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#she sleeps in the living room cause she has nighttime anxiety
missywritesfor7 · 8 days
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❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹
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Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.
Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC
Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS
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Ch. 16: Break
After a 5 hour drive, the manager escorting Yoongi to his temporary indefinite home pulls into the driveway of a cozy looking log cabin. The property is surrounded by nothing but trees and nature giving a very private and secluded feel. There’s an additional cabin on the property that’s slightly smaller and only has one bedroom as opposed to the 3 in the main cabin. Both have a kitchen and bathroom, living area, and plenty of windows that allow for natural lighting to come from all sides.
The manager shows Yoongi around and tells him of everything he’s able to do while he’s here. The main cabin has one of the rooms turned into an office space that Yoongi can use however he pleases. There’s a waist high bookshelf filled with a variety of books, a desk, a beanbag chair, and plenty more open space. The manager tells him he’s free to setup any instruments or recording equipment in there.
The master bedroom has a king sized bed and a large bathroom attached with a rainfall shower, separate jetted tub, and dual sinks. There’s also a closet attached that reminds Yoongi he left with only the clothes on his back. Since the original plan was to take Yoongi to the cabin immediately after their meeting anyway, the manager revealed that they already prepared a few things he would need. Basic clothes, hygiene products, plenty of food, and of course medicine.
For now they have something to help Yoongi sleep if he happens to feel symptoms of withdrawal. In the morning a doctor will come by to fully assess him. The doctor will be staying in the second cabin for at least a week to make sure Yoongi gets through detox without issues. A therapist will also visit regularly for counseling sessions.
Before leaving Yoongi to himself, the manager lets him know again that he can contact any of them if he needs anything at all. He’s not allowed visitors, but his means of communication won’t be taken away and he’ll still be able to have internet. As much as they wanted to try taking anything from him that would give him too much freedom to the outside world of temptations and triggers, they also didn’t want to make him feel like a complete criminal. However, that privilege will be revoked if he abuses that freedom. He’s not able to leave, though if he chooses to end treatment before being cleared then the terms that were laid out for him in the meeting earlier will go into effect.
The manager leaves and Yoongi is left in this lovely home on this gorgeous property alone. He trudges around outside a bit taking in the scenery. It’s nighttime now so the moon and stars are clearly visible and shining bright. He isn’t sure what to do with himself now. He’d eat, but he doesn’t have much of an appetite. It’s been a long exhausting day so he decides to just wash up and go to bed.
First he sends a text to Hyeri. He wasn’t going to at first because he knows she probably doesn’t want to speak to him right now. He knows she worries though and he doesn’t want to give her any more reasons to worry, so he simply tells her he made it to the property and that he loves her.
After a long shower with many more tears, Yoongi gets in bed and simply stares at his phone. Hyeri hasn’t responded. He knows she’s upset with him, but not hearing anything from her is like a knife in the chest. He sighs and closes his eyes but sleep doesn’t come. Not for a while.
Hyeri had been going through a range of emotions since Yoongi left. As happy as she is that he went to get treatment, she’s also very sad, disappointed, and angry. She knew he would fall for her trap, but for him to do it right before he’s supposed to go to treatment just lets her know how bad it really is for him. It breaks her heart and she hasn’t stopped crying since he left.
There’s a loneliness in the home that’s much different from any other time Yoongi has been gone. It’s a loneliness that’s so loud. So she cries until she falls asleep still fully clothed and clutching Yoongi’s pillow.
The next morning Hyeri wakes up with a throbbing headache. As many times as she’s cried herself to sleep, she’s used to it by now. Before getting out of bed she checks her phone and sees the message from Yoongi from the night before. She hates that she missed it, though she isn’t sure she wants to respond at all. She’s glad he made it though. It makes her feel just a slight bit lighter. He’s getting help, it’s the start of a new beginning.
She goes into the bathroom to wash up and get rid of any red and puffiness in her face. Thankfully she has a small bit of time before she has to leave for a commercial shoot. She gets dressed, makes a quick breakfast, then stares at the kitchen wall in a trance.
She’s trying her best to focus on her upcoming shoot but all she can think of is Yoongi. She wonders if he’s awake yet. If he ate breakfast and what was it. She wants to know how he slept and if the place he’s staying is nice. Of course she could simply respond to his text but once she’s finally about to, she gets a call from her agency JJS.
Having been finished with shooting on her mini series, she had asked about any upcoming projects that she would be a fit for. Initially JJS tried to convince her to take some time off. She declined, feeling she’s already missed out on a lot this year, partially because of the situation they put her in in the first place with the fake relationship with Kihyun. Since then nothing has been about her career and she’d like for it to get back to that.
Despite their reluctance, JJS said they would let her know of any openings. So far she’s gotten two commercials and a radio ad. It’s not what she asked them for, but she took it in stride thinking nothing was available. Then she found out there are other roles available. Many of them, JJS just didn’t want to offer them to her. Yesterday she sent the agency a message with a few roles she found on her own that she’s interested in. She was met with pushback and even a mild scolding for “going behind their back” to find the roles herself. Once again she felt like she’s being treated like a child and it’s only because she refused to continue going along with their fake relationship any longer.
Now they’re calling her to tell her they found a role for her. Actually, they found two and tried to sound really enthusiastic about it. The first role is for a supporting role in a new series. The “supporting” role is just a glorified extra. One thats in one episode and gets 10 more seconds of camera time than others, and if lucky, they’ll get to ad-lib a word or two.
The second role is another supporting role, but it’s more laughable than the first role they presented. It’s a small part for a smaller production with an even smaller budget that would practically amount to her doing it for free.
Neither role are close to what Hyeri wanted and definitely not what JJS said they would find for her. Small roles aren’t a problem for her, she knows she’s not a world star actress, but it’s not what JJS agreed to find her. On top of that, it’s not like other roles aren’t out there. She’s seen for herself what was out there and can’t believe JJS would have the nerve to lie to her face about it then make her seem like the bad guy.
“Due to your previous actions it’s been a little more difficult to market you at this time,” the agency rep tells her over the phone.
“My previous actions?” Hyeri asks trying to not raise her voice.
“We wanted you to take time off so things would die down.”
“It’s been months!”
“We had a procedure laid out and you chose to do your own thing. There are consequences to actions, Hyeri.”
“I chose to tell the truth! Are you serious right now? You guys are giving me the smallest things you can find on purpose because you’re mad that I told the truth!”
“We can’t keep having this discussion about your conduct, Na Hyeri. People see you as a risk right now.”
“A risk?!”
“I understand you have a commercial shoot so I’ll let you get to it. Think about it and let me know if you would like to move forward with either of these projects.”
[Call ended]
“You fucking bitch!” Hyeri roars.
She gathers her things and storms out to her car in a fit of rage. She’s pissed, and even more pissed that she now has to try calming herself down so she doesn’t look angry in her commercial. Her patience with JJS is wearing very thin.
Yoongi’s day started with him waking up and staring at the ceiling for about an hour. At first he had forgotten where he was. Then upon remembering, he looked at his phone to see he still hadn’t heard anything from Hyeri. He laid there stuck in his head until he began hearing someone in the house.
The manager told him that the entire management team, doctors, and therapist will have access to the house at any time. It’s primarily for safety reasons, but also to make sure Yoongi isn’t able to lock himself up and hide if he were to get into anything he shouldn’t. Not that he planned to anyway with the amount of restrictions he’s under.
He rolls himself out of bed to wash himself up a bit. He takes one look at himself in the mirror and he hates what he sees. He doesn’t even want whoever is in the house to see him in this state in broad daylight, but it’s clear he doesn’t have much of a choice. Whoever it is seems to be making a bit of a ruckus. Yoongi sighs and steps out to see who it is.
A different manager from the one who brought Yoongi here is in the kitchen while another man is standing by chatting with him. Manager Park Seungji has been tasked with staying near the property to take care of anything Yoongi needs. With the place being 5 hours from Seoul, someone had to stay close by to provide a quick response.
Seungji introduces the other man as Doctor Young who will care for all of Yoongi’s health needs. He will be staying in the smaller cabin to monitor Yoongi closely for any withdrawal complications. First he wants to do a full evaluation so he takes Yoongi back to the bedroom while Seungji prepares breakfast.
Dr. Young begins with simple questions. When and what his last drink was, how much he’d drink daily and what his drink of choice is. It’s a simple evaluation but it makes Yoongi feel embarrassed. He still hates that he even allowed what used to be a simple pastime turn into this.
After speaking with the doctor and getting plenty of information on what to expect and how to deal with withdrawal symptoms, Yoongi goes back out to the kitchen as Seungji completes breakfast. Hangover soup which Yoongi doesn’t have much of an appetite for, but he appreciates it. He’s not hungover, but he knows why Seungji might assume he is. Dr. Young takes a serving and heads back to the other cabin. Yoongi takes a serving and after assuring Seungji he’s fine at the moment, Seungji leaves.
Yoongi decides to have his soup at a small table outside overlooking the scenery. It’s beautiful and makes him think of Hyeri. She loves places like this and he just knows she would be in awe at the nature surrounding them and the overall seclusion of the place for the most privacy. He pulls out his phone and snaps a few pictures. She may not have responded to his message last night, but he hopes this could put her in a slightly better mood with a view from his new home.
It’s crazy how things change. When he was on tour ignoring her she continued sending messages daily giving him a diary of her days although he wasn’t responding to her. Now he finds himself doing the same. With a few pictures he details how he didn’t sleep well, what he discussed with the doctor, and how he’s not very hungry but still happy that Seungji made breakfast. Of course he included a photo of the soup as well. He sends the message then returns to slowly eating while soaking up the sun.
