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strawbearytae · 2 years

Text

maniac pt.2: 100%

ex boyfriend!jjk x reader

genre: angst ft. Fluff

word count: 6.1 k

warning: drunk! jk, y/n cries a lot, Conan Gray songs (I like him don’t come at me), mentions of sexual themes, language (as always), slightly annoying plot but I got in THE FEELS™️ okay????

synopsis: a mutual breakup from your long term boyfriend leaves you inevitably devastated, but a unexpected collaboration may just be the breakthrough the two of you needed.

read part 1

“Fuck you.”

“That’s your job, love, not mine.”

🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶

To say that Jeon Jeongguk avoided you after the… ordeal… was the biggest understatement of understatements. The man disappeared. One moment you could see him on campus out of the corner of your eyes, then the next second: poof he dematerialized.

You thought about texting him, demanding him to… to… to what? Apologize? You weren’t sure if that was what you wanted. You were, afterall, going to kiss him if he hadn’t kissed you first…

Fuck… He was like a drug. You grazed your lips lightly with the tips of your own fingers… It was as if you had been clean for 9 months of him and that one single taste, that one single brush of his tantalizing lips against your own got you hooked once again. You craved him.

So, it was more than a surprise for you when you walked into your favorite library on campus to see Jeongguk behind the counter. Even more so since there was a girl in front of him who was obviously flirting with the man. And the world seemed to fade around you when you realized that Jeongguk had welcomed the flirting.

You shouldn’t feel upset, betrayed, queasy or anything even remotely close to what you were feeling. You had broken up; he was free to be with whoever he wanted. Free to meet, flirt and date whoever and whenever he wanted.

But the stabbing feeling in your gut couldn’t be ignored.

When you read romance in books, they always described this feeling as someone stabbing in your heart. But why was that? Your heart felt fine. It was beating stronger and faster if anything. However, your gut, your stomach felt hollow. A clawing feeling from the inside made you want to vomit. It was as if your body was telling you that something was wrong. That the pain of betrayal was physically excruciating.

Not that you were betrayed.

You were his ex, nothing less… nothing more.

You glanced over your shoulder once more as you exited the library, Jeongguk was watching you with a raised brow. The girl tugged on his sleeve for his attention once she realized it fled, he indulged her.

You slipped out of there silently.

///

The demo went successfully though you were half-afraid that Jeongguk would not show up. He did, he just didn’t acknowledge your presence. The professors from the music department congratulated you and were excited to see your performance in the next month. Jeongguk ate it all up while you stood there as if you were stoned, eyes glazing over as you watched Jeongguk interact with them with natural ease.

It was sickening.

Every time the conversation went to you, he went silent, Jeongguk looked around the demo room with an expression of faux curiosity. He masked his obvious distaste for the topic, you would’ve been fooled if you hadn’t been so tuned into his emotions before. Jeongguk was a master at masking his feelings… when he wanted to be.

“Y/N.”

You whipped your head up to see all the professors looking at you expectantly, even Jeongguk looked at you with a slight frown, “Sorry… What was the question?”

Professor Shin smiled, “Oh no worries, Y/N! We were just wondering if you had anything in mind after graduation. But that’s of no matter!” She looked at Jeongguk then back at you before smiling, “You both have been working so hard! No wonder you’re a little out of it.” She stepped back, calling the hoard of professors to retreat, “We’ll be looking forward to your performance, Y/N and Jeongguk.”

An inevitable breath escaped your lips when the professors were a safe distance away from the demo room. “You good?”

You almost yelped at Jeongguk’s voice; you had forgotten he was even there.

“Yes.” You turned away to gather your things, “Hey about-“

“Y’know the-“ He started at the same time.

You both stopped, staring at each other, “You go.”

“No, it’s okay. You go.”

“No, it’s okay…”

“Okay well…” His hand went to the back of his neck, “About the night at your apartment, when we kissed… that was-“

“A mistake,” You blurted, steeling yourself, “It was a mistake.”

Jeongguk’s expression was blank, “Right. Yes. That was what I was going to say. A mistake.” He drawled, dropping his han, “A mistake.” He enunciated, emphasizing each syllable, “Nothing more.”

You let out the breath you were holding in, “E-exactly.”

“We make so many mistakes, don’t we?” Jeongguk laughed grimly, “The kiss, this project and…”

This relationship.

He didn’t say it, but the words echoed in your brain. It was a mistake, wasn’t it? To love someone, to continue loving someone even when they didn’t love you back? That’s the greatest mistake we can make, a clash between our hearts and our minds. You shouldn’t feel this way, but you did. You chose to.

The silence was deafening.

“I…” You grabbed your things, quickly shoving them into your bag, “I’ll see you at rehearsal.”

Jeongguk studied you through the hoods of his eyes, his expression tense with a kind of aristocratic rigidity, “Fine.”

“Fine.”

You saw Jeongguk with the girl from the library around campus.

Her arms were always around him; she was always touching him (not that you were looking). Her fingers were always playing with his hair or the strings of his hoodie. Her legs were always over his as she sat on his lap. Her lips were usually grazing his collarbone or against the shell of his ear.

Those were the moments you wanted to wretch her hands off of him.

She didn’t know him.

She didn’t know that Jeongguk hated it when his hair was touched, he preferred light tugs on the strands at the base of his neck or the fact that he hated uneven strings in his hoodie (he would immediately fix them if they were asymmetrical after she tugged them, making you smirk silently…(not that you were looking)). She didn’t know that his stomach got cold easily and preferred legs around his waist when sitting on his lap. She didn’t know that he was ticklish on his collarbones and ears, that he preferred forehead kisses and nose scrunches rather than whispered secrets.

She didn’t know him.

But he still smiled when he looked at her. The does eyes scrunched upwards into an expression you had seen so often that you memorized it.

And it chilled you. They say heartbreak and anger are one, they are hot like fire lapping at your skin as tears formed in the corners of your eyes. But that wasn’t true, you were cold. Everything felt cold and empty, the memories of the warm body next to you had transformed into only mist of him. A cold ghost of memory that caressed your mind ever so often with hands you wished to escape from.

He was looking at you now, your eyes made the smallest sliver of contact that you held onto like a lifeline.

He didn’t let go. You wished he did, you didn’t want to be caught overanalyzing this moment hours later. But he didn’t let go. He held your gaze.

So, you broke it.

“Y/NnNnnNNnnNnNnNNnnNnnnnnNnnn.” Taehyung whined as he flopped on top of your bed, which usually wouldn’t be a problem except for the fact that you were still in it, “Let’s go! You can’t just spend your 22nd birthday in bed!”

You let out a muffled groan at the additional weight that was piled on you suddenly, “I don’t want to…”

“Come onnnnnnnnn.” Taehyung pulled you by the arm, dragging you slowly out of your covers, “You haven’t moved at all since you woke up.”

“A perfect way to spend a birthday.”

“Nonsense.” Taehyung succeeded pulling you out of your mattress, he kneeled over your body flopped on the floor, “Wake uppppppppppppppppppppp.”

“Nooooooo.”

“Y/NNnnnNnNnNNNnNnnN.” Your roommate continued to fuss.

“No.”

“I’ll do the dishes for a week.”

You head snapped up, “And the laundry?”

“Now we’re going too far. This is your birthday if you didn’t remember.”

You crawled back toward the bed, “Bye then.”

“Three days!”

“Five.”

Taehyung let out a sound that was between a yell and groan, “Four days! Final offer!”

You smiled; you were already planning to go the first time he asked anyway.

///

You shouldn’t have come.

The music in the frat house was loud and the lights blinding, your eyes went spotty with splashes of neon pink against the black of your eyelids every time you blinked. Taehyung tried to keep you engaged, pulling you to the living room that doubled as a dance floor, the bar, the dance floor, the bar over and over again even though he knew that you didn’t drink on your birthday.

You shouldn’t have come.

You didn’t even initially decide to come to the house anyway, you and Taehyung had dressed up for the cinema 10 minutes away, but the movie was cancelled, and the McDonald’s ice cream machine was broken. The house was plan c and the one you were least looking forward to.

Everything was too loud and too heavy, the air thick with the smell of underage drinking and sex. What a horrible way to spend your birthday.

You shook your head as you watched Taehyung being practically carried away by a group of football players, how an eccentric art student like him was able to be friends with all groups of kids baffled you sometimes.

Left alone to your own devices, you picked up some punch (which you were about 75% sure was spiked with vodka) before making your way upstairs to take a nap or do whatever to make the time go by faster. Taehyung was the one who drove you but seeing how much he’s been drinking; it seems like you wouldn’t be going home tonight at all.

Wandering the halls alone in a frat house was admittedly not your best idea but the desire to get away from the stench motivated you to open several rooms and be exposed to encounters and asscracks you could’ve gone your whole life without seeing.

After seeing a particularly risque encounter (you didn’t know people could bend like that in handcuffs), you had pratically lost all hope for the beloved nap. Sighing as you fought the urge to bang your head against the closet door, you leaned the back of your head against it as you stared at nothing...until a flashing pink dot started to jump against the black of the hallway.

It was Jeongguk.

It was a terrified Jeongguk.

It was a terrified Jeongguk in hot pink running towards you.

You froze as his eyes brightened in realization as he made his way towards you; in a flash of hot pink, he grabbed your wrist before pulling you along with him into the door you were contemplating banging your head against.

“Jeonggu-”

He pressed the rough pad of his fingertip against your lip, fingers that were covered in small calluses from all the times he would play his guitar as you baked in the back, “Shhhhh.”

This was the closest you’d ever been to him since the kiss-that-shall-not-be-named. The room was barely lit with fragments of light leaking from the doorframe’s gaps which highlighted his focused face in sharp shades. You thought about the moonlight: how it had danced around him in the earliest of nights months ago with his eyes twinkling in delight from your midnight escapades. They turned those brown eyes into pure honey.

With his chest against yours and his head leaned over your own to press his ear against the shut door you were unable to hear beyond the steady beat of his heart that your ear was pressed against; his soft breaths caressed your forehead as he leant past you to survey the sounds outside the door. The only thing that broke the silence were the occasional mumbles and shrieks of drunken girls and the hitching of your own breath.

The periodic silence allowed you to observe the room you had been pulled into, though you found it to be less of a room than you’d originally given it credit for. The floor and lower shelves were crammed with an assortment of shoeboxes and hidden vodka, the upper half was littered with winter coats and even more vodka. Jeongguk, in his panic from running away from whatever he was, had pulled the two of you into a closet.

Jeon fucking Jeongguk was wearing a hot pink set pulled you, his ex, into a closet in a frat house on your birthday.

Could this situation get any fucking weirder?

The silence hung thick in the air until you finally felt him relax against you, ”What the fuck was that?”

“Shh!” He pressed his finger against your lips before you snatched them away.

“Answers. Now.”

Jeongguk frowned and looked around his surroundings for the first time since he had pulled you both in.

“Jeongguk.” You gritted your teeth, praying to whichever deity that he couldn’t feel how uncomfortably hot you were getting, “Explain.”

“I’m hiding.”

“I’m hoping so because there is no other reason that you and I should be in a closet together, especially when you have a girlfriend.” You snapped.

Jeongguk frown slightly twitched before dissolving into a masked smirk, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“What-”

“We broke up two months ago. I’m hiding.”

Two months ago was your accident, not that it mattered. You filed that information in the back of your mind.

Your brows wrinkled at the recollection of the younger girl that had practically thrown herself against Jeongguk. She certainly did seem persistent but not someone Jeongguk couldn’t handle, “From her?”

“It seems that my charms are too addictive to some women.” His eyes flickered over to your own before he stepped back, allowing you to have your own inch of your personal bubble (thank you very much).

You pretended not to notice, “Why hot pink?”

“Why not?”

“You don’t wear hot pink.”

“And how would you know that?” He nearly sneered, “People change.”

“People change, they don’t transform.”

Jeongguk stayed silent for a moment as if he conceded, “It was a deal.” He grumbled, “Wear hot pink and she’d agreed to leave me alone.”

“Did it work?”

“Obviously not.”

You snorted and covered your mouth to stop the laughter that was escaping from your lips, “I’m sorry.” You wheezed, “But I can’t believe you fell for that trend.”

He raised a brow.

“True love in hot pink.” You wheezed between laughs.

Jeongguk’s face went blank before they went comically wide with realization, making you laugh even harder.

“Shut up! You’re going to get us caught!”

“’m sorry!” You wheezed, “Can’t elp it.”

At the noise of drunken singing (very off-key by the way), Jeongguk covered your mouth with his own palm and pushed his ear against the door, the sudden movement shocked you into silence. Jeongguk didn’t even seem to notice your laughter ceasing and only focused on the footsteps that barreled around your area, muffled female voices that were clearly looking for Jeongguk passed frequently around the closet.

Even though you didn’t do anything wrong, you trembled at the thought of being caught.

After a few heart-racing silences, Jeongguk whispered, “I think they’re gone.”

You nodded in response, tugging at the sleeve of his hot pink jumper to let you go.

“Oh sorry.” He shifted his hand away from your mouth but didn’t quite leave your face, his tattooed fingers still caressing your cheek and the calluses on his palms scratching your jawline lightly.

And you looked up to see galaxies.

“You-”

“Maniac.” He whispered, “You’re insane.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, “Am I?”

“Psychopath.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

Jeongguk grinned at the reference, “We had magic.”

“But you made it tragic.”

His smile disappeared, “did I?”

“I-”

“Why did we break up, Y/N?”

You didn’t say because you couldn’t... because you didn’t know why. You had reasons then, reasons that you had used to build a resume of persuasion to break it off with him. You swore you did; it was the fighting (didn’t you always make up though), the constant need for attention (but didn’t he give you space), the fear of abandonment (did he ever leave you?)

Yes.

Yes, he did.

“Because you wanted to.” You said bitterly, that was it. You only wanted it to end... because he did. You didn’t want to grab him, force him to stay, you let him go because he wanted to.

“I didn’t want to.” He whispered, “I won’t say there weren’t days where I wondered what it was like to be single again, but I never saw my life like... this.”

“This?”

“Ignoring each other like there was nothing.” He pulled on a curl that escaped your hair before he looked into your eyes with a type of desperation. As if he wanted you to please just understand, “Like it was a mistake. It was never a mistake.”

“Okay well…” His hand went to the back of his neck, “About the night at your apartment, when we kissed… that was-“

“A mistake,” You blurted, steeling yourself, “It was a mistake.”

Jeongguk’s expression was blank, “Right. Yes. That was what I was going to say. A mistake.”

“If anything,” His voice cracked, “It was the best decision I made.”

You don’t remember what possessed you to grab him, but that single confession sparked something inside you that drove you over the edge. You grasped his shirt before pulling him towards you, his lips seconds apart from brushing against your lips. His eyes widened at your sudden boldness before they shifted into something like hunger.

The hand that caressed your face tightened slightly against your jaw; his eyes flickered down to your lips before he slowly kissed you. It was almost as if he was breathing you in.

He kissed you with a kind of softness that you had missed, the kind that made you feel like there was no one else, nothing else and there will be nothing else in the future. He pressed against you with a timid sort of fervor that was new. Your kisses with him were usually sure and comfortable, but there was a side emerging that you’d never experienced before.

He tasted old and yet new. He tasted different than from months ago, a lover that knew how to mold your body in pliancy without making it routinely, making your blood ignite when he sucked on your bottom lip before trailing his lips away from your mouth to your neck. Every press of his lips left purple marks that screamed his presence, a reminder that made sure you couldn’t deny all of this and chalk it up to a delusion that this was all a dream in the morning.

You gasped when he bit down slightly on the base of your neck, you could feel his lips curve into a grin when he kissed the mark, “So you’d remember.”

You kissed him again. And again. And again.

///

“I’ve missed this.” Jeongguk muttered into your hair, he smelled of cheap alcohol and himself.

You snuggled closer to him on the couch, “Me too.”

The two of you left the frat party in a drunken haze, for you, it wasn’t from the drinking but from the kiss. You giggled as he stumbled into your apartment in clumsy blur. He pouted before he pulled you into him in response. You two ended up as a heap of laughter and sweat on the floor before he had hulled you on the couch where you were right now.

You didn’t care what you were to Jeongguk, not right now. Right now, you were in his arms with his scent filling your nose. You wanted to focus on that, focus on this moment before it evaporated in the morning.

You wished that this night would never end, that this bliss would go on forever. That your kisses would leave stains that lasted longer than the marks on your neck. You wanted this to last. You knew it wouldn’t, but your mind begged for it.

“Goodnight.” He whispered an end.

“Goodnight.”

///

The first thing you saw in your clearer state of mind was Taehyung screaming before tackling a tired-looking Jeongguk onto the floor.

No, that was actually the second thing. The first thing you noticed was the fact that Jeongguk was indeed shirtless and walking around in your apartment with pajama bottoms that he had left months ago. How he still remembered where the pajama bottoms were and the fact that they existed in your possessions was a question you filed away to ask later.

Right now, your roommate had to be calmed down before either one of them busted a blood vessel (or an eye, depending on how violent Taehyung was feeling today).

“Taehyung! What is wrong with you!?” You hauled your roommate away from Jeongguk who had a stupendous grin on his face. Fuck, you missed that- NOT THE TIME Y/N!

“What’s wrong with me?” Taehyung nearly scoffed, “I saved you from this foul, evil, little-” Taehyung pointed accusingly at Jeongguk, “RODENT from defaming you!”

You sent a pointed look at Jeongguk, “What did you say?”

Jeongguk batted his lashes before he shrugged, “I just said that I spent the night here.”

The response from Taehyung was almost automatic, “SEE!” He nearly stomped on the floor, “This... thing was walking around half-naked, looking freshly fucked while you were laying unconscious in a burrito state on our couch! What else was I supposed to assume except that he kidnapped you to our apartment before he decided to tuck you into the couch, so he had access to all the creepy ex-boyfriend material he want- Wait what is that on your neck?”

Your hand automatically slapped over the bite mark, “I- Um.”

“Did he hit you?” Taehyung nearly growled looking ready to fight Jeongguk once again.

“No! Taehyung calm down-”

“Wait why does it have little incisions-” His mouth snapped shut before his complexion visibly paled, “I-is that a hickey?”

“Taehyung,” You stepped toward him with raised hands, “I can explain-”

“Oh my god you did fuck him.” Taehyung turned automatically to Jeongguk, his voice deadly calm, “Use protection, I don’t want to be a godfather at 22.”

Jeongguk rolled his eyes, “You are not going to be the godfather of my kids.”

“Good, I’m going to be the godfather of Y/N’s kids so I’m glad my godchildren won’t be fuckboy spawns with piercings and guitar hands.” Taehyung rolled his eyes, “But if you hurt her again, I will not be against castrating you.” He threatened,

“Taehyung, we’re not fucking.” You pressed your fingers to your temple; it was much too early for this.

“Sure, and I 100% did not see you having a vampire kink considering the size of the bite on your neck.” Taehyung checked his watch, “I have class. Gotta go. Use condoms.”

And then he left.

Jeongguk looked up to you from the floor, he raised a brow suggestively, “So a vampire kink, huh?”

You kicked him in the balls.

///

“Jeongguk-” You tried through his kiss, “We have work- mph-”

“Later.”

///

Your day was horrid, not only did you wake up 10 minutes late, cursing the fact you were a woman. You had to run to your calculus lecture across campus with horrible cramps that made you want to cry with every step, your usual café ran out of your favorite drink, and Taehyung ate the last slice of cake.

It was international “fuck y/n” day apparently.

