingers into your slack mouth. Your tongue swipes at them, lips close to suck them in, eager to touch and taste any part of him. Jaw tight, Curtis pulls his fingers away and down. Down. His hand spans large over your curves and you hold your breath, grit your teeth. One finger saturated with saliva, sinks into your cunt. You swear you can feel more arousal dripping from you to soak his hand and he adds another finger, drawing short whimpers from you as his fingers withdraw and plunge in. God, you won’t ever tease him about his fingers again because they’re perfect. Agonizing in their quest to undo you.
His voice is husky groans, wanting so bad to feel your oh so tight cunt around his cock. Soon.
He tortures you, adds a third finger. You’re riding them, whimpering as he pumps them in you and parts the digits to stretch you. His weight slides away and you can only grasp at his hair, you’re barely glimpsing his head between your legs before you arch high when his thick wet tongue swirls and licks your folds, dialing up the white hot blooming inside you. His fingers curl just enough inside to press that patch against your pelvis that strings you tight as a bow. Pressing insistently, scratching with finger pads, until you burst and all you can do is chase more of that pulsing pleasure, humping against his face. Your hips quiver while Curtis laps at your slit.
His sucks grow gentle, thumb teasing your bud, helping you come down from the intense high.
You sigh his name.
“I’m here.”
“I want you.”
His arms wind around you, holding you tight while he kisses you. You can’t remember feeling anything better than being cradled like this as Curtis languidly kisses you.
He’s not rushed to move from you, so you cling to him and he loves you for it. Yes, he’s hard, but he wants to savor this. Already high on the sensation of your soft flesh underneath him, your thick thighs tight at his waist, your quiet hums of pleasure the evidence of his thorough work.
He ran from his past, from early years strife with despair, washing away those memories like dust and grime. He thought his life of isolation was one that moved him forward; but he has been stuck all this time.
Seeing you care for Wendy, Curtis realized he wanted that. He wanted what his friend had. He wanted you, and the precious something conceived between two souls that sing for one another. Soon. He’ll make your sweet little body his to protect, to warm through the nights.
_ _ _ _
“Thanks so much for having us for dinner,” Edgar says. He was been watching Wendy run around your humble backyard, chasing butterflies and searching for little frogs. He turns to you with a toothy grin. “And for your help with the gift. Wendy’s going to flip. I’m lucky to have you and Curtis both around.”
Your smile is just as affectionate. “Happy to have you here. Although,” your smile turns sly, “I’m a little disappointed that your special lady friend didn’t join us.”
“Curtis,” Edgar mutters under his breath. Curtis is washing dishes at the sink and pays no mind to any half-hearted curses directed at him.
Your brow arches, urging Edgar to talk as he can't help an embarassed grin.
“Well, she was traveling for work, unfortunately. But I know Wendy doesn’t mind her.”
The girl has whispered to you that Edgar’s girlfriend is beautiful and she wished she would become her new mom; this you keep to yourself, not wishing to embarrass or pressure your friend further.
“I’m happy to hear that.”
Edgar’s eyes slide sideways, quiet for a moment before he jumps out of his seat and heads to the door leading to the backyard. “I’ll just…uh…” He exits, trailing off without finishing his sentence.
You sigh and take another bite of your cake, indulging in the moist chocolate flavor. Glancing up, you find Curtis watching you. His attention is singular, a warm simmer in those bright blue eyes, causing you to freeze except for your tongue that finishes sweeping over your upper lip. His gaze narrows, grew weighty, tracking your tongue as it retreats into your mouth. He pushes away from the counter, steps close until he is able to drop to his knee beside your chair. One strong yank has your seat turning so you face him.
The door creaks open again.
“Well, the sun’s getting low so I think we’ll head home and wind down.” Edgar announces with his daughter close at his side. He has a boyish grin on his face, pulling Wendy towards the front of your house. "Wendy, say good bye.”
“Isn’t Curtis leaving too?”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll leave when he’s ready.”
“Have a good night, you two,” you say, walking with them to the front. Though Edgar is still cheerfully thanking you for the meal and insisting you stay inside and not see them off.
“You go on and just have a good time, both of you.” He sends a wink your way. You shake your head at him. “Curtis! You be a gentleman now.”
Quick as he can, he has Wendy secured in the car and they are on their way.
“Huh.” You lock the front door before turning to find Curtis. You can tell he wants to roll his eyes at Edgar’s antics. Instead, he closes in on you.
“Are you worried about me not being a gentleman?” he murmurs. His fingers hook under yours loosely.
You smirk. “I’m worried about you being too much of a gentleman.”
That smolder returns to his gaze. For a second, your body shivers, overwhelmed and you side step him, if only for a moment’s relief from the heat of his eyes.
You reach out. He takes your hand.
Once you’re down a layer, he grows even hotter seeing the mesh and lace number you have on. A tantalizing tease with the hard peaks of your nipples veiled in barely-there maroon. Just daring him to unwrap you. So he does.
His mouth leaves a wet trail seeking sensitive spots on your neck, you breasts, your thighs. Even as he moves, he still covers nearly all of your body, his heat and weight drowning you in want.
Your shudder has him grazing his beard up the inside of your thigh so that you arch and plea for his touch. God, all your uninhibited responses spur the blazing hunger in him. Curtis peels the mesh underwear down, impatient for a taste of you. His mouth waters, catching wafts of arousal and then he’s sucking and lapping your wet pussy. His rumbling groan is like a physical nudge that bows your back, and you remain rigid in the air at the sensation of his thick tongue pushing into you. Wide shoulders part your legs, shifting until your thighs rest on vast muscles.
You rock against him, keen at the hard sucks. Two fingers dip into, fucking you and rubbing with a dizzying rhythm that brings you over the edge.
With little effort, he holds up your hips and you feel a pillow slide under you to angle you higher. Then his muscled arms hook under your knees and he finally lines up and rocks forward. The tip of his cock parts your folds. Your breath hitches. His cock slides in, forcing your walls to stretch, to mold tightly to his girth.
“Curtis” – your hand was going point to the little bedside table with condoms.
Instead, you’re gripping a blanket. Gasping as he withdraws and your pussy tries to hold him in.
You mumble against his lips, incoherent. “The…inside..”
And then he feeds you his length again. And again, that delicious, addicting friction.
"Yes, inside," he agrees softly. "Like this."
With every pump, the spark catches and blazes higher. Curtis rises onto his knees, thrusts harder, watching your eyes flutter open and shut. He’s panting with the pretty picture of a needy you. He grips your thighs. As if his life depends on how tight he clutches you. Concentrating hard, his eyes drop low. Fuck. He can see your pussy clench, your puffy outer lips suckling his cock. Curtis swears your little body is refusing to give him up, and you’re wet but your cunt squeezes him so tight he has to drive harder into you to avoid slipping out.
You’re not even aware of your breathy moans, so turned on by his groans, the rough thrusts he gives you. There’s no grinding. Curtis can tell he’s rubbed against your g-spot and he keeps his snapping hips angled just right, one callused thumb circling your clit too lightly. And then your breaths stutter, your legs seize, your back arches. Curtis grits his teeth, keeping the exact same pace, draws out the storm of your pleasure. It’s so consuming, you lose your voice.
Just as you are able to breathe again, able to sense the physical realm around you, Curtis speeds up, bucking hard with low grunts, powering into you.
A high gasp – you feel him flood you. He drops to press his chest to you, still pumping his release into your clenching walls; and it’s too much, his cock merciless within your sensitive channel. He can’t help it, even as your legs start writhing with his unrelenting stimulation, even as he hears your hitched whimpers.
He finally stills. His lips find yours, tongue stroking deep.
Long moments later, his name is gentle, falling from your lips. “We didn’t use protection.”
Curtis nuzzles you, rubs his nose along the planes of your cheeks. Returns to suck your bottom lip. “It’s okay,” he whispers.
There’s a soft frown upon your brow that he kisses, and then scatters more kisses on your face.
“But, what if?”
“I want you. I want everything with you.”
You’re barely able to react as he nips hard at your collarbone and then rolls his hips. He’s half-hard inside you. You’re quickly losing yourself in Curtis, overwhelmed by the combination of his hungry mouth on your skin, unyielding clasp on your thigh. His thrusts persist, pins you in place, lights you up and scorches you. You’re right where he wants you, whining for more more more.
Now with each beat of his heart, Curtis has his mind’s eye on the prize. He’ll have you over and over. And you’ll grow a piece of him inside you. You are the way forward. You are his.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Hurrah, this one felt like it took forever. I blame Curtis. He didn't give himself up to me easily. Let me love you, ya broody boi! Thank you for reading!
407 notes · View notes
btsmosphere · 3 years
Text
Lost in a Book | JHS
Tumblr media
~summary: you and Jung Hoseok don’t exactly see eye to eye. but when you (literally) fall headfirst into a whole other world, that becomes the least of your worries ~pairing: hoseok x reader ~word count: 8.5k ~enemies to lovers, college au, fantasy au ~rating: g ~warnings: naughty freudian slip, sexual tension, arguing, fire
~a/n: this is my gift for the wonderful @moccahobi‘s birthday! I am so lucky to be friends with someone as funny, hard working and gorgeous as you and I hope you have a great day!! and no, of course I didn’t choose the biggest bingo square only to forget and write this in a week.. (okay, I did, so pls go easy on any errors!) as always the lovely admins at @thebtswritersclub came up with a fun challenge to prompt this story, so I will be including my makeup palette bingo square at the end so you can see what prompts I used for this! enjoy x
Tumblr media
The moment you had seen Jung Hoseok coming through the door, your eyes rolled.
Almost entirely made of large windows, the front of the coffee shop you worked in allowed you to see all the passers-by. So when you spotted your classmate coming down the street, laughing loudly with a couple of friends, you had prayed that he would just pass by.
Of course, you could never get what you wished for.
“Yoongi-“ you tried in vain to capture your friend’s attention, but too late. Yoongi hadn’t even looked around from where he was scrubbing coffee cups when a familiar voice reached your ears, making you groan internally.
“Y/N! Hard day at work? You look frazzled.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” you drawled, resigning yourself to serving him.
He simply leaned on the counter, sagging with laughter.
“Always service with a smile with you, isn’t it?”
“I’m sure you’d be just as tired if you even tried to focus in class,” you fired back.
His grin didn’t even falter. But at last, he dropped his teasing. With a scoff he ordered a tea and turned around, scrolling on his phone with his back to you as you got to work.
It seemed you had grabbed Yoongi’s attention after all, judging by the poorly-hidden snort from the washing up area.
Scowling, you chucked together a cup of tea distractedly, only too relieved when you pushed it over the counter to be rid of Hoseok. So when he sipped it only to wince in disgust, your heart sank.
“Jesus, where’s the caffeine? This is so weak.”
Your desire to argue back lost its short-lived wrestle with your customer service training, and you were reluctantly offering to make a new one. This time, you forced yourself to pay more attention. You knew that way, you could actually get rid of the nuisance on the other side of the counter.
“You see Y/N, the bag goes in the water,” Hoseok remarked, leaning over to see what you were doing.
