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#if anyone wants to be tagged in stranger things edits lmk!
gentlemancowboy · 2 years
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Ԁ ∩  Ǝ ⋊ ∀ M  ⅄ S S I ᴚ H Ɔ
For @lengthofropes’ Milestone Celebration ⤷ Orange + Horror
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notthatsamkim · 1 year
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𝕯𝖎𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝕴𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖎𝖗𝖊
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
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heeseung x fem!reader
genre : strangers to lovers? - the forbidden "i warned you" type of story
warnings : fem!reader, reader skips class, abandonment of friends.. lmk if i missed something
a/n : this is just a snippet of a possible longer fic i am planning. just trying to see where i'm at with my writing skills after my year-long hiatus from writing — i suck at editing so let's see past that
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"y/n y/l/n??!" 
heeseung had watched you linger around one of the benches as your other classmates had made their way to their respective classes, phone against your ear several times to no luck. he watched you get up, playfully swinging your bag left and right behind your back as if you’d given up trying to reach whoever it was on the other end of your call.
"why, what's wrong?" heeseung chuckled nervously.
all coherent thoughts were thrown out the window when his legs took him in your direction. the few classes on his schedule he was due to be present at, were put on hold. all he cared about was the adventure you ought to set yourself on. he wanted to know why his friends warned him about you even though things like that can end up badly, but he also remembered being told to not pull judgement about anyone or anything if he hadn’t tried anything - for the sake of witnessing himself - yet.
"i know you're entitled to be attracted to whoever your heart desires but,.. i just don't get good vibes from her."
"you know her?"
you’d made it to the gate when you finally noticed someone following you. you’d turned around. at first, you wanted to make sure it was not you he was interested in, so you continued walking until he too turned the corner to walk through the park towards the bus stop.
“oh.. hey there?” heeseung waved shyly, suddenly losing every ability to say something. you’d rummaged through your brain where you remembered seeing him as you allowed your eyes to trail away from him. he was seen hanging out with the people who had not so nice things to say about you and you never understood why, because you thought they were grown enough to form an opinion of their own. clearly not.
not until heeseung.
"i talked to her now and then, but i definitely don't want to be her friend."
“a-are you here to report me?” 
heeseung was taken aback when your first question wasn’t why he would be following you, “why would i do that?”
you wanted to open your mouth, but didn’t find it appropriate to fill him in on how his friends had watched your every move on your way out of the school grounds, when you hadn’t had proper conversations with him yet. and it was as if heeseung got a sense of what you were trying to say.
"how do you know what she is like?" heeseung challenged. 
“i don’t know where to go yet, i guess i’ll find out when i get on the bus.”
“why don’t you ask your friends?”
you waved your phone in the air and chuckled, "tried that.”
there weren’t many times he’d ever crossed paths with you so he thought that time could be the first of many. bold coming from him, but he would have to start somewhere if he wanted to prove himself.
“would you… mind hanging out with me then?”
a quizzical expression took over your face, “sure you aren’t here gathering intel for your friends?” there, you said it.
heeseung sighed, “i’m not. but i am curious to know what is so bad about you.”
you nodded. “i hope i don’t disappoint then.”
you already regretted showing the very side of you that people are apparently warned about - being vulnerable, translated into clinginess.
"i can smell it from miles away.”
“likewise,” heeseung smiled.
"well.. i don't know her so maybe she's not like that at all and people just read her wrong?"
"i don't know hee, just be careful. or stay away to be safe."
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ─── tagging : @kurosism @seungkwan-s @alohajun @kpophubb @doehee for testing
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justablah56 · 2 years
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Pinned Post
Hey there !!! I'm Aether , it/it's :]
@justahopelessbellusromantic is my a-spec side blog
I also run the @dndadscharacterpolls , so if you're interested in that, go check it out !
Im open to art requests ! I make no promises on how long they'll take me or if I'll do them at all tbh- tho please make sure that it's a character I know , otherwise I wont do it , sorry 😅 I've got a list of fandoms I'm in just below the cut if you want to check and see if I know the character youd like me to draw, or you can ask if youre not sure :]
I have . so many dndads character/ship playlists and if you ever want to see if I have a playlist for smthin I probably do and I WILL send them to you btw <3
this is a notice to every individual who decided to actually read my pinned post , PLEASE FUCK SEND ME CHARACTER RANTS/INFODUMPS I WILL LOVE YOU !! I don't even care if I know the character though I'm sure that will help , I just love listening to people talk about things and if anyone decides they want to spout random headcannons or fun facts or whatever about their blorbo/ship/hyperfixation ? please do !! idc if you decide to do it on anon or whatever , just so long as you know you will lovingly be referred to as *character/ship/thing* anon in my brain <3 and if you're asking off anon I'll probably come up with a talking tag for you eventually unless you give me one to use <333
below the cut is mostly just a guide to all the tags I use in case any of y'all want to know those either to find specific stuff or block specific tags :3
I post mostly dndads, rwd, tma, or just y'know whatever, but I'm also interested in/will post about dvc, dungeon meshi, galavant, love and luck, hohr, tmagp, malevolent, monstrous agonies, tss, furry stuff, tpp, ofmd, stellar firma, wtnv, w359, any Riordanverse books, tdp, Pokemon, good omens, toh, amphibia, gravity falls, de:pp, stranger things, cookie run, A:tla, Steven universe, plus probably a few other assorted fandoms that I can't think of rn :]
all my art is tagged under "my art" , and you are welcome to use my art in edits or as a pfp etc . as long as I'm credited :]
"blah's reblogs" is me rbing my own art/other posts that I probably made at some ungodly hour that I still want to be seen
"just blahs" is my talking tag , and "cookies rambles <3" , "icy asks !" , "silly zilly" , "jay !!" , "hi laurie !!" , and "vik !!" are a few of my friend's talking tags for when they decide to have full conversations in my ask box <3 "tj anon" and "gothweebcleats anon" are exactly what they sound like , beloved anons who occasionally appear to talk about their guys <3
I use the tags "tag games" and "ask games" so if you see some post tagged w that you can probably scroll back through that tag for a minute to see which ask game I'm replying to !