So, by the time you met Jeongguk at his dorm for practice (as you were doing so for the past 2 weeks), you were exhausted and snappy.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you today?” Jeongguk asked, pulling off his glasses after the 17th sarcastic comment and 5th snipped response you gave.

“Nothing.” You mumbled, “Just having a bad day.”

Jeongguk sighed before leaning back in his chair, his expression went blank for a few seconds before he leaned toward the table again, “There’s cupcakes in the fridge.”

You had to school your excitement, “What?”

“I thought it would be nice to surprise you later with cupcakes, but it seems like now’s the best time. Get up, we’re taking these to your apartment.”

“But what about-”

“Frankly, Y/N, we’ve gotten only 2 lines done in the last 40 minutes, we’re not very productive today.” He grabbed your scarf and wrapped it around you, “We’re going to go to your apartment and watch the rest of Business Proposal because Ahn Hyo Seop is fucking hot while pigging out on overpriced cupcakes, okay?”

“Okay.”

And that’s exactly what you two did.

///

“You probably need to reword this part again.”

“Mmm.”

“And this should probably be C natural and not C flat, it sounds a bit odd.”

“Mhmmm.”

“And this- Jeongguk please for the love of god stop kissing my neck!” You let out an exasperated sigh before pushing him off of you.

Jeongguk pouted, “I thought you liked me kissing you.”

“I don’t! I mean I do! Just not when I’m working- we're working.” Flashes of the last 10 minutes of making out with him on the couch with your notes astray on the floor spawned in your mind, “I mean sometimes it’s okay. But not when I’m focusing, but like I’m-” Jeongguk smirked, “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“No, do continue,” Jeongguk propped his head onto one of his knuckles, “I love hearing your rambles on how much you like kissing me.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s your job, love, not mine.”

You elbowed him in the stomach for that one.

///

“I hate this part.”

“Too bad.”

“You know when you had a bad day, I fed you cupcakes.” Jeongguk glared, “But when I have a bad day, you steal my house and my money?”

“You’re the one who wanted to play this stupid game,” You threw a spare dollar at him. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. You only did this to yourself.”

“Don’t gaslight me!” He whined, “AND GIVE ME BACK THE BOARDWALK!”

“NO!”

You lunged for your cards as he reached for them, he tried to wrestle them out of your grasp causing the two of you to roll around on the monopoly board. Your empire, fed by Jeongguk’s bankruptcy, fell apart.

“Yes!” He screeched when he finally pulled the battered card out of your grasp, “I win!” He pressed a kiss against your lips.

“That’s not how the game works.” You glared once he pulled away.

“Well, I get to do this, so I think I’m the winner.” He said before his lips met yours once again, little did he realize that you believed you were the true winner for that.

///

“Hey, so remember Jungshin?” Jeongguk murmured from behind you. The two of you had put on a movie after a rather heated game of UNO (which turned into a rather heated makeout session but that was of no matter). It was a movie you had already watched before, a rather boring one at that (something about a kid and his dead hamster... or was it a hamster and its dead human?) but with Jeongguk’s arm around your waist and his nose buried in your hair, even the most boring movie seemed bearable.

“Yeah...” You muttered absent-mindedly as the kid (not the hamster) started to wail on screen.

“He’s getting married.”

“Isn’t he like 24?”

“Yeah.” You could feel Jeongguk shaking his head, “Insane to be married that young. But I need a plus one. Wanna come?”

“When is it?”

“January.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You liked Jungshin, that shouldn’t be too much of a problem. It was then that it hit you, “Jeongguk.”

“Hm?” He murmured as he pressed a kiss on the shell of your ear,

“What are we?”

Jeongguk froze from behind you.

Well, that was an answer.

You sat up, throwing Jeongguk’s arm away from your body, “Jeongguk...” You tried calmly, “what are we doing?”

His expression went blank, “What do you mean?”

“We- you- I-” You let out a frustrated sigh before standing up to face him, “We cuddle, we kiss-”

“We do more than just kiss.”

You rolled your eyes, “We make out, we go on little dates, and you always come over.” You listed them off your fingers, “And now, you want me to go to a wedding with you. Jeongguk, what are we doing? What are we?”

He reached for you, “Y/N-”

You stepped back, “Because I would consider this dating.”

Perhaps you were looking into this too much. Yes, perhaps you were, but could anyone blame you? In the 2 months that you and Jeongguk have been... doing this, there wasn’t a single label. You didn’t call each other anything, you just were... You desperately wanted it. You wanted to be wanted by him.

But the two of you never talked about the breakup. You glazed over it like it never happened and you could see way: it was messy. It was crazy. Unpleasant.

His face dropped and with that, your heart shattered. “I guess you don’t think the same way.”

“Y/N, no I-”

“Jeongguk,” You looked away, “I don’t think I can look at you right now, I need time. You need time.”

“Y/N-”

“Jeongguk.” You swallowed the knot in your throat, “I like you, sometimes I think a little too much. And that honestly scares me because we’ve done this before.” You looked straight at him, watching the light in his eyes shatter as you continued, “And it didn’t end well. But I know that if you don’t walk out of those doors right now, I will give you my heart over and over and over again. I will let you bruise it, shatter it and completely demolish it, but I’d still hand it to you again with a kiss.” Your lips trembled, “And I don’t want to start something without having a sure answer from you that you’d be committed. I’m not even asking for 100% just 90, maybe not even that. But I don’t want to start this and beg you to stay, I can’t handle that from you. Not again.”

His mouth clamped shut and you couldn’t blame him; it was a low blow, really, to bring up the breakup. But it was true, you wouldn’t be able to handle that type of heartbreak from Jeongguk for a second time, not when you were still recovering from the first.

“Please get out. I can’t do this right now.” You bowed your head, forcing the tears from releasing.

They unleashed like a storm at the shut of the door.

----

You didn’t talk for days.

Again.

---

Jeongguk <3: Hey

You: Hi

Jeongguk: I’m sorry

You: I know.

Jeongguk: I need time.

You: I know.

You saw Jeongguk around campus, he waved to you. You waved back.

Sometimes, you thought that was worse than when the two of you had ignored each other. He wasn’t a stranger, not anymore. But he wasn’t a friend either. He was another generic face in the crowd that you were friendly with rather than another stranger.

Faux friendliness, fake smiles and avoiding glances across the room.

Why was it so hard? It had only been two weeks, but the hole he left in your life was too noticeable. A Jeongguk-sized hole that he could only fill.

And in a twisted way... you wished he felt that same emptiness in his heart with you.

Ex: Are we going to continue the recording?

You: Festival is around 3 months away

Ex: Okay

You: Okay

Ex: You looked wretty today

Ex: I mean fuck tou always do

Ex: I’m wsirry

Ex: I still lpve you

// Ex: sorry about yesterday

Ex: I was drunk

You: It’s okay

You: I was drunk too

“Are you sure you’ll be okay alone?” Taehyung asked as he shrugged on his coat.

It had been 2 weeks since Jeongguk’s last text, 3 since you had asked him to take time.

Maybe you had been too harsh on him.

“I’ll be fine.” You waved Taehyung away as you started another episode of Squid Game, “I don’t even like drinking, go have fun with Jimin.”

“Okay.” Taehyung hesitated before opening the door, “You looked happy y’know?”

“Hm?”

“As much as I hate to give that douchebag any credit,” Taehyung curled his bottom lip, “You looked happy when you were with him. I know it’s not my place, but Y/N... You glowed.”

It was around 11 pm when Taehyung started pounding on your door, you rolled your eyes as you contemplated whether to leave your roommate in his drunken haze outside your apartment. Well it was his fault for not taking his keys...

Deciding to be a dutiful roommate, you unlocked the door, “Taehyung, I swear if you throw up on my good shoes again-”

“I don’t think I want to throw up on your shoes.” Jeongguk replied, “Or you actually.”

Jeongguk.

With a shovel and a rose.

You stared. It had been weeks since the two of you had a conversation and here he was at your door, holding a shovel and a rose to match the song that you two had been working on.

“Is this a joke?” You asked much too snappily than you would’ve liked.

You had imagined this moment, the moment when Jeongguk gave you an answer, but never like this. Never when you were sitting in a ratty old hoodie and ill-fitting pajama bottoms, never with him leaning the shovel outside your door while grasping the rose so delicately. Never with him looking into your eyes full of the determination of a soldier.

“No,” He replied calmly.

“Then what is this?”

“A confession. If you’d let me.”

Your knees went weak but you still narrowed your eyes at him. Jeongguk wasn’t a man of many words and right now, despite your longing to bury yourself into his chest, you wanted to hear the right words from him.

You leaned against the doorframe and crossed your arms, “Go on then.”

“I don’t know.” Jeongguk started, “I thought about for weeks, Y/N. But I don’t know what to call us.”

Your heart sunk a little.

“But I know what I want to call you.” He whispered, “I want to call you my girlfriend but that word isn’t enough to describe how I feel, Y/N. You- I...” He took a deep breath, “Fuck, I had I script but I can’t even remember it now.” He laughed to himself grimly.

You curled your lip to keep yourself from laughing endearingly. You had to have an answer from him, you needed his word.

“It’s you.” He muttered, “I cannot describe it beyond that, it’s you and it will always be you. Those nights that I wondered if this was enough, if this was love showed me nothing but the fact that it is you.” He finally looked at you, “I don’t believe in true love, but with you, I want to give it a shot because when I see you, Y/N fuck, I want you in any capacity you’d have me. I’m late. I know. You can kick me to the curb, I’d hand you the shovel to bury me and the rose to put on my grave eagerly if you think that’s what I deserve. I’ll take whatever you give me. I’ll hand you my heart, I’ll let you trample on it, bruise it and shatter it and I will still hand it to you even if you stop handing me yours.”

“Because Y/N...” He nearly whispered, “I’m not sure 100%, I will never be sure 100% but I’ll give you my 99, my 99.9999 because... I think I love you.”

You wanted to capture this moment, the way he looked at you right now... you wanted it to last forever. And perhaps, it would.

“I’ll take it.” You whispered, stepping towards him, “Your 90, your 99, your 99.999 and that 1 percent that .0001 percent that you’re in doubt, I’ll fill that 1 percent up. Because Jeongguk...” Your hands grazed the back of his neck as he continued to stare, “I think I love you too.”

And you kissed him.

“Only 1 percent?” He smiled cheekily against your lips.

“No, you idiot, 100%… together.”

Being with him was a gamble, one that you could lose but you’d take it anyway. There was no 100% guarantee of success, but perhaps, you could make it the closest to it together.

end pt 2/2

a/n: I have nothing to say for myself. It’s been some time-

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vendetta-if · 1 year

Text

Chapter 6 Part 1 Sneak Peek (Pt. 1)

Hey guys 👋 Time for the very first sneak peek at Chapter 6 Part 1. I still have one more sneak peek for Chapter 6 Part 1 that I will release as we get closer to the public update date on 22nd of April (GMT +8).

This sneak peek is a little unique because it's mostly written in text chat message format 😄 As some of you might already be aware, you'll be able to choose a group chat name for MC and the gang or input your own. Below is some snippet on the choices 😆

Chapter 6 Part 1 Early Access demo is now up on both Patreon and Ko-fi!

* * * * *

The annoying sound cuts through the silence, anchoring you more and more to the waking world. Trying to block it is futile as it continues. After a few more times, you finally turn back around and reach for the source—your phone that is charged beside your bed. Unplugging the charger, you bring the phone close to your face, eyes squinted as you check the notification tray.

Oh, it's the group chat that you made last night, being active. Quickly opening your Whazzapp, you backread the chat.

Today [12:27 AM] You: "Hey guys, are you free to meet up tomorrow? Maybe around noon or so? I've got something important to share."

[02:01 AM] Santana: "I'm always available to work on the case. Just let me know the location like half an hour before at the least because I'll need some time to walk to the nearest subway station."

[09:05 AM] Rin: "I've cleared up my schedule for the day, so I hope it's for something urgent and important."

[10:03 AM] Skylar: "Sure! I'm free today. Where are we hanging out, gang?"

[10:10 AM] Skylar: "You know what, we should totally find a name for our newly-made group chat. Saying 'little investigation group' is kind of a mouthful. I've been brainstorming some names these past few minutes, and I think I've got a good one. How about 'Fabulous Four'?"

[10:12 AM] Rin: "I don't think it's a good name, but at least it's different enough to avoid copyright infringement."

[10:12 AM] Skylar: "Glad we're of the same mind."

[10:13 AM] Rin: "Same mind? I doubt that. I literally just told you that it's not a good name. I think it's a bit cheesy tbh."

[10:13 AM] Ash: "Jesus Christ, can you guys shut up for another half an hour or what? Some people are still asleep. Well, I was until I got woken up by all the buzzing."

[10:14 AM] Ash: "Also, 'Fabulous Four' is a stupid name. And can't you count? We're a five-people team now."

[10:14 AM] Skylar: "Wait, five? So, if you're the grumpy redhead I met yesterday, then who's the other person I've been talking to? I can only see your phone numbers."

[10:15 AM] Skylar: "And no problem. We'll be 'Fabulous Five' instead! The more the merrier."

[10:16 AM] Rin: "I'm not introducing myself over a group chat message. We'll do a proper introduction in person later on."

[10:16 AM] Skylar: "Fair enough. I'll see you later then!"

[10:17 AM] Ash: "Ngl, 'Fabulous Five' still sounds dumb."

[10:18 AM] Skylar: "Clearly, you're just a hater. Instead of casting the first stone, how about you try coming up with another name then?"

Well, it seems like Ash is ignoring Skylar because that's where the chat ends for now. Checking the time, you see that it's already 10:24 AM. Well, maybe it's time to reply to some of the messages in the chat before doing anything else. Plus, it's an excuse to stay in bed a little bit longer.

* * * * *

Okay, next order of business, the group chat name that Skylar and Ash were arguing about. You kinda agree with Skylar that 'little investigation group' is far from the best or the catchiest name ever. Although, you're not really sure how you feel about ${sky_his} suggested name, 'Fabulous Five', right now. Maybe you have a better name in mind?

CHOICE

#I'll stick to 'Fabulous Five'. #'Elysium Cleanup Crew' #'The Vendetta Project' #'The Revengers' #'The Justiciars' #'Justice Squad Chat' #None of these.

* * * * *

#I'll stick to 'Fabulous Five'.

After pondering more on the name Skylar suggested, you decide that it's actually good enough and you actually like it. It's growing on you in the past few minutes of contemplation. Tapping on ${sky_his} message, you reply:

EMOTIONAL MC [10:32 AM] You: "'Fabulous Five' actually sounds awesome. Let's go with that!"

STOIC MC [10:32 AM] You: "'Fabulous Five' is not so bad. Let's just go with that."

[10:32 AM] Skylar: "Hell yeah! I knew it! I knew it's an amazing and genius name."

[10:33 AM] Rin: "…"

You can practically feel Rin judging you through the screen just from the three dots.

SARCATIC MC [10:33 AM] You: "Okay, calling it 'genius' might be pushing it a bit too far. Let's dial it back a bit."

GENUINE MC[10:33 AM] You: "I wouldn't really use the word 'genius' per se…"

[10:34 AM] Skylar: "Aww… Alright. I still think it's a compliment tho."

You navigate to the group chat setting to change the group name to 'Fabulous Five' before going back to the group chat.

GENUINE MC [10:35 AM] You: "Okay, there. It's done."

[10:35 AM] Skylar: "Whoo 🎉🎉 We're officially 'Fabulous Five' now. No complaining 😉"

[10:36 AM] Ash: "Fuck! Fine…"

SARCASTIC MC [10:35 AM] You: "There. We're officially 'Fabulous Five' now. No complaining."

[10:35 AM] Skylar: "Whoo 🎉🎉 You hear that, you grump?"

[10:36 AM] Ash: "Fuck! Fine…"

Chuckling quietly to yourself, you lock your phone and get off the bed in one smooth movement.

#writing updates #writing update #sneak peek #chapter 6 #if: vendetta #vendetta if #if vendetta #if game #if wip #dashingdon #choicescript #choice of games #hosted games #cyoa #cyoa game #interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive story #interactive games

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evil8keta · 2 years

Note

Hoe your doing alright:D

Can i have the mercs reacting to the reader making dumb jokes like "OMG YOU HAVE LIGMA.." "LIGMA BALLZ🤣‼️" LMFAO SORRY IF ITS WEIRD😇

mercs x reader who has ligma

SCOUT

- thinks you're hilarious asf and literally bursts into laughter whenever you use a yo mama joke on somebody. however when you use a joke like that on him he stops laughing immediately and looks at you with a straight face.... like how DARE YOU do this to him. also he's definetely gonna unknowingly copy you so now there's two people in the base making annoying jokes. yay

PYRO

- they do NOT understand any of your jokes and they don't even bother asking you to explain. pyro is just glad to see you happy so chances are they're going to laugh with you, even if they don't know WHY lol. they just like seeing you laugh yknow!!!

SOLDIER

- like pyro, he does NOT understand the joke. you're gonna have to explain it to him in great detail but after that he's gonna laugh. VERY LOUDLY. this cycle repeats everytime you use one of your epic awesome jokes. he asks you what it means, you explain, he laughs. "CADET! EXPLAIN!" (insert painfully long explanation that even someone like soldier can understand) "HAHAHA! THAT IS VERY FUNNY" it sounds sarcastic over text but this is his honest reaction i promise

HEAVY

- ohhh PLEASE don't use these jokes on heavy please look at this poor man. look at him. bro is just chilling, eating a sandvich.... are you really going to ruin his day with a candace joke?? /hj no but fr he's gonna be SO confused. like he does understand the punchline, but WHY do you find this funny? everytime you make a joke like that in front of him there's just one big cartoony question mark next to his head...

DEMOMAN

- loves you fr fr, like genuinely he thinks you're the funniest person EVER. doesn't matter if you use these jokes on him or on someone else, demo's gonna bend over laughing and slap his knee like that was the smartest joke he's ever heard. you received the title of his "funny friend", so everytime he invites you and the others to drink he boasts about how funny you are and how everyone needs to see for themselves

ENGINEER

- ohh he also loves you and your jokes, he's just not very vocal about it. he's smart so he gets the punchline immediately, and after a while of you saying these jokes to him, he's gonna get pretty good at guessing the patterns. engie even thinks of new jokes for you to use like DAMN you got yourself a professional joke composer

MEDIC

- surprisingly?? he finds your jokes hilarious?? he's old and insane but funnily enough your deez nuts jokes make this doctor giggle. he likes quoting your jokes when he's operating on other people, it really makes the surgery go by quicker! :D he will also boast about you to his patients. "oh yes zhey are SO funny you just have to meet zhem!" he says as he accidentally puts the liver of someone else into the wrong body. AGAIN

SPY

- HATES your jokes, he thinks they're annoying. also he's too smart to fall for them so i recommend to just give up on him. everytime you try to say something funny spy just scoffs and pretends to ignore you smh. BUT, whenever you use a ligma joke on scout and he falls for it, spy laughs. like bro is not even trying to be subtle, he just starts cackling. was it your joke that made him laugh or was it scout's stupidity? who knows. but he DID laugh

SNIPER

- hates your jokes, like ACTUALLY hates them. one time, back when you two weren't that close yet, he even pointed his kukri at you because you kept saying amogus or something. that's in the past though, he's a changed man. whenever you want to joke with him now he just looks you dead in the eye like "...you're going to say joe mama, aren't you". he loves you tho, so he DOES tolerate your epic awesome jokes.....FOR NOW!