Not long after he finishes his meal he’s greeted by someone else who comes to join him at the table. The man introduces himself as Minho, Yoongi’s counselor during his treatment process. He tells Yoongi a little about himself and how he plans to take Yoongi through his recovery.
Yoongi has spoken to counselors before so this isn’t something that bothers him. Minho seems like a nice person who also appears to take good care of himself physically as much as mentally based on the way his black shirt hugs his well toned body like a second skin. His voice is deep yet soothing to Yoongi, almost like asmr. It makes Yoongi feel comfortable talking with him which is important in this situation.
Yet Yoongi can’t seem to understand why he’s starting to feel uneasy. He’s trying to not panic, but his heart is racing and he’s starting to sweat and he has no idea what’s happening. Every word Minho says sends another wave of anxiety through his body.
This plan. This entire treatment plan is overwhelming. For whatever reason, it’s in this moment Yoongi feels completely afraid of this entire process. He had already been told what treatment would entail. He was fine when the manager laid out all of the rules last night. He was even fine just earlier as Dr. Young explained the many issues and side effects that come with alcohol withdrawal. But hearing how he’ll have to work through the root of why he drinks makes him want to run and hide.
Drinking was to get away from the feelings stuck inside him. When he’d drink excessively those feelings never seemed quite as unbearable. He drank when those feelings were too strong for him to ignore but too tough for him to want to face. Now he has to face them and he’s not sure he’s ready to.
It’s easy for him to say it all started with Hyeri, but this is something that goes even beyond that. A collection of hidden and ignored emotions that he felt weren’t big enough to deal with at the time are now going to be released and dissected.
Yoongi looks at Minho unable to speak. Minho can see the discomfort on Yoongi’s face and is afraid he may faint from how pale he looks.
“Are you ok?” Minho asks. Yoongi just stares at him blankly. “Yoongi?”
Hyeri made it through her commercial shoot without much issue. Considering the mental state she’s in, having to do 3 retakes isn’t so bad. She isn’t fully satisfied, but she’s still too angry from her phone call earlier to care. She just can’t believe the way JJS is treating her. She rushed through the shoot as best she could while seething in frustration the entire time.
When she got to her car she took a look at her phone and saw the photos Yoongi sent. She wasn’t expecting to hear from him, especially since she hadn’t responded to his message from the night before. However his message made her briefly forget what she was upset about.
She’s happy to see the place looks very relaxing for him. She almost wants to stay there herself. She’s happy he saw the doctor, and even happier that he had breakfast. It’s the first real bit of happiness she’s felt all day. This time she responds to him. Not right away though.
When she started to text him back she also wanted to tell him about her day. She always does. However, she knows he’s at the very beginning of his recovery and causing him any worry or stress could make things much harder for him than they already are. Telling him about her company that he already hates and wants her to leave treating her unfairly would cause him worry and stress. She knows he’d be mad at JJS and worried about her. She doesn’t want him to feel like he needs to come save her or take care of her. She only wants him to focus on recovery.
She thought about it all through her drive home and once she got there she finally texted him back. She told him the place looks beautiful, she’s proud of him, and that she loves him. She tells him her commercial shoot went well and let him know her schedule for tomorrow and left it at that. Nothing about JJS, or how she’s afraid her career may be over because of them, or how she cried most of the way home. She kept it simple.
Yoongi feels like he lost consciousness, but he didn’t. Minho noticed what was happening and was able to ease Yoongi’s mind a bit. He explained to Yoongi that while it’s understandable for anyone to feel a little overwhelmed when starting a new treatment process, he’s also experiencing symptoms of withdrawal. Yoongi had already been told by the doctor what the symptoms were but he didn’t feel like he was experiencing any of them. He thought maybe he was just overwhelmed with everything Minho was saying, but perhaps not.
Minho takes his time to tell Yoongi the mental effects of withdrawal. The things he won’t feel physically, but they’ll wear him down mentally. Yoongi understands, but he still wonders. He had stopped drinking before and he didn’t deal with any side effects. To him he was perfectly fine that entire time.
Minho stayed with him for about an hour and a half to make sure he was ok. He helped Yoongi feel a bit better and was able to get him inside to the couch. After Minho left, Yoongi stayed in the same spot wondering what he’s truly gotten himself into.
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canary0 · 9 months
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July 26th - Dracula 2023
Mina Murray’s Journal
I am both relieved and worried today, between Jonathan and Lucy.
Our dear Mr. Hawkins passed a letter on to us today, with a letter from him expressing his skepticism of it; you don’t become a lawyer without being able to connect dots, I suppose. The letter was, in fact from Jonathan, about how he was just started for home. The letters I had read about in his handwritten journal. I was surprised, then, that he actually laughed a little seeing it, although it was rather humorless. But then he wrapped his arms around me, kissed my cheek, and said, “Oh look, I’ve arrived. That was a quick trip.” I confess here that I couldn’t help blushing and smiling like a school girl at that. I’m glad he hasn’t lost his warmth, despite everything.
Lucy, meanwhile, seems to have returned to her old habit of sleepwalking. Her mother is terribly anxious about it. She’s gotten the idea into her head – or perhaps anxiety is pushing it there – that sleepwalkers persistently walk out on roofs and cliffs, only to be abruptly woken and fall to a tragic death. Apparently it runs in the family, as Lucy’s father had the same habit. He apparently would go as far as dressing himself before going out. With all that in mind, I have made a habit of making sure the door to her room is locked before I go to sleep at night. Lucy usually goes to bed early, morning person that she is. I know Jonathan has developed a penchant for nighttime wandering with his insomnia, so he’s going to be keeping an eye out in case she gets out of the house, as well.
Outside of that, Lucy has had her hands just full of wedding planning. We went shopping for dresses a couple of days ago. I thought we would start our life fairly simply as we worked on saving and moving up, but Mr. Hawkins really changed everything recently. Jonathan will become a partner upon his recovery. I have a solid job that pays well. We have a house already now. After the start of our lives, it’s strange to find ourselves in this position. Lucy, meanwhile, is marrying a man who turns out to specifically be the Hon. Arthur Holmwood, the only son of Lord Godalming. He had to leave for brief family business, but he’s a lovely person, and well suited to Lucy. He comes across as an internal sort of person, so I think he can probably help ground her a little… and see through her when she needs that. Honestly, I suspect the sleepwalking events will end once he returns. It’s likely that’s what’s causing her so much trouble.
(A/N: Arthur's getting a little more personality in this one. I admit, I'm borrowing from myself when I was younger, but I think it works. Lucy really needs someone who can see through the facade, and I think it would help her to have that. The people I've known who've felt they had to put up a front have always really been really happy when someone can read who they really are. Some people it makes them uncomfortable, so it's better to not push too much there.
Anyway, got to do something cutesy with JonMina! Yay! :D)
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zolusbian · 3 years
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another day, another fruitless 2am conversation in the living room with my mom where i try to convince her to like, be my mother again
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agirlwhoisaphantom · 3 years
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Moonlight - Adam Sackler x Reader
Chapter 1 - Kid
Word Count: 5595
Warnings: Mentions of cheating, wet dream,
Author's Note: I've been hiding this fic for quite some time and I just thought it was finally time to post it. I hope you enjoy it. Just a little FYI this is a bit of a slow burn things don't pick up until chapter 3/4 soo.
__________________________
You were in your psychology class trying to pay attention, but you couldn't. You were spacing out. Thinking about all the things that you could have been doing instead of sitting there in class. You could have been at home catching up with that show you just started or learning that new recipe you found.
You see this 6'4 guy with long perfect hair with broad shoulders walk into the room. He had features of a god. He was gorgeous. He couldn't be a new student; it was already mid-semester. The school you attended was fairly small. You could've noticed him by now.
He looks around the room before he makes eye contact with you and starts walking in your direction. As he starts to get near you, he doesn't break eye contact. To him, you were a prize he was trying to reach.
Once he is right in front of you, towering where you were sitting, he grabs your chin and tilts it so you could see his face more clearly. "You'll soon get what you deserve, princess," he says in a seductive voice. He grabs you by your hand and pulls you out of your seat.
Dragging you out of the classroom to take you to the nearest closet.
As he opens the door, your anxiety rises, thinking about what might happen next. "Hey, aren't we going to get caught" you mentioned to him in a worried tone of voice.
He wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you in closer to him. "Do as you are told, and we won't get caught." He whispers into your ear.
The space between you and him got smaller. Things were getting steamy-
BEEP
BEEP
BEEP
"Noooo, a couple more minutes, please." you yawned to yourself. It was a dream that you did not want to wake up from. You wondered who that person was and if you have met them somewhere.
As you reached over to grab your phone where your alarm was still going off, you checked the time, wanting to know if you could sleep for a couple more minutes to go back to dreaming about that person.
It was 7:30 AM, and your class started at 8:30 AM; usually, at this time, you were in the train station, but instead, you were dreaming about a man you have never seen before and wanting to get railed by him.
You rushed on getting ready, so you could catch a train before your class started.
---------------------------
New York City is one of the busiest cities globally, also a city that you have always wanted to live in since you were a kid.
When you and your best friend Amelia got accepted into NYU, you decided to live in the same apartment. Both of you wanted to experience everything together.
You have lived there for six years, and no matter what, there is always something new to discover, it could be a new fashion store that opened or a new McDonald's, cause there is a need for a McDonald's in every corner.