I also tag most art/outfit memes with "art meme" , so if you wanna send me a req please do ! however if I rbed it more than like . a few days before you ask I would like it if you specified which one you're talking abt 😅
"luca my beloved" is the tag for my oc Luca and his partner Mitch, I'm always happy to receive asks abt either of em or outfit suggestions or literally anything tbh dbjdjdjdn I just like thinking abt them and getting questions abt them
"pet posting" is me talking abt my cat and/or dog bcs I love them <3
if you have anything you'd like me to tag , don't hesitate to lmk and I will try my best to make sure to tag it :3
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crescentsteel · 3 years
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Just Friends - Part 7
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plot: fubu set up with Kuroo , model fem reader warnings: sexual tension, slow burn word count: 7.2k 
A.N:
- Finally!! I'm so glad to finally release this. October was so hectic and I'm a very slow writer. - I'm so sorry for the mistakes on the previous chapters. No one beta reads for me. So I went back and edited Chapters 3-6. - So sorry for the word vomit on this chapter. I was out of control. - Thank you for all the nice comments!! I swear. They keep me fired up and inspired.  - As always, lmk if you want to be tagged in any of my works,
Part 6 | Part 8 |  m.list
“No! It’s not what you think!”
Kuroo almost laughs at how cliche you sounded, a typical response of someone who’s been caught red-handed. You’re about to chase Kenma, but he grabs your wrist to stop you.
“Maybe you should wear your shirt before you go after ‘im.” He tries to hide the mirth in his expression and tone. Your face is so red, you look like you’re about to burst. He also doesn’t want to add up more to the awkwardness you might feel later, so he’s gonna let this one slide. He’ll just pretend that the massage thing was as harmless as it should be. 
You put your shirt in a jumble and walk briskly to Kenma. He follows at his normal pace, settling behind you when he catches up to you and Kenma.
“Sorry about that,” you laugh nervously. “He was just giving me a back massage.”
It was kinda the truth, but Kenma looks dubious. 
“It sounded more than a massage.”
He covers his lips with his back hand so he wouldn’t laugh. Although his rascal self wants to tease you more, he can’t let you feel any more embarrassed than this. He looks at Kenma and shakes his head minutely with a knowing look, hinting not to push the subject any further. 
“Naah. Y/n here is just really stressed so she moans like she’s being fucked.” Okay, maybe he couldn’t completely let it slide after all. 
You irritatedly look at him and punch his arm with more force than usual. “Piss off,” you hiss. 
He dramatically rubs the arm you just hit. “Ow! So violent.”
Kenma ignores the antics and just passes by you two. He’s about to plop himself on the couch, but pauses. He instead gets a chair and seats himself there.
You couldn’t overlook that. Obviously, in Kenma’s mind, you and Kuroo were doing something indecent there so he doesn’t want to be in it. You want to clear it up to Kenma that you really weren’t doing anything of that sort. Well, you were about to pounce on Kuroo, but still, it didn’t actually happen. 
In a way, you’re relieved that Kenma interrupted at the right time. You might have done something you will harrowingly regret afterwards.
“Don’t sweat it, y.n. He just misinterpreted it.” Kuroo’s unusually magnanimous today. It’s strange. He wouldn’t have lived this down on a regular day. Maybe it's because of your no sex relationship? Still, this is aberrant of him. He shouldn’t fail to notice how that last  moan of yours was not of comfort. 
“Right?” He adds, his eyes gauging your own.
So that’s how it is. He is aware. But he’s giving you the option to disregard what just almost happened. You’re relieved, but also confused at the tiny shards of disappointment prickling in your chest. This is what you wanted, for you to avoid sex and Kuroo in the same room. It shouldn’t be confusing.
You look down and break away from the eye contact. You put a hand on your hip and the other on your temple, which then moves to brush your hair back.
With a long, audible puff, you speak.
“Of course, it was nothing,” you return to his gaze with a dry expression to camouflage the lie behind your words. But at the same time, you also wait for him to say something or for his eyes to show something other than indifference. You don’t know what it is you want or expect, but you wait for it. You’ll know it when you see it. 
It doesn’t come though as he shrugs it off like it was nothing. 
Disappointed, that’s what you are. You don’t like the feeling, but you are.
You ring your driver again, hoping that this time he’ll finally answer. If he doesn’t get to you any soon, you’ll be late for your shoot. You can’t be late for this shoot in particular. Mitsuki’s the creative director. She’s a very pleasant one, but she absolutely hates tardiness. No exceptions. She gets all sour and crank when someone’s late. 
The other end of the line picks up. “Ms l/n. I’m so sorry. One of the tires got flat. I need to change it, but I’m still stuck in traffic.”
Of all the days to get a flat tire on a heavy traffic, it had to be this day. You exhale heavily to clear the irritation getting under your skin. 
“How long before you’re here?”
“I think about an hour, Ms.”
You aren’t the type to get mad at hired help, but you’re really in a pinch. In an hour, you should be in hair and make up already, not arriving only then. Mitsuki gets enraged when someone’s 15 minutes late. To be late an hour, you can’t imagine how she’d be. There’s no way you’re going to wait here for an hour.
“Don’t come anymore. Just get it fixed.” You say coldly before you end the call. It wasn’t the driver’s fault. You wouldn’t bother getting a driver if your car hadn’t been acting up recently. Being dumb this morning, you forgot about your busted car and was late in this morning’s meeting with a client. You found yourself brisk walking in heels at the hotel’s lobby earlier just to save yourself from any more delayed minutes. And now, even your driver’s car is jacked up. 
“Y.n?”
You turn around at the recognizable calm voice you heard. It’s Kenma, except he wasn’t alone. Kuroo is right there beside him. It was kind of weird to see them together at this place and both in business wear. 
“What’re you two doing here?” 
“I’m working with Kenma here to sponsor our next promotional video.”
You just stared at the two of them. You’re used to the three of you just fooling around when you’re together. Meeting like this when you’re all in the middle of doing your jobs is something new to you. 
“And who might you be giving a hard time on the phone, hmm y.n.?”
They heard that? They must both be near while you were getting bummed out from being late this morning and potentially late this afternoon. 
“Ah! I need to go. My driver can’t make it. I’m going to be late,” you spiral back to your hectic schedule. “Bye.” You give them a quick wave, and despite your heels, you walk as fast as you could towards the entrance of the hotel. 