Shooting the most passionate glare you could muster had the undesirable effect of sending him into peals of laughter.
Eventually, after making a point to leave the teabag in for much longer – at least until you noticed his fingers begin to tap on the countertop – you passed over his second cup with a sarcastic smile. His mood didn’t seem to have dampened that much, but he left without a fuss.
“You have great chemistry.”
The dry remark from behind you had you whirling around to glare at Yoongi instead. He stood in front of his stack of clean washing, observing you with a smirk.
“I don’t think Jung Hoseok knows what chemistry is,” you grumbled.
But as you set to work, a little aggressively, on scrubbing the counter, you never would have guessed how right you were. Or that it would soon become your responsibility.
Tumblr media
“So when we sleep, what part of the brain transfers memory from white to grey matter?”
“…what’s grey matter again?”
“I think you could do with some more of it,” you muttered in lieu of an answer.
Hoseok lifted his head from his arms just enough to fix you with reproachful puppy eyes. Sighing, you tugged the textbook back across the table towards you, flipping a few pages back and jabbing your finger at the relevant passage.
Raising an eyebrow, he read it for the second time today with a growing frown.
“Long term…” he said at length.
“Long term memory!” you groaned, dropping your forehead against the heel of your hands.
Behind you, you knew Jungkook and Yoongi were watching this unfold with amusement. You weren’t sure you could take much more of this.
If you had envisaged this when you had signed up for your college’s mentor program, well, you may have changed your mind.
At last, the hour dragged by. Apparently Hoseok wanted to be there as little as you, collecting the books and leaving very quickly once you were done. Though your shift was over, you were sure you might explode if you didn’t get to rant about the guy right now.
Huffing, you marched over to the counter.
“He’s such a jerk!” you threw your hands out, “his ego’s so big, it’s like he thinks he’s too good to even try! And now it’s up to me to make sure he isn’t so behind, but there is so much to do!”
Your coworkers weren’t helping. Both had given up suppressing their laughter, openly enjoying your pain.
“You guys are no help,” you grumbled, folding your arms.
“Just be patient,” Jungkook offered, “it might get better in time.”
“Patience is not something Jung Hoseok inspires,” you retorted, “and I’m being good enough as it is! I even had the generosity to lend him my textbook!”
“You’re a saint,” Yoongi chuckled.
A withering glare later, you slung your bag over your shoulder and bid your friends a tired goodbye.
Tumblr media
Much as you hated to admit it, there may have been some truth in what Jungkook told you. Patience did seem to be the key after all. A lot of patience.
A few more meetings had passed, and Hoseok remembered a lot more now. You weren’t sure whether it was due to the quality of your teaching or just a desire to avoid your constant scolding, but it didn’t matter too much. The result was what counted.
You were to meet again today. As always, he came as your shift finished so that you could work in the café.
“You like him really.”
Jungkook’s voice tore your eyes away from the clock you had been watching.
“I’m sorry?”
“You like him,” he repeated, “I’ve never seen you so impatient to get off work.”
“What? I’m not,” you scoffed, “it’s just-“
The little jingling bell above the door interrupted you. Never finishing your thought, you left Jungkook to meet Hoseok at the counter.
“Tea?” you asked him.
“Not if you’re making it,” he quipped, eyes already skimming the menu on the wall behind you.
You scoffed with a roll of your eyes, but said no more. Hoseok’s teasing eyes returned to you as he said,
“Think you can manage a hot chocolate?”
“Of course I can make hot cock-“ your eyes widened at your momentary slip “-chocolate. I can make hot chocolate-“
But for all your correcting and muttering, there was no hiding your embarrassing moment from Hoseok, whose eyes lit up with surprise before laughter spilled out of him in reams.
“I didn’t mean to make you so flustered, Y/N!” he cackled.
Biting your tongue, you hid your burning face from him as he half-collapsed against the counter with the force of his laughter. You angrily set to work on the drink, milk sloshing in the jug as you thrust it under the machine.
“With whipped scream on top too, huh?”
Hoseok’s incessant mocking didn’t stop until you had handed him the drink. If anything could prove to Jungkook just how wrong he was, this should do it. Still, you didn’t dare to turn around and see what your friend made of the situation.
Mixing the powder into the hot milk forcefully, you glared down at the cup.
Damn Jung Hoseok! He couldn’t be any more infuriating if he tried. It wasn’t your fault he was so annoying it made it hard for you to think straight. No one else managed to rile you up so much as him.
You gave him the drink with a side of deathly glare. It only served to amuse him more.
Safe to say you were dreading the next hour.
Clocking off soon after, you hung up your apron regretfully and headed across to your usual table. Thankfully Hoseok was a bit more subdued now.
Unfortunately, you were about to find out why.
“So, Y/N,” he started as you were sitting down.
This brought your attention to him straight away. Your eyes narrowed as he toyed with his mug on the table, avoiding your eyes.
“So, uh, that textbook you lent me-“
You had a bad feeling already. Looking around, you didn’t notice it on the usual pile of books.
“Where is it?” you cut him off.
At last he raised his head to meet your eyes, and you didn’t like what you saw.
“It’s not like we need it that badly anyway,” he began, though you weren’t sure you had ever heard him sound so hesitant, “we finished most of the stuff in there anyway…”
“You lost it, didn’t you?”
“Well, yeah. And I think I also spilled some-“
Not waiting for him to finish, you exclaimed your frustration.
“I can’t believe you! Just because you don’t see a use for ever picking up a book, I need that! I don’t have that kind of money spare either…”
As you raked a hand through your hair, Hoseok decided now was the time to be helpful.
“Gosh, I was afraid you would do this. We have a library for a reason, you know?”
Stopping your train of thought abruptly, you lowered your hand to glower at him.
“And now you’re going to make me go in the library? Ugh, you really have it out for me.”
Incredulous laughter followed. Hoseok leaned back in his chair, observing you with raised eyebrows.
“You’re telling me you believe in those stupid rumours?”
Shifting uncomfortably, you shrugged.
“Well, you’ve got to admit the place is creepy, right? And my flatmate said she knew that girl Cindy-“
As you spoke, Hoseok’s laughing grew louder, steadily filling the café until you were forced to stop.
“What?” you hissed.
“We’ve all heard about “Cindy”,” he made quotation marks in the air, “but that’s just a story! The older students made it up to scare newbies – and it would seem it worked. But everyone knows the scariest thing in the library is just the course reading.”
Biting your tongue, you didn’t muster up a response. You would only face more ridicule if you argued about this.
“Don’t forget the librarian,” you joked half-heartedly.
Hoseok chuckled lightly, and you were glad he dropped the topic after that.
But still the issue of your sorely misused textbook remained.
Tumblr media
There was nothing to be done. You had to go to the library.
It may seem a ridiculous thing to be scared of, especially for someone who loved books, but, as Hoseok had kindly refreshed your memory of, there were… stories. The campus library at your college warranted a degree of wariness.
Most commonly told was the story of Cindy, supposedly a student at the university many years before. No matter how dramatic the story was made, the essentials were the same; she had gone into the library and never come out.
Logically, you knew that this was just one of those quirky urban legends that came to surround certain places.
Nonetheless, your nerves only worsened as you entered the grand building.
On your way in, you only passed one other student. Most people were leaving uni at around this time, but you needed to hang around anyway because your shift was soon. You had sent a quick text to Yoongi to let him know you would be there once you found the book, and somehow it comforted you a little that someone else knew you were here.
Moving through the first few rows of tall bookshelves, you had to pass by the main desk on your way to the section you were looking for.
Doing your utmost to tread with care, sandals making as little noise as you could manage on the wooden floor, you walked on.
As you drew near, the librarian looked up. Greeting them with a bright smile, you didn’t let it show that your heart was really thumping in your chest.
Hurrying along, you only slowed once you had entered the right section. Near the back of the library, it was dimmer as no light from the window reached all the way into the corner. Utter silence dampened the air. Not even the rustling of the librarian sorting papers could be heard from here.
Alone with the hushed sound of your own breath, your eyes flicked along the rows, searching for the right name.
Spotting it at last, you wasted no time in reaching for it. But as you tried to slide it from its spot, you were met with resistance. Perhaps it was very tightly packed in its place.
You tried again with both hands. It was still wedged in, but you felt it give a little so kept pulling. You managed to tug it out a little way, but this time, the book tugged back. Holding onto it as tightly as you were, you stumbled forwards, nearly slipping out of one of your sandals.
Gulping, your brow creased. More determined this time, you tried once more, but it seemed the book only retreated further among its companions on the shelf.
Breathing heavily, you stepped back. Books were not meant to do this. You swore it had moved by itself.
Maybe Hoseok would call you crazy if this was your reason for not getting the textbook. But, you thought, staring back down the empty row of shelves, a science textbook was less important than not getting involved with the strange happenings of the library.
Already you were questioning your sanity. Books didn’t move.
Looking back at it once more, it appeared perfectly unassuming. There was nothing unusual about the book. Maybe your mind was playing tricks, driven from the fear you felt about this place.
Breathing deeply, you reached your hand out for one last try. Picking up a book couldn’t be that hard. As long as you didn’t fear it-
Your fingers came into contact with the spine, and not a moment later, the book shrunk right back. But though it shot out of sight between its neighbours, your hand was stuck to it. Your intent to snatch it straight back at any sign of movement failed, and you were yanked forwards.
Flying clean off your foot now, your sandal clattered to the floor among the silent shelves behind you.
Your stomach jerked at the sudden movement. Now, as you plunged towards the shelves, you screwed your eyes shut, anticipating the imminent collision.
None came.
Instead, your insides seemed to be suspended. You had not crashed, but still your feet didn’t meet the floor; though your eyes were closed you were certain you were falling.
Rapidly upping its pace, your heart tried to punch through your ribs the longer you were in this state, fearing your landing. Panicked, you took great gulps of air, limbs flailing fruitlessly.
You landed.
It felt like you had been falling for a long time – too long – yet the force you hit the ground with was not painful. For a second, it expelled air from your lungs, but by the time you had rolled and tumbled enough to land on your back, you were sucking in a shaky breath.
Blinking, you turned to look around you. Your arms struggled to push you from the ground, but you heaved to sit up anyway.
This was like nowhere you had ever been.
No parquet was beneath you here. The ground was earth, sparse tufts of grass growing from it. But in places, the foliage was abundant, great swathes of vibrant grass surrounding a nearby rock which protruded from the ground.
These rocks were also plentiful, though not of regular size. They poked from the ground, rough surfaces being seized by moss of all colours.
Other plants stretched higher still, all in shades of purple, green and blue. Climbing slowly to your feet, your eyes traced up the stem of a slender tree whose leaves drooped downwards with their size.
The only thing you could hope to recognise were roses that grew in places, curved petals familiar atop their stems that wound around larger plants.
In the scattered canopy above you, there appeared to be vines as well. Climbers, perhaps; it appeared as if they were winding around ceiling beams above you, except that they were in open air, pale sky stretching above them.
Very deliberately, you blinked.
Nothing changed.
Jaw hanging open, you turned slowly around. This place continued the same everywhere you looked. You certainly weren’t in the library anymore.
Taking some effort to breathe evenly, you forced your feet to still.