#team fortress 2 #tf2 x reader #headcanons #keta writes

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shai-manahan · 2 years

Note

aight im finally back on track with the theories ! (p.s. warning some of them might sound downright crazy or bullshit)

1. so i assume with all available information (or maybe I'm just too oblivious) vincent is currently still working for the marshal, which makes me wonder just how much a bad bitch they for literally every one of MC's companions to warn them against them 🤔🤔🤔🤔 aside from the countless arrests they have done illegally, which doesn't seem too bad considering they were all bad guys i guess, SO IT BRINGS ME TO MY FIRST THEORY that maybe everything from the super secret mission MC got in the very beginning of the story to Bale's death might have just been an extremely elaborate plan go bring them right under the marshals thumb to make them just another of their pawns like vincent, maybe they're doing it for MCs skills or maybe for the hospital that Alex is running which just gives off super sus vibes to me again, OR MAYBE ... JUST MAYBE it has something to do with the hallucinations? maybe they want something or some info that only our MC knows but forgot about after some of their memories were suppressed they couldn't remember it so they want them under their command to have access to it

2. after taking a closer look at the previous and current demo it seems both alex and Vincent are aware of the MC's 'whatever that black out was' plus that bad PTSD attack i believe after alex sent them upstairs, so maybe they know something or are hidding something from the MC doesn't know and are trying to them shield them from the truth in case it breaks them, mentally i mean. maybe Vincent is the only one who is aware of MC's occasional disassociation therefore the understanding look they gave them

3. and now here im wondering what the hell did MC do with the little bottle of that sus liquid they found on Landry after ignoring Callie/Lucas's warning and rushing in to save them. makes me wonder maybe it's some kind of new potent drug that are planning to distributing. and maybe MC's father had something to do with and maybe he had a bad fallout with Bale for which he tried running away with his research but was unfortunately gunned down by his wife for

NOW AN ASK (or is it ask's?)

1. i wonder why everyone seems to hate Vincent? or is it just alex? he seems like a cool dude to be around plus a nice step-father/guardian

2. will we get the choice to maybe bitch slap or atleast thrash Wesley a little(maybe bernard too i don't mind they just get on my nerves) after our little reunion somewhere in the future? i want my MC to bitch slap them maybe once for Finn to go "huh maybe i do deserve it" only to get slapped HARDER next time "ok ok i do deserve it" before finally listening to their side of the story? sorry finn i love you but i hate you for that little expose stunt of yours

3. i wonder if we will have a poly route ... ARGH IM TORN BETWEEN ALONZO (who obviously hates my guts but whatever its not gonna deter me for my enemies to lovers journey) AND FINN (IMAGINE THE ANGST AHHHHHHHHHHH)

4. *puts on a dark and brooding look on* ARNEL AND VINCENT MEET WHEN... *tries fo hide the fact that i suck at picking up clues*

5. will we ever be able to truly express ourselves to Alex? 😭😭😭 I KNOW THEY'RE SUS BUT THEY'RE SUCH A SWEET BROTHER I CAN'T HELP BUT FEEL BAD EVERYTIME I HIDE SOMETHING OR SAY SOMETHING SLIGHTLY MEAN TO THEM 😭😭😭

ANYWAYS SORRY FOR THE LONG ASK ONCE AGAIN I KNOW I DON'T MAKE SENSE HALF OF THE TIME BUT WHATEVER

Look, I love receiving long asks, especially those with theories 👀👀no need to apologize!

What I can say here is that a lot of the things occurring at the present are vastly connected to each other :) Also, you might get an insight next update as to why the marshal and her agents are hated by MC's companions.

Getting closer 👀

Whatever clue the MC got in Chapter 1 was actually mentioned in Chapter 2, and the MC brought it along with them (if that small bit of text didn't appear, that may have been a bug lmao). You'll slowly get to learn more about them, and sometime in the future, there might be a whole chapter dedicated to it :))) Those who have remained in the car will still get a separate unique route, of course. I can't say anything else about the rest of that paragraph because of the massive spoilers but, interesting :)

For your questions:

Not everyone hates Vincent. Some folks mostly avoid him because of his connection to the marshal, but that's it. People don't hate him the way they hate the MC. For Alex's reason... well, let's just say Vincent would agree that he's got a very valid one.

You'll get to do a lot; they'll also get to do a lot, though. Oh, and Bertrand... that man will just keep getting on your nerves, I think.

Ah, apologies, that will never happen for Alonzo and Wesley. Alonzo might tolerate Wesley but... they'd never be close friends even. Perhaps there will be respect, but never friendship. It's just, too complicated. We'll see if I can handle a poly route for another pairing. I actually have something in mind, but tbh I don't think I could handle the coding side of it.

Arnel is one of my favorite characters, personally. I'm not sure if y'all will love him, but you'll definitely get plenty of chances to meet him. He's got a very significant role in the story, after all. Their banters are also quite amusing lmao.

You will! There will be a huge conversation between Alex and the MC in a future chapter, and your choices there might have an influence on which Book 1 ending you'll be getting 👀

#interactive fiction #hollowed minds theories #hollowed minds series #hollowed minds #hollowed minds book one #theories #choicescript #if wip #wip #writing #interactive novel #interactive game #dashingdon #cscript #cyoa #ask #taconextdoor

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gabrielle-writes · 7 months

Text

Devlog 9 - 03/11/2023

LINK FOR DEMO | PLAYLIST

Wow. This month was way better than last, I can say. Chapter 2 for the Necromancer is at 26k words, in between text, code, stat and relationship variation. Almost 16k words more than last month. There are some things that will be polished once the entirety of the chapter is ready, some coding that will need to be done (when you think you accounted for all possible variables beforehand but as you write you discover that no, it was just illusion and you need to create more) and so on, but for now, the first event in the Chapter 2 - Necromancer is ready, so it's time to start writing the Chapter 2 - Undead :D

Despite all the troubles in the beginning to find the right balance for the first interaction (and the heat, it has finally gone away

), I'm glad with what I managed to do and with all the variations, and the ones if you are as sarcastic as Gehfeer were really fun - writing Roseis getting pissed off if both you and Gehfeer are sarcastic was also surprisingly fun.

At the same time, it was tiring in the coding and flavor-text variation side of things, since I decided that choices related to romance will be available at different times than the other - as I said in an ask once, I want the possibility of Annoying-to-Lovers (and Friends-Lovers, Rival-to-Lovers, and Hate-to-Lovers, ooops

) and it's easier to write and code if they are chosen and counted separated. It's not something that I pretend to repeat in so much detail in any future IF with more than one RO at a single time, but with Walking on My Grave, where it's really one RO? I think it really adds to the story.

There are already more feats of magic that the Necromancer perform, this time in more... Dire situations, that will give a good sense of what Bravien Mages, specially Morttatios, can do. They were a little bit hard to write and describe without going on and on, and there is a possibility that later I'll try to trimm them up a bit, but for now I won't touch them.

(as a bonus, a screenshot of one of the possible interaction plus Roseis being pissed off at you :D. Ignore the year in this, I noticed today that I had used the wrong counting system for this chapter and I haven't started the test save again)

I think that's it for now. Thank you for the patience and everything! Love you all and have a great month!

LINK FOR DEMO | PLAYLIST

#walking on my grave #womg #devlog #twine wip #if wip #writing

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emailrulesposting · 7 months

Text

Vent? below

I might be comfy sharing more later on. For now I guess I'll share things in a slightly coded manner.

Last night I had three dreams where someone who isnt't real (please stick with me) infiltrated my dream (GOD that one ellicited a vine boom sound effect) and "infiltrated"(???) it. It feels like something I wrote coming back to haunt me but it is based on something In My Brain considers important. Gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross gross! Sorry had to get that had lol What am I even saying I totally see why people think my mind has been lost.

I planned to say it in a slightly humorous way this morning but procrastinated doing it on here. I'm not entirely sure what's going on wait what's the word count on this who am I again? Oh where'd that come from um? I'm not sure? I'll just... ignore... it? Yeah I will okay we're good I'm not sure how to figure out the word count I guess I could Google it on my PC. THE CHARACTER LIMIT IS WHAT NOW??? HOW MANY ZEROES? Holy shit we're probs about to be here for a little bit longer. It's actually crazy wait stream of thought is something so wild. Probably because of the way I think WHY ARE YOU HERE oh sorry about that! Interesting thats editable

Oh my God I could just post to text and make I'M THINKING CLOSER TO WORDS!!!!!!! THAT'S WHY IT'S EASIER TO WRITE!!! OMFG!!!! This is good information for the future. oh my god. The future. I'm not sure what that's going to be like... not based on what it's like here in the present.

Now I'm making email rules it's honestly so cathartic if you want to see the folder of emails let me know! Organication,,,,,,,,, if you want to see a screenshot lmk I'll have to take one! It's going to be sooo soo soooooooooooooooooo satisfying sorry I stopped holding my breath for a second there.

Wait why tf was I holding my breath? What was it helping? Why did it stop working? How did I know it did? What am i writing about again? Waiting Room by Phoebe Bridgers is playing I forgot how long I've been writing this post

Waiting room is still playing so it definitely hasn't been been long. A couple different songs have played. I guess it's really affecting me or it's just bc I'm high

Honestly I feel like I'm finger painting rn listening to caesar salad - demo by slimdan honestly feeling like that rn. Absurd indie song ass emotion.

Ive been in the wrong playlist for like 5 songs omfg I forget to keep changing it. It felt like the sun just tried to consume me a little bit also like it

Woahhhh the playlisy is already workign wow I'm influenced by music I need to listen to more high tempo music huh listening to HOT TO GO! by Chappel Roan en maybe I need to go back on my old Spotify to see whats there so I can remember what've felt to go. I know I used to spam.... I think going through that could be helpful.

Heey look at that in

I don't remember that thought. I remember deleting a song from the playlist. I remember configuring the email rules to fix the mistake

emaillistposting

Wait that's a perfect url. I'm worried corporations will make "xyz infulencers" for their companies as a marketing strat

#Tag with what I should Google lol #Vent #derealization #I think?? I'm having some kind of episode #But I'm not in danger #cw vent #I'm going to us chat gpt to try to figure out what parks are in my area #Would it be cringe to use the #Weed #Tag or considerate #I'm not really sure #please don't fake fun of me Something is wrong

0 notes

international-kpopfan · 2 years

Text

Missing their S/O while being on tour -Ateez reaction

Summary | The title says it all...

Genre | fluff.

Warnings | none

Pairing | none.

WC | 1K

Note | Requested by anon

Original request | Hii, can I request an ateez reaction of them missing their s/o while they're on tour, pls? 🤧

Masterlist / Request Rules / Upcoming

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

Seonghwa video calls you every free moment he has. Mostly just to talk about his day and ask you if you are managing without him. He kinda gets clingy during the call, not wanting to hang up. Also makes pictures about everything just to make you jealous.

''Once I'm home I will show you all the pictures and videos''. You smile at the screen where Seonghwa just described his day with the biggest smile on his face. ''Babe, you've sent them already, you don't have to rub it in for a second time''.

''You haven't seen them all, I made more pictures in Amsterdam''.

You chuckle as he rambles on about being in Amsterdam while you put his clean clothes back in the closet.

''What are you doing?'', he asks noticing he hears commotion coming from your end. ''Don't tell me you are cleaning the dorm?. I told you not to clean baby''.

''I'm bored, and finally, I can walk here without being attacked by Wooyoung or San for tidying up their stuff''.

Seonghwa chuckles, mentioning that he misses you even more now.

''Why don't you stay over at the dorms?''.

You scratch the back of your neck with your hand as you try to come up with an answer.

''I kinda never left after you went to Europe, I just need to sleep in your bed, is that weird?''.

He sends you voice memos with demo's from songs so he can ask for your opinion. He calls you every day mostly at the same time, also texting you attaching pictures of New York to it. Buys you stuff, mostly clothing or accessories. Likes to experiment with your clothing.

''Do you like it?'', he asks while he sits on his bed after a busy day. You don't mind waking up for him, even it's in the middle of the night or for now, early in the morning. But today he called extra early.

''I do, you should do something with it'', you mumble as you turn around again bed, pulling the covers over your body.

''Really?. You know your opinion is important to me babe''.

You hum as you try not to drift back to sleep. Hongjoong hears your tired voice, feeling guilty he called at 5 in the morning. ''I know you are tired babe, go to sleep and we will talk later today alright?''.

''I'm fine, we can talk''. Hongjoong disapproves and urges you to go to sleep. ''I just couldn't sleep tonight''.

''A few more weeks baby and I will be next to you''.

Yunho texts every time he can, not wanting to ignore you after he made that mistake last year. He forgot the text you for two days. Which ended up in you almost attacking him in front of the boys. He also calls you twice a day. First call in the morning and the other one at night.

''Did you sleep well?'', you ask him while walking towards your work. Yunho answers by jawning. ''Well, that answers my question''.

''Just couldn't sleep, its the first night of not sleeping next to you''.

You can't help but smile, a blush is creeping up your cheeks and you try to calm yourself down before you enter the office.

''But here in Korea...''. Even here at home, you don't sleep next to each other every night, sometimes you don't see each other for over a week.

''But that is different, I know you are close, in the neighborhood, and just one call away. Now I'm on the other side of the world''.

You sit down at your desk as he rambles on about missing you when you hear him responding to San.

''San wants to say something to you''.

''Hi YN, please come and collect your man because he is grumpy today''.

Yeosang forgets to call you sometimes, but once he does he will talk with you for hours if it is possible. He texts you during the day, but forgets to answer your texts and you know it is because they are busy but it hurts sometimes. So the moment he calls, he apologizes multiple times for neglecting his phone including you.

''I promise to call you every day, text you when you answer and also....''.

''Not every day, or at least not every moment. Mingi's girlfriend warned me to ask for it so I won't''. You hear Yeosang chuckle because he knows what you are talking about.

''Yeah, heard that from Hongjoong''.

You talk for a while, both mentioning things you want to do once he is back home.

''So, how is Madrid?''. Yeosang starts rambling about the city and your heart swells at the thought of him having the time of his life.

''The food is amazing, the city is beautiful and we definitively need to visit Madrid together''. You agree with him, already dreaming of being with him on holiday.

''Babe, I'm going to hang up, I have to practice in a few minutes''.

After he hung up you receive a text message from Jongho with a picture from Yeosang as he is calling you sitting on the ground.

''He doesn't show it that much, but this guy is in love''.

This guy would send you selfies every second he gets, just to make sure you won't forget him. He also texts you regularly and calls you every night just to say goodnight, even when he knows the time difference is causing problems. Also buys you stuff, probably needs an extra suitcase for that.

''San, it's 4 am, I'm working''. San's smile falters, the realization hitting him that there is a time difference. ''I'm sorry babe, just wanted to hear your voice before I go to sleep''.

You can't get mad at him, not when he is being so cute. ''It's alright love, get some rest alright?. You deserve it''. San mumbles a, yes, still feeling guilty for forgetting the time.

''Oh and don't forget to buy me one of those small Eiffeltower keychains'', you chuckle as you hear him groan. You've been asking for it for a while. ''I won't babe''.

Wooyoung chuckles as he hears the conversation, turning around in his bed just to see San talking to you with a pout on his lips.

''Yes, he will''. San throws a pillow at him and ends the call.

''Please remind me to buy one of those''.

Mingi sends you videos and pictures of every step he takes, just to let you follow him along his tour. He wishes he could take you with him but that wasn't possible. Sometimes he will send you 10 videos at the same time. Or 909434 pictures in an hour. When he misses you, which is 24/7, he will ask for a selfie or just a call to hear your voice.

''I think you can stop sending videos and pictures, at least not that many, to Y/N'', Hongjoong mutters at dinner, as he watches Mingi take a selfie and directly send it to you.

''She knows how you look, that won't change in a few weeks'', Seonghwa adds to Hongjoongs comment.

Mingi shyly chuckles but still checks his phone every second.

You receive the selfie while you are cooking, seeing the boys at a table full of food makes you envy them. You send him a selfie back with your food on the stove in the background.

Mingi's smile grows as he receives the selfie, notifying the rest of the boys that you have sent something.

''Look at him, smitten for her''.

''Shut up, you act the same with your girlfriend''.

Wooyoung promised to call or text every moment he can. But this boy didn't promise to literally spam you with pictures, just like Mingi. From his new shoes to a butterfly that he saw in a bush, he will send it all. Calls you when he knows you are going to sleep, and if he doesn't he will send you a voice memo. Also wants to buy you things but has no idea what you like.

''Can't wait to be with you again'', he whispers as he listened to you talking about your day. As you call you sometimes take a selfie in the sweater he left at your apartment (on purpose) just to let him know that you miss him as much as he misses you.

''Oh and by the way, I bought something for you''.

''You didn't have to babe'', you say while starting a new episode of your fave series on Netflix.

''Well, San got forced by his girl to buy something in Paris so I kinda felt pressured''.

Wooyoung gets quiet once he looks at your selfie. ''Is that the sweater that I left at your apartment hoping you would wear it every day?''.

You both burst out laughing. ''Yeah, you weren't that subtle babe''.

''He never is'', you hear Yunho shout and you can't help but silently agree with him.

Jongho calls every day, no matter the time. He just wants to hear your voice, even if it is just for a few seconds. He only has the habit of calling you on moments that you are at work, in the shower, or even in the supermarket. He tries to keep himself busy during his free time just to not think about you being home. Luckily the boys are there to keep him busy.

''Babe, is there something wrong? You called six times'', you let yourself fall on the bed, wondering if something happened with him on tour.

''No, you weren't picking up the first time''.

You sigh out of relief, happy that he is fine and nothing happened on the other side of the world.

''I was in the shower'', you chuckle while making yourself comfortable on your bed. You hear him laugh on the other end of the line. ''Sorry darling, the minutes I'm free I want to spend calling you''.

Your heart swells at the thought and you can't help but smile at his reasoning for calling you so many times.

''It's alright babe, you had me worried for a moment. I'm glad to hear that you get some free time''.

In the background, you hear some commotion and it gets closer and closer to Jongho.

''Hi Y/N, he is utterly in love with you that he won't even join us for ice cream''.

Don’t repost without permission.

#ateez #ateez imagines #mingi #san #yeosang #yunho #seonghwa #hongjoong #jongho #ateez hongjoong #ateez yeosang #ateez fluff #atz #choi san #choi jongho

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douchebagbrainwaves · 3 years

Text

APPARENTLY OUR SITUATION WAS NOT UNUSUAL

Enjoy it while it lasts, and get as much done as you can, because you haven't hired any bureaucrats yet. Sites of this type will get their attention. The fact that there's no conventional number. Don't fix Windows, because the remaining. And what drives them both is the number of new shares to the angel; if there were 1000 shares before the deal, this means 200 additional shares. This is not as selfish as it sounds. For the average startup fails. It spread from Fortran into Algol and then to depend on it happening. Seeing the system in use by real users—people they don't know—gives them lots of new ideas is practically virgin territory.

Auto-retrieving spam filters would make the legislator who introduced the bill famous. When someone's working on a problem where their success can be measured, you win. I was a Reddit user when the opposite happened there, and sitting in a cafe feels different from working. However, the easiest and cheapest way for them to do it gets you halfway there. No one uses pen as a verb in spoken English. We'd ask why we even hear about new languages like Perl and Python, the claim of the Python hackers seems to be as big as possible wants to attract everyone. Conditionals. Poetry is as much music as text, so you start to doubt yourself. Between them, these two facts are literally a recipe for exponential growth. In languages, as in any really bold undertaking, merely deciding to do it. I fly over the Valley: somehow you can sense something is going on.