You try to hail cabs that were passing by, but almost every cab was occupied. And for some reason, someone always managed to get the empty cabs before you can even spot them. To worsen your luck, it began to rain. You frantically tap your left foot on the concrete as the panic sets in you.
Mitsuki’s gonna kill me.
You bite your lip and contemplate how you’re going to arrive in the venue on time. The answer you found made you turn back on your heels to go back inside the hotel, only to find them already there behind you. 
“You’re here,” you exhale, relieved that they haven’t gone anywhere out of your sight. “I’m in a bind. Can anyone give me a ride?” 
The two men exchanged pithy looks, but you don’t bother figuring out what that could’ve meant. You just need the help you typically won’t ask for since you’re always doing things on your own.
“I can’t. I have a stream coming up. Sorry, y.n.” Kenma first spoke. You shift to Kuroo, hoping that he can give you the time of day. “Yea, sure. Am free for the rest of the day actually.” He says with a brief smile. 
“Oh, thank God!” The panic and nerves were clearing out of your system. Despite the awkwardness of your previous massage fiasco, right now, you’re glad that he can help. 
“Bye, then.” Kenma quickly took his leave as the hotel valet stepped out from his car and handed him his keys. 
“Should we go now?” Kuroo asked. “Aren’t we waiting for your car?” “No. I don’t want strangers handling my car.” “Then why did you go here?”
Amusement shows on his face at your question. “I saw your cute attempt to hail a cab. Is that how rich kids do it? Let someone else steal their ride for them?” You smile sweetly, disgustingly sweet, then roll your eyes before saying, “Let’s just go.”
You told him the location of the shoot. The drive was comfortable as you both share work conversations with your usual banters on the side. Being friends with Kuroo is confusing and reassuring at the same time. With the history you two shared, you need to tread the waters of your friendship carefully every once in a while. If it wasn’t the sexual tension, it was the affection you felt towards him that would sometimes seem like resurfacing. Even with all that, you can’t bear to walk away from what you presently have. You feel like you really found genuine company with him and Kenma.
“We’re here. Let me just get an umbrella.” He looks back to the back seat and stretches his right arm to reach for it. The current angle of his face emphasized his sharp jaw and the length of his neck. You were just thinking how you need to tread carefully, but easier said than done when you know exactly how your fingers have grazed that jaw, how your tongue has tasted that neck, and much more. 
“What’s taking you so long? I might as well get drenched from the rain,” you snap because you can’t stand your own indecent thoughts. 
“Found it.” He says and returns to his normal sitting position. “Why the hell are you suddenly cranky? Geez.” You feel bad for being suddenly grouchy. He was just being nice and you were being nasty for reasons you can’t tell him. “Sorry. Just don’t want to be late,” you apologized.
He shrugs it off nonchalantly. “Hey. Where’s my umbrella?” You ask when you see him reaching for the door with only one umbrella in his hand. 
“We’re sharing this. I only have one.”
You purse your lips to the side and sharply avert your eyes elsewhere, your irritation resurfacing again. You feel uncomfortable with the idea of being that physically close to him. You’ve pushed the massage incident behind, but that doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten about it. 
“What is up with you? What are you so pissed about?”
“Nothing. Can we go now?”
He stares at you for a good 3 seconds before getting out and opening his umbrella. He moves to your side of the vehicle and opens the door. You get out and try to avoid any raindrops. He closes the door and presses his car keys to lock the vehicle. 
You both start to walk towards the entrance of the place. You’ve never felt more awkward in your life. You’re avoiding getting past the edge of the umbrella while also avoiding Kuroo’s body. 
“Why is your umbrella so small?” 
“The heck are you talkin about? This is the standard size.”
You don’t answer him. The umbrella isn’t small. He’s just huge and his whole body occupied almost all the space under the shade. You flinch when he suddenly grabs you by the shoulder and pulls you close, so close that you can feel the firmness of his body pressed onto yours. 
You raise your gaze to him with a raised eyebrow. 
“You’re gonna get wet if we don’t huddle closer.” You could accept his reason, if only you didn’t catch the miniscule curl of his lips and the skittish glint in his eyes. It was so typical of him really. Maybe you should stop being so worked up all the time. 
“Fine.” Even though he was messing you, you can’t deny that it’s much more comfortable. You’re safe from the rain and his body provided heat from the coldness of the downpour.
He doesn’t do or say anything more as you both get to the doorway of the bar where the shoot will be held. He puts down the umbrella when you reach the shade of the building. Before you’re able to get away from Kuroo’s hold, the door opens. Mitsuki was holding her phone to her ear when she met your eyes. 
“I was calling you and you weren’t — oh.” Her eyes flew to the hand on your shoulder and traveled to its owner. “Well, well, y/n. You leave for a good while, then come back loaded.” You can always count on Mitsku to not hold her tongue. You gently release yourself from Kuroo’s hold to avoid looking defensive. “It’s not like that,” was your thrift reply. 
“Kuroo, this is Mitsuki, my creative director for today, sometimes my friend too. Mitsuki, this is Kuroo.” 
Both of them exchange casual greetings for meeting the first time. 
“How come you mention our relationship, but not yours?” referring to you and Kuroo. You sigh. “He’s also a friend.” You turn to Kuroo and thank him for the ride and his time. 
“Is your driver picking you up?” he asked.
You seal your eyes shut at your own stupidity. Because you were panicking and irritated, you sent your driver home. You open them again and purse your lips in a straight line. “No. I’ll just take a cab.”
“With your cab-hailing skills in this rain? Good luck with that.” he snorts. “Haha. Real funny.” From the corner of your eyes, you see Mitsuki with an entertained grin on her face, obviously enjoying the exchange between you and Kuroo. 
“Call me when you’re done. I’ll come pick you up then.” You want to protest but it will just drag on. You don’t want Mitsuki seeing more of the dynamics of your relationship, so you thriftly say “Okay.”
“Kuroo-san, right?” Both of you shift your attention to Mitsuki. “Actually, we need a male model because the scheduled one today is a total wimp and cancelled last minute.” She shamelessly eyed Kuroo from head to toe. So that’s why she was about to call you. The shoot was cancelled. 
When she looks at you, you mouth the word “no” to let her know that she shouldn’t do what you think she’s about to do. The reaction you got was her smiling widening before speaking to Kuroo. “Do you have an agent? Can we talk over the phone right now to discuss?”