Remembering your phone, you quickly reached for it. But as you repeatedly pressed the power button, the screen remained black. Either you had let it run down, or it wouldn’t work in this alien place.
You replaced it in your pocket with bitter disappointment and continued to stand still, observing this place.
Purposefully, you walked towards the nearest rock. Given the way you were transported here, you were a little wary of touching random objects, but you tentatively reached for the mossy surface. Briefly grazing it, you jumped backwards, expecting something to happen.
Nothing. Just the springy surface of moss, solid and very real.
Staring at the rock, your mind ran in uncomprehending circles. How had you got here? Why? How could you get out?
Cutting through your thoughts, a thump came from behind you.
Startled, you jumped around, eyes darting in panic around the world you had found yourself in. Nothing seemed to have moved…
A cough, followed by a groan, drifted from somewhere.
Frown deepening, you stepped forwards. A few paces brought you around the next rock, bigger than the last. Not only was it taller than you, it was bordered on one side by more of the tall plants, blocking your view of what was behind it.
This was definitely where the sounds were emanating from. As you cautiously rounded the boulder, rustling sounds reached your ears.
Reaching the trees, you peered between two dark blue trunks. Every muscle in your body was tense, ready to spring away at the first sign of danger.
Instead, you were greeted with the shape of a person. They wore a dark jacket, their hair also dark, but they were facing away from you where they sat.
For a moment you stood frozen. You were divided: should you announce yourself? Maybe they could help you? But for all you knew, they might not feel kindly towards you. What would another person be doing in this strange place?
Before you had the chance to decide, let alone move, the person slumped backwards to lie down, huffing a great sigh as they went.
Your eyes widened. Now you could see their face — and you certainly hadn’t expected this.
“Hoseok?”
Squeezing between the trees, you pushed your way into the small clearing he lay in. On hearing your voice, he twisted towards you with wide eyes.
“Y/N?” he jumped up, eyeing you suspiciously, “what is this place?”
“I have no idea,” you answered honestly. Then, “what are you doing here?”
Echoing your earlier words, he said, “I have no idea.”
After a moment, he seemed to remember something and looked around sharply.
“I found this,” he told you, pointing at the ground some feet away. There lay your sandal from earlier.
“Oh. Thank you.”
You flashed an awkward smile and went to pick it on, sliding it back onto the foot it had lost not long ago. Then your silence resumed.
Briefly, you did nothing but stare at each other. Then you stared again at the bizarre scenery around you.
Hoseok was first to move. Apparently becoming tired of your company so soon, he turned away with hands on his hips and began to pick through the undergrowth, which was thicker here than where you had first landed.
Even if this was all the company you were granted, you were eager to keep it, and so followed him.
A few minutes passed. Eerie silence was all around, save for the tentative brush of your footsteps against plants. He hadn’t complained about your presence, though, so you eventually decided it safe to speak.
“Did you… fall here?” you ventured.
His eyes snapped back to you. With a nod, he confirmed it.
“From the library?”
Slowing down, he allowed you to catch up and walk at his side.
“Yeah, why? You too?”
“That’s what happened to me,” you nodded, “but… what were you doing in the library?”
But Hoseok never heard those last words. A deafening, crunching crash resounded through your quiet conversation, drowning you out.
Both of you reacted quickly, spinning to the source of the monstrous sound in fear. Your hammering heart only sped up as you located a dark shape above the treetops.
“There!” you cried, grabbing onto Hoseok’s sleeve.
He spotted it as you pointed, for it was rapidly growing, soaring towards you.
“What is that?” he yelled, stumbling backwards.
You had nothing to offer in reply, instead watching with wide eyes as the creature flew closer still. Still grasping at Hoseok’s sleeve, you tugged at it, looking around for the nearest cover. He made no move. Struck dumb with awe, he seemed to be rooted to the spot.
Turning back to the sky, you were panicked to see the beast drawing closer. You could make out a long snout protruding from its head, spiny wings beating slowly and yet carrying it swiftly over the land.
The monster was enormous, blocking out a chunk of the open sky.
Not wanting to hesitate any longer, you pulled Hoseok forcefully with you as you retreated under the cover of a thick patch of foliage. He complied, still unable to tear his gaze from the flying creature.
You almost daren’t look, even now you were secluded among shadow. But curiosity overcame you.
It was near enough on top of you now. You held your breath, terror washing over you at the sight of it, close enough now that you could make out scales on the thing’s large belly. They glimmered a blazing red as it moved.
But its pace was fast, and it continued quickly, long tail etching a path through the sky behind it.
“Was that…” you breathed, after you felt enough time had passed to be safe. But your thought was too absurd for you to speak out loud.
However, Hoseok finished it for you.
“A dragon?”
Both of you slowly turned to face each other, matching expressions of perplexed shock painting your faces. You opened and closed your mouth, but no words presented themselves.
Your gaze was only severed by the return of the same cacophony to the air that had first heralded the dragon. Only now, it was louder.
Ducking by reflex, you whipped around. Above the treetops, the dragon was returning.
Still filling the air, the sound was that of treetops rupturing as the scaled beast flew low over them, snapping them like matchsticks. Once again, it seemed like the thing was coming straight towards you.
“Let’s move,” you shouted over the noise.
Hoseok didn’t need telling twice.
Side by side, you raced between trees, feet and clothes catching on leaves and vines that spanned the floor. Plunging on nonetheless, you kept your eyes set determinedly ahead.
By the time your lungs demanded you stop for breath, you were sure you must have gone a considerable distance from where you had first been hiding. But the deafening crashes from above had become no quieter.
Slowing down, you sagged against a tree as you gasped for air. Just in front of you, Hoseok looked around, finding you holding yourself up shakily against the trunk.
With a look to the sky and back at you, his face sank further, eyes wide and afraid.
“Y/N!” he cried.
Lifting your head, you met his eyes. Still panting, you turned to follow a finger he raised as he took trembling steps backwards.
Overhead, the leaves seemed to shake. A shadow was sliding along the forest floor as above it, twigs and branches rained down, bouncing from their lower counterparts until they disappeared into the shrubbery.
The dragon was following you.
“Come on!” Hoseok’s voice reached you somewhere among the din.
Spinning, you found him holding a hand out to you, gesturing maniacally for you to continue. You had barely caught your breath, but forced yourself to push away from the tree and run towards him once more.
What did surprise you was that he waited for you. When you came within reach, his outstretched hand was grabbing you, pulling you along at his side.
But there was no time to think of that. Chest heaving with exertion, you willed your feet to move faster underneath you in an attempt to flee the dragon.
All at once, the tall tree trunks you had been running between, almost dense enough to form a forest, stopped. Realising too late, the two of you shot from the cover at full speed, only to find yourselves utterly exposed.
Skidding to a stop, you looked to Hoseok in panic.
Before you could take another step, shadow fell over you again, but it was not cast by harmless trees. The roar of splintering branches grew to an overwhelming crescendo as the dragon caught sight of you and dived, uncaring for the insignificant wood pushed aside by its bulk.
Beside you, Hoseok screamed hoarsely. Together you fled backwards, knowing there was no hope of outrunning your pursuer.
In a few seconds, the beast had descended, giant nostrils flaring at your eye level. Curved fangs gnashed.
With horror, you saw a glow brighten the deep tunnels atop its snout.
In the corner of your eye, you spotted another rock, rough surface towering from the ground. You barely had time to think before you were shoving Hoseok to the side so you fell together behind the barrier. Not a moment later, blazing orange flared, obscuring all other sights as fire erupted from the monster’s jaws and nostrils.
You gave no thought to the position you had fallen in, your push having left you tumbling directly on top of Hoseok. His scream rang in your ears, only rivalled by the crackling heat in the air as his arms wrapped around you. You too were curling up, hands shielding your head in some attempt to shelter.
Thankfully, the rock you had chosen was one of the larger ones and took the brunt of the blast.
Not that it encouraged you much, considering the persistence the beast had shown so far. The dying away of the heat and fire only brought on dread, gnawing low and incessant in your stomach, of the next blast.
Barely daring to breathe, you stayed still, huddling against Hoseok, who did the same.
Any moment, you expected another massive roar to rip through the air. A swipe of the malicious claws or the sizzling heat of dragon flame. The longer you waited, the harder your heart rioted in your chest.
“Students.”
You jolted violently as a loud voice resonated through the air. But it was not the dragon.
Looking around showed you no one who the voice might belong to.
“It is gone,” the voice said.
Hoseok’s hold around you was loosening. Swallowing, you became aware of your proximity and carefully extracted yourself, not looking him in the eye as you moved to sit next to him instead.
It was true that no indicator of the dragon’s presence had made itself known, but you were not inclined to trust a faceless voice. You crawled to peer around the edge of the rock. Finding the space empty, you emerged further.
The clearing was totally deserted. The only evidence of the recent fearful moments was the debris of burnt leaves and broken branches scattered across the ground.
“Who are you?” Hoseok raised his voice, though it shook a little.
You returned to his side, the voice replying as you sunk down beside him.
“Students,” the voice repeated. It was level and calm, but awfully cold. The word was spoken with disdain. “I doubt you would recognise such a voice as mine. You young humans know not the value of words, of books. I am the librarian.”
You blinked in surprise. Next to you, Hoseok sat forward from the rock you leaned against.
“You are? Can you get us out of here?” he yelled, aiming his voice at the sky for lack of target for his pleas.
“Certainly not. I am the keeper of this land. You see, due to the neglect of your kind, my creatures are only kept alive through written word, and I cannot let them be endangered. Students are all the same. Careless. I do not appreciate those who vandalise or waste the knowledge granted them through books. And so, I cannot let you take another one.”
“It’s just a science textbook,” you muttered.
Meanwhile, Hoseok was growing more desperate.
“We won’t!” he called, “just let us out!”
Ringing silence was all he received in reply.
Eventually, he flopped back against the rock with a huff. Worrying your lip, you turned to him, though you had nothing to propose for what you should do next.
His hair was a dishevelled now, strands falling into his eyes which he now turned to you. To your surprise, his mouth curved back into a smile, breathy laughs bursting from him as he rested his head back on the rock.
He shook his head.
“This is crazy.”
You had to agree.
Turning your despairing eyes away and to the surrounding forest again, you were surprised to see movement among the trees. But this creature was not enormous or fire-breathing. A sandy-coloured tail waved, blurring in the air.
Bounding through the trees and coming to a stop at the forest edge, came a labrador.
Staring in bemusement, you found the dog looking right back at you. It was panting, mouth open in a smiley-looking shape. Its tail continued wagging enthusiastically behind it.
Just as you opened your mouth to tell Hoseok, the dog went rigid, body jerking as it barked across the space.
Sitting up straight, Hoseok spotted the dog as well, and together you watched it.
The dog watched back, standing still as if waiting for something. It reminded you of the way your flatmate’s dog used to wait for you to throw the ball when you played with her.
After another minute of stillness, it barked again, then turned and ran. You jumped to your feet as the yellow tail went wagging away through the shadows.
“What are you-“ Hoseok exclaimed as you started towards the trees, following the dog’s path.