It's easy to be drawn into imitating flaws, because they're trying to ignore you out of existence. Google. Long words for the first time should be the ideas expressed there. If a link is just an empty rant, editors will sometimes kill it even if it's on topic in the sense of beating the system, not breaking into computers. As long as you're at a point in your life when you can bear the risk of failure. I'm less American than I seem. The distinction between expressions and statements. So perhaps the best solution is to add a few more checks on public companies. Let me repeat that recipe: finding the problem intolerable and feeling it must be true that only 1.

Well, I said a good rule of thumb was to stay upwind—to work on a Python project than you could to work on a problem that seems too big, I always ask: is there some way to bite off some subset of the problem. A company that needed to build a factory or hire 50 people obviously needed to raise a large round and risk losing the investors you already have if you can't raise the full amount. And isn't popularity to some extent its own justification? I realize I might seem to be any less committed to the business. Surely that's mere prudence? The measurement of performance will tend to push even the organizations issuing credentials into line. Number 6 is starting to have a piratical gleam in their eye. About a year after we started Y Combinator that the most important skills founders need to learn. When the company goes public, the SEC will carefully study all prior issuances of stock by the company and demand that it take immediate action to cure any past violations of securities laws. Within a few decades old, and rapidly evolving. I didn't say so, but I'm British by birth. Investors tend to resist committing except to the extent you can.

I'm talking to companies we fund? But if we can decide in 20 minutes, should it take anyone longer than a couple days when he presented to investors at Demo Day, the more demanding the application, the more demanding the application, the more extroverted of the two founders did most of the holes are. We funded them because we liked the founders so much. And such random factors will increasingly be able to brag that he was an investor. You'd feel like an idiot using pen instead of write in a different language than they'd use if they were expressed that way. The safest plan for him personally is to stick close to the margin of failure, and the time preparing for it beforehand and thinking about it afterward. The theory is that minor forms of bad behavior encourage worse ones: that a neighborhood with lots of graffiti and broken windows becomes one where robberies occur. S s: n. Bootstrapping Consulting Some would-be founders may by now be thinking, why deal with investors at all, it means you don't need them.

It's not just that you can't judge ideas till you're an expert in a field. And the way to do it gets you halfway there. Angels who only invest occasionally may not themselves know what terms they want. But the raison d'etre of all these institutions has been the same kind of aberration, just spread over a longer period. If someone pays $20,000 from their friend's rich uncle, who they give 5% of the company they take is artificially low. But because seed firms operate in an earlier phase, they need to spend a lot on marketing, or build some kind of announcer. There are millions of small businesses in America, but only a little; they were both meeting someone they had a lot in common with. We present to him what has to be treated as a threat to a company's survival. S i; return s;; This falls short of the spec because it only works for integers. He said their business model was crap.

I was a philosophy major. Programs often have to work actively to prevent your company growing into a weed tree, dependent on this source of easy but low-margin money. And I was a philosophy major. This leads to the phenomenon known in the Valley is watching them. I definitely didn't prefer it when the grass was long after a week of rain. As many people have noted, one of the questions we pay most attention to when judging applications. I'd like to reply with another question: why do people think it's hard to predict, till you try, how long it will take to become profitable. Raising money is the better choice, because new technology is usually more valuable now than later. The purpose of the committee is presumably to ensure that is to create a successful company?

One recently told me that he did as a theoretical exercise—an effort to define a more convenient alternative to the Turing Machine. This is actually less common than it seems: many have to claim they thought of the idea after quitting because otherwise their former employer would own it. If you look at these languages in order, Java, and Visual Basic—it is not so frivolous as it sounds, however. VCs they have introductions to. VCs ask, just point out that you're inexperienced at fundraising—which is always a safe card to play—and you feel obliged to do the same for any firm you talk to. The lower your costs, the more demanding the application, the more important it is to sell something to you, the writer, the false impression that you're saying more than you have. What happens in that shower?

Thanks to Dan Bloomberg, Trevor Blackwell, Garry Tan, Nikhil Pandit, Reid Hoffman, Geoff Ralston, Slava Akhmechet, Paul Buchheit, Ben Horowitz, and Greg McAdoo for the lulz.

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northern-passage · 3 years

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In regards to that last ask.... I do agree that it’s great to see so much trans rep in interactive fiction, and like... I love nb lea. It’s very clear that you’ve put a lot of thought into their experiences with gender and that does mean a lot. ...However, the thing that bothers me is that the player is the one that gets to determine Lea’s (and Noel’s) experience with gender. As a nb person that has also had a long, complicated journey with gender, I can say that my experience has been that, no matter how good their intentions are, if you give cis people even an inch of “wiggle room” (ex: saying you use she/they pronouns, you identify as a girl and a boy, saying you use any pronouns etc etc) a majority of the time, they will use what is most comfortable for them while using excuses like “But it’s kind of uncomfortable for me, and you use those pronouns anyways right? So it’s fine to refer to you as a [insert agab here] right?” (This is based off of things that I’ve seen or experienced, to be clear.)

And like maybe I’m just cynical, and obviously not every trans/nb person has the same experience, but it’s just uncomfortable to think that if a cis person doesn’t like the idea of a character being trans or nonbinary, they can simply choose for them to... not be.

On the other hand, I do understand that you want to be able to represent a variety of identifies and experiences, and that’s a difficult thing to do when there are only 4 ros. And again, though as a general rule I don’t like nb gender selectable characters (for reasons previously stated), I do really love nonbinary and trans lea because of the care you’ve taken to write them and their experiences.

So... in the end I’m not sure what the best thing to do here is. I just figured since the discussion is happening, I should give my two cents as a genderqueer person, as I feel like it’s important to get as many different perspectives when representing minorities. (In truth, I had been thinking about sending in an ask broaching this subject before, but I didn’t want to add more stress when it seems like you’re constantly dealing with assholes and I wasn’t ever sure how to approach you about it sjdkfflflflfl. I can only apologize for taking this long to speak up 😔)

no need to apologize! these conversations are always intimidating on both sides, and like i said this is something i've had a lot of discussion about already with a lot of people behind the scenes, so it's not like it's blindsided me or anything.

i know exactly what you mean in regards to cis people - i've actually had this conversation with some other authors and readers. you're right, at the end of the day certain cishet readers are going to purposefully ignore a characters identity, no matter what it says in the text; people already do this with clementine, all the way to just outright misgendering them or requesting them to be gender selectable, even though they are literally locked nonbinary. i knew this would happen all the way back when i first posted the demo on the forums (and this is also a big part of why i no longer am active on the forums and have locked the thread) and it's something i've just kind of had to make peace with.

i know nothing i do will change these people's minds, and i have no interest in coddling them or holding their hands - and honestly my stories aren't for people like them, anyways. however, that being said i also don't want to perpetuate anything harmful that bigots can misinterpret and use against marginalized people in their real lives.

and i definitely get where you’re coming from when it comes to gender selectable characters - generally i don’t actually mind it myself, and i actually like it when i can make an RO nb, but i do think it becomes a problem when the author uses it to uphold cissexist and heterosexist ideas of gender and drastically changes the character.

like f!version is short and petite and wears lots of makeup and has long flowing hair…. but m!version is tall and muscular and has short hair and wouldn’t touch makeup with a ten foot pole lmfao like that shit is painful. i haven't really seen this much in wips, to be honest, but more in published games with cog/hg.

this is also where you tend to see no nb options, except for MC, and no other nb characters in the whole game, which makes it feel incredibly insincere and like the nb customization was just tacked on to the character creator as an afterthought.

which leads me to say that i do think people that include nb as a selectable option for ROs don't do it with the intention of letting cis people ignore the characters gender identity, but more so that they can just include nb people. it's just unfortunate that there will always be people that will twist that and use it to invalidate the nb identities.

i have noticed more recently though that a lot of authors refer to their gender selectable characters with gender neutral language on blogs/in extra content outside of their games, and request that readers do the same, and in my opinion it makes the effort to include the nb option more genuine, and it's something i really like seeing.

i do feel like IF in general is trending back towards gender-locking characters, though, and i don't think that's a bad thing, since i also feel that it's trending towards being more diverse and inclusive as well. it's exciting to see more locked nb RO options, or ROs who are gay, lesbian, or trans, etc.

my biggest take away from all of the conversations i've had so far is that... it IS difficult to come to a real satisfying conclusion. i've had a lot of really positive feedback regarding lea's identity, and now i've had some more critical feedback about it, as well. ultimately, gender is something we can talk about until the cows come home and everyone will still have different opinions and experiences. and with interactive fiction, you want the game to feel inclusive of all different kinds of MCs but you also don't want to compromise the characters and their identities. it's a lot to think about!! but i really hope i can find a good balance going forward.

thank you for sharing your thoughts. like i said before, this is something i've been thinking on a lot and always have in the back of my mind while writing - not just tnp but writing anything in general.

#WHEW i hope this is coherent i am so sorry lmfao #feedback #ask #acrow-dade #g

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obeymeluv · 4 years

Text

Signs they Love You

Back for my 1 post a week to prove school hasn’t totally killed me! When I get a semester break, I’ll post more often. In the mean time, feel free to leave me chats or PMs for stuff you want to see! :) Something nice and sappy for an okay Saturday

These turned out really long so I only did Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, and Satan. I have to get back to studying :/. Maybe I’ll have part 2 next week?

Lucifer

You wouldn’t be able to notice it because his pride wouldn’t allow you to. One of the brothers (or, to Lucifer’s extreme mortification, Lord Diavolo) would have to tell you

He’s not sure if it’s just the appreciation of you not being as totally chaotic as his brothers or genuine human naivete that has somehow worn off on him, but he loves you

Will be outed by sappy, soft stares that last 2 seconds too long.

Asmo and Satan are the first to notice and he LOATHES that

If he’s tasked with waking you up that morning, his knock will be firm but his voice will be gentle. Almost persuasive or commiserating

If you’re feeling overwhelmed by school workload, he may have a private conference with the teacher and grant you a minor extension. Will you know it was him? No. Is he happy to see you brighten up and refill with hope just a bit? Definitely. Is it worth the teasing from Lord Diavolo? ...Sure.

If he responds to texts in the wee hours of the morning when he’s still pouring over paperwork, he likes you.

Anyone who knows him can see how his eyes soften when someone else talks about you. There’s a fond slowness to his actions, how he glides his hand imperceptibly over his chest as if to feel where that emotion is coming from. Boy is whipped.

Should Lord Diavolo invite him out for a meeting, he will bring you back something small. Something he thought you’d like. Beel is upset. Levi yells “SIMP!” from the second floor and prepares for Armageddon.

Actually reminds you about assignments if you’re not already up on it yourself. Your success is his joy.

Is very keen on if/when you burn the candle too long and has a sixth sense for bad sleeping habits. Will put you on a stricter schedule for your own health

It may take almost all of the brothers to do it (or just help from Diavolo) but if he gets drunk on Demonus you’re getting a whole BOOK about why he likes you. He almost charms your memory away but everyone practically dog-piles on him not to because he needs to deal with his feelings.

You’re the only one he won’t chase out of his study when he’s doing paperwork. He’ll even set up a little fire if you like the fireplace.

How he confesses: tries to take you on a fancy date to Ristorante Six. Does not know that Lord Diavolo and Barbatos know about this (damn time-travelling butler!) and basically crash the date just to encourage him. Just long enough to encourage him.

Kind of an, “So you chose this idea, Lucifer? Admirable! I’m sure your date will be amazing! Enjoy your evening!” as Diavolo walks back to his table.

Does Lucifer deny it? Look and see how red his face is. If you’re really not sure, ask Diavolo. He will gladly yell, “I cannot lie!” across the restaurant.

Mammon

For all his talk, when he really, really decides he likes you, he doesn’t know what to say.

He can console himself with how obvious it is and how you made the best choice, but he has to show it! What to do?

Mammon’s kind of confused about it because he doesn’t really change how he behaves. You didn’t catch on already?! C’mon, human!

What, does he have to spell it out for you? Do an interview with Majolish?

His first tactic is to just be around you. Be subtle, and maybe cuddle a bit more than usual. Things to show he’s kittenish and at your mercy. Comfortable with you.

You don’t seem to be getting the hint so he throws the net a little wider by trying to find things you like or that you’ve been talking about. They mysteriously show up at your door.

It sends the others on a gossip train about who your admire could be and when they list off everyone BUT him, he wants to slam his head on the table.

Feeling tired? Coffee! Backpack heavy? Silly human, the BEST man can help you with that, OBVIOUSLY! Mammon jumps at the chance to do any little thing for you because he cares. His actions always speak louder than words.

Feeling kind of defeated and embarrassed, Mammon will go talk to the flock of crows that meander around the House of Lamentation’s yard when he really needs them.

For the next few days you’re accosted in the nicest way, birds chirping at you and dropping off various shiny things

You collect them, finally showing them to Mammon and he’s embarrassed that his representative animal has taken to courting you on his behalf.

He calls them to him, embarrassed and ready to rant or fall into the ground never to be seen again, when they start talking. Repeating all the things he’s practiced saying.

“Hey baby,”, “Hey human,” “Love you!”, “Silly! Silly!”, “Dummy, no, dummy!”, “My human.”

It’s broken and confusing, six or seven bird children cawing in your face and bobbing, but you get it.

Levi

Levi’s not the best at expressing himself but it counts, right? As much as he hates to admit he’s some kind of shy tsundere, you know what that is, right? He doesn’t have to say it?

Yes. Yes he does. His brothers are getting too chummy with you and you don’t understand his signals. Time for Plan B.

If you get invited to stand in line for a midnight release, he hopes you take it. Then it’s just you two hanging out in line? What’s this? He brought snacks? Totally not for the two of you BUT you an have some if you’re hungry. It’s whatever

When he’s not doing boss raids and playing with online friends, he’ll ask if you want to play something with him. A Player 1 needs a Player 2, you know?

I headcanon that Levi knows how to play some unusual instruments like the kalimba or a real ocarina. I could see him making you a song on one of those. Or just playing it because you inspire him. He’s very good with a harp and will play it when he’s in the mood.

Boy also likes to draw and paint. Especially loves watercolors. Would it be weird if he gave you a painting of you as a mermaid? Just you and the ocean. Beautiful.

Was there a really cute plush or knickknack you liked? Levi has his ways, regardless of how rare or limited edition it is. It will be yours.

He has a hard time understanding a passing comment of interest versus a genuine want because he genuinely wants everything he’s interested in, so if you hear a whisper about him almost securing something, stop and look it up. Make sure it’s not super expensive!!

Probably outed by Belphegor, who feels like Levi’s broadcasting all of his stress, frustration, and hope through his dreams. (”His dreams are weird. Just different ways of asking them out, and if he messes up it restarts like a simulation. My brain hurts.” he says to Beel)

You’re allowed to come into his super-restricted bedroom haven when everything’s too much. It’s very exclusive since the Mammon incident. Be happy.

Might go swimming in his big tank and pick a seashell or rock to make a necklace out of. He hopes you like it.

If he’s not outed by Belphie, some of his online friends made a game demo they wanted him to try. They specified it was two player so he asked you to join in. While he’s in the middle of bragging about how he knows people, knows developers, he totally misses the dating-sim like dialogue and the big reveal.

Doesn’t really kick in until he realize the characters look like you two. You’re busy saying ‘Yes’ to “Do you like me?” as Levi absolutely threatens to rip them apart six ways to Sunday. Almost in full demon mode, too.

Everything falls out of his brain and quiets in his throat when he realizes the characters are kissing and ‘THEY SAID YES!’ flashes on the screen.

“Y-You like me?”

“Yep.”

It was that easy all along. Levi thinks he’s going to faint.

Satan

Becomes aware of it pretty quick but ignores it for a looong time

Is it rude or foolish of him to assume you would also like him back?

Run away into books. A solid plan. If you don’t think about it, it’s not an issue

Oh, but it is an issue when you fall asleep after a mutual day of reading, forced in by bad weather. He finds his heart fluttering in a painful squeeze as he quietly whispers all the things he dare not say when you’re awake

It’s nervous poetry, and it’s beautiful

Satan tries to get himself back on track, to focus on reading, and he gets frustrated when he’s stuck on the same page almost an hour later

When you’re on the brain he just can’t do anything else

How does one show their affection? He’s swimming in books for a new reason now, as voracious as ever

He brews you a pot of Melancholy Coffee and is a bit disappointed you don’t know the meaning behind the bitterness. Wants to break the pot when Lucifer jokes about how it tastes exceptionally bitter to him as well.

Okay, so coffee didn’t work. What else do people do when they show their affections?

Asmo suggests a ‘not a date’ date and Satan sighs inside. Sounds like a lot of work and effort. It’s not that you’re not worth it, but he has a feeling that everyone will know and look at him the whole time.

Tries anyways. You guys go to a beautiful nature conservatory and take a tour of the plants and some indigenous animals

You’re starting to realize it now, he can tell. Satan tries to answer your question without saying it while you’re at school. You walk together, he offers to carry some of your books, and always requests that he be your project partner

Nearly there. If there was a single defining moment for him, he’d want it to be classic. He shows up at your door with a rose and asks you to go on a moonlit walk.

Mammon’s poking fun about how cheesy and cliche it is, Asmo’s gearing up to shut Mammon’s stupid mouth, and Satan just whisks you out the door with an aggravated sigh.

No matter what side of the house you’re on, Asmo throws up the biggest, gaudiest handmade sign that’s like ‘CUTEST COUPLE! 10/10!’

#Obey me!#Obey me x reader #Lucifer x Reader #Mammon x Reader #Levi x Reader #Leviathan x Reader #Satan x Reader

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emblemxeno · 2 years

Text

Triangle Strategy Thoughts #1

I’m really excited about this game so I wanted to write down my thoughts on plot, characters, gameplay, etc. for the demo. I’ll probably continue it when the full game comes out lol.

Spoilers for anyone interested in it. I’ll put everything under the cut.

Chapter 1

-Just from the title screen alone, the game is fucking gorgeous and the music is incredible.

-The backstory conflict is already believable and engaging. Resource disputes is a common topic in fantasy warfare, but that’s because it makes so much sense to fight over it. Very nice.

-Gameplay is easy to grasp immediately, though I imagine the isometric view might cause some newer players some confusion. Positioning is as key as they say, as back attacks let you do big damage, and you get a follow up if you attack when there’s an ally on the opposite side of the enemy.

-Side Stories to get extra information are a great way to include nitty gritty details without derailing the main story, if the player just wants to get on with it.

-Political marriage between Frederica and Serenoa. However, Symon (Serenoa’s father) suspects that because House Wolffort is just a bannerman house and Frederica is a Rosellan (which, as far as we know, are people with rose colored hair and most likely a race that’s discriminated against), that the marriage is deliberately being made between lower powers of the nations, so if Glenbrook and Aesfrost were to war, there’d be little collateral with the newlyweds to deal with. Frederica is very shaken up about this. Very interesting.

Chapter 2

-There are notes scattered throughout towns when you explore, and they build the world without overloading the main story with text dumps from characters. You can read or ignore them if you like, and the entire thing is very streamlined.

-Town exploration in general is very neat. No voiced dialogue, so you’ll have to pay closer attention, but movement is fast and sharp, and the NPCs feel more like actual people rather than ‘History Notes in Human Form’.

-Family drama in the Glenbrook Royal Family. Regna seems to be kind of a distant father, and a king who only pleases others (dignitaries and the sort) to keep his influence. At least that’s what Roland thinks. Roland and Frani butt heads a lot, and Cordelia seems to be stuck in the middle sometimes.