That’s when you step forward. “Uhhh. He’s not a model. He used to be a volleyball player, hence the height and build.” You say defensively. You nudge Kuroo with your elbow so that he’ll back you up, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s just there waiting for Mitsuki’s next words. 
“An athlete, I see.” She nods approvingly. “That’s perfect! I don’t have to talk to anyone. It’s completely up to you then.”
“Errr. I don’t really know anything about modeling. Sorry.”
Your relief was short-lived when she tugs you to her direction and grips both of your shoulders. “Then your friend here can guide you. She’ll be your co-model anyways.” 
He probably figured out by now why you were so apprehensive during the conversation just now. You don’t want him as your co-model. 
His grin just confirmed your thoughts. “I’ll go for it then.” His eyes sparkling with mischief made you surrender. You already admit defeat in your head even though the shoot is just about to start. 
You both get in hair and makeup. Being a woman, you take longer to finish. The clothes the stylists are arranging on you are taking while as well.  They let you wear a very long, elegant gold dress that fits your upper body like your second skin, but the material is flowy from your waist down. When you arrive at the set, he’s already there talking with Mitsuki while waiting for you. Mitsuki notices you first. “Alright! We’re good to go.”
When Kuroo faces you, you almost don’t recognize him. His usual emo bangs were gone. They brushed his hair up cleanly. The suit he was wearing earlier was replaced by gray slacks and white long sleeve polo that has two top buttons open. You have conflicted feelings towards the hair and make up staff that did the work. They did a remarkable job with his overall style. He does look like a model like this. But also, why the hell did they make him look this damn good? The regular Kuroo was bad enough for you.
“This feels weird. I feel like I have too many things on me.” You scowl at his remark. “Too many? Wanna try being a girl?” He’s about to retort but Mitsuki claps twice which calls both of your attention.
“So our client is a liquor brand and the theme is something like wild love at the bar. What I want is you two giving the impression of having a passionate first encounter while you’re out drinking. Give me something and we’ll work it out as we go on, mkay?” 
You knew you’d be working with a male model for this brand, but you didn’t expect that they’d go with something like this. You thought it was just going to be glamour shots to showcase the drink.
But what Mitsuki said, ‘Wild love at the bar’?? That is not something you’d want to be doing with him. It reminded you of the first night you met. 
“I’m all ears on what to do, y/n” His haughty smile doesn’t help the situation one bit. You take a deep breath. This is not the time to muck around. You’re the experienced one, so you’ll be taking the lead. “Swear to me that you’ll take this seriously.” You glare at him, no trails of humor apparent. The change in his demeanor surprised you. You forgot how intimidating he can get when he’s serious. You’re so used to him being an idiot all the time that it catches you off guard. But for today, you’re glad to have it.
You explain to him how the whole shoot will go. For the first shot, you ask a staff member for a chair and tell Kuroo to sit on it. “Get the glass with the liquor and look at the camera while holding it.” He did as you told, except he has this perplexed look on his face with a noticeable discomfort from the way his lips curled in a corner. 
“On second thought, maybe this is a bad idea,” he said after trying the first time. You want to agree with him, but the shoot is already happening. You just want to get over it already since you’re already there. “Nooo. Uh-uh.” Mitsuki’s tone took a sharp turn. She wasn’t happy with what Kuroo said. “Just imagine you’re in a bar, chilling with your favorite drink and you just snagged the hottest girl in the place.” 
“Hottest girl aka me,” you comment on her instruction. That seemed to work because he changed back to his normal self and looked at you with amusement. “Just like the night we met, huh?” He said it low enough for only you to hear, but you still glanced nervously to Mitsuki if she caught any of it.  
“That’s a nice expression, Kuroo! Keep looking at her like that.” You ease up since it looks like she didn’t hear it. You put your elbow on his shoulder and tilt your hips to give your waist an S curve while angling your body towards him at the same time. You lift your chin up a bit and look at the camera with parted lips.
“Yep. Looking good dear.” Mitsuki signals the photographer to start taking the shots. You both slightly alter your angles so the pose will have variations. Sometimes you look at Kuroo, smile flirtatiously at him, or look at the camera in a sultry way. Every time you two would look at each other, you’d ‘cheat’ and look at the bridge of his nose to give the illusion that you’re actually looking at his eye. 
While looking at the shots from a separate screen, she suddenly asks the photographer to stop. You both straighten your bodies while awaiting instructions.  “It looks nice,” she said before looking at your direction. “But it’s boring. There’s nothing wild about it.”  You space out for a bit because for the first time, you don’t know how to proceed. You’re used to fashion shoots and runway. You’ve never had an ad with this theme. “Y.n, dear, can you be a bit aggressive towards him?”
You raise your eyebrow from disbelief. “A-aggressive?”
Mitsuki nods. “Throw yourself at him, dominate him, take control. mkay?” You feel a bit pressured when she’s just looking at you two and waiting for you to start posing for the camera. You don’t have a solid idea in your head, but you just go for it. You try to prop yourself up on the bar counter, but your dress won’t allow you.
Kuroo notices your dilemma and gets up from his seat. “You could’ve asked for help, you know.” He positions himself in front of you and grabs your waist. His hands were strong yet gentle. With your palms still on the surface of the counter, he lifts you up while you put weight on your arms so you can usher yourself properly. You’ve been deliberately avoiding his gaze, but right now, your eyes are glued to his face. 
“Yes. Like that.” You both flick your gaze towards Mitsuki. “Do that.” She instructs the photographer to move the side so the angle of the shot captures you both without him blocking you completely. You realize the position you two have. “I agreed to this to make you uncomfortable, but I’m not gonna lie. I’m the one extremely uncomfortable right now.” Kuroo whispers with a hint of regret on his face. The camera flashes start going off but something clicked between the two of you that you two end up laughing. It’s probably the awkwardness and the nerves that’s been hanging on the air that something so shallow as Kuroo admitting his uneasiness, cracked you both up.
It was just a brief exchange of laughter but you feel relaxed. Even though Mistuki is pretty cool for a creative director, she’s still as serious as any professional. So when you see her smiling as you apologized for the delay, you’re a bit shocked.
“No worries dear. Let’s continue then.”