Already tired, your legs lagged behind the dog’s pace and you nearly lost sight of the sandy fur. But you kept your eyes trained on it. This animal did not seem unfriendly, or angry. Something told you that you could trust it.
“Where are you going?”
You hadn’t noticed the pursuing footsteps until Hoseok was grabbing your arm, forcing you to stop. Looking around at him in annoyance, you shrugged him off and turned back around. But you had lost sight of the dog now, finding the forest empty.
Your shoulders slumped.
“I was trying to do something to get us out of here-“
“By getting more lost?”
Hoseok’s eyes blazed with anger and he threw his arms out to punctuate his yell with frustration. Opening your mouth, you returned his outrage.
“We’ve been lost since we got here! We don’t know anything about this place, but we can’t just do nothing!”
“What can we do? You heard what the librarian said.”
His volume had lowered and he took a step back.
Breathing out, you did the same, noticing only now how you had crowded each other’s space in your anger. Swallowing down your own frustration, you levelled your gaze at him. His words spoke of despair.
Sighing, you pushed a hand through your hair.
“There’s no use in fighting,” you muttered, “and I’m scared too. But we have to try.”
Lifting his eyes to you, Hoseok felt then as if he was seeing you for the first time.
You shared his fear, and had spoken that out loud, but still the steely glint never left your eyes. Rather than run or hide, you stood tall, resolved to find a way out, no matter how hopeless this crazy turn of events seemed.
“Hoseok?” you called, rendered hesitant by his silence.
Giving his head a quick shake, he averted his gaze from you.
“Hobi,” he spoke.
You frowned.
“I’m sorry?”
“Call me Hobi,” he repeated, “if we’re stuck here forever, I won’t be able to stand it if you call me Hoseok all the time.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Taking that to be some odd form of agreement, you turned around and started to pick your way again through the forest, no matter how blindly. The only vague thing guiding you was the notion that the dog had left this way, but that certainty grew weaker with time.
The only thing bolstering you were the steady steps of Hobi right beside you. A reminder you weren’t alone here.
“Sorry for losing your textbook.”
Smile quirking your lips, you turned to Hobi. He was steadfastly ignoring your gaze, kicking his feet through the low undergrowth while his hands were buried in his pockets.
“If you hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be here now,” you hummed.
That caught his attention.
“Hey! At least I’m apologising!”
“Doesn’t fix the fact we’re lost in… well, wherever this is,” you chuckled, “though I’m sure it’s worked out well for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I hadn’t come here to replace my textbook, you would be here all alone.”
Hoseok simply tilted his head in vague answer.
After a few short moments of quiet, you resumed the conversation.
“So, what were you in the library for?”
He let silence stretch out for longer than you expected, and you slowed your steps to look at him. His eyes were wide, and when he spoke, it was with a nervous smile, as if he wasn’t sure he should be smiling.
But he was too quiet, and all you heard was something that sounded like ‘yuzbook’.
“Sorry?” you frowned.
With a long-suffering sigh, he finally spoke up.
“I was looking for your science book as well.”
Your eyebrows shot upwards.
“You were?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you had decided it was my responsibility? Even though you lost it.”
“Exactly, I had lost it. I felt bad.”
“Ha!” you exclaimed, jumping around to dance in front of him, “Jung Hoseok admits remorse! What is the world coming to?!”
“I told you to call me Hobi,” he grumbled.
A smile was still bursting at your lips, but you calmed down and returned smugly to his side.
“My bad. Hobi wanted to do something nice! For me, of all people! Maybe this really is a dream…”
“You dream about me?” he grinned, teasing right back.
“Eugh, of course not,” you scoffed.
His laughter filled the forest, and you were glad of it. At length, it faded and you walked on.
“But, turns out you were right to be scared of the library,” he admitted quietly.
Simply nodding, you kept going. By now you had lost all hope to have remained on course with the dog you had seen earlier, but there was little use dwelling on that.
Most of the way, you had been trekking through forest, but now the trees were thinning. Once again, they began to be clustered in patches near protruding rocks.
Coming between two waist-height boulders, you found a pond lying cradled by short grasses and more rose plants.
Agreeing on a break, you and Hobi slumped down at its bank, though you also agreed not to drink it. Hobi seemed much more distrustful of everything you came across in this curious land than you, but there was no harm in caution, you supposed. It was true that, on getting closer to the water, it appeared to glimmer silver.
What that meant, you didn’t know, but didn’t care to investigate.
Reclining on the ground, you breathed deeply. The pond was in a large clearing, similar to the first place you had crash landed in. You couldn’t escape some dread that all this time had brought you in a mere circle to the beginning, but there was no way to be certain.
Forest lined one side of the oasis, while the other stretched away, obscured behind that rocky landscape dotted with an array of foliage.
As you scanned the area idly, a familiar blur of motion had you sitting up with a yelp.
“There! Did you see that!” you cried, but began running without waiting for a reply.
Twisting to attention, Hobi clumsily took to his feet after you.
“You sure?” he called after you.
You kept running. You had seen it – it had been right here. You were certain it was trying to lead you somewhere, and you felt compelled to follow it.
Plunging between rocks, Hobi’s slower steps faded behind you. Uncaring, you continued, eyes alert for any sign of your goal.
And there it was: another brief glimmer from just beyond the next clump of plants. You were so close. This time, you were going to reach it. It would get you out of here.
Still running, you didn’t care that the way wound deeper through the terrain, nor that the world around you darkened as you went. No, your mind was set. You kept moving.
When you finally reached what seemed to be the midst of the darkness, it never occurred to you that this was never what you had been looking for. All you were filled with was delight; in the middle of the dark clearing stood a grove of roses. They were taller than the roses you had seen so far, growing thickly and close together.
In the blackness, the petals emitted a soft glow that shone through their delicate veins.
A smile curved your lips. But as you took a slow step towards the luminescence, something emerged from behind them. It became clear that the roses themselves were not glowing, but the creature. A unicorn.
White coat shimmering with its every move, it seemed to glide over the landscape. The slender horn protruding from its head appeared crafted by the finest silversmith, with hints of colours dancing along it even in darkness.
All breath was stolen from you. Your startled exhale left a cloud lingering in the air beside your lips which glittered as the majestic animal walked in front of you.
Either it didn’t see you, or didn’t mind your presence, because it proceeded perfectly calmly. Keeping your eyes fixed on it, your feet stumbled after the serene creature without you willing them to.
You barely blinked as you followed the graceful unicorn, desperate to keep your eyes on it. You couldn’t have torn them away if you wanted to. Just watching the animal had all your tension melting away: legs feeling heavy, mind fogging. All your worries dissipated as easily as smoke in the wind.
The world was silent. It was as if your ears were plugged as you reached out, somehow confident enough to touch the noble beast.
Another step closer.
Your fingers stretched out, ready to meet the sleek, glowing coat-
“Y/N!”
A blow knocked you sideways, a weight falling with you as the shout of your name rung loudly in your ears. For a split second, you winced, expecting to be crushed on the ground, but already a hand shielded your head. Instead, you landed on a body, held securely in the person’s arms.
Gasping, you found yourself breathless. Your gaze had been severed on being tackled, and now that you blinked, dark clouds seemed to lift from your vision.
Looking around wildly, you were slow to come to your senses, but the person was already shifting.
“We need to move.”
That voice was familiar. Looking around, you found Hoseok’s eyes trained on you as he struggled to stand with your weight against him.
Clumsily getting your feet underneath you, your mouth opened, but a shriek filled the air before you could speak.
Clapping your hands over your ears, you winced at the piercing wail splitting the air.
Hoseok, however, wasted no time. He grasped your wrist, pulling you stumbling across the clearing behind him as he sprinted away.
Wide-eyed and breathless, you twisted to look behind you. The unicorn was still there, but it wasn’t glowing, just plain white. But your eyes only caught it for a second, before a darker shape was swooping from the sky.
Feet pounding, you fled the shrieking beast as it descended in a rush of feathers.
Glinting talons flashed, inches in front of your face as the bird-like shriek reached its peak.
And then you were plunged into shadow, squeezed between leaves and petals.
Hoseok slowed, dropping your hand, but you were practically frozen. You staggered backwards, eyes trained on the spot those razor sharp claws had been.
Above you, the shrill cry was quieting, echoing around the land as your attacker circled higher once more.
“What… what was that?” you panted.
“That was close,” Hoseok responded, no humour in his voice. “I was calling to you! Why didn’t you move?”
“You were?” you frowned, “I-I didn’t hear. I don’t know what happened.”
Light frown creasing his brow, Hobi looked seriously down at you. Swallowing, he looked you over. Your heart still trembled, trying to take in what had just happened, and you looked up at him fearfully. Was he angry?
Fixing his eyes on your own, Hobi stepped forward, bending to draw your faces closer together. Holding your breath, you stiffened, heart rate rocketing as his breath fell warm over your cheeks.
Then he reached his hand out. You forced yourself to hold his gaze, not sure why your face was growing hotter under his scrutiny.
His fingers met your hair. They pulled gently at a strand.
“You had this in your hair.”
Blinking, you found him holding a rose petal up, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips.
“Right. Thank you,” you spoke awkwardly, snatching it from his hand.
“Let’s stay here for a bit,” he said then, turning around as if nothing had happened. However, you didn’t complain. You didn’t want him to see your burning cheeks.
Hobi had pulled you into the grove of roses you had seen earlier, which grew some way above your heads. The bushes were close together, providing the perfect cover. You heard no more of the shrieking monster as you walked after him through the plants.
Beautiful flower heads were nestled everywhere, the graceful bundles of petals peering at these strangers walking through their home.
Eventually, Hobi came to a halt. When you stopped at his side, he pushed aside some leaves to show you what lay beyond.
You had reached the other side of the grove and a new clearing lay before you. Unlike the other places you had been, there were no tall trees or wide rocks rising from the ground. At last it was flat.
But, most noticeably, in the middle of the clearing there was a building. Deep blue walls rose from a gold base, thin pillars winding upwards to support the corners of the many-sided roof. Small arched windows were set high up in the walls, through which you could see a silvery glow from inside.
Hobi looked around the space before emerging. No longer impatient, you wholly agreed with his caution and also peered out carefully.
As you remained mostly hidden by the roses, something came running around the house.
The dog.
Same as before, it stood looking at you, smiling mouth and wagging tail welcoming.
First, you looked to Hobi.
“What do you think?”
“You were right,” he replied, “the dog seems alright. We should give it a shot.”
Smiling, you felt assured now you were in agreement. Not stopping to think too much about the action, you placed your hand resolutely in Hobi’s and stepped forwards.
This time the dog did not begin running away, waiting for you by the blue house wall instead. As the two of you drew closer, you bent a little, holding your hand out to the creature.
“Hi!” you cooed, ignoring Hobi’s light scoff from beside you.
The dog poised as if it would bark back, but instead it looked towards the house. Following its gaze, you looked through the window and instantly fell silent.
Inside, a figure was sitting, though you could only see their head and shoulders – and a pair of wings. They fluttered lazily, glinting in the silvery light.
“The librarian,” Hobi murmured.
Nodding, you looked back to the dog.
“Will you help us?” you whispered.