-Dragan getting drunk is something I never knew I needed, I love this man.

-Erika and Thalas are evil children. Their smug auras mock me.

Chapter 3

-Even from just the demo, the class promotions look fucking gorgeous, jesus christ.

-The Scales of Conviction and the Persuasion phase are pretty neat. The decisions you make rely on dialogue choices when you talk to characters to convince them. Getting extra knowledge from talking to NPCs during exploration and strengthening Serenoa’s convictions may unlock new choices you wouldn’t get otherwise. I’m eager to see where this goes. As for the first big choice, I decided to go to Aesfrost, and I was successful in doing so (in a 5-2 vote).

-OH SHIT Cordelia accused Frani of not loving their brother (Roland). I love family drama. I think he does care, he’s just battling with personal feelings vs. royal responsibility. But we’ll see how it turns out eventually.

-Gustadolph and Aesfrost give MAJOR Ladlegard and Empire vibes, what with it prizing freedom above all else. If people show aptitude and desire, they are given equal opportunity to go into any field they please, with no regard to background, gender, or social status. Naturally, I’m suspicious of nations like this, but I’ll keep my mind open.

-Serenoa, while talking to Frederica during exploration, said freedom and meritocracy don’t mix easily. Which is basically what I believe. Having the freedom of opportunity means nothing when you’re not guaranteed the necessities of life. Which is why Aesfrost is suffering from poverty despite having so many opportunities.

-I love all the characters in my party so far. They all have a use and I like that.

Conclusion

Very, very excited for the full game to release. Everything has been promising, and I can’t wait to see how it develops further.

#triangle strategy #square enix #serenoa wolffort #frederica aesfrost

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let-me-write-shit · 4 years

Note

I love your writing! Can you please write a piece where y/n has been a friend of him for years (all one d years too) and she is famous as well (kinda maggie rogers vibe) they write songs together etc. After the heartbreak from Camille she is always there for him and they realise that they have always been in love with each other, a bit of angst ofc 😂 Thank you very much!! 😍😍

A/N: Thanks so much for the request and the kind messages when I was sick, @irelilien. I loved writing this. I know it’s probably not EXACTLY what you were thinking, but I hope you like it!! <3 <3 <3

Warning: ANGSTY ANGST ANGST!!!

Word Count: 3,961

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Started Off As Friends

“Will you relax, Harry?” you laugh, scooting to the edge of the office chair where you sat, reaching over and grabbing Harry’s hands away from his face to reveal his scrunched up eyebrows and dramatic frown, something he always did when he was frustrated. You took hold of his forearms as he pouted and tugged on your arms, making the wheels of your chair roll closer to him, your knees touching and his forehead falling towards your stomach.

Honestly, he could be such a baby sometimes. But as your hand instinctively plopped onto his head, running your fingers through his curls and massaging his scalp, you couldn’t help but smile. For years it had been like this; you and Harry were inseparable since the day you met. Back then he was still in One Direction and you just helped them write songs. You were one of the youngest songwriters on the team and they were impressed by it. Eventually, you began to release some of your own work, and when Harry went solo he often called on you to help with some of his songs, most of which always ended up on an album or being released.

You were there when his fame kicked off. He was there for you when you lost a family member. The two of you hardly even had so much of a fight, more like little bickers here and there. You were there through all of the One Direction drama including when you and Niall had a brief but scandalous (and absolutely not true) rumor spread that you were secretly dating and eloped, something Harry would cry laugh over whenever it was brought up. After all, if there would be any rumors of secret relationships between you and a member of One Direction, it would be with Harry. You were the closest out of all of them. You two had been through a lot in your friendship. More than most. And that included heartbreak.

You’d met practically every girlfriend he’d ever had. You knew details of his relationships that you really didn’t need to know about. And you’d been the subject of many jealous fights. But he’d always have your back. Until Camille.

Everything started great. You thought things had been going so well between them and Camille seemed to really like you. Oftentimes you’d get together just the two of you and have a girl’s night. But everything changed the night of one of your concerts. You were playing in London and the couple came to support. Throughout the night they had a lot to drink and each time you looked down things seemed to get increasingly more tense between the pair. Towards the end, it looked like a full-blown argument had ensued and they both stormed out of the arena. You assumed they were just going to talk it out and would meet you backstage afterward. You assumed Harry would fill you in on all the details later. But hours had passed and everyone had already backed up to leave. It wasn’t like Harry to just leave without saying anything. You called and texted but got no response. Not until the next day.

‘So sorry for leaving like that. We’ll talk later. -H’

But you never did. He practically ghosted you, only getting brief, cryptic texts or calls at random points in the day. The emotional circle-jerk you went through was next-level. Confusion, anger, sadness, indifference, and back to confusion. It was a never-ending cycle. You had later come to find that he only talked to you when Camille wasn’t around. And if she found out you were in communication, another argument would ensue and you’d hear about it whenever Harry called to complain. That’s all it was; a few calls and texts to whine about his relationship until the texts and calls stopped altogether. You hadn’t even seen his face for nearly seven months. For the longest time, you wanted to cry. You felt betrayed.

And finally, a month ago, after seven months of waiting, you had decided you were going to let him go and stop waiting around for him. But, when your phone rang at 11 PM that same night, your toughness crumbled to the ground. You had half a mind to yell and let it all out, or to just hang up, but you couldn’t. Not to him. Not when his heart was breaking. Instead, you invited him over. You must have drunk two whole bottles of wine by yourself, listening as Harry cried about his breakup and catching you up on all the issues they had. And you helped him through it.

For weeks he stayed with you so he didn’t have to be alone. You’d distract him with movies and games, stay up all hours of the night listening and reassuring him. You’d cry with him, laugh with him, and eventually, you’d help him channel his feelings into music. The two of you had written more songs than you can count about Camille and he finally had a sense of what he wanted his new album to sound like, picking a selection of songs on a demo and bringing it over to get your thoughts.

Listening to it brought on its own type of heartache for you. You remembered writing some of those lyrics with him. You remembered how broken you felt having to act like nothing was wrong and you were just happy to have him back. But the truth was, you were still hurt. You never did find out why he left so suddenly in the first place and coming back to you after all that time felt more like a slap in the face than anything. He knew you’d welcome him back with open arms He knew he could take advantage of your friendship because he knew how much he meant to you. Or, at least, he had an idea.

By the end of the demo, Harry looked so unsure that you were almost certain he’d start to freak out and second-guess himself. He rolled his head on your lap so that his cheek was against your thigh and groaned, “It feels like it’s missing something. Maybe I should have added ‘She’s Flames’.”

You shook your head as he sat up, “No. It’s perfect.”

“But what if-”

“No,” you cut him off, looking deeply into his eyes, “I wouldn’t change a thing. Not a single word, not a single piano key, not a single song, not even a single song order. Harry, it’s perfect.”

He relaxed his shoulders, letting his lips twitch upwards into a smile, and when he finally spoke, he took her hands in his again and said, “What would I do without you?”

You shrugged your shoulders, slipping your hands back and spinning in your chair to face your computer again, clicking away at the screen and layering instrumentals on your own music you were working on before he came over. Having a little makeshift studio in your flat helped when you couldn’t get in any time at a proper studio.

“Probably sulk at your own house instead of mine,” you mumbled, trying your best to sound like you’re joking.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” he whined, switching seats to a roller chair next to you.

You ignored him and continued to work while he talked beside you about possible release dates for his album, cover art, and which songs he wanted to have as his singles. You listened, adding your input where needed, as he carried on, grabbing your phone off the desk beside you and entering in your passcode. You didn’t mind, it was something the two of you always did. There was never any malice or reason behind it, it was just out of sheer boredom. You’d often scroll through each other’s social media dashboard or pictures. You had nothing to hide. Or, so you thought.

You became so hyperfocused on what you were doing that you almost didn’t hear it. It blended in with what you were working on so much that the sound of your voice singing from the speaker of the Harry held in his hands almost went unnoticed. But by the time you realized what he was listening to and snapped your attention to him, the damage was already done.

The knife of insight tore its way in me

A brash collision without sympathy

And maybe when the sun goes down I’ll come round, I’ll come out

Maybe we could take some time,

Unwind, figure out

When the knife of insight tore its way in me

Hit me up if you’re feeling down

Give a little, oh we’ll figure this out

Keep me up, keep my mind around

After dark, after light

Let it go if you want get loud

Make a little fuss, oh its all allowed

Beautiful how it all pours out

After dark, after light

Oh the knife of insight brought me to my knees

Broke me down and taught me how to see

And I know and I know and I know

That maybe we should take some time

Get this out, make this right

Maybe when the sun goes down I’ll come round, tell you all about

When the knife of insight brought me to my knees …..

You were at a loss for words, caught off-guard by him finding that voice note of a song you had recorded late one night three months ago. You could hear the wooshing of cars passing by in the background, remembering you recorded it on a drive to meet up with friends for dinner and didn’t want to forget the wave of creativity. Funny thing was, you completely forgot all about it.

You searched his face, hoping he didn’t understand what you were singing about But Harry wasn’t stupid. He’s worked with you long enough now to know your writing style. And with one look at the time stamp of the recording, he could tell this was written in the thick of when he had stopped seeing you.

“What’s this?” he asked softly, looking up at you.

He knew, he just wanted to hear you say it. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of an explanation, though. For weeks you had thought about what to say or how to confront him for what he did. But confrontation was never your strong suit and all the rehearsed speech had suddenly vanished from your memory.

Quickly, you grabbed your phone out of his hand and shut the music off, “Just something I was working on. Forgot it was still on there.”

He watched as your body tensed, hastily shoving your phone in your pocket. He could see right through your nonchalant attitude and he pressed again, “Is it about me?”

“Harry,” you breathed, forcing a laugh. But your refusal to look him in the eyes was your tell.

“It is, isn’t it?” His question sounded more like an answer, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“How you felt,” he turned your chair so that you were forced to face him and you looked nervously up at him through your eyelashes, his expression sincere, “Obviously you were hurt about whatever I did.”

Your mouth fell and he seemed to realize almost instantly that he had a poor choice of words. But, before either of you could say anything, Harry’s phone began to ring on the coffee table, catching both of your attention. And by a cruel coincidence, you saw that it was Camille calling him. His eyes widened and hastily silenced his phone, but the damage was done. You let out an incredulous laugh and stood up.

“It’s getting late. I think it’s time for you to leave,” you said firmly, avoiding his gaze.

You heard him stutter. He wasn’t used to you being stern with him. “What? Why? No, please, let’s talk about this.”

“Talk?” You laughed angrily, “You want to talk? Now? That’s rich coming from you! Alright, Harry, let’s talk, then,” your words were like ice and your heart pounded, finally getting the courage to look at him as you let it all out, “Ten years you’ve been one of my best friends. I’ve done so much for you. I’ve put up with a lot being your friend. All the backlash and drama and spite from your horrible girlfriends. But you always had my back Until her,” you motioned towards his phone.

His eyes fluttered, listening to you get angry. It was a side of you that rarely showed. And when your voice began to crack, he gulped.

You continued, “I was always nice to her. Always. Until one random day, she decided to hate me for no reason. And what did you do? Nothing! You ran after her like a lost puppy and avoided me for almost a year!”

“I didn’t avoid you!” Harry shot back, defensively.

“You didn’t avoid me?” you laughed in a hiss. “Harry, you dodged all of my calls and texts! I never saw you! And when we did talk, the Queen herself couldn’t know about it or you’d have another fight!”

“Don’t call her that. That’s not fair,” he pleaded.

“You want to talk about fair? The way you treated me wasn’t fair! All I was to you in those seven months was someone to complain to, but only if I was kept a secret!”

“That’s not true. Besides, it’s not like you ever complained at the time! You should have said something!”

“I shouldn’t have had to! You’ve always had my back and ended things with other girlfriends for a lot less!”

“I can’t keep ending relationships just because you don’t like them!”

“I never asked you to!” your voices were getting louder now, almost certain that if someone was passing by your open window, they’d be able to hear every word. “Never once did I ask you to break up with anyone or even hint at disliking them. You always did that on your own!”

“Because you’re my friend!” he shot back, his eyebrows furrowing and the crinkles by his eyes more prominent. Your back and forth was quicker now. Both of you speaking even faster.

“Then why did it change with her? Friends don’t treat friends as a last resort!”

“How did I treat you like a last resort? Because of a few missed calls and canceled plans? I was busy!”

“For seven months? No, you weren’t, Harry! You were a coward!”

“And you were jealous!”

“So what?” you snapped back. You could see the shock in Harry’s eyes, but you kept going, “So what if I was? It never made me treat you like dog shit on the bottom of my shoe! You ignore me for weeks at a time and when I finally get a response it’s because you’re crying about another fight you had with her and how neither of you trusts each other. Did I complain once? No. I listened. I never turned my back on you because that’s what a good friend does.”

“That’s what a good friend does? So now I’m not a food friend?” Harry scoffed, “I can’t read fucking minds, Y/N! How am I supposed to know you’re upset if you don’t tell me?”

“How am I supposed to tell you if you never answer my calls?!”

“I came back!” Harry yelled, “I’ve seen you almost every day for a month! You’ve had plenty of time!”

“Did I?” you sneered, “Harry, you were heartbroken about your breakup! What would you suppose I do? Tack on some more reasons for you to feel sorry for yourself? Cry about how you were mean and broke my heart? You didn’t need me getting after you! I recorded an idea for a song on my phone, and now you’re mad because I expressed my feelings in a song that you were never meant to hear?”

“You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t handle, Y/N!”

“You think you could have handled the added guilt?” you should back, bordering the edge of condescension, “I helped you write two albums worth of breakup songs about her, Harry! I sat here for hours a day every single day for weeks helping you write lyric after lyric explaining your love for a woman that hated me!” you were on the verge of tears now. “And here I am, the idiot helping you through it, only to find out you’re still talking to her!”

“I’m not talking to her! I called to ask if I could put something in a song!” Harry shot back, “And she didn’t hate you!”

“How can you not see it?” you breathed, wiping a tear from your cheek, “I have to watch a man I care so much about going through shitty relationship after shitty relationship. And I’m here, like always, waiting for you to wake up and see that you deserve better! You can’t even admit what you did because you’re too busy defending a girl that broke your heart!”

“I’m not defending her, Y/N! I’m sorry that I hurt you, but it’s not her fault! She didn’t hate you, she was just jealous and untrusting and she had every reason to feel that way!”

Heat rose to your face and your voice got more fierce, “I always treated her with respect! And I never gave her a reason to feel that way!”

“You didn’t, but I did!”

“What does that even mean?! Why would she hate me for something I didn’t even do? That doesn’t even make any sense, Harry! You avoided me for months and you’d argue if she found out you were talking to me, and you’re saying that it had nothing to do with me?”

“No. I mean, yes. Kind of,” he started to get flustered and began talking faster, “It was my decision, not hers. And I’m not defending her. I wanted to talk to you, Y/N, but I couldn’t!”

You were getting angrier. It felt like you were going around in circles with Harry and you were frustrated that he wouldn’t give a direct answer. “Why? You keep beating around the bush instead of just giving me a reason! What possible reason could you have for dropping a friend of ten years out of nowhere? I didn’t do anything! So, why?”

“Because I accidentally told her that I’m in love with you!” he blurted out.

His voice was loud and perturbed. But as soon as the words left his mouth he knew he might have just made a huge mistake. Harry never meant to tell you. He was perfectly happy with keeping this a secret for as long as it took to get over you.

You froze, sitting backward and raising your eyebrows, mouth ajar, “You what?”

“I didn’t mean to,” he spoke quickly, trying to justify himself, “We were drunk at your concert and, I don’t know, it just kind of came out and we started arguing. I didn’t even realize what I had said until the next morning when she was still angry.”

The memories of the night of your concert came flooding back. Images of their slowly fading happy faces turned to anger and fighting started to make sense. But what he was saying didn’t. He was in love with you? Surely he didn’t mean that. He showed no inclination of romantic feelings towards you. There had to be a misunderstanding. What he meant to say was ‘he loved you like a sister’.

When you didn’t speak, he continued to try and explain himself, hurriedly speaking again; something you hardly ever saw from him. Usually he was calm and cool, even when faced with uncomfortable situations.

“I tried to tell her I didn’t mean it and I had no clue why I said that, but she didn’t believe me. She kept saying ,‘I see the way you look at her’ and ‘Everyone knows it. I’m not stupid!’. So I just kept telling her she was crazy and started talking to you less and less to prove her wrong. But she never trusted me after that. And whenever she found out I was talking to you, it gave her more reason.”

“I-” you tried to speak, but he just kept talking, more unsettled now, “I kept trying to tell myself it was nothing. But when we broke up, the first person I thought of was you. I knew you were probably angry with me, but you helped me anyway. You were there for me like you always are. And I knew that Camille was right. It was always you. And honestly, I hated you for it.”

You recoiled, surprised as he started to get more agitated. He continued, “You were there since the start of it and you made me set this impossibly high standard for my relationships! That’s why they all failed miserably! That’s why they all hated you! Because they knew they couldn’t live up to you!”

“You’re blaming me for this?” you argued back, “I didn’t make you compare anyone to me! I didn’t even know because you were too chicken shit to say anything to me!”

“I couldn’t say anything to you! You were my best friend! I didn’t want to lose you! Those few months we didn’t talk were hell! I thought about you every day! Besides, what difference would it have made if I did tell you? You can’t honestly tell me you felt the same!”

“Stop assuming you know how I feel!”

“Well, am I wrong?!” he shot back, seething.

“Yes! You’re wrong!”

There was silence, the two of you just staring at each other, faces filled with frustration. His eyes flickered across your face, looking for some kind of sign as both of your chests rose and fell. His tongue grazed his lips, wetting them from all the yelling. And like the flash of light, both of you lunged forward at each other.

The mess of hands wildly roaming each other’s bodies and tangling in each other’s hair was dizzying. Hungrily, your tongues circled as if you were starved and the only salvation left was his breath entwined with yours. You both stood, only to be pushed backward on your desk, your keyboard slipping out from under you and crashing to the floor. You could feel your back press against your monitor as you eagerly fidgeted with the buttons on Harry’s shirt and before you could undo the last one, he had already managed to undo yours, pulling it down your arms and tossing it somewhere to the side.

Harry became impatient, finally pulling away from your lips and tanking open his shirt, making the last button pop off and roll underneath the desk. You for your first good look at each other; panting, out of breath. Half-naked, you could see every tattoo on his chest that you had always longed to kiss under the dim light of your flat and the veins in his arms bulged as he gripped onto the desk underneath your thighs. His eyes looked fierce and almost rabid as he looked you up and down. There was a moment of pause and thought. Slowly the two of you cracked a smile. And the smile turned into light laughter.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Harry whispered, pressing his forehead against yours and weaving his fingers through your hair just behind your ears as the warmth of his palms lay flat against your cheek.

You smiled, closing your eyes and placing your hands over top of his, breathing in his scent as you softly spoke, “Probably just as long as I’ve waited for you to do it.” And you gently pressed your lips to his once more.

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matbarzyy · 3 years

Text

Wasted Love (part 3) [T.S.]

A/N: I have no motivation to write so enjoy this even though I was supposed to make this chapter a lot longer. Hopefully I’ll be back with the rest of this series soon but who knows at this point lolz (getting this degree is going to end me)

Word count: 1932

Easter brought about yet another event at the rink. Alessia was quietly finishing up work in her office when 5pm rolled around, and she stretched into her seat before reaching for her phone. One last text from Claire had gone unanswered, but it was only one last confirmation of their plans for the night so Alessia didn’t make much of it.