You feel more confident now. You’re you. The reason you became successful on an international level is because of your professionalism and ability to produce quality results.
From being seated on the counter, you’re a few centimeters taller than Kuroo. That completed the idea in your head. You took the glass drink and placed it on your right hand. “Put your hands on my hips,” you tell him then lightly lift his chin with your index finger, “and look at me like you worship me.” The command earned a raised eyebrow from him but you pay no heed to it.
You extend an arm over his right shoulder, the glass dangling on your fingertips. With your index finger on his chin, you look to the camera with provocative eyes. If anything looks wrong with Kuroo, you’ll just let Mitsuki handle it. After all, she’s the one who asked him to be a part of this. 
“Oh yea! That’s really good.” Compared to before, she looks pleased with the shots now. The pose was captured a few times before she speaks again. “Instead of using your finger, grab his hair to tilt his head back.�� You comply immediately and tugs his locks downwards. You might’ve done it a bit rougher than you wanted because you heard a raspy grunt from his throat. You got distracted, so instead of looking at the camera, you look at him. 
You regret it. When you said he should look at you with worship, you didn’t think he’d do it this well. Because his hair is pushed completely all the way back, you see every aspect of his face. Nothing was blocking his eyes that were full of yearning and desire. He’s looking at you like you’re not just the hottest girl in the bar, but the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes one. 
“Pull him closer and look here y.n.” You do as you’re told, thankful that you needed to look somewhere else. “Damn. You two look so good right now.” She gently claps her hands while looking at the monitor.
“I’m already satisfied, but let’s just do one more for another option. Umm, Kuroo. You be the aggressor this time. Y/n, …. you know what to do.” She winks after.
Well, not really you don’t. She just wants you to do the thinking on what to do. You put the glass down and put both your hands on his shoulders. “Help me down?” You ask with an easygoing smile. You don’t want to ruin the momentum of the shoot, so you decide to be nice to him for now. 
 “You got it,” then his hand travels up your waist and guides you down back to the floor. You tell him to lean on the counter. He follows with no complaints. You get his arm and ushers him to wrap it on your waist. When he goes along with your silent instruction, you raise your leg to his side.   
“Tug my skirt up to my thighs.”
He doesn’t react and just squints at you.. “Huh?” Since he did not grasp what you meant, you take it to yourself to do it and slowly gather the material at the ends. Then, you yank it up to your thigh. “Get it?” He whistles as he gets the cloth from your hands. “Hey. Don’t do that. If you’re a real model, you’d be in trouble if I report that behavior.”
“But I’m not a real model, am I?” You glare at his provocation. You won’t be having any of his crap at your workplace. “Kuroo,” you say with a menacing glare and he immediately gets the threat behind it. “My bad, my bad. I’ll behave again, kay? Stop scowling now.” You relax your face and take a deep breath. “Moving on then.” You enclose your left arm on his neck while you plant your right on his chest. You don’t want to direct him any further than this. If this is unsatisfactory, Mitsuki will say something. 
Aaaand she does. “Kuroo-san. Aggressive please. Own her. You don’t want her to get away from you.” Upon hearing Mitsuki’s additional instructions, everything about him intensifies three folds. He pulls you even closer, causing your breath to hitch when his face is dangerously near yours all of a sudden. His sleeves don’t do anything to mask the firmness of his arms. And even with the velvet fabric, you can still the strength of his thighs as they’re pinned on yours. The heat of his hand ignited the skin of your thigh as he clutched the fabric and your flesh forcefully. And his eyes, they no longer worship you. They spoke of something similar, but not quite. 
He wants to devour you whole. 
It was too overwhelming for you, so you look away and close your eyes dramatically to make it seem like you’re being swept away in the moment. After one camera flash, “Okay dear, but I need you to look at him this time.”
The few seconds of breaking away from his fiery stare did you some good. You were able to collect yourself again, but not enough to truly look at him. You just focus your gaze right between his eyes as you did earlier.  
“Nooo. When I said look at him, I meant really look at him. Respond with your own passion. You’re looking a bit of a scared vegetable right now, honey.” You’ve never had feedback like that in forever. Maybe when you tried modeling the first few months, you received something similar to that. But never when you started doing it full time. 
You don’t want to, but you have to. You finally meet his gaze and tap into something inside yourself that you’ve been holding back. You let your desire for him deluge you, let it surge through your veins until you’re aching for him. You push yourself even closer to him, not allowing even air to pass between your bodies. 
“Yes! YES! You want him so much, but you shouldn’t.” 
It was just as she said. You want him so much, so much that it almost hurts. You part your lips slightly as you get lost in the moment.
“Oh my God.” Her words sounded distant. It was there. You can hear it, but what clouded your senses was your heart pounding hard against your chest, his hot breath mingling with yours, and the way his eyes are now devoted to your lips. Not long after, he angles his face so that your lips are almost touching. Just a tiptoe and a kiss will already take place. You clench your fingers on his shirt, holding yourself back from that one tiny push that will allow you to feel his lips on yours again. 
“Holy Shit! HOLY SHIT! That was it. That was the money shot.” Mitsuki’s shrill voice which was followed by her squeal broke the trance you were in. You know what she meant. The shoot is done. Yet, you still feel hot. The heated atmosphere around you two still hasn’t caved in. He let go of your thigh as you put some space away from him. You settle your hands on his shoulders while you rest your forehead on his chest. He doesn’t move either. His hand remains on your waist, but without the force this time. With his other hand, he caringly skims the curve of your shoulder. 
“You okay, kitten?”
His voice is so gentle, you nearly convince yourself that it sounded loving. You nod weakly before heading back to the dressing room without saying anything. 
Kuroo’s gaze followed your back as you disappeared. He was amazed but also bothered at what just happened. You looked really into it, like you really wanted him. If the shoot didn’t finish any sooner, he might have closed that tiny gap that separated your lips from his. He’s been aching for you for so long that his control is slipping inch by inch every time there’s an opportunity to cross that line of friendship you set. When he saw you let go and completely relent within his hold, it was maddening at how he couldn’t have you at the moment. What’s worse is that even without the glamorous set, he knows you’re still not his to have. 