Its tail wagged harder.
Smiling, you reached out to give it a gentle pat, ruffling the soft fur between its ears.
Satisfied, the sandy blond animal turned around, tail blurring all the while. It trotted away, leading you around the house. On passing the windows, you both ducked, fearing what the faerie would do if they discovered you here.
A short dash, looking over your shoulders, and you finally reached a thick row of trees. Squeezing behind the large trunks, you were surprised to see large wooden doors waiting for you.
If not for the lingering worry of the librarian somewhere nearby, you would have laughed out loud.
Hobi rushed forwards, grasping the dogs ears and ruffling them enthusiastically.
“You got us out!” he whispered happily.
You were amused to see the dog’s smiling mouth grow wider, tongue hanging out with his praise.
Jumping up with a brilliant grin, Hobi walked to the door. Waiting by the handle, he let you also say goodbye to your four-legged saviour.
“Thank you,” you told it with a loving pat. For a moment, you looked into the dog’s eyes, wishing you could somehow convey your gratitude.
Then a thought came over you. Tilting your head, you frowned slightly.
“Cindy?”
The dog’s tail whirred back into motion, hopping up and down a little at the name.
Breaking into a smile, you patted it affectionately.
“Good girl, Cindy,” you grinned, “thank you.”
Then you stood to join Hobi’s side. He lifted the great handle, which made a concerning thunk in the quiet.
Hurriedly slipping through, you fell against the other side of the wood as he followed and shut it firmly behind him. You were back at the entrance of the library, the glass doors at the front of the foyer showing the road beyond it, no different than ever as cars and pedestrians hurried along.
“Who let someone like that work in a school?” you laughed, incredulous.
Hobi laughed loudly at last, the sound bringing a bigger grin to your face.
You had made it out.
All of a sudden, a pinging sound rang from your pocket, soon over taken by at least five more.
Pulling out your phone, you found it alive again, the screen lit up and full of messages.
“Yoongi’s wondering where I am,” you muttered, “my shift…”
Hobi pushed away from the wooden door, starting to walk with you across the entrance hall. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he nodded.
“Yeah, um, I should get going too, I guess.”
Opening the main doors, you stood outside on the steps, at a loss. A bus rumbled past.
“Okay,” you spoke at length, “yeah. Er, see you around.”
Smiling briefly, Hobi took a few hesitant steps back before he committed to walking away. One last wave and he was engulfed by the crowd on the street.
You sighed and set off in the opposite direction.
Tumblr media
The bell clinked, swinging wildly above the door as you hurried over to the counter.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you spoke as you set your stuff down.
Turning to lean against the counter, Yoongi shrugged.
“’s’alright. Where were you though?”
“Ah…”
What were you meant to say? Your head was still spinning from everything that had passed, but you knew no one would believe you if you told them the truth. Shifting a little, your teeth nipped at your lower lip while you tried to come up with a reasonable excuse.
Meanwhile, a knowing look was sliding onto Yoongi’s face.
“I see,” he grinned, and then, to your mortification, winked!
“No, you don’t- that’s not-“ you protested, but he was already snickering and turning back to the washing up.
Shaking your head, you concluded that whatever his belief was would make as good as excuse as any. At least he had made it up for you, saving the hassle.
You got to work.
Tumblr media
Over the next couple of days, everything ran like normal. Except for you, nothing was normal.
You still had no idea how such a small amount of time had passed while you and Hobi were busy running for your lives in fear of the librarian and their crazed world. You had barely been late for your shift afterwards; when it was time for bed you had collapsed straight in, feeling as if you had been awake for two days straight.
Of course, you had never gone back for that textbook.
In college the next day, you had taken a detour to class, stubbornly avoiding the building that had all but kidnapped you, wondering at the fact no one else seemed to realise.
At the café later on, you waited impatiently for any sign of Hobi outside. He was the one person you desperately wanted to see. Surely he must be feeling the same? He would understand.
But you waited and waited, serving countless other customers without much thought. He never came, and so you were left to question your own sanity by yourself.
Nothing about your impromptu adventure made sense.
If it had been real, why didn’t Hobi act like anything had changed? You certainly couldn’t pretend that nothing had been altered between you while you had been trapped in that strange world inside the library.
Perhaps it had been a dream. All of it seemed so implausible that even recollecting it sent you spiralling with more questions.
But there was one hope. Even if Hobi remembered nothing of what transpired, you were still supposed to tutor him. You would see him next week, and try to assess what he might remember.
So when your phone buzzed that night, screen lighting up with a message from him at last, you had expected to arrange this week’s session. But all it said was: come outside.
Though you frowned, you weren’t going to pass up this chance.
Sliding off your bed, you quickly stuffed your feet into your slippers and tried your best not to break into a run on the way to the door. Collecting yourself first with a deep breath, you pulled it open.
The first thing you took in was empty space outside your door. Blinking at it, you couldn’t prevent the disappointment from creeping in. But then your eyes flickered downwards.
There at your feet lay a rose.
Your lips parted in wonder as you stooped to pick it up. Taking it between your fingers, you rolled it gently there. It was the exact same as those delicate flowers that had filled the grove where you sheltered together in the library.
A smile tugged at your mouth. It only grew as you remembered the identical petal Hobi had pulled from your hair.
He remembered.
The relief that washed over you was dizzying. Clutching the flower to your chest, you smiled out of your doorway once more, silently thanking Hobi.
But you wouldn’t have to be silent for long. Your eyes landed on a figure leaning against a lamppost a few metres away, smiling right back at you.
As your eyes met, Hobi stood straighter. His mouth shifted to a radiant grin. He had come back to you.
Tumblr media
Thank you so much for reading!! And again, send lots of birthday love over to @moccahobi​!! As promised, here is the beautiful bingo card I used for this story:
Tumblr media
taglist: @aianloveseven​ @preciouschimine​ @un2-verse​ @ddaechwita​ @taegularities​ 
187 notes · View notes
makeste · 3 years
Text
BnHA Chapter 318: On Your Left
Previously on BnHA: The Hawksquad+Lurkers were all “well this sucks” and sat around a bit talking about how maybe they should actually come up with a new plan that is actually good, but then in the end they were like “nah.” Deku was all, “THERE’S SOMETHING INSIDE ME THAT PULLS BENEATH THE SURFACE!! CONSUMING, CONFUSING!! THIS LACK OF SELF CONTROL I FEAR IS NEVERENDING. IT’S HAUNTING HOW I CANT SEEM TO FIND MYSELF AGAIN. MY WALLS ARE CLOSING IN.” Just, literally that whole entire song. All Might was all “Deku you should take care of yourself, try eating a thing,” and Deku was all “BYE, ALL MIGHT,” and just LEFT. He left!!! What the fuck!!!
Today on BnHA: Endeavor is all, “maybe if Deku didn’t listen to All Might he’ll listen to me instead.” Deku is all, “[doesn’t listen to Endeavor]” because, well, yeah. The Vestiges are all, “surprisingly, even we are a little concerned -- maybe you should get some rest, kid.” Deku is all, “((Ò ‸ Ó)).” The Vestiges are all, “holy shit.” Deku is all, “[wanders the ruined city streets terrifying the populace on account of him looking like Shelob had a baby with one of the Nazgul].” Some shriveled-up puppeteer villain asshole is all, “HORIKOSHI SAID IT’S MY TURN TO ATTACK DEKU TODAY SO I AM GOING TO SUMMON MY FRIGHTENED HELPLESS ATTACK MOB!!” Kacchan is all “WHADDYA MEAN THEY FOUND THE NERD!!! -- oh wait, that’s me, I found him. I found the nerd, you guys.” And just in time, too. I was about to owe a whole lot of people a whole lot of dollars.
so I have been super good about spoilers this week as always, but let me tell you guys, for the past 36 hours my dash filters have basically been nonstop “manga spoilers” this and “bnha 318” that, and so I’m coming in with a fair amount of hype here. your move, Horikoshi
oh, good! they got Endeavor to call Deku to try to talk him out of it. what a great and wonderful plan
Tumblr media
“listen up kid, you haven’t slept since March and you are basically a walking biohazard right now, I’m just telling it like it is. didn’t you get shot like three times?? and there was a whole thing about how you urgently needed medical attention?? and supposedly we gave it to you, but I mean you haven’t even changed your clothes and don’t seem to have any fresh bandages or anything, so did we?? did we, really?? and also we all got blown up yesterday, so yeah.” hmm he’s making some reasonable points here you guys, but you sure do go on and on, Endeavor
oh he says foreign aid is finally on its way! I’m sure they’ll be very helpful. I mean in fairness they can hardly be worse than the home-grown heroes at this point
hey Enji, could you maybe try appealing to Deku the sixteen-year-old human boy, as opposed to Deku The World’s Last Hope? he does have value beyond his quirk. I know that’s always been an incredibly difficult concept for you to grasp, but could you maybe TRY, jesus
Tumblr media
and also we’re worried about you as a person?? you’re just a kid and you’re pushing yourself way too hard?? you were going to say that part next, right. why the hell didn’t Hawks make this call instead
“don’t worry about me... I’m completely fine” Deku you do understand that saying it over and over again doesn’t actually make it true
and again with the rush!! all the rush rush rush!! we’re running out of time, we can’t let AFO and Tomura keep getting stronger, I have to end this now, there’s no time to rest, etc. etc. etc. just the constant pressure of this whole big countdown on top of everything else
holy shit, you KNOW it’s bad when even the Vestiges are telling him to chill
Tumblr media
these guys are basically the walking talking embodiments of self-sacrifice; if even they’re telling him he needs to take five, then he must seriously be like half a step away from death’s door
OH SHIT LMAO
Tumblr media
DIDN’T EVEN LET HIM FINISH HIS SENTENCE BEFORE HE SENT HIM INTO THE FUCKING SHADOW REALM WITH THAT FUCKING LOOK. HOLY FUCK. DIDN’T EVEN KNOW IT WAS POSSIBLE TO DIE TWICE. SHIT
(ETA: so I’m pretty sure this was just Danger Sense activating and so he cut them off to go do more hero stuff, but I’m gonna go ahead and stick to my original interpretation anyway lol.)