Fridays were the only days everyone could really leave work on time, so she got up from her desk and began gathering her essentials back in her purse. She had plenty of time to get out, Claire was only meant to meet her in twenty minutes and they were hanging out at the bar across the street.

Ever since she had started taking time to be with the team after work Alessia had realised that letting Jordan believe she was working late was the best way for her to get some time with a friend.

“Allie let’s go!” Tyler barged into her office without so much as a knock. It startled her enough to make her jump, and she got ready to tell him off, the words about to leave her mouth until she saw the look of excitement on his face.

“Go where?” She softened, putting her bag over her shoulder.

“Come on,” he bounced on his feet and pulled her from behind her desk to drag her through the facility.

“What’s got you so excited?” Alessia exclaimed as she stumbled after him, following blindly and dodging a few people along the way.

She didn’t have to think much to know he was taking her to the rink, but what she didn’t understand was why. Tonight was a family skate, players with their wives and girlfriends, kids and other relatives. Alessia didn’t fit in there and she had already told Tyler she had other plans.

Tyler stopped abruptly when they reached their destination, and in her course Alessia almost sent them both toppling over. She still collided into his back, but he didn’t say anything about it.

“Look,” he motioned to the ring, decorated with a banner for the event and coloured fairy lights all over the place.

Families were on the ice, Alessia was able to spot Jamie among the others. The youngest players were messing around although mindful of the kids around, and the older ones taught their kids how to skate. Some held their babies, making them discover what being on the ice felt like for the first time.

Tonight was special and Alessia didn’t want to be in the middle of it. This was their own little universe, it was intimate and she was just one of their coworkers.

“Why do you want me to go?” She asked quietly because Tyler had mentioned she should come at least three times this week.

“Because now you’re with us, you should get to enjoy the fun parts of the job too. Weren’t you supposed to meet with a friend tonight?” He asked, watching her nod slowly. “Why don’t you tell her to come in, we’ll get her a pair of skates, it’ll be fun for everyone.”

Tyler’s excitement had died down, but he was still looking at her with the same expectant look in his eyes. His voice was calm, he used that soothing tone he always took to reassure her whenever she was stressed or upset, yet she still hesitated.

Jordan was the main thing on Alessia’s mind, and not in a positive way. His frustration about her staying out after work was still growing, the whole thing had escalated and Alessia didn’t want to upset him further.

“Ty, I really can’t stay late,”

“It’s five,” Tyler almost whined. “Live a little!” He made his tone cheerful again to get her to cave in.

He knew he had won the second she shook her head with a sigh, taking her phone out of her bag and texting Claire about the change of plans. She was too busy typing to see the way he beamed, but had Jamie been around he would have surely given Tyler the disapproving look he was growing accustomed to whenever he was around Allie.

What she did see was the way he bounced on his feet again as he got impatient waiting for her, and the corners of her lips rose. He could be such a child sometimes.

“Alright Seguin,” Alessia followed him to get a pair of skates, sitting on a bench to lace them. “You’re lucky I actually like skating,”

“Oh yeah?” His own skates replaced his shoes in what felt like half a second to Alessia. “Need help?” He noticed her pulling at the laces.

“I’m good,” she refused, finishing up fast enough and getting up again. The tightness around her feet was familiar, and she suddenly felt more excited about stepping onto the ice.

“Show me what you got,” Tyler motioned for her to go first.

In her confidence, Alessia forgot how many kids were on the ice on top of a bunch of reckless hockey players. She started off just fine and Tyler remained behind to watch, laughing at the way she showed off her skills, but as soon as a little girl cut off her trajectory she lost her balance.

Tyler stepped on the ice, gliding slowly to come help, but with a few awkward waves of her arms she almost regained her stability. She would have been just fine if someone hadn’t skated fast right next to her at that exact moment, startling her again and making her fall backwards.

Alessia’s exclamation when she hit the ice had Tyler rushing to be next to her in a few seconds.

“Are you okay?” He worried immediately, trying to see if she was hurt.

“You get slammed into the boards ten times harder and keep playing,” she winced as she pushed herself into a sitting position. “Of course I’m okay,” she reassured him and accepted his hand to get back to her feet. “Thanks,”

“I can see you’re a pro,” Tyler chuckled now that he was sure she was fine. “Thanks for the demo, champ.”

“I can skate!” Alessia defended herself, glaring at him and letting go of his hand to skate ahead of him, trying to prove her point.

“Yeah sure,” he laughed and ignored his protests, easily getting in front of her and turning around to skate backwards with her hands in his. “Let me just make sure you don’t end up on your ass again in less than ten seconds,”

“Rude,” she snorted but made no move to get out his hold.

They skated hand in hand for a while until Alessia’s phone pinged with yet another text that let her know Claire made it to the rink. They parted so that she could catch up with her friend and the two ended up holding hands as they talked and skated together.

“So this is your life now, uh?” Claire asked as they took a break on a bench.

“I mean, it’s actual work during the day but yeah,” Alessia leaned back against the wall behind them, taking in what she had achieved. “It still feels crazy that I made it here all on my own,”

“Well it’s not like Jordan would’ve been any help,” her friend snorted, earning a glare. “Oh come on,”

“You always make him sound so bad, we’ve been together for ages,” Alessia sighed and pouted a little, making her turn softer as she replied.

“No, you make him sound bad and I just put it in a less concealed way.” Claire brought her knee up on the bench to look at her. “When’s the last time you actually had a good time being around him?”

“We get along great at home,” her tone became defensive and Claire knew better than to try to have this conversation again.

“Okay,” she decided to drop it and stood back up. “Come on, let’s get back to it,”

Tyler saw them coming and stopped to let them step onto the ice without being trampled by the rest of the team. Most kids were tired now and off the ice, so things were getting a little rowdy.

“Ladies,” he motioned for them to go first, giving Alessia his stupidest grin to make her laugh.

“This is the first time you actually look like you have manners,” she teased because of something that had happened earlier during the week.

“Excuse me?” Tyler gasped, his hand over his hard to show his offense.

“You eat like an animal!” Alessia threw back, earning an eye roll and a whine from him.

“It was one time!” He complained before starting to make excuses for himself. “It didn’t have breakfast before practice and I was running late for a meeting, I had to be fast!”

“You’re disgusting,” she chuckled in response while Claire watched from the side, amused at the exchange.

“Oh I’m disgusting? You sure you wanna play that card in this situation?” He slowly inched closer to her, and since Alessia was facing him and had no chance of escaping by skating backwards she immediately started warning him.

“Tyler I swear to god I will- FUCK!” She screamed as he threw her over his shoulder and kept on skating. “I’ll kill you!” She tried to hit him but he was laughing too hard to care.

“Take it back!” He sped up, taking advantage of the space the others were clearing now that they were staring at the scene he was causing.

“Put me down you freak!” Alessia tried to wriggle out of his grasp and yelped when she felt his grip was less tight. At this speed she was too scared to fall from his shoulder if she moved too much.

“Insulting me isn’t helping,” Tyler said in a sing-song voice, a shit-eating grin taking up most of his face. He thought the situation was hilarious and he loved being the centre of attention.

“I’m sorry! You’re not disgusting! Just put me down!” Alessia pleaded, holding onto his jersey for dear life.

“There,” he laughed, helping her get steady on her skates. “See, that wasn’t so hard,”

“I hate you,” she grumbled as she adjusted her clothes and regained her balance.

Tyler gave her a playful eyeroll and held his hand out for her, which she didn’t hesitate to take so that they could skate back to the other side of the rink where Claire had stayed through the whole scene. She gave Alessia an unreadable look as she joined her again, and after skating and talking to them for a while Tyler went back to his team.

“You know…” Claire trailed off for a second, trying to find the right words as she once more noticed Tyler glancing back at them while he was supposedly busy with his friends. “I wouldn’t encourage you to like… cheat on someone, but that guy looks like he’s into you and he’s already a million times nicer than Jordan.” She eventually let out.

“Tyler?” Alessia almost choked on air. “No, god where did you get that idea? I’m sure he’s not interested, and it’s not like I’d be either. Jordan is… I’m with him and that’s not going to change anytime soon. I’d never do that to him.”

“I’m not sure Jordan thinks of you as highly as you think of him,” She watched as her friend shut her out once more, so she held back a sigh and tried once more to knock some sense into her. “Keep this one around, he looks like he’s a good friend for you.”

tags: @itrocksmysocks @kerwritesthings @pupsandpucks @shawnsreputation @whythough1319 @smit41 @glassdanse @fiveholegoal @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @thefootballfaithfull

tumblr decided to be a bitch with the tags, strikethrough means I couldn’t get the tag to work.

Please reblog and let me know what you thought

#tyler seguin #dallas stars #segs #tyler seguin fic #tyler seguin fluff #tyler seguin angst #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #tyler seguin imagine #wasted love #wasted love 3

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

TMT One-Shot

F/M Pairing: Y/N x 3racha (Stray Kids)

Word Count: 8K

Genre: High School AU

Warnings: Lots of smut and language; mentions of alcohol

Summary: Y/N is the shy, awkward girl who can’t talk to boys while doing her best to exist as a shadow throughout her high school life. Her two brothers, Minho and Felix, are the complete opposite. Minho is the cool, suave music addict who wants to be in his own band one day, while Felix is the stereotypical popular kid whose best friend, Han Jisung, tirelessly trails after his friend’s older sister. However, despite their differences, the three siblings share a very close relationship and Y/N considers them to be her only real friends.

One day, Minho brings home two classmates from his community college and Y/N realizes, for the very first time, that the sweet taste of desire is highly addictive.

When my mother died, I was only 10-years-old. She slipped away like a ghost, quietly and without notice, and I was left feeling broken on the inside. If I was a therapist, unlike the contemptuous older woman who always spoke to me with a condescending tone, I’d likely attribute the traumatic event to the person I started to become.

Instead of bouncing back from her death like my brothers Minho and Felix, I started to feel sad all the time. Accordingly, I lost many of the friends I met in Elementary school because I chose to sit quietly in my classes when I didn't feel like talking to anyone else. Likewise, I also declined their invitations to visit their houses or ride with their parents to the movie theaters. Actually, I exchanged those friendships for the solitude of my bedroom at home where I usually spent the evening staring vacantly at the ceiling while trying not to cry anymore.

Yeah, I guess it was kinda my fault.

Overtime, my status evolved from the kind, amiable Y/N who everyone at school admired, to the sullen and despondent weird girl who sometimes spoke to imaginary friends. I spent recesses inside with my teachers, helping them clean the whiteboard. During lunch, I sat alone with my school tray and thought about how my mother used to pack my lunches for me because I complained about the mystery meatloaf....Oh, right, thinking about my mother inevitably made me feel sad again and sometimes I cried at school in front of my classmates.

Needless to say, my youth wasn’t exactly as voracious as my peers...or even my brothers for that matter. Actually, Minho and Felix were perfectly normal because they mourned our mother’s death for several months before inexplicably moving on as if it had never happened. Thereafter, Minho developed a passion for music and my father allowed him to take guitar and piano lessons after school. Felix started to play sports and he was quite good at baseball despite his smaller stature. Likewise, in between classes, I heard my classmates frequently gossiping about my brothers: mysterious and alluring Minho who all the older girls adored, and popular and beloved Felix who was the envy of our classmates.

I didn’t mind being considered an outsider in comparison to my brothers because they still treated me like a friend. In fact, my brothers and I were extremely close, especially after our mother’s death. Despite my introverted tendencies, Minho and Felix often went out of their way to include me in their activities. For example, Minho liked to offer his demos as background music for the raunchier parties in our town and he always begged me to come along and hear his new songs. My older brother was so incredibly talented that I rarely refused his offers, finding myself sitting next to Felix in the backseat of Minho’s car while we drove across town to the wealthier districts. I would spend the rest of the night hanging around my brothers while listening to Minho sing about everything from his ex-girlfriends to the pot he liked to smoke with some of the younger guys.

In any case, I could always count on my brothers to liven my spirits, which might explain why I was so uncomfortable when Minho graduated and applied for University. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing because Minho was only driving thirty minutes everyday to attend his classes and he still lived at home. But it still felt like an unwanted change, and I wasn’t sure how to cope with my brother’s sudden desire to build a studio in the basement of our childhood home while he brought new classmates to fawn over his equipment.

Thankfully, I managed to avoid the unfamiliar faces, and I started spending more time with Felix. Unfortunately, spending time with Felix inevitably forced me to endure the endless pandering from some of his more unsavory acquaintances. For example, when I wanted to play video games one afternoon, I knocked twice on Felix’s door only to find myself in the company of someone who was decidedly the complete opposite of my brother. His name was Han Jisung, and he was Felix’s best friend. “Y/N,” he said quietly, sheepishly attempting to fix the mop on top of his head. “How are you?”

“Fine,” I said, glancing over Jisung’s shoulder. “Where’s Felix?”

“Bathroom,” Jisung said, pointing at the door.

I groaned. “Are you busy?”

“We’re never too busy for you,” Jisung smirked, but he always flirted with me shamelessly as if he didn’t care that I was Felix’s older sister.

I ignored Jisung when I walked into Felix’s bedroom, finding a relatively clean spot on his bed to wait for his return. In the meantime, Jisung lingered by the doorway, watching me with those ridiculous dark eyes. “I heard Minho made another demo.”

“He’s always making demos,” I replied, wondering why Felix was determined to take his time for once.

“Yeah, but he’s really proud of this one.”

“Minho thinks he’s a genius,” I said. “If you were to ask him, then every song he made would be a masterpiece.”

“Well, he’s the reason why I've started to pursue music.”

“You?” I scoffed, finding the idea of Jisung as a creator of anything other than enormous messes on the kitchen counter to be nothing short of hilarious. “Jisung, you can’t even finish your math homework.”

“That’s not true!” Jisung protested. “It’s just not that interesting, and I like music so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“You’ll find something else to like in a few months,” I said, watching as he frowned with that ridiculous pout he always wore when he wasn’t getting his way.

“Yeah? Well, when my first mixtape comes out,” Jisung grumbled.

“I’ll be the first one asking for an autograph,” I teased him, rolling my eyes when he sat next to me and held up his pinky finger.

“Promise?”

“Fine,” I sighed before trying to move further away from Jisung.

He didn’t allow the space for very long, sliding right up against me without any traces of his previous frustrations. “Y/N,” Jisung said, hand reaching out for my shoulder. “There’s a party this Friday.”

“I’m not in the mood for a party,” I said. “I have a lot of homework this weekend, and-”

“Actually, Minho invited us,” Felix interrupted, and I didn’t even realize that my brother had returned. I was also surprised to see Minho behind him, stretching his arms above his head like he had forgotten to sleep again last night.

“You’re going too?” I asked Minho.

“It’s Chan’s party,” Minho explained. “He’s playing some of my demo tracks.”

“Bang Chan,” I repeated, narrowing my eyes because I had heard my brother mention that name dozens of times. Actually, if I didn’t know any better, then I would think Minho had some kind of infatuation with his new college friend.

“I think Minho is in love,” Felix teased, dodging Minho’s playful swing before he joined Jisung and I on the edge of his bed.

“He’s just a friend from one of my lectures,” Minho said.

“Minho also thinks he’s a genius,” Felix whispered to me, but it was loud enough for our brother to overhear.

“You like him too,” Minho protested.

“Felix met him?”

“Last week,” Felix beamed. “Minho and I ran into him on the way to get coffee. Your lazy ass was still asleep at 12:00.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled. “I stayed up late to finish an essay.”

“College will kick your ass, Y/N,” Minho said. “If you can’t survive high school literature...”

“I get it,” I groaned. “I don’t want another lecture.”

“Good, but you’re still coming to the party because I want you to meet Chan and hear your brother’s masterpiece.”

“Please stop calling your mixtape a masterpiece.”

“I’ll consider it,” Minho smirked, “as long as I see you at Chan’s house this Friday.”

“This is considered blackmail, Minho,” I sighed. “But fine, I’ll need the time and address, please.”

I stood on the porch in the frigid cold wearing a party dress that might’ve been overkill, and I had a desire to return to my house because nobody was answering the door. Actually, when I really thought about it, this complex was too nice for a college student, unless Chan had discovered Blackbeard’s treasure or something. I snorted at my own joke, waiting impatiently for someone to let me inside because my brothers weren’t responding to my text messages.

The music sounded faint from behind the door, which made me wonder if Minho had given me the wrong address. It wouldn’t be the first time that my brother gave me some kind of misinformation, but I thought he really wanted me to come tonight and hear his music. “Hello!” I yelled, banging my fist against the door. “Minho? I’m leaving in exactly ten seconds if nobody lets me inside!”

I started the countdown in my head, jumping up and down to warm my muscles, when a sudden expulsion of heat relieved the tension slowly numbing my fingers. “There you are,” Felix said with a drunken smile.

“Isn’t too early for you to be plastered?”

Felix giggled. “They’re playing Minho’s music next.”

“Well, let me inside you asshole,” I said, pushing my way into the house because my brother had clearly forgotten that it was basically snowing outside.

“What do you think?” Felix asked. “It’s pretty nice.”

“I can’t see anything,” I complained, narrowing my eyes since it was difficult to notice the details when the house was packed wall to wall with intoxicated college students. The lights were also dimmed, which meant that walking was an unnecessary chore as Felix took my hand and brought me into the kitchen where he promised Minho was waiting.

At least he wasn’t fully incapable.

“Y/N,” Minho grinned, tossing an arm around my shoulder as he pulled me closer, allowing me to smell the nasty liquor on his breath.

“Drunk at your mixtape reveal party?”

Minho laughed. “I haven’t had much.”

“Felix has,” I said, grimacing when I spotted my younger brother bouncing from person to person with an unmaintainable energy.

“Let him have fun,” Minho said. “I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“Whatever, but he’s your responsibility in the morning when he’s suffering from a hangover.”

“I’ll handle it,” Minho reassured me. “Anyway, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Oh?”

“Chan! Get your ass over here!”

“What a good friend you are,” I remarked, and I was fully prepared to tease my brother further until I realized that Minho was waving down one of the most attractive men I had ever seen.

Chan was absolutely gorgeous, appearing nothing short of debauched under the low-hanging lights of the kitchen. Neatly styled blonde-hair parted down the middle, and bright blue eyes that held the stars inside an endless sea of black. “Are you guys having fun?” he asked with an accent that I couldn’t place.

“The place is fucking awesome, man,” Minho said, wrapping an arm around Chan’s shoulders as he nodded in my direction. “This is my sister,” Minho said with a proud smile.

“Hello,” I said, cringing at my tone.

“Y/N,” Chan smiled, and I decided that nobody could ever say my name again with such a sexy tenor.

“You have a lovely home,” I said, swallowing hard when Chan leaned in closer.

“Minho talks about you a lot,” Chan said with a smirk. “Do you want something to drink?”

I nodded without thinking, keeping my eyes trained on his beautiful visage as a beer slipped into my hand. “Pace yourself,” Minho warned me, but I ignored him as I swallowed down the bile-tasting liquid.

“I like her,” Chan nodded, looking at me seductively from over the top of his bottle.

“She’s a bit uptight,” Minho chuckled, and I glared at him because this was not the time to embarrass me. “Are my songs playing next?”

“I’ll make sure everything is ready,” Chan said, giving me one last lingering look.

“Let’s find a good place to hear everything,” Minho suggested, and I followed my brother with thoughts and fantasies consumed by Bang Chan.