This is your last year of Graduate School at NYU. You were so tired of this, and you just wanted to graduate already.
After all your classes are over, you and Amelia would always meet at Café Grumpy to occasionally catch up and leave the house. You enjoyed the coffee and food from there.
Every time you went inside there, it smelled like fresh coffee, and Ray was always there as well. "Hello, welcome back to Café Grumpy, the usual, right?" He asked with a smirk on his face.
"Good afternoon, Ray, and yes, the usual." you snapped your fingers as you agreed to what he said.
You have known Ray for the past couple of years; you never knew him personally. But you two did exchange a couple of interactions. He would always be the one to prepare your coffee and Amelia's. You probably had more mental breakdowns in that shop, something that you were not proud of. Since Ray was much older than you, he would be there for you and give you the best advice he could.
You were spacing out. You hear Ray's voice. "Are you feeling better? I know it's been a rough couple of weeks since that break up with Oscar," he hands you your cup of coffee and Amelia's. Oscar was the guy you have dated for the past 2 ½ years but recently broke up with him because he was cheating on you.
A frown formed on your face. You didn't like remembering Oscar and what he did to you. "I'm doing fine; he didn't deserve me anyway. I was too good for him." There was a small sigh when you said that.
Amelia was walking towards where you were sitting at "That is correct. He never deserved a lovely, funny, realistic girlfriend like you. Even from the start, he didn't deserve you." she sounded straightforward and positive in what she said.
She always knew what to say to make your day. "Amelia, always telling me something I don't know" there was a sass on your tone. Your relationship with Oscar was toxic to the point where you forgot your self-worth and only focused on pleasing him. But after catching him cheating on you, it made you realize how strong of a person you were and how you didn't need him in your life.
"She's right, you know; any guy would be lucky to have you" Ray was smiling as he was handing you a breakfast sandwich. "just to let you know this is on me, I'll pay for you and Amelia's food and drinks. But don't get used to it because I won't be doing it all the time."
You weren't sure how to respond to what Ray has said, so you just decided to give a detailed response "hah, keep saying that, and I'll stay single for a while," you chuckled as he told you that. "Also, thanks, we'll repay you." you were grateful that Ray did that for you and Amelia once in a while.
What you told Ray made you think, were you going to be single for a while, or are you going to find someone right away. But then again, you wanted to love yourself before you loved someone else.
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After hours of just talking to Amelia and Ray, it was time for you to head home. It was getting dark, and you had homework to do.
Afternoons were your favorite time to walk around because of the sunsets. No matter how long you have lived in New York, you would have always taken pictures. By now, your gallery was full of those sunsets instead of images with your friends or family.
You lived in Manhattan, probably the cheapest place in New York you could find. The apartment wasn't that big; it had two bedrooms, one bath, a small kitchen and living space, and a balcony that connected your bedroom to Amelia's. It was big enough for two people to live in. It was decorated very minimalistic; of course, some of the landscape pictures you took and some portraits that Amelia has painted throughout the apartment.
Looking through the cabinets and through the fridge, you noticed you had all the ingredients to make chicken alfredo with mashed potatoes" Hey, are you craving chicken alfredo with some mashed potatoes?" You were taking out the ingredients to make the food. You were the one to cook all the time since you enjoyed cooking and did not mind cleaning the mess afterward. "Even if you're not, I'm still making it because I am craving it."
Amelia was browsing through Netflix, trying to figure out what to put "whatever you want to make, you know I'll shove it down my throat."
Your phone that was across the table started to ring. As you picked it up, you saw the name Oscar. Your heart started to beat fast. You had a blank stare as you watched your phone just ring.
Amelia notices your blank face, "Is it Oscar again? Gosh, when is he going to leave you alone" she rolls her eyes. She starts walking towards you to see if you need any comfort or if you wanted her to answer.
"Yeah, it's him. Can you answer the phone for me? I'm not sure if I can talk to him" you gave her your phone.
This was not the first time he called after the breakup. Usually, you would just ignore the calls. This time it was different because of the talk you had earlier with Amelia and Ray. The thought of you giving someone everything just for them to go behind your back to do that was a scary thought.
While your mind wondered with all these thoughts, you could hear Amelia just yelling at the phone. Telling Oscar to leave me alone and just to let the relationship we once had go.
Hearing him argue with Amelia in the other room made you want to curl up in bed. But instead, you just sucked it up and started making the food because the food will never hurt your feelings or cheat on you.
Amelia walks into the kitchen and places the phone on the counter. "He is such a jerk. I still don't understand how you decided to date him. Out of all the people in New York, you decided to spend two and ½ years with him." She was rambling on how much she disliked Oscar. You zoned out, not wanting to pay attention to what she was saying.
"I don't understand either, but hey, can we just talk about something else; I need a distraction."
While you were finishing the food, Amelia was still browsing through Netflix, trying to find something the both of you could watch.
Amelia gives you a look of regret as you approach her with the food. "I'm sorry that I exploded on you about Oscar. What he did was unacceptable. I hate seeing you hurt over a stupid guy," she mentions as you give her a plate of food.
There was a small pause in between as you sat next to her. "It's okay, Amelia. I'm hurting over a dumb boy."
Once you finished your homework and the movie that Amelia put on the TV, it was already nighttime. Your mind wanders back to the dream you had. Who was this guy, and have you seen him before.
Amelia had her bed, but sometimes she would come over to your bed and sleep with you. Especially during times like this, where you needed her company. Amelia was scrolling through Instagram, trying to find new inspiration for her latest painting. "Hey, Amelia, do you know if we know anyone that is around 6'4 that had perfect shaggy hair?" you asked her, trying not to make it obvious that it was a dream.
She got up and sat up quickly as you caught her attention "oh, so now we have a new lover, and it's not been two months past your breakup" she was looking at the way you would react to her saying that. But your face was not showing any signs that you might have met someone new or even talked to someone new. You looked confused, and all you wanted answers. "Hey, don't look at me like that. We both have a busy life outside of these four walls, you don't expect me to know every single move that you do, and no, we do not know anyone that fits that description."
"Oh, okay, just asking" you wanted to drop the topic as fast as you could. "We should go to sleep. I have work tomorrow, and you do too"
You turn off the lights and proceed to go to bed.
---------------------------------
"Such a naughty girl, listening to what daddy wants to do, does it turn you on being here in the closet with me at the university you attend at huh."
It seemed like it picked up right where it left off. Oddly enough, it was the same guy you dreamt of last night.
You stood there quietly as you tried to analyze his beautiful face.
He proceeds to tell you all the things he wants to do to you. "I want you to get on all fours and not make a sound," he whispers into your ears; as he does that, he wraps his big hand around your throat.
You nodded your head in agreement "yes. I'll stay as quiet as I need to-"
BEEP
BEEP
BEEP
"Ugh, not again." This time, you woke up on time. When getting ready, you decided to wear something that hugged your curves perfectly—a turtleneck shirt with a cardigan and a nice pair of jeans with some heels.
On the days you didn't have class, you worked as a secretary at a lawyer's office, it was not your dream job, but it did pay you well. Your boss was chill about you going to work a couple of minutes late. She knew how busy the streets could get, and if you were able to pass by a coffee shop and get her coffee, she would forgive you for your delay.
As you were walking the same route, you wanted to catch up on some of your reading. The people around you were too focused on making sure they got to their destination on time instead of focusing on whether you were on their way.
Out of sudden, you bump into with 6'4 man, "Hey, watch it Ki-" he froze. To him, you were the most beautiful person he has ever seen.
You panic. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you," you were trying to gather yourself. As you made eye contact with him, you noticed that he had the same features as the guy you have been dreaming about. But seeing him in person, he was more attractive.
We stared at each other for a couple of minutes.
"umm yeah, it's alright kid, are you new around here? I have never seen you before" He looks at you like there's nothing else around but you. He looks up and down, looking at how perfectly your outfit hugged your curves. "Can I just mention that you are gorgeous and hot, wow"
You smiled and tucked in your hair behind your ear "thank you" This was the first time you have ever gotten a compliment in a very long time; you were unsure how to react. "Yeah, I have been here for a couple of years. I mean, it's a pretty big city. I doubt that you would have ever seen me" You never thought you would imagine that the guy you were dreaming about would live in the same city you did.
There was a small pause in between what you had said, "Is there a place that you need to be? I can walk you there. I want you to get there safely" He insisted on taking you to work. He didn't show any signs of being a creep, so of course, you agreed that he could walk with you.
The whole time you walked together, it was quiet, but having his presence next to you, was calming. It was odd. You have never felt this calm next to a stranger.
As you both get to the building that you worked at, "Hey, I know that we haven't known each other for long, and this walk was quiet, but I would like to get to know you." You scanned his face to see if he was lying or just trying to be weird. But no, he was genuine. "I would love to take you out to get coffee sometime if that's okay with you" He looked unsure if he wanted to ask you that. Maybe it was the fear of rejection.
You had a small smile on your face. You wanted to know him as well. "So far, I've enjoyed our quiet walk, and It would be lovely to grab a cup of coffee sometime" You take out some sticky notes and a pen from your purse and start writing down your number with a little heart next to the last digit. "Here, take this, don't blow up my phone, or I'll block you, okay" You hand him the sticky note with a smirk on your face.
The moment you mentioned a number, that's when his face lit up with the most dorkish yet cute smile. "Aye, Aye, Captain, I can't make any promises that I won't."