He walks towards the room where his clothes were hung and changes back to his usual suit. He asked the make up staff to remove everything on his face. He doesn’t like the feeling of having a layer of cosmetics on his skin. The hair they couldn’t do anything about because they used a lot of product to fix it up. 
When he gets out of the room, Mitsuki approaches him with a satisfied look on her face
“You did so well for someone with no experience at all. Do you have a card? I can hook you up for other gigs. You’ll do great.”
He smiles graciously at her generous offer, but he doesn’t want it. “Sorry, but I’m not really interested. I only did it cause it was her.” He said truthfully. Mitsuki’s mouth curled in amusement. “You know, y.n’s really good to work with. She always had this cool facade that never went down, and it works for her. We love her for it. But today,” she pauses as she gives him a meaningful look. “I’ve never seen her show such vulnerability and rawness. It was,” she sighs with admiration for you.
“Beautiful, wasn’t it?” He knows exactly what she’s saying. After all, he has seen several times how captivating your authenticity can be. 
“Soo, are you two dating or what?” Her eyebrows twitch up and down from anticipation at what he’s about to answer. He badly wants to say yes, but he doesn’t have that luxury. “Naaah. Like she said, I’m just a friend.”
She’s obviously dissatisfied with his response. He is too, but that’s the lousy truth. Out of the blue, she takes her phone out. “Too bad though. You two looked really good here.” She showed him the photo and it was you and him earlier. You were seated in the counter with your arms on his shoulders and his hands on your waist. It was when you were both laughing at his stupid statement.
“Can you send me that photo?”
“Why should I?”
He’s well aware of what she’s trying to do. It’s a business transaction, except for the lack of formality. She wants to get something in return, and he knows exactly what it is. 
“You’re good.” He admits with an impressed glint in his eyes.
“I am. So what’ll it be?” He knows that she knows she has the upperhand of the negotiation. She could probably tell that there’s something going on with the two of you. It’s just a matter of deciding which information to give her. But he didn’t have the fortune of having too many options. He didn’t want to reveal the nature of your relationship before. He wasn’t sure of your feelings for him. He can only speak for himself. 
“Fine. I sorta like her.” 
Her eyes brighten up. “Aha! I knew it. You should totally ask her out, kay? You’re gonna have tall and beautiful babies.” She put one hand on her cheek and closed her eyes while screeching at her own daydream of you and him getting together. When she calms down, she sends you the image file. “For real though. I’ve never seen her like that,” she points to your dazzling face in laughter in the photo. 
“Hey. What’re you two talking about?” You’re back to your normal clothes, but your hair and makeup was still there. 
“Nothing. Let’s go now?” He spoke immediately before your nosy director could say something. He walks to your direction before heading out together. “Bye! Update me, Kuroo-san!” Mitsuki said as she waved goodbye. You couldn’t help but be curious on what he should update her about. 
The rain stopped so no more umbrella horseplay. When you both get inside his car, you immediately ask him, “What was that about?”
“Uhh. She asked if I wanted to do other modeling projects.”
“Do you?”
He didn’t hesitate before answering, “No. That sort of stuff is not for me. I only did it to piss you off.” He starts the engine, then pivots his body to face you. “I must say though. I enjoyed seeing you eyefuck me.” Just when you are getting used to the peaceful, non-smug Kuroo, his true personality kicks right back in. Good thing you took your time getting changed and basically just calmed yourself down. 
“Glad you did. That’s the most you can get from me after all.”
His smile turned upside down at your remark. “Tch.” Your lips tug upwards at the side from his lack of retaliation. 
“I haven’t told you yet, but it wasn’t my first modeling experience.” 
You’re a bit surprised. Even though he has the appearance of a model, you didn’t think he’d do it. You agree with what he said just a while ago. It wasn’t for him. He’s best at his job right now. 
He gets his phone and scrolls up. He must be looking for a photo to show you as proof. When you see his screen, your heart swells. It was you and him a year ago. The neckline of your shirt was pulled to your shoulder for a makeshift off-shoulder while he knotted his t-shirt to form a crop top. You two wore large smiles while posing silly in front of the cam. It was right after when you told him that you’re a model.
“I- you... umm. You kept these?” You swipe the screen and see every single photo you took that day. Not one was deleted. You remember the laughter and absurd joy behind each frame. 
“Yea. Why wouldn’t I?”
One more swipe and there’s no other photo after yours. That’s when you notice that the photos are in the Favorites album. You felt like you were about to tear up. You’ve never felt so cherished in your whole life. Even though you left without saying a proper goodbye and no indication of going back, he still kept them. You tried so hard to forget about him, yet there he was, keeping these small tokens of what you had - proof that you really had been a part of his life.You felt something inside you crumble piece by piece. You should be scared, but at the moment, you don’t feel any fear. Instead, you were enraptured. 
You can feel your cheeks hurting from how wide your grin is. You don’t bother hiding it from him. 
“Can you send these to me?” You turn to him with the smile still plastered on your face, but he frowns at your question. 
“Those photos came from you.” 
You look back at his phone, your big smile reduced into a faint one that’s traced with melancholy. “I deleted them when I went to the US.” If he asks why, you wouldn’t know how to answer. Fortunately, he doesn’t. He gets his phone back from your hand and fiddles with it a bit. A few seconds later, you hear a notification from your own phone. When you open it, all the photos are sent to you. 
He looks at you warmly, his face devoid of anything but heartfelt fondness. “There. Like you never got rid of them.”
---
You lie on your bed with bottomless thoughts that night. Kuroo’s words weighed more than they should in your head as you stare at the photos. 
You deleted them to completely erase any trace of his existence in your life. Now they’re back in your phone with not a single photo missing from the stack. Ironically, it’s also you who asked for them back. Yet, you don’t mind. You came to accept that those memories existed. They happened. There’s no use trying to forget they did when he’s already back in your life anyways.
Looking at you and Kuroo in the images, you can’t avoid thinking how simple those times were. You were just two cool people who had sex for fun. You had no clue things would happen as they did - falling for him, leaving, and for some reason - destiny or whatever, meeting him again. The past you tried to leave behind crept up to you and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.
You thought you’ve moved on. You’ve thoroughly convinced yourself that you’ve disposed of all unnecessary emotions that involved Kuroo. You thought that whatever it is that you felt when you met him again was just remnants of yesterday. You were so wrong. That‘s just what you tried to tell yourself, repeating the idea over and over in your head until you believed it. 