Minho’s mixtape was really good, and I begrudgingly congratulated my brother and even allowed him to tell everyone that it was, in fact, a masterpiece. However, while my brother was distracted by a group of younger fan-girls, I slipped away to try and find somewhere peaceful to recover from my headache. It had developed sometime between the pounding bass line of “BEWARE” and the aggressive tone of “Boxer.”

I paused next to the foyer where there were considerably less people. In fact, only one student lingered next to the open window, and I leaned against the wall as I closed my eyes against the distinct ringing in my ears. Next time, I would wear earplugs when Minho forced me to stand at the speakers.

“You’re not going to pass out, right?”

I blinked several times as the room swam into focus. “I’ll probably make it.”

“There’s a bathroom upstairs,” the rough voice continued, and I finally addressed the hooded figure standing at the window. I realized that he was smoking, holding the bud of the cigarette outside so that the ashes collected somewhere on the porch. “I’m Changbin,” he smirked.

“Oh,” I cleared my throat. “Do you mind if I share the window?”

He shrugged, tossing his hood back so that I could see the way his black hair fell flat against his head. “Sure.”

I carefully felt my way along the wall until the generous cold breeze was hitting my flushed skin. “Thank god,” I groaned, practically forcing my head outside.

“Drink too much?”

“A combination of that and the music.”

“I heard a rumor that the beer was definitely spiked,” he said, dark eyes looking me over. “You’re obviously new here.”

“I’m with my brother,” I offered cautiously in response to his sudden advances.

“Do I know him?”

“Lee Minho.”

Changbin’s eyes widened. “We’re in the same music composition lecture. I thought he mentioned you in class.”

“He invited me,” I continued, but I didn’t understand why I felt the need to justify myself to him.

“I bet he did,” Changbin nodded. “Why would he hide you from us?”

I shivered. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“Is that right?” he asked before cornering me against the wall with a hungry gaze. “You hear the song playing?”

I nodded. “It’s loud.”

Changbin chuckled. “I made it.”

I nodded again because that certainly explained the explicit lyrics. “It’s...interesting?”

“Yeah?” Changbin purred. “Do you like it?”

“I do,” I gasped, feeling one of his hands grab me around the waist.

His lips brushed against mine, soft and sensual, while he inhaled deeply. “Y/N, is this your first party?”

“No,” I whispered because it suddenly felt like we were the only two people left in the room.

“I just assumed,” he said. “From the way you’re reacting.”

“W-what?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you wanted to go someplace else with me,” Changin said.

I was completely baffled by his assumption, searching for the right words, but they never came. However, the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat forced us apart, and I was surprised to see Chan standing so close. “I guess you’ve met Minho’s little sister,” Chan said and I hated how immature the introduction sounded.

“She made sure to tell me,” Changbin smirked. “I can’t believe we haven’t met before.”

“He’s looking for her,” Chan continued, and I was confused by the hostility in his tone. “You probably shouldn’t do anything.”

“Wasn’t gonna,” Changbin retorted, planting one of his hands next to my head. “She’s feeling sick. Tell Minho I can take her home.”

“He won’t like that.”

“Oh? Is anyone else sober?”

Chan was quiet for a moment, eyes darting between the two of us. “Wait here.”

“What a good host,” Changbin snarked, but Chan was already walking away and I was starting to feel the effects of my alcoholic consumption darken the edges of my vision.

My brother was nothing short of incoherent, swaying back against Chan as he tried to give me a stern look. “Y/N, I hope you didn’t drink too much.”

“Really?” I snorted. “Isn’t that hypocritical?”

Of course, my admonishment had no effect on Minho. “Chan said that you were feeling sick.”

“It’s just a headache,” I said, although my churning stomach seemed to suggest otherwise.

“I thought I could take Y/N home,” Changbin interrupted. “I guess she could use some fresher air.”

“Sure,” Minho nodded, eyes glassy. “I don’t mind.”

Minho was readily willing to entrust his sister into the care of someone she had just met, and that’s when I knew that he couldn’t be trusted to take me anywhere. “Is that what you want?” Chan asked.

I shrugged because it might be nice to finally escape the endless drumming of Chan’s intricate sound system. “I might be saving myself some trouble.”

“I need more cigarettes,” Changbin said. “I’m running low and I know there’s a store near Minho’s house.

I frowned, but figured that Minho had brought Changbin over to our house before during that brief phase at the start of his college semester when I saw a new face in the basement every week. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“As long as you behave,” Chan warned him quietly, but I never had the opportunity to question him before Changbin was forcing us both outside onto the main porch where the snow was starting to build along the sidewalks.

“This way,” Changbin said, resting one of his hands against my lower back as he guided us down the street.

Changbin’s car was a very old model and the paint was starting to peel from the doors. He helped me inside slowly, reaching for my seat-belt before I slapped his hands out of the way because I could manage to do that by myself. He chuckled at my glare. “Comfortable?”

I nodded in response and waited for him to turn on the ignition before I was savoring the accompanying blast of heat even though it smelled distinctly of ashes. “Minho’s little sister,” Changbin said, eyes focused on the road in front of him. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah,” I replied because the growing distance between us and Chan’s party music was actually nice. “I guess the music gave me a headache.”

“That’s how Chan likes it,” Changbin said. “He’s gotten at least a dozen noise complaints from this past month alone.”

“How many parties does he have!”

Changbin smirked. “He likes to keep his house full.”

“It might’ve been too much tonight,” I said, leaning my head against the cold window. “I’ve never seen so many people.”

“Exams,” Changbin said. “When college students feel stressed, they like to get shitfaced.”

“But you’re not drunk.”

“Who said that I was stressed?”

His tone was strangely flirtatious, especially when he looked at me. “You didn’t have to help me, you know?”

“I know, but it was my window we were sharing,” Changbin said. “You looked like you were seconds away from crashing.”

“I can take care of myself,” I replied, even though it was rather harsh to criticize someone who was currently neglecting the speed limit to take my home as quickly as possible. “When did you meet Minho?”

“A few weeks ago,” Changbin said. “We worked on a project together.”

“I guess you’ve already been to my house.”

“Yeah, but I sure as hell don’t remember seeing you.”

“I don’t really like to socialize with most of my brother’s friends.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Changbin said, briefly glancing at me. “Are you that type? The unattainable girl next door?”

“I just don’t like people,” I grumbled, but Changbin seemed to think it was funny, laughing at my expense while reaching down to turn on the radio despite the fact that music had caused my headache in the first place.

Of course, I didn’t want to be that type, so I endured his self-promotion, listening to his gravelly voice suspend the entire car into some kind of hip-hip haven. He talked his way through the introductions of every song on his mixtapes, bragging about his compositions and arrangements. “It’s all about authenticity,” he explained when we finally pulled into my driveway.

“Is that so?” I sighed, frowning when I realized Felix had forgotten to turn on the front porch light.

“I guess I should wait until you’re inside,” Changbin chuckled.

“Thanks,” I said, reaching out for the door handle.

“Woah! Baby, where are you going?” Changbin asked, and I quickly returned my hands to my lap. “Are you trying to get away from me?”

“No,” I shook my head, breathing heavily when he reached for my thigh.

“You probably don’t hear this a lot,” Changbin continued. “But you’re really sexy.”

I startled at his words. “Thank you?”

“I mean it, Y/N,” he continued, fingers inching along my thigh like it was free real estate. “Thank god you wanted to share my window.”

I shook my head rapidly when he turned off the ignition, navigating the waistband of his panties to drag his hand against my sensitive core. “What are you doing?” I whispered.

“I’m trying to make you feel good,” he said. “Do you want me to?”

I nodded this time, waiting with my fists balled against the leather seats while he penetrated the soft walls of my core, moving in and out slowly to help me adjust to his fingers. I tried to relax, dropping my shoulders and controlling the way I was panting in desperation for more of the addicting feeling he was creating in my lower abdomen. It all felt entirely scandalous, feeling the way his fingers dragged across my insides, curling against the most responsive parts and watching me with an intensity that I could barely tolerate. I was moaning for him, calling his name softly because he was starting to increase his movements, and I focused on the way his wrist reappeared from underneath my skirt before losing itself in a sea of denim fabric.

“It’s wet,” he remarked, and the sounds of his penetration were growing louder, intermingling with my rapid breaths and the dark tone of his voice. “I can feel it.”

I knew what he meant because my entire body was pulsing in time to the pace in which he played with me. It was like I was his personal experiment, testing how I reacted to certain touches, especially when he crooked his fingers and a moan would displace the temporary quiet. “Changbin,” I whined, reaching for his arm because everything was starting to feel overwhelming.

“I got you,” he said. “You’ve been so good for me, Y/N, I’m not gonna stop until you cum.”

I orgasmed at his filthy words, falling down from the place he sent me and into a deep headspace. He pulled his fingers back, holding them up so that I could clearly see the evidence of my release in the faint light from the street lamp outside. “You didn’t expect that,” Changbin said calmly, reaching for a tissue from the backseat while I tried to figure out what just happened. “I don’t really care who your brother is,” he continued, moving in close. “I think we should fuck next time.”

“Changbin,” I said, “if Minho finds out-”

“Why are you always worried about him?”

“He’s my brother!”

“Oh? Well, in that case, since you want to be good for your older brother,” Changbin smirked. “I guess I’ll have to find a different way to see you again.”

The next morning, I took a shower because I could still feel traces of Changbin’s touches between my thighs. The water was hot, fogging up the mirrors and making it difficult to breathe. It was necessary because I could function better when I re-emerged with fresh clothes and a sudden hunger for those little chocolate muffins my mom bought at the store.

I walked downstairs, noticing Felix and Jisung both sitting at the counter while they talked over their breakfast. Felix noticed me first, watching as I grabbed a leftover pastry from the fridge before leaning back against the cabinets. “Did you have fun last night?” he asked.

I narrowed my eyes, but then I realized that his question was innocent because he definitely didn’t know about Changbin. “It was nice.”

“What are you doing today?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I haven’t made plans.”

“You can hang out with me and Jisung today,” Felix suggested. “We’re just going for coffee.”

Jisung met my gaze from over the table and he quickly looked away as if he wasn’t expecting the contact. “Yeah,” I nodded. “I could use some coffee.”

It wasn’t often that I accompanied Felix and Jisung when they decided to actually leave the house and my brother’s massive collection of video games. Felix was never the problem, but I could only endure so much of Jisung’s flirtations before I inevitably made another pointless vow to try and ignore him. It was an impossible promise to keep since Felix was practically glued to his hip, and I can’t remember the last time Jisung actually spent the night at his own home.

However, coffee was nice and the taste was bile so it sat heavy on my tongue and provided a good distraction, even if that meant listening to my brother and Felix talk about the party. “I met Chan,” Jisung said. “He was really cool.”

Felix nodded, eyeing his coffee with obvious distaste. “Minho seems to like him.”

“He introduced me to his partner, Changbin,” Jisung continued and I fidgeted nervously at the mention of his name. “Apparently, they do a lot of work together.”

“I’ve heard their stuff,” Felix said, finally pushing away his coffee cup in exchange for his orange juice. “I think they’re really talented.”

“It’s like you’re meeting real professionals,” Jisung gushed and I rolled my eyes. “I let them listen to one of my demos,” Jisung chuckled. “I think they want to work together.”

“Really?” Felix gasped. “That’s amazing!”

“I guess they need another partner,” I remarked, shivering when I thought about my encounter with Changbin from the previous evening.

“You can always come with me to the studio tomorrow,” Jisung said. “If you want.”

The idea of being alone with Jisung wasn’t exactly high on my list of priorities. “I don’t know...”

“Changbin will be there too,” Jisung added. “Minho said he really thought you were cool at the party.”

“I bet he did,” I grumbled.

“Why are you inviting her instead of your best friend?” Felix pouted.

“You said you needed to work on a project,” Jisung reminded him. “Actually, you made me swear to keep away distractions!”

“Alright, fine,” Felix sighed. “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean that I’m okay with it.”

Jisung ignored my brother’s sullen expression. “Y/N? Do you want to come?”

“I guess,” I said, and I had no idea what possessed me to agree with his request until it was too late.

The next morning, I met Jisung outside of the address he had sent to my phone with several rather inappropriate emojis. I made sure to scold him for the messages, but he was far too excited, ignoring my complaints when he started talking about the new project he was working on with Chan and Changbin. “Come on,” he said, holding open the door as I walked inside the tiny lobby of the simple two-story building. “We’re on the top floor,” Jisung smirked as if that was something to brag about considering the condition of the worn-down warehouse they were using as a studio.

However, I knew that he was excited, so I feigned a smile as he continued talking about the building’s intricate history while we walked up the staircase to pause outside of a studio room. “Is this it?” I asked.

He nodded, reaching for the door handle. “They should be inside.”

True to his word, Chan and Changbin were standing together in front of a large computer monitor, turning around when they heard me and Jisung enter the room together. “There you are,” Chan said, but his gaze was strangely focused on me.

“We have some stuff for you to hear,” Changbin said, stretching his arms above his head. “I need some coffee first.”

“There’s a gas station down the road,” Jisung said. “I’ll go with you?”

Changbin looked at me for a moment before agreeing to Jisung’s proposal. “We’ll have plenty of time to work when we get back.”

“You’re in for a surprise, Jisung,” Chan said. “Actually, while the two of you are gone, maybe Y/N could look at some of the tracks?”

“Really?” I asked, surprised that he would be so willing to share, but he was already dragging me down into the desk chair, pulling me closer to the monitor.

“You can take you time and browse,” he said, joining Jisung and Changbin at the door.

They started talking about something else, but I was too busy admiring the vast number of tracks listened in sequential order on Chan’s computer. Despite how I might feel about Changbin, it was impossible to deny that their work was impressive, spreading across years of effort. It felt like I was being allowed an intimate glimpse of the artists who were growing more popular everyday.

“Try to be back in twenty minutes,” Chan said, and I watched Jisung and Changbin leave together, whispering in low tones while Chan shut the door behind them. “Your music is really good,” I said, scrolling through the library of his songs. It only made him that much more appealing when I could see the evidence of his passion.

“Are we going to stop playing games, Y/N?”

I frowned at his question, turning around in the chair. “What do you mean?”

Chan smirked, and I realized that it wasn’t playful. “Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are?” he asked.

“Chan...” I trailed off, frozen in place while he slowly leered in my direction, taking several, meaningful steps before he was bracing himself on either side of the desk behind me.

“Changbin told me about what happened in the car.”

I swallowed hard. “W-what?”

“Is that all it takes? A couple of fingers to satisfy you?”

“Chan, I don’t understand,” I tried, gasping when he picked me up out of the chair, legs wrapping around his waist automatically before he sat me down on the desk.

“Do you want it again?” Chan asked, running his hands alongside my waist before crawling his finger across the bare skin of my thighs, disregarding the thin barrier of my skirt. I felt him press the palm of his hand against my wet heat, fingers testing the edges of my panties. “I can make you feel good.”

The sensation was too much, and I found myself nodding without really thinking about the consequences. “Please.”

His fingers were suddenly penetrating my delicate walls, sliding in and out at a vicious pace that left me aching for something more. “Tell me, Y/N,” Chan demanded, using his thumb to circle my throbbing clitoris. “How does it feel?”

“I want it, Chan,” I moaned, bracing my hands against his firm chest as he continued to pleasure me. Unlike Changbin, I could tell that Chan was determined to make me cum as soon as possible, twisting his hand and jamming his fingers like he was aiming to make me lose my mind. I practically fell against him crying, riding out the waves of my high, while he ignored my whimpers when everything was suddenly feeling overstimulated.

“Come here,” he said, pulling out his fingers before falling against his chair and patting his thighs.

My legs were shaking when Chan helped me onto his lap and I moaned when his fingers crooked against my walls again. “Do you want my cock?” he asked and I nodded viciously, sending strands of my hair flying in all directions. “What a good girl,” he snarled, ripping his fingers away and leaving me whining around the empty space he left behind.

“Chan,” I groaned, resting my head against his shoulder while I watched him make a show out of undoing the belt around his waist, unzipping his skinny jeans before shoving the material down his thighs. His erection strained the silky material of his boxer shorts, and I was practically salivating.

He reached down to rub himself through his shorts, outlining his cock in a way that made me realize that I wasn’t going to leave this studio without an obvious limp. “Y/N,” he said. “Take off your skirt for me.”

I whined, but obeyed him instantly, bracing one hand against his shoulder while the other practically ripped the fine material of the pretty skirt down my legs and into the studio floor. Chan’s eyes darkened, grabbing my waist between his hands to grind the front of my soaked panties against his erection. “Please,” I cried, wanting nothing more than to take matters into my own hands, but Chan’s grip was impossible to break.

“I’m going to fuck this little pussy,” Chan growled. “Can you last long enough for me to come inside?”

“Yes,” I whined, stuttering around a broken sob when he pulled his cock into the studio light, stretching my panties to the side before sinking deep inside my pulsing heat.

“That’s right,” Chan said, eyes closed. “You feel so good.”

“Chan,” I moaned, eye widening when the stretch felt impossible, like he was splitting me open even when common sense told me that it was just my body accommodating to his cock.

His hips slammed into mine, and I could barely reciprocate when he easily overpowered my attempts to meet him somewhere between our bodies. Instead, he took control and I let him have it because he knew exactly what to do before sending me over the edge again, ignoring my cries when he continued to chase his own high, grunting against my ear when he came inside.

“Y/N,” he sighed, keeping me in place despite the fact that his cock was completely flaccid. “Such a good girl.”

I was incoherent and incapable of offering a response in return. Instead, I buried my face into the side of his neck, smelling the scent of his cologne mixed with sweat and the sex polluting the air around us. His body was firm and warm, and I closed my eyes because everything felt like an incredibly lucid dream.

I was still exhausted from the previous afternoon, unable to walk much further than from my bedroom to the living room before the painful reminder of my unexpected session with Chan started to ache between my legs. There was a movie playing on the television, but I was only somewhat focused on the lazy plot and characters. Instead, I was thinking about my interactions with Chan and Changbin, wondering if the two men were playing some sort of mind game with me.

I only managed to tear myself away from those thoughts when I saw Minho as he walked down the stairs with Felix and Jisung talking about something to do with a sports competition. “There you are!” Felix exclaimed. “We were just talking about your visit to the studio with Jisung.”

“I heard you got a tour,” Minho said. “That was nice of them.”

“Yeah,” I agree because there was a lot more to talk about besides the tour of the dilapidated studio.

“I haven’t had a chance to visit,” Minho said. “But they said I could record my new demo there.”

“Another one!” Felix gasped, looking at my brother with wide eyes. “You’re a fucking genius, man.”

“Oh, I know,” Minho smirked. “Actually, I can show you before my first lecture,” Minho said, starting in the direction of his bedroom.

Jisung watched Felix trail behind Minho before he joined me on the couch. “What did you think of the studio?”

I swallowed hard. “It was fine.”

“I think it’s really nice,” Jisung said. “Chan said something making us a permanent trio! He even gave us a name and everything!”

“Oh?”

“3racha,” Jisung giggled. “It’s like a pun-”

“Yeah, I get it,” I sighed impatiently. “I’m trying to watch the movie.”

Jisung was undeterred by the sharp comment, and he buried himself further into the cushions before turning his attention back to the screen.

“Our first show is tomorrow, Y/N,” Jisung giggled, and I finally turned to look at him. “I hope you can watch?”

“Where?”

“It’s a club somewhere downtown. I can send you the address? I know that Chan and Changbin were both insisting that you come.”

“I’m sure they were,” I grumbled, but Jisung was more interested in talking about his contributions to the album.