Walking towards the building, you felt like someone was watching you. You turn around to see who it might be, and it was him. He wanted to make sure that you go into the building safely. Then you realized that you didn't even know his name and how you gave him your number in a heartbeat. That was the dumbest thing you have done. But what is the worst he can do? He didn't know your name either. He can probably just send it to spam callers.
Either way, you didn't regret giving him your number.
Deep down, you thought, 'he'll never text me or call me. He was just nice by walking me to work. I'll never get to see him again.' Before you enter your shift, you text Amelia every time you get there, so she knows you got there and nothing happened to you on the way. You didn't tell her that you met this guy and that you willingly gave him your number. To you, it didn't matter. It's not like you were going to see him again.
Hours go by. It was already the end of your shift. You said your goodbyes to your boss and coworkers.
As you check your phone, you notice that there were three new messages from an unknown number. You took a deep breath as you unlocked your phone, thinking it was probably spam messages or reminders that you needed to pay your bills.
2:12 PM Hello Kid, it's me, that rando that walked with you
2:30 PM, please tell me this is your actual number and not some random person's number
3:23 PM, it probably is, well, shit. But if it is yours, call me when you get out of work. I want to go ahead and buy you coffee.
Reading those messages brought a smile to your face. Even without knowing his name, it made you happy that he texted you.
Your heart is racing as you call him, thinking that he isn't going to pick up.
"Hey kid, so you didn't give me a random person's number, huh" You could hear the excitement in his voice through the phone.
"Hello there, actually no, this is a random person's number, you got fooled" there was a small giggle that came out.
He went along with what you said, knowing for sure it was you and not someone else. "darn it. Either way, is this random person willing to grab some coffee in about 10 minutes."
"She accepts, and she will be waiting for you to come. Don't be late. I don't like it when people are late and especially when it comes to my coffee."
"Aye, Aye Captain, I won't be late, not even a second late."
"I'm holding your word to that, hah."
When you hung up the phone, you had the biggest smile on your face. The thoughts of 'how come this nameless person was able to make me feel this way' were going through your head. It felt like you were a teenager with a high school crush. This was a new feeling to you. You never experienced having these emotions over some guy.
Eight Minutes pass by, and you see that 6'4 gorgeous man was walking outside of the building you work at, waving his hand trying to catch your attention. You grab your bags and start walking towards the door. Before you could push the door, he opens it for you. "Thank you" You lock eyes with him, and that feeling from earlier where nothing matters came back. The sound of cars honking and people walking by didn't matter because it was only you and him.
"You are very welcome. There's a new coffee place that opened up not that long ago that I want to take you". He points to the left, and of course, there was a big sign on the shop saying, 'NEW LOCATION' You agreed to go with him, and you didn't care where you two went. All you wanted to do was spend time with him.
Both of you were walking to the coffee shop, and it was relatively small and very casual. There was loud music playing in the background. He opened the door for you, and inside, it smelled like fresh coffee. The inside was beautiful. The tones were very earthy and brown colors. Even if you didn't come with him, you would have loved to be in this place. It felt like home. While you two were getting in line, you finally asked him the question that has been in your head all day. "Something that has been bugging me is that I'm here grabbing coffee with a person that I don't even know; you might be a murder or a cat person, and I wouldn't even know your name."
He makes a facepalm motion when he realizes that you were right. You didn't know his name, and he didn't know yours. "shit, you are right. I haven't even told you my name. It's Adam."
Adam, why was that so fitting for him. You never thought that this beautiful man would have the most straightforward name. You loved his name already. You tell him your name, and the way he reacted was the cutest. "So that's the captain's name. To be fair, that is a beautiful name." You had a smile, and your cheek turned into a rosy color. You never thought that he would react to your name like that, mainly because he could have met a lot of people with that same name.
To him, your name meant more than just a random person's name. He didn't care if other people had the same name as you. He only cared about knowing your name.
The line got shorter, and it was your time to order what you wanted to drink. You look over the menu, and the most appealing drink you could see was a Macchiato. That was your safe drink when it came to new coffee places.
As you look over the menu, Adam stares at you, the way your eyebrows are shaped, the way you look so concentrated on reading every word on the menu. As before bumping into you, you were still the most beautiful person he has ever seen. "Are you ready to order what you want?"
Looking over the menu one more time, just making sure that a Macchiato was something you wanted. "I think so. I'll probably just want a macchiato, something simple."
"Do you want anything to eat? It's probably been hours since you have last eaten," he says in a concerning voice.
Even though you were hungry and wanted to order something to eat, you didn't want him to waste more money on you. "No, that would be it. I can probably get something to eat on the way home. Thank you, though. I appreciate it."
While waiting for the drinks to be ready, you two go sit down. It was quiet for a while before they called Adam's name to go and get the drinks. Hearing his name just brightened your day. You thought, 'I don't think I would ever get tired of hearing his name.' As he walked in your direction, you can't help but notice how big his hands were.
"Here is the macchiato for the lady" While you grab your cup of coffee from his hands, you notice how small your hand looked compared to his. "now that we are here, tell me about yourself." He wanted to know everything about you, from what you like to eat to what you like to do in your free time.
"Well, I'm in my last year of graduate school in NYU, getting my Human Development and Social Intervention Master's degree, gosh that was a handful to say. I work at a law office." There was a pause as you were trying to think of things you did in your free time. "There's nothing that exciting about my life, really." All you did was go to work and school. It made you realize how it has been a cycle your whole time you were in here.
With the facial expression, you can tell that he wanted to say 'really,' but instead, he said something else. "That sounds like some bull. Getting a degree in Human development or some shit like that is quite interesting" he was interested in what you were saying. "Also, I doubt that is all you do. There must be something else, a hobby? A show you enjoy watching." He did not believe one bit that your life could be boring.
Talking about yourself was not something you did on a day-to-day basis. So when Adam started asking these questions, it was really hard for you to think about it. He was the first person to ask you to talk about yourself in a very long time. You were unsure what to tell him, as you were stirring your coffee with a spoon, trying to figure out what to say. He grabs your hand that was just resting on the table. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me. If you don't feel comfortable telling me it's cool, I understand" He was reassuring you that you didn't have to tell him anything you didn't want to.
He still holds your hand, making sure that you are comfortable around him. He didn't want to mess things up with you. He wanted to flirt with you and kiss you, but he also wanted to make sure you were comfortable.
The place started to get packed, and the walls felt like they were closing in on you. You began to feel claustrophobic with the number of people around. "Adam, can we leave the place and walk around?" You needed to get out of the place before more people came in.
He grabs your bag and helps you get up from the chair. You started to walk forwards, and even though you couldn't see him, you could feel his presence behind you. As you both left the shop, you turned around to make sure he was right behind. You wait for him as he catches up to you. You go ahead and wrap your arm around his. He had a slight smile when you did that. "I'm sorry for not answering your questions. Usually, no one asks me to talk about myself, so I'm unsure what to say."
He understood, and he was in the same boat as you. No one asked him to talk about himself either. If you were to ask him, he would freeze just like you did. "It's alright, kid, let's take you home. It's getting late" This was the second time he walked you to your location. He wanted you to get home safely and wanted to stay with you for a longer time.
This time it wasn't a quiet walk, you joked around with him, and he joked around with you. The way you both talked, it seemed like you knew each other for years and not only for a day.
You were the first girl he didn't want to take home and hook up with. You were different, he wanted something new, and he wanted to experience it with you.
You were outside the building of your apartment, and you see Amelia run towards you and Adam. "Where were you, it's past 6:30, and you are usually here earlier. I was about to set an Amber Alert on your ass" She hugs you ignoring the man next to you. As she lets go, she finally notices him and gives him a perplexed look. She pulls you away from Adam. She didn't know him. She thought he was some creep just trying to get to know where you lived. "You can go now. You don't need to walk her in." She had a disgusted look on her face while she made the shoo motion.
You were embarrassed that she was acting that way. Usually, she wouldn't mind if a guy walked me home. You gave Adam a look that you were sorry. "I'm so sorry. I never thought this would be the way you two meet. Amelia, this is Adam" You had a frustrated look on your face. You didn't want Amelia to know about Adam until you were sure that you wanted to talk to him for a while. 'I guess faith has another plan for me, instead of letting me do my own thing.' Instead of keeping that thought to yourself, you said it out loud without even knowing that you did.
Adam and Amelia both heard what you said and giggled.
Adam stares at you like he had the heart eyes emoji on his face. Amelia noticed how he was looking at you and decided to walk into the building, so you and he would have a moment together. You knew the moment you entered the apartment, she would be asking you a ton of questions. The idea of going home felt like a nightmare, but that's where your bed was at, so you didn't have a choice.
After what happened between the three of you, you were unsure if he ever wanted to talk to you again. If it was you, after that, you would have just run the opposite way. He could feel that you were worried. "If you think that Amelia scared me away from you, you thought completely wrong." He wraps his arms around you, and you hug him back. Feeling his warmth was one of the best feelings in the world. You were so much tinier than him, so hugging him felt like you were hugging a bear. After a couple of more minutes, letting him go was hard. Adam looks up and notices that Amelia is looking down to where you and he were standing. "It's getting late, and I can see that someone is creepily watching us." You look up, and you see the same thing that Adam did. You both giggled that Amelia wasn't trying to hide that she was staring at the both of you.
Watching him walk away made you sad. You wanted to spend more time with him.