But it never really happened. You haven’t forgotten about him. When you went on dates in the U.S., you’d remember him. So you stopped trying to see anyone and attributed that to being scared of getting hurt again. Hence, you shut yourself out to anyone until you no longer found dating to be interesting. You told yourself getting in a relationship would just get in the way of your career. 
That wasn’t true. 
The truth is just as he said. Your feelings for him are still there, you never did get rid of them. The question now is how to proceed from here.
You jerk when your phone rings right at your hand. 
‘Kuroo’
You don’t want to answer it. You basically just admitted to yourself that you’re still in love with him. Hearing his voice right now would be dangerous for your fragile heart.
But it might be something important. He doesn’t usually call.
You press the answer button. You were about to say hello, but your heart was beating so fast that you were unable to get any word out.
“Hello?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat so you could speak. “Yeah?”
“Is something wrong? You sound a bit off?” How he could tell even through a phone call is unbelievable. “Everything’s fine. Why’d you call anyways?” You do your best to sound normal. “Block your Thursday next week. I’m throwing a party.”
“What for?”
“Mmm. Just felt like having one.”
You minimize the call to check your calendar if you had any plans that day. “Alright. I have an event in the morning, but that night’s free.”
“Nice!!” He sounded a bit too glad. 
“Is that why you called?” It’s a bit suspicious that he rang you just for that. It’s just a party. He could’ve texted you instead. 
“Why? Am I not allowed to call when I want to?” Your heart skips a beat from the playful tone in his voice. You picture him smirking on his phone while he’s lying in bed. You bite your lip at the image in your head. 
Screw you and your stupid imagination. 
“Good night, Kuroo.” You said dismissively. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to say anything else important anyways. He chuckles from the other line before speaking so ever softly with tenderness that gives you butterflies in your stomach.
“Good night, kitten.” 
It was just a simple good night but you were reeling. You fight the smile that was forcing itself to form on your lips. You look at your photos one more time and sigh. 
You are so in love with him. 
On the other end, Kuroo is all smiles to himself. Nothing beats hearing your voice after a long day. Once again, he stares at the photo Mitsuki gave him that afternoon. He wishes it was real. He wishes you were smiling for him, laughing with him, and happy with him. If only you gave any indication that you like him more than a friend, he would’ve made his move. 
Even though he knows you still desire him, he wouldn’t settle for just sex. He doesn’t want a repeat of the past. He wants something further than that and more importantly, you deserve better than that. But so far, he could tell you were enjoying the friendship and companionship only. Even if he wanted to take things forward, he’s not sure that that’s what you want. You haven’t given anything away for him to make his move. He doesn’t want to risk it and have you running for the hills. 
Will he ever make you fall for him? Should he just leave things as is or do something bolder for you to realize that to him, you’re not just a friend?
He sighs. 
He’s so in love with you.
Part 6 | Part 8 |  m.list
taglist: @lia-faerie-queen​ @mkkhaikyuu @fastidious-and-precise @winunk @feelkindahorny @cece-lives-here @babythotshq​ @arendizzle​
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fivesevenseveneight · 4 years
Text
Second Chances: Part 2
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Word Count: 696
Fandom: Sanders Sides
Characters: Remus
Pairings: eventual anxceitmus
Warnings: references to violence, fire, religious references
A/n: Guys!! My next chapter!! I’m really happy about this okay it’s awesome :D I wasn’t expecting the first chapter to get as much attention as it did (relatively, it wasn’t that much but for me it means a lot) and I’m really glad that people liked it (regardless of how few people that actually was)! So here’s the next bit! (For a little more context, each chapter is going to focus on one character in the order of Virgil, then Remus, then Deceit. Which means Deceit is next! I’m v excited for y’all to read that one, it’s my fave so far.) Please lmk if I need to add any warnings or if you want to be tagged. Thanks again to @iosonnounpanne for the help with editing. You’re amazing and ily ❤️
Remus never met his soulmate. All he ever knew about them, whoever they were, was that they must have had the soulmark of a pale green moon on their right shoulder, one that perfectly matched Remus’s.
Remus didn’t know why the soulmark on his shoulder suddenly developed the ominous black X that now adorned it like unwanted graffiti. He just knew that it had appeared soon after his twenty-first birthday.
Maybe his soulmate had died. Maybe they decided they didn’t want a soulmate anymore. Maybe the universe just made a mistake.
Even before Remus lost his soulmate bond, people had given him trouble for having not found his soulmate yet. Remus had never understood why people thought it was so important that he be with his soulmate so quickly. But it was all anyone else seemed to care about. People he knew would constantly ask him if there was anything “interesting” going on in his life, and if he’d “met anyone special lately”. He always responded with a strong “no”, usually through gritted teeth that bit back whatever choice words he wanted to add.
Remus didn’t tell anyone for the first few weeks after the X appeared on his soulmark. He was still a bit in shock over it. He felt like he’d lost a piece of himself that day. His soulmate was nothing more than a stranger, and Remus had never been exactly eager to meet them, but he still felt a strange sense of loss at the prospect that they would never become anything other than a vague, lost possibility.
But Remus’s secret was bound to come out eventually. One day, during his shift at the pet store, one of the heaters for the reptile cages malfunctioned, setting an empty tank ablaze. Remus pulled off his shirt and smothered the fire, leaving no more damage than a bit of broken glass and some lightly scorched sand. When he heard gasps nearby, Remus thought it was because of the fire. But when he turned around to try to calm the startled customers, he saw that they weren’t staring at the burned cage, but instead at the soulmark on Remus’s shoulder—or rather, at what was covering it. Remus mumbled an apology, and stepped through the small crowd of people that had started to gather. They all cleared a wide path for him, as if he was Moses parting the Red Sea.
No, Remus thought. It’s like they’re hiding from the Black Plague and I’m a rat.
The room was silent, save for a few whispers in the small, huddled mass, but Remus heard the loud pounding of his heart ringing in his ears as he hurried away. The air suddenly seemed stuffy and unbreathable, but that was probably because Remus was running now. That was the only explanation. Of course. Remus grabbed his boss’s jacket off of a counter (it’s the middle of summer—why does that idiot have a jacket? Everyone should be staring at him; he’s the freak, not me. Not me.), throwing it on and bursting out the door. He ran, and kept running until he reached his apartment, where he was alone and safe.