anyway so how’s everybody doing. we all good? En, you good? Banjou? Shino? I’m imagining you guys all curled up in a little ball on the floor right now lol. can’t say I blame you though, no shame
lmaoooooooooooo
Tumblr media
“SHEESH.” sheesh indeed, lmao. “what in the FUCK was that”
see, this is why y’all need Kacchan. you need someone who’s not going to back down from him no matter what. if it’s a matter of out-stubborning Midoriya fucking Izuku, then there’s only one other person on the planet capable of that, and we all know it. don’t pretend like you don’t. I am not going to shut up about this! we’ve had our hurt so now what about SOME COMFORT, DAMMIT
“I’m afraid that he’s becoming influenced by my conscience” nah are you kidding Nana this is all 100% made-in-Japan pure original Deku right here
see, Banjou gets it. “that kid, he’s totally going on his own.” exactly. this was so inevitable it was basically scientific law
“well I for one don’t see the problem with Deku being so obsessed with saving everyone else that he pushes himself until his body and soul literally fall apart” okay, whose speech bubbles are these?? we’re about to have words
lol of course
Tumblr media
well you always did prefer the direct route didn’t you. but even you can’t possibly think this is okay lol
Tumblr media
dark AU!Kacchan please tell us more about your badass doomed timeline in which everything went to shit and you apparently had the same character arc that Deku is having right now except it somehow made you sexier instead of turning you into a rabid t-rex. I have so many questions
oh so now you want to help??? well -- good, actually. sorry if that sounded offended just now lol
Tumblr media
(ETA: so at first when I got to the end of this chapter I was wondering if Katsuki B. had somehow summoned his alternate-universe counterpart through trippy OFA space telepathy lol. but in the original Japanese there’s no reference to “we”, so this appears to be a mistranslation. this line should probably read more like “if there’s something/someone out there that would be able to complement/complete the current Midoriya Izuku [it would be]…” which, oh hello, is that Horikoshi once again reaffirming that Deku and Bakugou complete each other lol. “guess what guys, the Vestiges ship it too" heck yeah. they know what’s up!)
look how admiring his boyfriends are. HORIKOSHI GIVE US THE REST OF THIS BACKSTORY ALREADY GODDAMMIT
“meanwhile somewhere in the depths of the ruined city, Deku was having a dance-off with the villains”
Tumblr media
I like how the villains all have this “AHH WHAT THE FUCK” kind of body language to them lol. I mean if it were me, and an eldritch horror suddenly clawed its way from the shadows with its writhing glowy tentacles and pants-shitting nuclear death stare, I would probably just die on the spot. no need to stick around. only pain awaits
lol for a minute I thought this was Can’t Ya See-kun and I was like “WHAT A FASCINATING CROSSING OF PATHS” but it’s just some random girl
Tumblr media
he seems genuinely confused lol
Tumblr media
Deku it’s because you look like something that crawled out of a sewer drain, sweetheart
lol they just took his word for it?
Tumblr media
so trusting. even though they’re immediately hauling ass anyway just to be safe lmao
“my appearance is frightening to others” no shit Deku it’s because you look like a fucking alien exorcism. you look like a Lich that got caught up in an oil spill my dude
NO NOT THE CHOSEN ONE ANGST AGAIN
Tumblr media
I RAN OUT OF ESSAY JUICE FOR THIS ALREADY HORIKOSHI!! I’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT IT FOR MONTHS NOW WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG!! BUT ANYWAYS, GOOD!! I MEAN, BAD, THOUGH, OBVIOUSLY. BUT YES
“ENJOY THIS MONTAGE OF DEKU BATTLING A RANDOM KAIJU AND WANDERING THE WOODS LIKE A DERANGED GREEN BABA YAGA” okay yes but sir, exactly how much longer is this going to go on. if it’s a matter of you wanting to make sure we get it, let me assure you that aside from a few stray chuunis who think that Deku embracing the Darkness is the coolest thing he’s ever done, all of us here in fandom fully comprehend that this is Not Good
-- OH SO IT’S LIKE THAT
Tumblr media
really. with the flashbacks to his loved ones’ smiling faces and everything. not even gonna try to aim above the belt, huh
AND NO KACCHAN??! NO CLASSMATES?!?! IS HE PURPOSELY NOT THINKING OF THEM??? OR ARE THEY BEING SAVED FOR THE NEXT PAGE??? SO HELP ME, IF THE NEXT PART OF THIS SENTENCE IS “CAN PROTECT THEM”, OR EVEN WORSE, “CAN SEE THEIR SMILING FACES AGAIN”, I...
WHAT DID I JUST SAY
Tumblr media
(ETA: my man did Sero and Kaminari fucking dirty lmao. I miss their smiling faces too omg.)
the sheer, unparalleled irony of him saying this while he stands there looking like the gargoyle demon from Fantasia got crossed with an umbrella that got struck by lightning. Deku :(
oi who the fuck is this clown
Tumblr media
is he controlling this mob with his evil hair. “what if I made an exhausted, running-on-fumes Deku battle a brainwashed mob at Ground Zero.” Horikoshi do you just have like a checklist of horrible things you want to do to your protagonist
easy there Sasori
Tumblr media
well joke’s on you buddy because he’s apparently “completely fine”, so
“here’s to hoping that you know more about AFO’s location than the others” jesus christ Deku you really have hung your mercy out to dry huh
now he’s forcing his mob of terrified prisoners to attack Deku ahhhh. sucks to be them. at least they’re not being controlled by bees
so Deku is saying that Sasori’s control can be broken with “physical trauma.” similar to Shinsou’s quirk I guess. but so does that mean he’s gonna have to hurt them? ( •﹏•)
NO NOT MORE SAD EYES
Tumblr media
“DEATH BY EMPATHY!!!” HORIKOSHI NO
fuck. he looks like he’s on the verge of passing out
Tumblr media
this is what happens when you nerf a character’s self-preservation stats in favor of spamming their bone-breaking stats instead. NOW ACCEPTING BRAIN CELL DONATIONS FOR A BOY IN NEED!! with your loving generosity we can hopefully help him live to the ripe old age of seventeen
OMGFGGG
YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Tumblr media
[grabs your hands] ლ(*꒪ヮ꒪*)ლ [swings you in a circle] へ(゚◇゚へ)
THASSSSSSSS WHATSSSSSSS UPPPPPPPPPP
HORIKOSHI REALLY SAID FUCK THAT MASK (ノ°ο°)ノ YOU FINALLY LEARNED!! IT’S CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!!!
JUST FOR YOU KACCHAN, HORIKOSHI LEFT THIS ONE BAD GUY WHO’S STILL WEAK TO FIRE. GOD BLESS
IT’S YOUR COUNTERPART, KATSUKI B!!!! HOW WE DOIN OVER THERE IN THE TRIPPY COSMIC OFA SPACE REALM LOL. DO WE BELIEVE YET, FANDOM???
LIGHTS!!!!
Tumblr media
INSTANT RESULTS!!! IT’S SUPER EFFECTIVE!!!
(ETA: imagine what this must look like to Deku though. he’s been caught up in this dark cloud of despair and exhaustion that’s been building up over... I’m gonna go ahead and say “weeks”, because yeah. and now he finds himself here, in the place where All Might’s legacy ended and the torch was passed to him. and the world is in ruins, and he’s surrounded by frightened people who are all trying to hurt him -- because who isn’t trying to hurt him, these days -- and he’s scrambling to figure this all out, but meanwhile the weariness is finally starting to catch up to him, and so he’s basically just standing there in a fog of complete and utter misery.
and then all of a sudden through that haze, he hears the one voice that’s more familiar than any other that he knows. like, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he was just imagining it at first. Kacchan showing up to save him right when he’s at his most desperate and feeling the most alone. Kacchan, showing up to save him.
this is the person he always looked up to as a child (to be fair he was quite a strange child lmao). the person who was even closer to him than All Might. the person he always thought was amazing. and bam, here he is now. appearing in the sky out of nowhere to one-shot the bad guy with a single blast (which, btw, that was his armor-piercing attack too lmao dslkjlk take it easy there kiddo). like, that must have felt absolutely surreal to him, especially coming at a time when he’s already half-delirious and barely hanging on to reality. he must have really thought that he was losing it there for a second.
but he’s really there. it really is him. and for this brief moment -- before the rest of the situation catches up to him, and he remembers about all of the fucked-up AFO stuff, and remembers why he was so afraid and why he was pushing everyone away -- for just this one brief moment, he’s too exhausted and stunned to do anything except to just react. just stands there, looking up at him in awe.
and you know, it almost reminds me of...
Tumblr media
just. you guys. the character development. the freaking character development. someone who brings reassurance. someone who shows up and makes you think, “oh, it’s all going to be okay now, because [person] is here.” the role reversals. the growth. the payoff!! because who is the one person who always had faith that Kacchan would one day grow up to become an amazing hero like that. WHO IS IT. YOU ALREADY KNOW.
omg. anyways, bless you Horikoshi, my feels which have been on backorder since fucking September have finally arrived lmao. yes, good, thank you. worth the wait. it is always, always worth the wait. fuck yeah.)
“LOWFRIES” SO YOU’RE TELLING ME THE WHOLE GANG IS HERE, AHHHHHHHH (º̩̩́⌣º̩̩̀ )
BEAUTIFUL. WONDERFUL. SENSATIONAL. I DON’T EVEN CARE THAT JUMP IS ON BREAK NEXT WEEK. THIS RIGHT HERE WILL SUSTAIN ME
392 notes · View notes
mercy-burning · 3 years
Text
Losing You Twice / 1: If I Hated You
Tumblr media
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, and it turns out Y/N isn’t the only one struggling with the breakup. Category: Smut (18+), Angst Content Warnings: Language, drinking/getting drunk, penetrative/unprotected sex (If I missed anything, please let me know!) Word Count: 5,538
SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST
“My bedtime is the darkest, that’s when I’m brokenhearted. The nighttime is the hardest. It’d be easy, if I hated you.” —FLETCHER, If I Hated You
FEBRUARY 13th
It was Valentine's Day weekend, which sucked this time around. Every year for the past three years Y/N looked forward to Valentine's Day, but that was when she actually had someone to spend it with.
Well, someone she actually cared about, anyway... Whether or not Spencer actually knew it, she did really care about him. She was just stupid and didn't say it when he needed to hear it the most.
And now Valentine's Day was on Saturday and Y/N was still without him. Not alone, but still without the man who'd spent the significant holiday with her for the past three years. Memories of their dates and 'afterparties' flooded through her mind as she got ready for work like a montage, a cheesy love-song playlist she'd found on Spotify acting as the soundtrack.
Eventually she sighed and turned it off, opting for something more loud and obnoxious, and therefore not tainted by Spencer's memory. She applied what was left of her makeup and added a pair of earrings before turning the music off altogether and shoving her phone in her bag alongside her keys and other necessities.
Even though she wasn't emotionally prepared for all the cheesy Valentine's things she'd see and hear and experience throughout the weekend, it was still kind of nice to see that things in the bank never changed during the holidays— Everything in her life was so severely different at the moment, that if Marjorie had somehow decided to throw out all her elaborate decorations for each holiday, no matter how small, Y/N would have thought the world was truly ending.
Speaking of, she was met with Marjorie's brighter-than-the-sun smile almost immediately once she set her things in the breakroom.
"How's my little macaron this morning?" she chirped, Y/N chuckling slightly at the nickname— She brought macarons from the bakery down the street on her first birthday she spent at the bank, and ever since then, the older woman had adorned her with the namesake.
"She's alright, Marj... Better now that she's seen you..."
"That boy still on your mind, hon?"
Obviously Marjorie's intentions were good, but Y/N couldn't stand to think about the situation at all, least of all at work... So, setting her jacket on the rack, turned away so that her coworker wouldn't see the visible discomfort on her face, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and cleared her throat. "So, what are your plans with Geno tomorrow night? Anything special?"
There was a brief pause before Marjorie cleared her throat as well. "Nothing short of our usual dinner plans, my dear. He's been so caught up with work at the Mill lately, I think we're just going to spend the night relaxing."