Entering the apartment, Amelia rushed to open the door before you could. She had a ton of questions ready for you on a notepad. You took her hand and walked towards the couch. The questions went from “where did you meet him? How did you meet him?... etc.” You answered every question, even though you really didn’t want to. “So you met him, and you didn’t plan on telling me” she grabbed the pillow that was right next to her and smacked you with it. You went ahead and grabbed a pillow next to you and started to have a pillow fight.
Hours passed by, you finished your homework, your readings, and finished cooking dinner. As you are getting ready to go to bed. All you could think about was him, how sweet he was to you, how beautiful his face was, just the thought of Adam. Your phone starts to ring as these thoughts continue. You look over to your phone to see who it was, and it was Adam.
There was noise in the background. It sounded like there was construction going on. “Hey Kid, what are you doing up so late? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“Hey Goof, Fun fact I was about to go to bed, but you called, meaning that you interrupted me from going to bed.” You were tucking yourself to bed at this moment.
“I’ll just buy you coffee tomorrow.” He mentions in a sweet tone of voice.
“I hate that you have only known me for a day and already know that I love coffee” It was the opposite. You didn’t mind if he knew that you enjoyed drinking coffee. Instead of just remembering how your body was shaped, he would remember you by something you enjoyed drinking.
Adam was thinking about you before he decided to call you. He missed you. He missed the way your voice sounded. “I’m going, being honest with you, I was just thinking about you, and I thought I would call you.”
Did that comment just make your heart flutter? Yes, indeed it did. It’s crazy how in just one day of meeting Adam, you never felt happier. He made you feel things that you thought you’d never feel again.
You both talked for an hour straight, just talking about the tv show you were just watching; meanwhile, he was talking about wanting to build a boat in his apartment. But no matter what, you never have that awkward pause in between topics.
Once the call ended, It made you realize that this was just the beginning and that it would be a bumpy road ahead. But it didn’t matter because it was with him.
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lovespelt · 3 years
Note
Hi again! Back with another poltergeist AU ask 😅 last time was complete fluff and now here’s some hurt/comfort
So you said that Izuku doesn’t need to eat or breathe but I can’t remember if you said whether he has to sleep?
If he doesn’t, is it better for him to sleep so he can conserve energy or is he not able to sleep?
If he does have to or if it’s better for him to, does Izuku get nightmares from his death and does he react in his sleep? Will Inko hear him late at night and go to comfort him? Is he able to go to sleep after the night terror? Does he go and sleep in her bed during the bad nights and she remembers of when he was young but that was just of a bad dream and not because he DIED and my only child DIED and I wasn’t there to protect him and ANGST
If he doesn’t have to sleep, does he just keep putting it off so he doesn’t get nightmares? Does he need someone near him to calm him down? See Izuku going to sleep with Inko above cause so sweet but so hurtful at the same time
Will he still have nightmares in the dorms? Does his classmates hear him and go to see if he’s okay? Do they talk to Aizawa or is Aizawa in the dorms one night and he hears Izuku and goes to protect him but he’s not under attack, he’s having a nightmare and he wakes up and how does Aizawa comfort him?
(Cause Aizawa will definitely have some knowledge of nightmares/night terrors because there is no chance he wasn’t affected by the villains he faced over the years)
What happens with the classmates who have increased hearing or his room neighbours? Will he have a stronger bond because they’re more likely to hear him and therefore comfort him? Do they sometimes go together to comfort him and it eventually ends up to be a cuddle pile?
Does All Might know about the nightmares or since he’s never around when Izuku is asleep does he not know since Izuku doesn’t want to talk about it cause that would mean he’s not fine and talking about it would mean remembering and no no he doesn’t need to do that he’s fine what are you talking about?
Does Bakugo eventually find out about the nightmares? How does he react? Does he find out before he found out how Izuku died and thinks that Balugo himself is the reason Izuku has nightmares cause he thinks Izuku died because of him and Izuku doesn’t say HOW he died just something like “the nightmares are about how I died, the last thing I saw was the notebook” cause that’s the last thing he looked at before he passed out/died. And Bakugo thinks that he’s the reason even MORE.
Okay so you know how I said it’s hurt comfort? Maybe change that to angst with a bit of comfort that turns to MORE angst cause I’m in an angst mood today 😅
I JUST REALLY LIKE THIS AU OKAY
(of course my ideas are gold, it’s in my name! 😆)
well your name is definitely accurate, bc all of yr ideas definitely are pure gold :D (also i rly love h/c, so this ask is completely and totally my Jam)
putting this under a cut bc this got LONG
poltergeist!izuku doesn’t need to sleep, per say, but it feels weird not to?
it makes him feel like he’s.. not human anymore when he doesn’t sleep? so even though he gets nightmares p frequently, izuku still sleeps every night, at least a for a few hours.
and izuku’s nightmares are bad, bc he is traumatized from the whole dying thing. and they can get loud.
he only woke inko up twice with his nightmares, and it rly upset both of them. inko bc of the reasons you said- it’s her only son! this awful thing happened to him! he is traumatized and she doesn’t know how to help!
unfortunately, izuku has a big guilt complex, so when inko gently wakes him up from this awful nightmare, and he sees how pale and teary eyed she is, he feels hugely guilty
after it happens a second time the next night, izuku is determined to stop troubling his mom with his own stupid trauma.
he basically buries his head under blankets every night to muffle the sounds. it’s not the comfiest way to sleep (and it looks kind of silly) but it works!
it becomes part of izuku’s routine, and he keeps it up when he moves to the dorms. even though his mom isn’t around, he doesn’t want to bother his classmates! it’s his problem, not theirs
but they do end up finding out- with all the cuddling going on, it is not unusual for deku to doze off on the couch in the middle of a recharging session
izuku doesn’t necessarily scream himself awake (that normally happens during the nighttime, when he’s in a deeper sleep) but it’s pretty obvious when he’s having a nightmare (he mumbles in his sleep a Lot)
when his friends see him having a nightmare, they usually comfort him w hugs, encourage him to talk about it (although that usually doesn’t work), and get him a cup of tea/cocoa (the universal cure for nightmares!)
bakugou definitely would have Feelings about izuku’s nightmares- they are proof that even months after what happened, deku is still traumatized (which, no duh bakugou, the kid died!)
i think he wouldn’t find out until they lived in the dorms though. by that time, he knows how izuku died (the sludge villain). still, bakugou would  feel guilty about pushing izuku away in middle school and not being around to protect him. deep down, he still feels he’s somewhat to blame.
bakugou would react to his guilt by being super protective of deku- bundling him up in blankets after he wakes up from a nightmare and sticking around while he falls back asleep, to keep him safe.
aizawa would be a little more tough love if he found out izuku was having nightmares - he’d want to know exactly what the dream was about and basically make izuku tell him about it
(izuku would not like talking about them at first, but then find it weirdly helpful? it helps him to get this stuff off his chest. aizawa definitely knows what he’s doing)
all might would find out eventually too- izuku would not bring it up himself, but i’m thinking either aizawa or bakugou (after he finds out abt OFA) would tell him eventually?
all might would b awkward abt bringing the nightmares up, but he wants his boy to know he can talk to him abt these things
izuku’s initial reaction would b basically what you said- “what, i’m fine, it was a long time ago, it’s not a big deal, etc., etc.”
but eventually, because it’s all might, izuku would admit that he still dreams about what happened a lot, and even during the daytime he gets flashbacks/anxiety attacks about it sometimes...
cue hugs, lots of deku crying, and all might vowing to find his kid a good therapist
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dialbforbethany · 3 years
Text
Film Production Management
After our class about pitching I was really interested in trying to make a mood film and I thought it would be fun to make one for my assignment for another module. It’s not very good because I made it super quick but you can find it here.
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Logline
An isolated woman struggles to keep her sanity after experiencing frequent incidents of sleep paralysis.
Synopsis
Lois, a lonely woman living far from the city who has just recently been widowed. Still not used to being alone, one night she starts to experience sleep paralysis sending her into an intense panic as she questions if it was actually sleep paralysis or if it was an intruder. This fear sends her into a spiral of anxiety and hysteria causing the paralysis to become more intense each night. She develops a fear of sleeping at nighttime, ruining her sleep schedule and resulting in the days and nights starting to mesh into one leaving her totally detached and isolated from the physical world. As the terrors become more frequent and more realistic, she seeks ways to make it stop, by using sleeping pills and eventually any drug she can find. She completely loses control as she starts to experience hallucinations even when she thinks she’s awake. She sees the interior of her house changing, walls moving, rooms appearing where she’d never seen them before and the outside world moving in. In the end she visions her house burning up in flames, turning any sense of security or comfort she may or may not have had into a red-hot blaze. After making her way through the maze that was once her home, she desperately flees from the fire landing on the grassy floor of her front garden.
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Statement of Intent
I want this film to take a more creative approach to what the mind looks like and goes through when experiencing this kind of intense and recurring fear. I’ve not heard of a lot of mainstream movies that have dived into this topic and wavered from focusing on only the image of the dark figure-in-the-room. Instead, I picture this film being an experimental piece that focuses on not only the terror one experiences during sleep paralysis, but also the effect this fear has on the mind whilst awake and the impact it can have on an individual’s state of mind. I am so fascinated by the human mind, and more specifically what happens when we are asleep and what is happening to us beyond our consciousness. Much like the unknown depths of the ocean that haven’t been explored, so much so that we don’t know what even exists there, the world of dreaming and the subconscious realm is a complete mystery to us. I find it so interesting that it’s that part of ourselves that connects us to this entire plane of existence that we still don’t know anything about. This film is an exploration of the mind getting lost in the passageway that links dreams and reality.