“It would mean a lot to me,” he managed after thoroughly explaining their newest concept. “You don’t even have to stay for the whole show.”

“I don’t know...”

“Minho and Felix are coming!” he quickly added, and I wondered if he knew that I would feel more comfortable with my brothers around.

“Okay,” I finally relented, groaning when he started jumping up and down on the couch like an overzealous puppy.

I rode to the club with Minho and Felix who were excitedly chattering about the impending concert while I looked out the window despondently. It felt like a huge risk to show up to the concert considering the recent events concerning my meetings with Chan and Changbin. However, I didn’t want my brothers to be suspicious, so I reluctantly followed them inside where we squeezed together around one of the tables in the middle of an enormous crowd.

The atmosphere was euphoric, draped in a haze of alcohol and the flashing neon lights decorating the stage. It was actually quite civil considering the fact that we were moments away from listening to loud music full of pounding bass and fast rapping. I was half-way convinced that the other guests had no idea what they were actually getting themselves into by coming here tonight.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” an annoucement blared overheard, “please welcome, 3racha!”

The audience started clapping while a familiar melody began softly playing, and the fans around me started to cheer for the three shadowy figures who had suddenly walked onto the stage. “Let’s go!” Chan shouted, beginning his verse of the song which I now recognized as one of the tracks they had played for me at the studio. They were all wearing black, matching the tone and vibe of their music, playing through each track with an infectious energy. However, I was still unnerved because I noticed that they all managed to look at me at some point, even though the crowd, and I was starting to feel hot all over my entire body.

“They’re really good,” Felix remarked, and I nodded in return even though I was finding the table much more interesting.

“Thank you, 3racha!” an overhead announcement said and the audience were rising to their feet in synchrony to offer the artists a round of applause for their stage.

“Jisung sounded amazing!” Felix said as if he couldn’t resist the opportunity to brag about his friend.

“Maybe we can meet them backstage,” Minho suggested, and I halfheartedly protested when my brothers forced me to accompany them.

Subsequently, Minho forced Felix and I to wait by the stage for his friends because he was convinced that I really didn’t have an important project to complete before tomorrow. “You never do anything last minute, Y/N,” he said, smiling when he spotted Chan’s messy hair from the middle of the crowd.

“Hey!” Chan greeted him, accepting Minho’s failed attempt at a cool handshake. Changbin and Jisung followed him, and I couldn’t help but notice how the youngest had started to stumble on his feet.

“You guys did great,” Minho said, talking extensively about his favorite performance while a sudden bombardment of alcohol hit my senses.

I instantly recoiled, covering my nose when the smell grew stronger. “How much did you drink, Jisung?”

“Not much,” the younger boy slurred, and I noticed that his eyes were distant.

“I’ll grab us more drinks,” Changbin said, giving me a familiar dark look before disappearing into the surrounding crowd.

“He’ll be fine,” Felix said, tossing an arm around Jisung’s shoulder. “You deserve to celebrate tonight, man!”

I tugged on Minho’s sleeve to catch his attention, unwittingly drawing Chan’s gaze at the same time. “I think he’s drunk.”

Minho sighed, ready to launch into one of his world-famous lectures, when he was interrupted by the DJ onstage who confronted Chan. “Hey! We couldn’t find you after the show.”

Chan rolled his eyes. “I was out here the entire time.”

“Well, you need to pick up your CD backstage,” the DJ said. “The owners will throw it out tomorrow.”

“I’ll be right there,” Chan grumbled while glaring at the DJ.

“Now,” the man growled and Chan quietly excused himself with a brittle tone. Meanwhile, I had to help Felix with Jisung because his friend was starting to sway dangerously back and forth.

“He needs to go home,” I sighed, watching as Jisung leaned more of his weight against a much smaller Felix.

“I’d take him, but I already had two beers,” Minho said, looking at Felix expectantly.

“Me!” Felix whined. “But I want to stay.”

“He’s your friend,” I glowered.

“Alright,” Minho groaned. “Y/N, you haven’t had anything to drink and you’re way more responsible than Felix.”

It was easy to meet Minho’s stern gaze since this was the perfect opportunity to finally leave the club. “Fine, I’ll take Jisung home.”

“Then it’s settled,” he agreed, tossing me his spare set of car keys. “Take him to our place.”

“Okay,” I said, groaning when Felix helped Jisung wrap his arms around my shoulders and waist. The additional weight was burdensome, and I cursed Jisung under my breath as I helped him through the club to where the bouncer waited at the exit. “I’ll never let you forget this,” I hissed, waiting for the bouncer to open the door while I took one last look over my shoulder to check on my brothers. Instead, I found myself looking directly into Changbin’s dark eyes as he waited by the bar, a familiar smirk making him appear even more dangerous. I shivered in response before I slowly shuffled to the car with Jisung practically breathing down my neck.

When I finally managed to accompany Jisung inside my house, I unceremoniously deposited him on the couch, ignoring the way he groaned in complaint. “I’ll find you some medicine,” I said, searching through one of the side tables.

“It hurts,” Jisung whined, and I rolled my eyes after shoving a bottle of Aspirin in his direction.

“Remember that when you decide to be stupid again.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, dropping two pills into his hand before swallowing them eagerly.

I grimaced as I sat down next to him. “When did you start drinking?”

“Before the show,” Jisung said. “Changbin said it would help take the edge off.”

“Yeah? Do me a favor and don’t listen to him anymore,” I said, frowning when Jisung curled closer to my side. “What are you doing?”

“Tired,” he said, looking up at me with a smile. “You look beautiful.”

I scoffed, trying to push him away, but alcohol apparently made him bolder because he was suddenly twisting one leg around my hip to hold himself in place. “Jisung, you need to stop,” I said, gasping when he brought his lips against mine, kissing me with skill and a surprising amount of tongue. “We can’t do this!”

“Please,” Jisung whined, grinding his hips against my legs. “Just one night, Y/N?”

“Your drunk,” I said, which was only one of a dozen problems with the scenarios currently playing out right in front of my very eyes.

“I’m sober,” Jisung promised, frantically chasing my lips with eager kisses.

It was nothing short of desire, the way he was looking at me, while I watched our clothes end up in a pile around the couch as Jisung fumbled with the condom before I helped him roll it onto his erection. He groaned at the contact, and I moved my hand up and down his cock a few more times before directing him between my legs. Jisung slid inside with a messy exhale, and his arms trembled as they supported his body looming over mine with his delicate frame.

It was a pleasant contradiction because Chan’s thrusts had been nothing short of confident while Jisung’s inexperience showed in the frantic way his hips stuttered against mine. He tried to move faster, losing his previous rhythm, and his cock fell all the way out, erection sliding between my thighs instead. He whined pathetically, rutting against my legs for several moments before he re-adjusted himself deep inside. “Y/N,” he moaned.

“It’s okay,” I told him, petting my fingers along the crown of his head. “You’re doing so good.”

“I like you so much,” Jisung replied earnestly and my heart ached at his words.

He looked unbelievably sinful, eclipsing my body against his as I felt the fabric of the couch against my skin. The friction was delicious, and I focused on the way his cock felt, thrusts growing more and more assured as he finally found a way to please us both, thumb brushing across my clitoris. He was still kissing me, tongue moving across mine deliberately, and I was breathing harshly as I fought to control the rising heat building in my abdomen. It was an intense build-up to an orgasm that I could’ve never anticipated since Jisung was always Felix’s friend who I usually avoided. The same Jisung whose endless flirtations usually annoyed me, but something had changed the moment I looked into his eyes and saw the lust and desire coming together to create an intoxicating mixture.

It was suddenly impossible to ignore the way he made me feel and I felt him come deep inside with a stuttered moan. His hips moved harshly against mine, and I chased my release with a sensual grind of my hips until I was throwing my head back with a cry, groaning when his lips found the sensitive skin of my neck. “Jisung,” I murmured, watching him through a haze of darkness as he rolled over next to me with a moan.

I studied the way Jisung’s hair fanned out across the cushions, making him look angelic beneath the influence of the moon’s light breaking the barrier of the curtains. It made me feel guilty, realizing that I had finally returned Jisung’s feelings only after my tumultuous affairs with Changbin and Chan. In fact, I was nothing more than the very girls I often mocked when they threw themselves at the most popular boys in school. I swallowed hard at the realization. “What have I done?”

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #skz #skz fanfic #seo changbin fanfic #bang chan fanfic #han jisung fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz smut #changbin smut #han jisung smut #bang chan smut

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unholyhelbig · 3 years

Text

We Sold Our Souls | 001: Beca

Summary: A small-town rock band continues to play even smaller venues well past high school graduation. Aubrey, Beca, Emily, and Chloe struggle with newfound fame and the long bloody road to get there.

[Based off of "We Sold Our Souls" By Grady Hendrix"]

Read on AO3 | Dt to the amazing @ifionlyhadmorepaper

Beca’s fingers were split and callused where Chloe’s were warm and protected. They were covered in bandages of all shapes and sizes, little adhesive papers that browned at the edges from dirt or from blood that hadn’t been dabbed away. They were wrapped, lacerated where she had pressed too hard on the velvet cords of her guitar. Beca Mitchell would play until rustic oozing syrup covered the face of the instrument.

They stung, sometimes, but right now she leaned into the numbness that the temperature in the office provided. She wanted to spread them in an equal motion over the glass of the desk so each finger lined up with a toe in her Doc Martins. Instead, she placed them calmly in her lap and stared at the silver pen that rested next to the contract.

She picked silently at the ace bandage that she had strategically wrapped around her pinky finger. It had been the newest slice; a wound still fresh to the sterile room. She was sure it would drip one, maybe two drops of red on the white linoleum.

Beca glanced up from the writing utensil and saw nothing but a suit, a slate and dull grey that blended perfectly with the rest of the room. There were no photos on the wall, nothing but a bland black leather sofa and a glass coffee table that matched the same desk they sat at now. She wanted to look through the floor to ceiling windows but saw nothing but white. Everything was white.

She was the darkest thing in the room.

Her boot tapped against, a low and thumbed rhythm. She waited for him to say something, to say anything. But she realized quickly that he may be darker than her. She could stare into the abyss that was his face, into the shadow but it would mean nothing. There were no defining features other than a crisp, business-like smile.

She had switched from pulling at the dressing of her wounds to picking at the frayed edges of her black jean jacket, littered with patches and permanent marker. Beca traced a signature that Chloe had drawn on one drunken night.

They had popped a bottle of champagne and the bubbles made the cuts on her fingers burn something fierce. But she let the golden liquid slosh onto the carpet of the hotel room, and bubble up in her throat until she couldn’t quite hold it between her lips anymore. Chloe kissed her and she tasted like weed and cherry.

It was the first night that their song was played on the radio.

The four of them huddled around a radio, its antenna stretched to the ceiling of that dingy room. The lights buzzed as much as the static, and it was close to three am; too late for the bar handlers to be heading home, and too early for the suits to be warming up their cars. But they played it- they played it.

They could quite possibly be the only four people in the entire world to hear the first song from the DEMO that Beca slid under the studio door.

When she leaned forward, the leather her pants made an ungodly noise. She didn’t’ want to read through the stack bound with a thick black clip. The first page was highlighted where she needed to initial and bolded at the most important parts; the parts that distracted her from what really mattered.

Her father was a stockbroker before he was dead, and he would tell her every single time he brought home a new contract, that they make the glittery things darker. That’s not what she was supposed to read; she was supposed to look at the little pieces of text that had stars next to them. People liked to trick you with shiny things.

Beca moved her finger across the large stack; the paper was cool to the touch and caught on the adhesive of her ace bandage. “What exactly are you offering me here?”

Summer 1985

It took her four whole months to save up for the old white Charvel that sat at the back of Shawl's pawn shop. There were bars strapped across the windows and an ugly neon orange sign that let Beca know when they were closed and when they weren’t. She would cling to those bars when old man Shawl would tell her to buy something or get the fuck out.

He stared at her even harder when she emptied the shoebox of change and crumpled up bills stained with sweat and sticky substances onto the glass counter, but even he couldn’t turn down a profit. She waited for ages while his liver-spotted hands counted the money carefully. Then he pursed his lips and pulled the beat up guitar down from his perch above his shoulder.

In later years, Beca knew she didn’t have nearly enough, and she thanked him silently for taking pity on her and passing it over anyway. She was driving all of his customers, she reasoned, by sulking on the hot sidewalk in front of the shop, letting banana flavored popsicles drip onto her fingers until it was nothing but a stick left.

She had fastened the worn leather strap around her chest and straddled her jet red bicycle. Beca had never peddled so fast in her life. The Mid-August heat clung to every inch of her was humming with sweat by the time she skidded to a stop in front of her house. She let the bike drop and got an instant hit of relief when she crossed the threshold into the open garage.

Beca scooted past the dusty Monza that barely fit in front of the door leading into their kitchen. Her mother had bought it off a stranger that came into the diner back in 78’. There were questionable stains in the backseat and an odd scent of Clorox that they could never get rid of. But it ran back and forth, and that’s all they needed.

She pulled open the honey blossom fridge and grabbed the closest thing they had to a cool drink. Beca drank tang straight from the pitcher, letting it drip down her face and soak into the collar of her shirt. She was noisy when she drank, and oblivious to her mother watching her from the archway as she tied her apron around her waist.

“We have glasses, Bec’s”

Her mother didn’t’ comment on the guitar strapped to her back. She figured that her daughter had picked up another hobby. Last year it was basketball, and the year before that she begged and begged for a set of baseball cards from the local hobby shop. After they were shoved under her bed she was told to fund her ventures on her own.

Beca swallowed the last of the orange flavoring on her tongue and took a savoring breath to fill her burning lungs. She turned to the woman and smiled “That would just dirty two things instead of one. Besides, you don’t drink this anyway.”

She couldn’t argue with that. Her mother wrestled silently with the faux pearl earrings that matched the beaded necklace against her collarbone. The soft blue tone of her uniform washed out her skin and made her look pale despite the summer heat that lingered well into August.

Beca placed the glass decanter back into the bottom half of the fridge before she mock saluted her mother and wandered back out to the garage. Her skin instantly became slick with sweat. She pulled an empty milk crate a few inches from the line of the setting sun.

She finally pulled the old Charvel from her back and situated it in her arms. It was far from a perfect fit. She reached over the neck and felt the way the side dug into her ribs uncomfortably. The strings were frail and sounded rough as she dragged her thumb against them.

Beca had only learned the start of one song, the first few cords of Black Sabbath’s Tomorrows Dream. They had printed the cords on the back of the record sleeve, each specific note highlighted in a comically large dot. Beca would breathe in the dust of the garage and listen to the record on a constant loop, pressing her fingers down against the notes.

She took a deep breath and started to follow the instructions that she had completed a million times over. The strings were too tight and it sounded choppy, sharp, and thick all at once. She cringed at her half-hearted attempt and the way the cords cut so deeply into her fingertips they stung.

She ignored the old car pulling out of the garage, and the way she had to squint at the darkness after a while. There was still the sour taste of orange on her tongue and sweat dripped from her nose. But she played and played, and played until there was blood against the white face of the instrument and tears pinching at her eyes. It sounded somewhat like Black Sabbath.

“You like metal?”

Beca jerked her hand back quickly and drew in a sticky warm breath of air. She had been so wrapped up in her task that she hadn’t realized she wasn’t alone anymore. A girl stood in the dull light that leaked from the garage and into the pavement. She didn’t’ quite pass the threshold- instead, she lingered.

A certain chill had invaded the air and the girl folded into herself. Her wild mane of orange hair fell around her shoulders and ghostly blue eyes lit up optimistically at the sight of a guitar.

“Uh,”

“That’s a Charvel, right? I begged my parents for one last Christmas but they got me an acoustic instead. Hooked me up with lessons from Miss Jensen. I learned one country song and started pocketing the fifty bucks a week instead.”

“Yeah,” Beca swallowed hard “It’s a Charvel”

“That’s cool,” she rocked back and forth on the souls of her sneakers. The cold didn’t’ seem to get to her much anymore. Beca tried to place her. Her ears were ringing and her fingers hurt. The crickets were hissing their own song. “You go to Kennedy don’t you?”

“I’m second year”

“I’m third.” She beamed “I live right next door, I’ve seen you around.”

Beca lifted her chin; she had seen the girl around too. It usually followed loud screaming and slamming doors. She would sit on her stoop and stare at the way her cassette player would turn. Beca had seen her flip a tape four times once- still like a statue until the music stopped and hat to be reset.

“Listen, I uh- don’t want to intrude, but maybe we could play together sometime?”

“Yeah, I would like that.” She found herself saying, the orange drink in her system making her stomach churn. She nearly felt bad, felt a pang of sadness for the girl. “I’m Beca.”

“Hi, Beca. I’m Chloe.”

Winter 1994

Beca let the case fall shut a little too loudly. The acoustics on the small stage seemed to catch all the wrong things. She couldn’t get her voice to carry earlier in the night, but the fur-lined box that they housed their amp in bounced all the way to the entry of the little venue in Portland.

She blinked hard, trying to ignore the harsh red lights that covered every single inch of the place. There were bumper stickers covering the spotty paint of the walls and a bar that was more piss and peanut shells than anything. Emily gulped down warm beer and struggled to keep it down momentarily. She didn’t look up at the noise, her stare trained on a coaster, and the crumbs that lie next to it.

Beca leaned back on her heels and pulled in a thick breath. She smelled like sweat and blood and alcohol. Her little stunt had drawn the attention of Aubrey, the woman wrapping the cord to a different amp around her forearm and palm. She narrowed her unripe stare.

“This was fucking shit,”

“I’m doing my best”

They spoke at the same time. She knew that Aubrey’s anger was buzzing, it was festering until it finally burst. She looked pale under the red lights, the same tattoo they had all gotten two years ago stretched under her tank top and down to the gap between her jeans.

She knew what Aubrey was going to say. Her best wasn’t good enough, and it never was; they had been doing this for years, eight long years and they were still playing the shit-stink venues in even shittier towns. They barely had an audience tonight, and it had all been Beca’s fault. The whole room was thinking it, but no one had the balls to say it other than Aubrey.

Chloe moved from the corner of the room, “We’ll get a better place, Bree.”

“Yeah? When? I’m tired of giving my all to an audience that doesn’t’ fucking exist. We’re not kids anymore.”

“We’re shit broke.” Emily turned in the creaky barstool, swallowing the foam at the bottom of her glass. “I don’t even think we have gas in the van.”

“How much from this gig?” Chloe asked.

Her hair was matted with sweat and her thumb pulled at the chain around her neck. It was fastened with a marbled red pick, one from their first real venue ever. She had nervously wiped away the gold lettering and now the smooth plastic was all that was left. Beca hated disappointing her, and she did it often these days.

“Five hundred.”

“Five hundred? Beca that’s barely enough to cover the hotel rooms.” Aubrey let the wrapped cord fall back to the stage “We don’t break even on this. It’s not fucking worth it. It never was and it never is.”

They all knew what came next. Emily stared down a coaster she had begun to shred. The remaining foam on the glass culminated at the very bottom of the glass and she knew she couldn’t muster enough change to order another one. So she sat with the sour taste in her mouth and festered.

Aubrey would mention Julliard.

“I could have had everything.” She hissed instead.

Beca didn’t dignify it with a response. Instead, she leaned down and pulled the amp up with nothing more than a grunt. Instead, she walked out into the cold Portland air and let it make her skin tighter. She blinked away the red light and searched for the keys in her pockets. She had left them inside.

#Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale #Bechloe #Emily Junk #Aubrey Posen #Junksen #band au #rocker au

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