"Hm," Y/N said shortly, finally turning around and giving her the best smile she could. "Maybe I should take a page from your book and stay in..."
"You weren't going to?"
"No... Britt's been nagging me about getting out there so we're going out tomorrow night. We both haven't been single in a long time, so... Should be fun."
Marjorie didn't look convinced. Either way, she nodded with a smile and walked over to Y/N with something glittery and bright red in her hand— A cheap beaded necklace to clip her nametag onto. She draped it over Y/N's neck and patted her shoulders. "Well, I want you to have fun. And remember that you still have to come to work on Monday. Whatever shenanigans you get into should be reserved for Saturday night only so you can rest properly on Sunday, got it?"
Y/N laughed, thankful for the playful tone in Marjorie's voice. "Yes, Ma'am."
"Oh, I joke, I joke," the older woman said with a bright laugh, turning to walk out of the break room. "A little..."
The smile on Y/N's face only really lasted until after Marjorie was out of sight, then she went into her bag and clipped her nametag onto the red beaded necklace with a sigh.
Was she excited to have a good night out with Britt? Of course. Hell, had it been literally any other day of the year, she would have been practically bouncing off the walls with excitement at the idea of going out to a bar, letting men hit on her until she finally let one of them take her back to his place for the night.
But it just felt like it was too soon.
Either way, she was glad that she'd get to see Britt again, after she'd been on vacation for Christmas and New Year's to see her family and only got back a few weeks ago. She'd seen her on Facetime of course, and they met up once for coffee right after Britt got back from her trip, but a well-needed night out and quality time getting ready together was something that had been missing from their friendship for almost a year.
Y/N knew Britt would most likely spend her time trying to hook them up with end-of-the-night dates, but maybe it wouldn't be so bad...
Even still, sleeping alone the night before was probably one of the worst spells of loneliness she'd ever had. It was normal to be sad spending the first Valentine's Day in years away from a significant other, but knowing how things ended between them—bitter and stained with words left unsaid—this time was just... cold.
And that was putting it lightly.
Y/N laid in bed that night, her eyes wide open and staring at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that adorned the ceiling. They used to give her comfort, but now they just reminded her of all the nights she'd spend with Spencer, listening to him tell stories about the constellations. They were some of the most peaceful memories she had.
And now those, too—those stars that had grounded her pretty much all her life and reminded her of the better days—were tainted by her inability to properly communicate.
She almost thought about taking them down.
But if she was really going to get over him this time, for good, then she'd have to learn to make new memories with the stars. Even if it was painful. Even if replacing those memories and writing new ones over them absolutely tore her soul to pieces.
And, as if that pain wasn't enough, that night Y/N dreamt of him, making love to her amongst the stars in every galaxy, only to wake up the next morning cold and alone.
FEBRUARY 14th
She promptly decided that she hated his guts.
It was Valentine's Day, Y/N was respectfully buzzed, and courtesy of two beers and four shots of tequila, she'd just deleted Spencer's number from her phone.
"I'm done," she said, waving a hand at Britt and shoving her phone in her purse. "He doesn't deserve my wallowing."
"Yeah!"
Britt was significantly the more drunk of the two, resulting in a fit of giggles after gaining some stares from the people around them at her sudden outburst.
Y/N smiled, finishing off another shot and shaking her head. "We need more!"
"More shots!" Britt hurried off to grab them, leaving her friend behind with a half-drunken smile that also only felt half-genuine.
Sure, she decided she hated Spencer's guts, but her heart didn't exactly agree well with that sentiment. Even after deleting his number from her phone, after downing all that alcohol, her heart still ached.
Y/N knew deep down that getting over him was going to take some time. A lot of time... But maybe one night of distraction would help.
So the shots kept coming, and by the end of the night, Y/N was just about at her limit.
Which was near black-out drunk. And when you're that drunk you tend to make decisions you wouldn't soberly condone.
Britt got into a cab, and she begged Y/N to come with her, but she assured her friend that she had someone to come pick her up. Eventually the cab driver got tired of their inability to decide, and when Y/N told him to go, he did, leaving her alone on the side of the street at 1am.
Unfortunately, it was incredibly cold, and she didn't really have anyone to come pick her up. And that's where the bad decisions started.
Y/N pulled her phone out, a long sigh escaping her as she dialed the number by heart.
Would he even pick up? He hadn't answered any of her calls or texts before, so why would it have been any different now? Not to mention it was Valentine's Day Weekend. With her luck, he was probably in bed with someone else. Someone who wasn't her. As she listened to the dial tone repeating in her ear, images of him wrapped up with somebody else—sleeping in the bed she'd slept in many times before—clouded her drunken brain and made her more angry than anything.
Her gut twisted, and she almost hung up.
But then the low buzz of the dial tone abruptly stopped and in its place came his voice.
"Y/N?"
Her name on his lips, even through the phone, was grounding, the anger in her system melting away and revealing a coat of drunken relief.
"Spencer! You answered!"
"Yeah... Are you— Is everything okay?"
"Pff, yeah, 'm-fine. Just really fucking cold."
"You're not outside, are you?"
"Duh, I'm outside... I wouldn't be cold in-side... Besides, I didn't call t'alk bout the weather, I need you t'come pick me up."
There was a brief pause, and for a moment Y/N didn't think he was going to say anything she wanted to hear. She swayed on the sidewalk, shivering and praying that he would throw her a bone, even if she'd regret it all in the morning.
"Where are you?" he said finally, and despite herself, she smiled.
FEBRUARY 15th
Spencer couldn't believe he was picking her up at near two in the morning.
Honestly, he'd initially thought about ignoring her call again, but remembering the day it was and taking note of the time, he figured she was most likely in some type of inebriated trouble.
His instincts were right, of course, but he wished that he could have been wrong. He wished she'd only been calling to drunkenly ramble on about how she missed him or maybe how he was stupid and she never wanted to see his face ever again, because that was normal. At least then he could have hung up after she was done and never thought about it again— it was a normal step in any relationship that helped move things along. They could have gotten on with their lives and it would have all been over.
But of course it was never that simple.
Y/N was never that simple.
He pictured her on the street near some bar, alone and cold and drunk, and of course he would have been the only one she could call to rescue her. After all, he'd been pretty much the only thing she'd ever known to make her feel safe.
Still, he wished he was capable of only giving her a ride home and then leaving.
But again, it was never that simple.
It was easy getting her into the car— that wasn't what he was worried about. Rather, it was the fated moment where she'd ask him to stay after he finally got her tucked safely into bed that worried him. Because it was bad enough that it was Y/N... It was her in all her alluring glory, and he'd never been able to deny her anything no matter how badly he tried or wanted to.
Now add on the fact that she was drunk, and most likely sad on their first Valentine's Day apart, and it was a recipe for disaster.
Even if she'd broken his heart, Spencer still cared about her.
Which is why he inevitably agreed to stay, at least until she fell asleep.
He knew her well enough to know all the ways she'd try to get him under the covers with her, so it was a familiar amusement that settled in his being when he was finally able to get on top of the covers with her underneath. But as he entertained her silly little questions with the right answers until she fell asleep, Spencer noticed something else accompanying that amusement.
Guilt.
And then anger for feeling guilty about her sadness— sadness that could have been avoided had she just gotten over whatever was holding her back and either returned his "I love you" or  told him she wasn't feeling the same way just yet.
All she had to do was talk.
He had a right to feel upset about Y/N holding back when he'd been nothing but patient, spending almost every year of their relationship trying to make her see that she had nothing to be afraid of. He'd given her every chance to talk about what she was feeling, whether it was happy or not, and every time she pushed it all away in favor of sex.
That wasn't what he wanted in a relationship, so he ended it. And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.
So why was he feeling so fucking guilty?
He blamed his good nature and innate need to please people, to make them feel good and happy. But he also blamed Y/N and her adorable drunken sleeping face.
He watched as she slept, willing himself not to forget the way she hurt him. She'd completely stolen his heart and shattered it at the same time, and if he was being honest, she still held some of the pieces. But he couldn't get them back, not if he didn't want to risk shattering her own heart in the process.
It felt like they were tied together by some strong, invisible force that wouldn't break unless both of them broke right along with it.
So... maybe he could afford to leave those pieces of his heart with her. He'd have to if they were going to get out of this alive. Not unscathed, sure, but alive nonetheless.
Once he was sure she was deep in sleep, Spencer quietly and carefully got off the bed and navigated through her apartment, getting her a glass of water and leaving it on the table next to her bed. And because he couldn't help it, he cleaned up some of the clothes that were scattered around her floor, depositing them into the hamper and straightening out a few more things that were out of place.
He looked over at her sleeping figure one more time, sighed, and then left, keeping her bedroom door open just a crack.
***
Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer.
Despite his better judgement, he'd plopped himself down on her couch after making sure she was sound asleep, hoping to catch his breath and sort through what he was feeling before he got behind the wheel. But of course, it was 2am and he was exhausted, and he couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes and drifting off.
And now he was sitting up, looking around the apartment through the lens of morning.
Though the curtains were sheer, they didn't provide much light, but enough of it showed him just how familiar the space was. Y/N hadn't moved anything around. The same art was on the same walls, the potted ivy plant on her mantle sat un-watered and withering, and every book and record and DVD on her shelves was in the exact same spot as they'd all been the last time he was there in December.
Meanwhile, after the breakup he'd re-arranged everything. He was so sure that they were through for good this time around that he wanted a clean slate. Not that he wanted to rid himself of her memory completely, but if he was going to move on from the hold she'd had on him, he had to do something...
And yet, he ended up at her apartment the morning after Valentine's Day all the same.
He heard the shower running faintly a couple rooms away. You didn't have to pass the couch to get there, so maybe she hadn't seen him sleeping and he could get away cleanly.
Spencer scrambled off the couch, thankful that he hadn't removed his jacket or his shoes and that he could just sprint towards the door without having to find any of his belongings.
But as luck would have it, the second he took a step, the shower turned off. He had to get out of there quickly, but if he did then she'd definitely know he'd stayed overnight. But if he went quietly, he wouldn't have enough time before she caught him.
Maybe I could hide...
He shook the thought with a roll of his eyes, settling on the clearest course of action, which was to make as quick of a getaway as he could. He'd try to be quiet as well, though the creaky door was going to be nearly impossible to get through without a sound.
His hand was on the doorknob when he heard her voice.
"You didn't think you could spend the night and then leave without saying goodbye, did 'ja?"
The pure amusement in her tone made his stomach churn, and it wasn't unpleasant in the slightest.
Spencer turned and smiled softly, avoiding looking at her completely. "Sorry. Didn't want to bother you."
"You're never a bother."
That sentiment held less amusement and more sincerity, which was what guided his eyes to meet the woman who said the words.
His stomach twisted again when he saw her, exactly like he knew she'd be— wrapped in nothing but a thin towel with near-dripping hair cascading down her back. Her legs were bare and exposed, the towel not only thin but short, which meant that her chest was also practically spilling out of it. Despite the obvious and inevitable hungover look in her eye, there was also a good splash of that mischief that'd always been there— the kind that spelled out trouble.
He needed to get out of there.