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Treatment
In the film, there are two styles of visuals that are interchanged depending on what the character is experiencing.
Firstly, whenever Lois is having sleep paralysis or can feel that her sleep paralysis demon (SPD) is around, the film is in black and white (I will call this style 1). With this we can see the contrast between light and dark much more clearly, it is also much grainier and there is some indiscernible dust or ash lightly falling from above. There are some light flares here and there but they are not in colour. Style 1 is mostly filmed with a wider lens as it helps focus on how the character has lost control of the entire space around her and lets the audience compare her position in the room to the faceless being that haunts her. Sometimes the camera will be filming from above or in the corner of the room or as if we are seeing from Lois’ point of view. The soundscape for these scenes will be a mix of plain white noise with snippets of wind, crackling records or VHS tapes hissing, the turning on of a DVD player, paper lightly burning and static.
For the scenes in which Lois is intoxicated, the world has turned into a place full of bright colours (style 2). The screen has lost all of of the grittiness and grain and has a cleaner finish to it, any light sources have a glow that feathers in and out. Style 2 is filmed with a lens with a much smaller millimeter value to get more of a fisheye effect. The actor also sometimes wears a Snorri Cam so the audience can easily see from a perspective that shows what mental state the character is in. The soundscape for style 2 will consist of ambient space music/white noise, water from a stream, a wind chime, relaxed breathing and the rumbling sound of thick stone when they layout of the house is changing.
For this film I wanted to make use of a lot of visual effects in post-production. For style 1, there are a lot of glitches. Sometimes just objects alone, the SPD or the entire screen will be affected. This will look like, for example, objects in the room glitching and disappearing from the set and coming back. The SPD will also jump around the screen like it’s teleporting, sometimes appearing in more than once place at a time.
For style 2, the world will sometimes look like its melting, different shots blur together this time instead of jumping about like style 1 and everything is very bright and saturated. The colours also do not stay the same, like mixing paint they will constantly change and fade into each other.
I also make use of an effect called posterize time in cohesion with all the previously mentioned effects around the time of the climax of the film when these two styles start to merge together to add this feeling of the character being completely detached from the world around her and losing control of her body and the physical world.
I have taken all my inspiration from music videos as in these they have more freedom to play around with a ton of effects and surreal visuals. This is a list of videos that I have watched as part of my research and inspiration stage. I have put timestamps alongside each link to specify where/what exactly I have taken inspiration from.
For style 1:
DPR IAN – No Blueberries - 1:47-2:21 2:51-3:20!!
DEAN – Instagram - 1:20-1:23 / 1:29-2:02 / 3:05-3:24
DPR IAN – So Beautiful - 0:25-1:11 / 2:11-2:50
For style 2:
BTS – Blood Sweat & Tears - whole video but especially 0:16-0:25
BTS – Singularity - 2:29-2:31 2:34-2:37 2:43-2:47 2:50- 2:54 3:16-3:24
TXT – Can't you see me? - 1:03-1:06 1:51-1:56
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snesdudes · 3 years
Note
31?😳😳👀👀
I saw what you did there anon!!! Thank you so much for your request 😍
From this list of prompts.
IN THE DARKNESS WITH YOU
Pairing: Mason x f!detective (Alice Santos)
Prompt: “I’m never going to leave you. I promise.”
Warnings: SOFT MASON ALERT!!! Really, the amount of fluff is surprising even for me. Lil bit of angst as well, specially at the begining. Mason has a nightmare. Alice doesn't have any of his shit.
Words: ~2.4k
Read on ao3
Wayhaven was in silence. The streets empty, the neighbors sleeping. It was four in the morning and the birds weren't awake yet.
In Alice's bedroom, she dreamed peacefully, her face buried in Mason's chest, a cocoon of warmth created by his arms, one under her head, the other lazily resting over her waist. Their naked legs were tangled under the sheets. His breath made some of her curls sway, just in front of his mouth, an inch away to tickle his nose.
She smiled softly in her sleep. She was at the beach, and Unit Bravo was there too. The day was bright and warm and Mason was smiling. Felix's laughter filled the air and Nate and Adam were bantering. They didn't have a care in the world of her dreams.
Mason's fingers twitched against her skin. A low whimper, a frown disturbing his sleeping face. A word uttered in the darkness.
"Alice…"
She stirred in his arms, not quite waking up, but part of her brain acknowledging his distress. She hummed and wrapped her arm tighter around his back, her other hand curled in front of her lips.
"D-don't…"
The nightmare was getting worse. It had been a while since he had felt that level of fear. Sometimes he had dreamed about Murphy. About how he bit her, how he cradled her in his arms when she lost consciousness.
But not tonight.
In his nightmare, he watched as Alice wrapped her arms around herself, hugging her frame tightly. It was as if she was trying not to break into pieces at his feet. He had said something, maybe done something, that was causing her to retreat from him. Silent tears fell down her cheeks.
He was used by now to the way she looked at him (not that it stopped his heart from jumping when he caught certain glances). Sometimes playful, sometimes mischievous, sometimes lustful… but always warm. Always affectionate… loving.
But there was none of that spark in her eyes now. They were dull, blank, as if she didn't recognize him anymore. His heart stuttered inside his chest and he reached for her, but her eyes widened and she took a step back, his fingers grasping on air. He could see her knuckles turning white at how tightly she was hugging herself.
"Don't touch me." Her voice, which he expected to be sharp as a blade, was broken and ragged, and she fell to her knees. "I can't believe…"
Mason took a step towards her, but no matter how much he tried to advance, she was not closer.
"Alice… Don't…"
She sobbed and looked at him accusingly.
"Are you happy now?" She wailed loudly.
"Mason…"
He frantically searched around him, not quite placing where the other voice was coming from. But the kneeling Alice snarled at him.
"Is this what you wanted?"
Her arms opened to show him what he had done.
"Mason!"
He woke up with a start, forest green eyes staring at him worriedly, her hands pressed against both sides of his face.
"Alice? You… you were…"
His senses were dampened by both her presence and his adrenaline, the beating of his heart panicked and out of control, and hers quite accelerated as well, in what he could recognize as concern. He realized he was squeezing her in his arms, maybe too tight, but she didn't seem to mind, too occupied with examining his expression.
"I'm here." She muttered, bumping her forehead against his. His eyes fluttered closed and he took a deep breath, letting her scent overwhelm his senses and cloud his brain.
He kissed her. Hard.
She grunted and let him pour his anxiety on her lips, swallowing his nightmare obediently, not recoiling or retreating like she had done on his dream.
And suddenly he was out of her reach. Alice blinked in confusion and saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, his back glistening with sweat in the dim light of the moon that poured through the window.
"Mason?"
"It's too fucking hot in here."
He was suffocating.
She got up and padded quickly to the window, opening it and letting the cool air of the night invade the bedroom, shivering slightly when it hit her.
When she turned around he had a cigarette between his lips, the hand with the lighter trembling ever so slightly. She could have missed it if she didn't know him so well.
A minute went by in silence, only disturbed by him puffing out smoke. She was standing in front of him, fearing he would get away from her if she reached out, but dying to get close to him and comfort him, to discover what was disturbing him.
She couldn't hold back anymore and reached out to his face, but as she feared, he got up before she could touch him.
"Where are my clothes?" He asked, putting the cigarette out in the ashtray on the nightstand. He was in his boxers, looking around the bedroom.
"Um, in the living room."
His eyes found hers for a moment, and something flashed there, but she couldn't quite place it. The memories of the night before, how they shedded each other's clothes as if they couldn't stand a single second without being skin to skin? Or had it something to do with that nightmare, the one that had him whimpering her name?
"Right." He nodded, looking away from her and walking towards the living room.
Something was wrong.
Without thinking, she darted to the door and blocked his path, arms extended at her sides. His eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"What are you doing?" There was genuine confusion in his voice.
"You're not leaving like this."
He scoffed. "You know you can't stop me if I want to go."
Oh, how true were those words. Her heart jumped at the multiple implications that statement had, and Mason arched a brow at her.
"I know." She finally said, hands resting on each side of the threshold, slowly sliding down until they were limp at her sides. She met his eyes. "But I'm asking you to stay."
The vampire stared at her for several seconds - he could leave, get dressed and get out of there, but he knew it would hurt her if he did so, he could see it in her eyes - and he sighed.
"I gotta get out of here, sweetheart." He spoke, voice softer, the nickname almost a plea. She gave him a determined nod.
"Then let's get dressed."
Ten minutes later, they were driving through the streets of Wayhaven in silence. Mason had his eyes closed, as if he was enjoying every minute of peace the nighttime was bringing him. The detective stole glances at him, her concern still clawing at her stomach, but she pushed it away for his sake. She knew better than to push Mason to speak when he didn't want to.
When she turned off the engine, he opened his eyes. They had entered the forest and followed a dirt track deeper into the trees, until they couldn't keep going forwards. He looked around, at the forest illuminated by the moonlight and threw a long smirk to her.
"You brought me to a make out spot?"
She snorted a laugh, surprised, but happy to see some of his snark was back.
"It kinda is a make out spot, but I thought you'd appreciate the silence."
Mason nodded, but still said. "Let's go to the backseat?"
Alice rolled her eyes. "Really? You had me in a bed and now you wanna hook up in a tiny car?"
She expected a smirk and a reply that could make her blush, but the intensity of his gaze caught her off guard. "Backseat. Come on."
She nodded, swallowing hard, and exited the car to slide into the backseat at the same time he did. He did not grab her and pulled her on top of him, he did not devour her mouth with a kiss.