None of Remus’s coworkers confronted him about the incident the next day. But they didn’t act quite the same from then on. They flinched when he walked up to them. They wouldn’t meet his eyes when he talked to them, but they stared holes into him when they thought he wasn’t looking.
He kept up the act for a few more months, pretending that nothing was wrong, and that things could go back to normal again. But it was pretty clear that Remus’s life would never be the same.
Eventually, Remus stopped caring. He stopped caring about the dirty looks shot from afar, the malicious laughs behind his back, and the hateful words people thought they could hide behind lowered voices and polite smiles.
Now, six years later, Remus almost always wore tank tops or sleeveless shirts, even when it was cold out; anything he could do to show off the X’d out soulmark on his shoulder—as if daring someone to confront him about it.
No one ever did.
Tags:
@sociallyanxious-1
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kinetic-elaboration · 5 years
Text
July 28: Braven, Man What the Hell Happened
Braven, 90s AU ~1000 words, for anonymous
90s/2000s song inspo: #149, Walkin’ on the Sun - Smash Mouth
I didn’t really know what to do with this, so secondary inspiration from the Daria episode “That Was Then, This is Dumb.”
This got longer than intended and so editing was, uh, extra minimal.
Currently taking requests for 90s/2000s inspired fics; send me a pairing and a number between 1 and 217 and I’ll write a scene based on a song from my Nostalgic Childhood Music Playlist
My tag list: @ciewill @dealingdreams @shadowheron2013 @julyrubyrose @wonderland-promises @hanav @rycewritestrash @thelittlefanpire @musicnote902 @stonybnatural @earthgay2052   (lmk if you would like to be added to or deleted from this list)
*
Everybody at the flea market is selling junk. Some of it is one, two generations old, and after twenty minutes of wandering through the aisles, Raven starts to feel like they're on a mission through time, a mission without a goal, a free-floating wandering through the rubbish of the past, searching perhaps for treasure, or just wiling away hours. Summer is reaching its peak, the days long and lazy, the noonday sun high and bright in a cloudless sky. For a while, she and Bellamy walk between the booths together, sometimes holding hands. She's not sure who reached for whose hand first or if she likes this development in things; his hand is sweaty, and she's not used to being tethered to anyone.
They pass by a table selling old jewelry, burnished bronze and gold, that makes Raven think of someone's great-aunt's closet, musty, old gilt-edged boxes covered in dust. Then they stop for a while at a booth selling a miscellany so random, so without categorization, and so old, that she's quite sure someone has died, and this is an unwanted inheritance. She knows something about that.
Later, they separate, for a time. The market is being held in the park and the grass, growing with abandon in the wildness of the season, catches at her ankles, a thick carpet beneath the soles of her sneakers. She finds a little tent selling second-hand books, and ducks in beneath the shade of it. Then sets to searching for a pattern to the makeshift shelves and the milk carton crates of old paperbacks, browned at the edges, eerie in the distorted gray light as it filters through the cloth walls. She's picking her way through a crate of old children's books from the seventies when she feels a light touch at her hip, and almost jumps.
She drops the book she's holding and turns.
Bellamy's hand slips around her waist, half-encircling her. He's wonderfully close in the heat and the dulled light of the sun.
"Kids books, Reyes?" he asks. "Is there something you want to tell me?"
"Funny," she huffs. She leans her hip back against the folding table, carefully, and he steps closer. He's still smirking, that half-smile she knows well because it was an expression he wore all the time, when they first met. Not that long ago. "I was looking to see if they have any of the books my grandmother used to have—" She breaks off, not caring to fully explain, glances down and sees that he's holding a couple records in his other hand, tucked in against his side. "Vinyl, Blake?" She quirks her eyebrows up. "Do you even own a record player?"
"Yeah, actually, I do." He scoffs, and steps back; she breathes a little easier, feels the heat of being so close rising belatedly to her cheeks. She's not embarrassed to be wrong. Somehow, now that he's said it, she isn't surprised. They haven't spent much time at his place, because he has roommates, and at least one of them always seems to be around. But she can picture his room, with its neatly made bed and messy bookshelves, and the record player in the corner, probably on the floor because he has no other place for it, and—
"Let me guess." She falls into step beside him again, slides her hand into his hand again. "You're into sixties rock. You like to lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling and listen to... Led Zeppelin. The Doors. And get high off Monty's stash—"
"That was one time."
The first time they met, sitting in the window seat in his living room with a view of the skyline at dusk, and every small moment grown large, like their fingers touching as he passed her the joint he'd inexpertly rolled, or their knees knocking together, or the smoky taste of his breath when he kissed her, and it felt first-kiss awkward and beautiful all at once.
"But I'm right about the rest of it," she says, and squeezes his hand.
Bellamy neither confirms nor denies, but as they step out into the full sheen of the sun, he squints against the brightness and says, "It just sounds different."
"Sounds like some weird nostalgia," Raven answers. "Do you really think the past was better?"
"I think people cared, more than they care now."
This answer is so vague and so beneath him that Raven almost calls him on it, except he winces, frustrated with himself, and tries again before she can.
"I mean—we're all so complacent now. I am, sometimes. Too often."
His voice drops, and he won't look at her, and Raven wonders if this is some sort of confession. Or something maybe that he's only working out for himself.
"What's that curse?" she says. Softer this time. "May you live in interesting times? Are you sure you're not just—wishing for interesting times?"
"That's the thing!" He glances over to her, and for a moment she sees that his eyes are animated and bright. "These are interesting times. The end of a millennium. But—Yeah, maybe I do wish more people knew we weren't living at the end of history."
His hand is large and warm in hers, palm sweating in the heat. Raven considers this for a long moment: the end of history. The illusion of security. Would she rather drop out of everything, braid flowers in her hair—drum circle in the park, or whatever people did, then, before they got disillusioned, dropped back in, put their old books and records and jewelry in boxes and crates and gave all of the past away to strangers, who are searching without knowing they are searching, with no narrative for searching?
"If this were the end, that would be pretty bleak," she says, at last. And before he can tell her that's not what I mean: "Let's go back to your place. I need to see this record player to believe it."
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