"Well, um... I'm glad I got you home safe," he said, clearing his throat. "I should... I should go."
"You sure you don't wanna stay for breakfast?"
Spencer could have sworn she was teasing him, dangling her body in front of him like a meal they both knew he wouldn't be able to resist. But then she added, "I've got everything I need for your favorite omelet," and he exhaled with a small smile, exhausted with his own mind for convincing him that she was out to pull him back in.
Still, he declined. "No, I... I shouldn't. But, uh, thank you..."
"You sure?"
This time when he looked up at her, she was closer. She was gently striding forward to meet him, and he half thought about backing up towards the door until he realized he was already there.
"I—I'm sure. Really."
"But you drove around all night just to take me home when I was drunk, the least I can do is feed you..."
"Eh, it's alright. It's... Nothing I haven't done before."
She stopped then, her eyes briefly dropping to the floor. It was like her whole demeanor changed—just for a second—from the prowess she'd always been, to what seemed to be a woman filled with sadness and regret. It didn't last long though, just enough for Spencer to notice it before she looked back up at him with that wicked gleam in her eye and a remark right at the tip of her tongue.
"Still. I feel bad, making you do all that for me... Especially now."
He wasn't sure what to make of this... It seemed like she was sincere, but she was also alluring, calling to him like a siren leading him to his ultimate demise. And while he'd come to know that as merely a part of her nature, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that she was doing it on purpose.
She was in a skimpy towel, after all, and she definitely knew how to use that to her advantage.
It didn't help that he didn't have the courage to leave. Everything inside of him right then longed to drop that towel and indulge himself once more. Putting aside all the heartache and the differences they shared, all he felt in that moment was the need to touch her— to get lost in her and never be found again.
She was his fatal flaw, and it was painfully obvious.
Spencer knew he shouldn't have stayed longer...
He was over to her in just three strides, throwing off his jacket and tossing it aside before cradling her face with his hands and bringing their lips together for the first time since Christmas Eve.
The small whine in her throat signaled that she hadn't expected it, but welcomed it all the same. The moment she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck, the towel fell to the floor, and there was no going back.
"What about breakfast?" Y/N breathed out once they pulled away for air.
Spencer contemplated, studying her face, seeing the way her eyes sparkled, and decided on the two words that sealed his fate.
"Screw breakfast."
Their lips were melded together almost as soon as the words left his mouth. And it wasn't long before every other part of their bodies were melded together as well.
Y/N helped him take the rest of his clothes off as they danced around the entryway and the living room. Everything was open, no walls separating the living room from the kitchen, so to compensate for the lack of breakfast they'd be eating, they migrated to the kitchen counter once Spencer had off everything but his boxers.
He trapped her against the cool marble of the countertop, her back hitting it solid and sending a shiver up her spine. Meanwhile his hands roamed her body, unsure of where to be other than on her at all times, whether it be her waist, her stomach, her arms, her breasts, or her ass. He wanted to feel all of her, and quite frankly she wanted the same.
She even told him so, in her own way, by bringing one of her legs up and wrapping it around his waist, pulling him closer to her as she wove her fingers through his hair and tasted his tongue with her own.
The action elicited a groan from his mouth, low and desperate. Spencer settled his hands on her waist and gripped it tight, silently telling her what to do.
So she jumped up and he helped guide her swiftly onto the counter. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist again, and he found himself grinding into her hips, urgent to feel every part of her. And thankfully she was feeling rather desperate herself, because she rolled her hips up into him in return, breaking their mouths apart just briefly to speak.
"Fuck me..."
There was so much he wanted to say to her in that moment— how badly he was feeling about keeping her entertained while he was slowly deteriorating inside from her emotional detachment and rejection, how much she frustrated him, and more prominently, how she was so goddamn impatient and that he was getting there...
But all that he could manage was a broken, desperate whisper of her name.
It was all he'd ever known.
All that frustration... All that anger, heartache, passion, and time apart combined beautifully into those few syllables that made up her name and tore him apart from the inside out.
And his hands were just as destructive.
Spencer deftly dropped his boxers to the ground and pushed forward, almost losing all sense of self the moment the head of his dick finally made contact with her cunt. He made his way inside of her and then used both of his hands to grip her waist and bring her closer, their mouths connecting harshly as they found one another once again.
His grip was bruising— not possessive in any way, but desperate, like he had to cling to her for dear life or he wouldn't live to see another day. He held himself inside her, sighing and whimpering into her mouth as she clenched around him. It was so familiar, so comfortable and exhilarating that he almost didn't even want to move. He thought about staying there, still inside her forever.
But as always, Y/N was insatiable.
She wrapped all her limbs around him and held on, rolling her hips and seeking friction in any way possible when she briefly tore her lips away from his.
"I need you, baby, please..."
Even as his heart started to rumble in his chest, well aware of the fact that she still probably didn't love him the way he loved her, Spencer gave her everything. He pulled out and snapped his hips forward again, setting a strong, steady pace that had Y/N's eyes rolling back, and the payoff of hearing her sigh out his name was more than enough to keep him going.
Her nails dug deliciously into his shoulders, the faint sting adding something reminiscent of gasoline to a fire. The flames grew taller and brighter the more he fucked her, and with each gradual increase of volume and intensity, it was a wonder the whole kitchen around them hadn't literally burst into flames.
That's how they always were.
Together like this, so lost in the high of each others' bodies, it was easy to forget the things that made their relationship so hard. It was easy to let all the negativity slip away into the throes of pent-up, well-needed sex. The high they gave each other was merely that— A high...
A distraction.
And while that's exactly what Y/N needed, what she preferred in most cases, it's what Spencer recognized as completely unhealthy, despite his coming back to it every time.
It's also why he dreaded the moment ending. Because once they came down from the high, all that's left would be sadness, regret... Guilt... Their fire burned hot, brightly and wildly, but in the aftermath would lay only a thick layer of deadly smoke between them— hard to navigate, and nearly impossible to breathe in without suffocating.
So they simply burned and burned and burned...
Spencer gripped her so tight he was sure to leave her with bruising. And in turn Y/N dragged her nails down his back and dug them into his ass, her palm laying firmly over the muscles that aided in fucking her into the marbled surface. She whined out curses and moans, and he cried out broken whispers of her name, pet names, and curses alike.
Even once she'd come, he kept going, willing himself to hold on as long as he could. She whined into his ear at the overstimulation. And rather than keeping her legs wrapped around his body, she decided to spread them wide, perching her heels up on the counter as far as she could go and anchoring her fingers through his hair.
And though she might not have had enough orgasms in her to keep up with him, she welcomed it all the same—She welcomed the burn just as much as he did.
Even still, no fire can burn forever.
All concept of time was lost by the time Spencer finally collapsed forward, completely spent and barely standing on weak legs after coming twice. Y/N held onto him tightly to keep him upwards, lightly massaging his scalp with gentle fingers and closing her eyes as she focused on his breathing— the way it fanned over the skin of her bare shoulder and how it sounded, perfectly in time with hers...
It was the most peaceful she'd been in a long time.
She felt him pull out of her, the both of them groaning at the feeling, and a little at the mess it would make.
Spencer gently peeled his body off of hers, sniffing once and avoiding her eyes. "Sorry... You just got out of the shower..."
"It's fine," Y/N breathed. She begged him silently to look her in the eye, but he remained still... Most likely thinking. She could practically see the cogs turning in his brain.
So, in an effort to lighten the mood a bit, she added with a breathy laugh, "Besides... It's nothing I haven't done before."
The callback to his words—and memories of all the times they'd found themselves in this position before—got Spencer to laugh a little, but he still wouldn't meet her eyes.
Finally, he cleared his throat. "I'll... I'll grab the wipes?"
"Oh. Sure," Y/N returned with a thankful smile. It was hopeful, too, though the moment he was out of eyesight, it turned rather sad.
She'd known that behavior before, seen that hesitation in his movements and that sound in his voice.
It was guilt.
Regret.
Probably a bit of self-hatred, too.
When he returned, a pile of her clothes in hand and the bag of wipes on top, she took them from him with a kind smile and cleaned herself up while he put his clothes back on.
The silence was more uncomfortable than anything either of them had ever experienced.
So much so, that Y/N couldn't even muster up the courage to ask him to stay for breakfast— and she always did after one of their post-break hookups.
Maybe this time really was different.
Spencer was just at the door again when she stopped him.
"Thank you," she said. Her voice was so small, he almost didn't hear it. "For bringing me home..."
But he paused, turned, and finally looked her in the eye.
He almost sunk to his knees right there...
Seeing her, arms crossed like she was trying to keep warm, as her head hung low and she looked up at him through sad, hooded eyelids...
It reminded him of the woman he fell in love with.
But in his peripheral, he saw the towel on the floor and was reminded of the woman who'd shattered his heart.
Spencer cleared his throat. Once upon a time he might have returned her thanks with, Anytime, but... Honestly he wasn't sure there could ever be another time. For his sanity, he'd have to avoid 'anytime' at all costs.
So, he settled on, "You're welcome."
He was glad to see her return his kind smile with one of her own, even if it was tainted with sadness, and a small wave goodbye.
Maybe this time it would stick.
Even still, as he closed the door behind him and made his way to the parking lot, for some reason it didn't quite feel like goodbye.
And some of that deadly smoke that settled in his lungs as he drove further and further away from her apartment was inclined to agree.
***
Neither of them could sleep that night.
While Spencer stared out the window of the jet, a little annoyed to be called out on a case so late but at least thankful for the distraction, Y/N laid in bed, staring at the stars on her ceiling.
The same constellation caught their eye.
Columba.
The Dove.
She hadn't even meant to arrange the stars like that, but one night after a date, they were laying in her bed and Spencer pointed out that the cluster of plastic stars right in the corner of the ceiling looked like Columba.
Y/N fondly remembered Spencer telling her about how it was originally named to represent Noah's dove, which searched for dry land during the great biblical flood and returned carrying an olive branch to make news of its recession— of peace at last.
The memory made her smile. It tugged at her heart and made her dreams of him even more vivid.
All the same, Spencer noticed the constellation outside the jet window and remembered that same night. The smile on her face as he told her the story, the feel of her fingers gliding softly over the bare skin of his forearm...
It was the first night since he'd met her that he thought it.
I love her...
He almost told her then, too, but he was afraid it was too soon. So he refrained.
Looking back, Spencer was starting to regret that— Maybe without that extra time together, breaking up would have been easier. But instead, he gave her more time. He gave himself more time to fall deeper in love with her, and in the end it still wasn't enough.
Now they were both looking at the same constellation, one made of plastic and the other of gas, wondering if their flood would ever recede.
And in the event that it did... Who would be the dove, and what would be their olive branch?
“You know I dream about getting back together in the future, I could focus on you. But if I leave right now, I hope that you don’t find someone that touches you the way that I do...”
***
SERIES TAGLIST:   @reidyoulikeabook​ @yourmisosoup​ @fortheloveofcriminalminds​ @bellzo17​ @altsvu​ @flipperpenguins​ @mcumorningstar​
TAGS NOT WORKING: @reid-to-me @totallyclearwitch
193 notes · View notes