His arms wrapped around her. One around her shoulders, the other around her waist, bringing her closer until her legs rested on his lap. With her head against his chest, the surprised detective could hear the hammering of his heart, sounding as if he had just run a marathon.
He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. He let himself get carried away until everything he could feel was her -- on his skin, her warmth. Her scent blocking every other smell and almost coating his tongue. Her gentle breathing and that heartbeat he had come to love know, the only sound he could hear. And he relaxed when her arms sneaked their way around his frame, rubbing soothing circles on his back.
This is stupid. It was just a dream.
He thought about pulling away. But she hummed in satisfaction and nuzzled his neck with her nose, and he held her tighter.
A few minutes passed in silence, until their heartbeats and breathings synchronized.
"You can ask." His husky voice broke the peace and she sighed softly.
"Are you okay?" That was her main worry. She didn't have to know what had happened if he was alright now.
"Yeah." I am now. His breath hit her forehead when he spoke, and she couldn't help but notice how good it felt to be wrapped in each other like this. It felt so intimate, in a new way she was utterly enjoying.
"Does it happen often?"
"Not really."
"You wanna tell me what it was about?"
He took a deep breath. "I had done something to you." He confessed, voice almost a whisper, and she fought the urge to look up at him. She feared the spell would break if they made eye contact. "I hurt you. You were crying and - and you had a hole in your chest. In your heart." Her eyebrows shot up and she couldn't help but look up at him, noses brushing and eyes meeting.
"That sounds messed up."
He nodded slowly, grey eyes lost. He was staring at her but she wondered what he was seeing. "I couldn't get to you. You didn't want me near you."
I had lost you.
Alice was becoming a master in reading between the lines with Mason. But she didn't have to think much about what his nightmare and his words meant, and she could have melted in his arms at the implications of it.
“I’m never going to leave you. I promise.”
His breath hitched in his throat, pulling back slightly to search her face for any hints of lies. But she never lied, he knew that already. She wore her heart on her sleeve, something that made him roll his eyes when they met, now something he cherished and respected deeply.
"You can't promise that."
To his surprise, a soft smile grazed her full lips. She raised a hand, fingertips traveling through his features - tracing his eyebrows, his cheekbones, the contour of his lips, finally settling under his chin, grasping it with her thumb and her forefinger.
"I can promise you I won't leave if you don't want me to."
The silence suddenly felt dense, tension crackling between them.
So many things unspoken.
And if I never want you to leave?
Then I will be with you forever.
Their breathings were heavier, and they couldn't tell who had moved first but they were lost in a deep kiss before they realized.
Could it be true? Could the woman in his arms remain there for eternity?
Was this real? Did he want her by his side so much?
Lips parting, tongues and teeth and whimpers, their kisses went on for several minutes, none of them willing to stop, but not trying to take it further either. They had time for that.
She broke the kiss and gasped for air, her whole body thrumming to a song only he knew how to play. He was nearly panting, letting her catch her breath, kissing down her neck and up again, his fingers grasping her tight enough to bruise - a reminder that she was here, she was his, she didn't want to leave.
"Do you really promise?"
God, the sound of his voice against her skin had her nerves alight, husky and low and deep as it was, making her shiver. But the smile on her face was amused, noticing he wanted a confirmation, knowing they were exchanging feelings more than words.
They were so clueless, yet they always found a way to understand each other.
When she didn't reply, he looked up at her grin and saw her hand between them, her little finger out, ready to make a promise.
"Pinky promise?" She chanted happily, and he couldn't help but snort a laugh.
"How are you so fucking ridiculous?" But he was laughing, and it was beautiful, so her smile widened.
"Don't leave me hanging, sunshine."
He bit her pinky and she squealed before he silenced her with another kiss, a soft one this time, gentle. It was curious how they were unaware of the fact that in that moment, they both shared the same thought.
How did I get so lucky?
"Ready to go?" She muttered against his lips, and he nodded.
"Yeah. Let's go home."
Satisfaction ran through his veins at the utter delight in her soft features, he called her apartment home - it wasn't so long ago that she would always wake up to a lonely bed. Foreheads bumping together for a moment, she sighed happily before they went back to the front seats.
She sang along to the radio on the way back and he observed her, curiosity mixing with fondness and disbelief.
The sun was starting to rise, but they still could steal a couple of hours of sleep.
They undressed and she didn't miss the way he watched her, a smirk on his lips. "We didn't take advantage of the make out spot."
"First a nap." She chuckled, sliding into the bed sheets with him following close. "Then I'm all yours."
He hummed his approval as she settled in his arms, his body covering hers in a tight embrace.
"Sounds good. Really good."
They drifted off when the first birds started to sing, knowing they would wake up tangled together. Knowing they had time to get lost in each other.
All the time in the world.
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desiraypark · 4 years
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Much Needed Assistance (5)
“The Day Off” Previous (“Scrambled Brain”) Entire Work Content: Okay, guys. I probably should have warned you four posts ago (I didn’t initially plan to make this series), but this “relationship” does not become “nice” or “soft”. Mind games are coming into play now. For the safety of anyone who continues to read this, or who merely scrolls by, this series will become triggering, if not already. I will spoil this series’ plot after the “Keep Reading” break. Angst; Kylo Ren showing more of his true self; Manipulation; self-blame; good day ruined From this point forward: Mental abuse TW | Emotional abuse TW | Intimidation TW | Humiliation TW | Word Count: 1,857
SPOILING THE PLOT (If it isn’t obvious by now): Kylo Ren is trying to turn Reader to the Dark Side--or rather, make her view her work with the Final Order as more than “just a job”, or a way to make money. Kylo Ren wants to produce heirs... ...but Kylo Ren is opting to be disingenuous about all of this.
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The mattress dipped. There was no cuddling or spooning at the end of it all—but you felt the warmth disappear when his body did. Kylo was about to start his day with exercise, meaning it would soon be time for you to get up and start your own day. You watched him walk into the main room and grab last night’s abandoned garments. He returned to the room and tossed your clothing on the bed.    “I’ll only want black coffee for breakfast,” he said putting his robe on. You lifted your body, grabbed the nightgown, and pulled it over your cool skin. “Just coffee? No smoothie?” He walked out the bedroom. “Just coffee means just coffee.” You swallowed and placed your feet on the cold floor, letting the nightgown fall to your calves, then you put your underwear on. Whoooosh!—ran the shower water. Kylo said nothing more, even as you walked past the bathroom and looked in his face before he stepped into the shower and drew the curtain.
“Our security on planet Devaron have captured remaining Resistance members and allies,” General Pryde announced. “They’ve held them for questioning, but they aren’t budging. Should we give them the okay?”    Pryde called the morning meeting very early—giving you no time to indulge in a shower to think about the night before. You sat in your usual place, behind Kylo Ren, jotting down notes from the meeting. But your thighs were on fire. Sitting still you focus only on the pain—but moving was a bitch. You shifted in your seat, causing a squeak to echo throughout the room. No one paid attention, however. “No. Tell them to keep a close eye on them. I will pay them a visit myself. We should—” Squeak. The Supreme Leader paused. You grimaced and clutched your pencil. “We should send a message out to all the bases, telling them to keep watch of their planets. Keep an eye on their bases, their ports, their cantinas—any place that holds space for meetings.” “Yes, Supreme Leader,” General Pryde said. You straightened your spine to give your lower back a stretch. “Captain Undilla, we shall make plans to visit Devaron and the rest of the Col—” Squeak, went the chair, as you rested your spine. Kylo slowly turned around at his waist, and you swallowed. “Y/N, do you need medical attention?” All eyes fell on you, and your chest burned.    “No, Supreme Leader,” you answered meekly. “Do you require a sedative?” he pushed. Your eyes narrowed and you drew in a deep breath. “No, Sir,” you responded with a sardonic tone. The mask lingered on your face, as did the curious—and fearful—eyes behind him. You broke the stare and looked down at your notepad. In your peripheral, you saw him face his personnel. “We shall make plans to visit Devaron and the rest of the Colonies, at your earliest convenience, Captain Undilla,” he continued. “I could be available right after the Troopers’ training, Supreme Leader,” she responded. “Very well.” You flipped over to the previous page of your notepad, where you’d written the day’s agenda. Training for new Stormtroopers usually ended at noon, but there was an appointment to meet with droid engineers at 11:45. Ren had been irritable all morning—giving deadpan responses to most of your questions. He’d deemed this appointment one of importance when he scheduled it, but now you needed to gauge its current status. Last week, you wouldn’t have had any problem breaking through the Final Order chatter to remind Ren of the appointment, but now, anxiety shrouded you. Now, he seemed likely to Force slam you onto the floor for opening your mouth. “What is it that you need to say, Y/N?” he cut across General Firestone. The room fell silent. “I didn’t say anything, Sir,” you answered foolishly. You knew good and well he could sense your tension. This time, he didn’t bother turning to face you--he just talked over his shoulder. “You are fretting over something important, Y/N. Will you call me a liar by saying that you’re not?” Eyes fell on you again. Frankly, the officers staring at you humiliated you more than Ren being a dick. You cleared your throat. “You have an appointment with the droid department at 11:45, Sir.” “Common sense says that this meeting with Captain Undilla now takes priority. Do you possess common sense?” Your heart began to pound. Surges of heat shot across your limbs and pooled in your joints. What had you done, other than what he wanted? Had you not pleased him? As an assistant and a lover? Where was this aggression coming from? “I will reschedule with the droid department, Sir.” “That wasn’t what I asked. Do…you possess…common sense?” he asked. “I possess common sense. Supreme Leader.” His jaw lingered over his arm for a few seconds, then he turned back around. Tears welled in your eyes, and the Supreme Leader continued with the conference. When it was over, you gathered your notepad and followed Ren out of the room in silence. Suddenly, he stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned—causing you to pump imaginary brakes on your heels. “Take the rest of the day off,” he demanded. He snatched your notebook from your hands, and before you could question him, he turned around and continued down the hallway.
You retreated to your room and caught up on a couple of hours of sleep. Sleep…what was that? You hadn’t had a good nap or any good sleep since you became that man’s personal assistant. Later, with aching thighs, you traveled the ship without any goal: you watched Stormtroopers train and engineers work on starships. You even got to enjoy a big meal from the mess hall—with dessert! Even as an administrative secretary, you never got to have a hefty lunch. You fiddled around in your room some more before you met up with your old friends in the secretarial pool. “Well, if it isn’t the “esteemed Y/N”—personal assistant to the almighty Supreme Leader!” Mars joked. Everyone got a chuckle out of it. Him and Tima were shutting down their systems, as Violet and Xiyon were booting theirs up. Mars and Violet were the daytime and nighttime archivists, respectively. They filed every important photo, video, and document that the various departments of Final Order base sent their way for safe keeping. Tima and Xiyon were the daytime and nighttime secretaries of correspondence—sending all kinds of messages throughout the galaxy on behalf of the Final Order’s members—both high and low ranking. Then, there was Perra—the nighttime administrative secretary, whom you shared a desk with. “Is there still no administrative secretary for the first shift?” you asked. “Nope,” Tima responded. “Unfortunately, me and Mars have been doing such a good job of holding down the office, they probably won’t bother hiring someone else.” Tima and Mars gathered their things and walked over to cover you in quick hugs. “How’s the throne room?” Perra asked, smacking on her gum. “I’ve never stepped foot in there,” you responded. “And I don’t think he has, either.” “Seriously?” Mars asked. “I thought he’d be hot glued to that thing.” “Ha!” Tima chimed in. The three of you walked out of the office. “Have a good night, girls!” you waved at the remaining workers. They waved and blew you kisses goodbye, and you marched down the hallway with your friends. “I can’t believe he let you off your leash. What are you doing with us regular people?” Tima asked. You rolled your eyes at her comment. “Believe it or not, he gave me the day off,” you said. As your pace increased with excitement, pain seared across your thighs. You winced at the sensation. “I actually don’t believe it. Be honest with us. Did you kill him?” Mars asked. You let out a hearty laugh. “Shh!” Tima said. “You know that man listens…” Mars covered his mouth. “Oh, yeah. Tima told me he nearly yanked you away from your sour ropes and honey buns.” You all marched through the hallways and out the doors to the residential area of campus. Tima and Mars washed up, changed into “leisure” uniforms, and you sat with them in the courtyard to catch up on work, work, work. You didn’t dare let them see that your lower body was screaming for a bath, because then, you had to tell them why you were in pain. And you were a terrible liar. They asked you about everything from the Supreme Leader’s helmet to his robes, and even asked what kind of hair products he used. You mostly laughed off their silly questions but fed them a few crumbs to keep them from probing into his…night activities. Just before the sun set, the three of you dashed back to the mess hall for dinner, then you took them to your quarters. You missed your old lodging arrangement. Sure, you were at the heart of the operation—but you’d gone from sharing an apartment with Tima, to living in a windowless room with a bathroom you could barely turn around in. Most of the low-level Final Order workers shared apartments with two, three, sometimes even four people. No children lived on the base, so there was no use for houses. High-level workers—the doctors and nurses; engineers; the captains, generals, and lieutenants who met with Kylo Ren three times a day—they were the only ones who typically had apartments to their selves. But you’d made a little home out of your room—cute little plants sat on just about every surface. Crystals and stones dotted various areas of the room. Your favorite decorations, however, were the mementos from back home—the plate from your first (and only) speeder bike; the gold necklace your father gave you. The evening had gone splendidly—you laughing and conversing with your friends. Just as they got up to leave, you heard the quiet beeps at your door. You froze, when the helmeted figure walked into your room. “Where have you been?” Tima and Mars jumped up—Tima from your bed and Mars from your floor. They stood straight, and frozen. But you just stared where his eyes might have been, confused. “I’ve been all over the base, Sir. Were you looking for me?” “Of course, I was looking for you. Did you forget that you have a job?” “Sir, you—” “Leave us…” he growled to Tima and Mars. They jumped and glanced at you. You frowned and nodded. “Get out!” Ren repeated. They jumped again and skipped out of the room. He stood yards away from you. Still. Silent. You couldn’t even hear him breathing. Your blast door closed behind him. You swallowed your shaking fear. “Sir, you gave me the day off,” you reminded him. “I gave you the day off,” he said. Your stomach started to do backflips. Just what had you gotten yourself into? “I apologize, Sir.” More silence. His squeezing fists caught your attention, and your heart began to pound. Then, thump…thump…thump…he ascended on you in painfully slow motion, and he did not stop. His intimidating figure towered over you. That horrific helmet—that mask—brought tears to your eyes.
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I feel you
Author's note:
@raven-romanoff
@maristela1968
For you again, lovelies!
This is the first smut I write after almost two years. I hope you like it!
As always, sorry for any typos. English is not my first language.
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Summary: Follow up to "I understand you".
As his strange relationship with Harleen oscillates between friendship and desire, Arthur takes the things to another level.
Warnings: angst, self hatred, mentions of masturbation, swearing, house breaking, strong sexual themes and smut.
Words: 6.258
Part 1:
Part 2:
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Arthur couldn't sleep that night. His mind, overtaken by a growing confidence, tormented with new feelings for her created a dark, devilish smile in his face. He closed the door carefully, taking off his hoodie, shirt and shoes, wearing only sweatpants around the house, smoking a cigarette. He sat on the couch, knees bouncing. Something in his chest burns. That night Arthur felt different. He felt sure of his actions, instead of the usual anxiety and fear. Replaying the wonderful moment which he was the protagonist of, savoring every detail, while directing to the table. Her voice echoed through his head, her smile painting across his memory, the way she looked at him. His feet weren't able to keep still and Arthur knew this hyperventilation was caused by the shock of his first intimate contact with a woman. He already planned what he would do once they'd meet again. Probably to take her to dinner or simply going to the playground with a coffee and cigarettes to spend the night talking.
Handing himself his treasured journal, Arthur searched for the section dedicated to her. Grabbing a pen, he wrote her name. Misspelled, but affectionately.
Harlen Quenzel.
He tried in vain to write anything else, because his mind clouded basking in a bliss he had never felt before.
The blinding white light coming from above the kitchen hindered the happy replay of the image of Harleen coming closer to him to kiss his lips. But he simply turned it off. The tips of his fingers touched the dry flesh blessed by her mouth. Lighting a cigarette he fantasizes now. Taking her in the floor, in the bedroom or in the couch... She would love it. Arthur guaranteed himself that. The proof was clear: she had enjoyed his sudden and explosive display of passion. He suppressed a chuckle, afraid of another fit of laughter. But it did not go further. He stood in the dark for a while, before going to the couch to try to get some sleep. His mind was way too excited to even hold his legs still. The lucky loner grabbed the pack of cigarettes, smoking another one immediately after finishing the other one. Thing was, he couldn't consummate his passion in this moment... But he certainly could let his mind fly by thinking about Harleen and her virtues for now. Arthur headed to the bathroom.
A little joy given by himself wouldn't be so bad. ________________________________________
Over the next two months, the strange relationship between Arthur and Harleen grew from a friendship that had frequent outbursts of passion to long hours of talking about anything, from work to jokes.
As much as Arthur felt a silently uncontrollable lust for Harleen, he truly felt affection and caring for her. This was shown in small gestures like inviting her to dinner or waiting up late when her shift was over whenever neither of them would spend the entire night sleeping. They had each other and it was okay with that. In was in these situations where their bond grew. It was so ironic that the one thing that prevented an actual rest to his tormented mind also allowed to have the closest and most meaningful relationship he ever had in his life.
Arthur became more introverted than he already was. He didn't talk too much at work and had the growing tendency to isolate from others. To his co-workers this was probably another demonstration of his deteriorated mental state but Arthur was too busy trying to cope with these new feelings. He was asked more than once about this but he avoided to answer, limiting to reply he was okay. At the end of the day, the party clown left with a anxious pace. His co-workers were sure Arthur had finally lost his mind. And in some way, he did. Why was he in a rush? They would never know.
It was saturday when things changed. Arthur came back from a gig to Haha's with his clown make up on. Once in, he cleaned it from his face to leave without saying anything afterwards, too withdrawn into his daydreaming. He set a foot into the bus, as always, facing the window. The lights of daylight disappeared into the darkness or the night, rain pouring out. Arthur shielded from the cold sinking into his partly tattered hoodie. By this hour, Harleen should have been in her workplace. He just hoped no one would harm her at the time of her return. Arthur thought he could wait for her at the building's entrance, making sure she was safe. Harleen would like it.
He thought this weekend would be different. And Arthur had a very good reason why.
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It was Sunday when Arthur got up early to clean the house and to prepare breakfast for Penny to feed during the first lights of day.
It was in this way he could focus completely on his upcoming date at night. As the day vanished for nighttime to arrive, he put a cheap cologne on, his pants perfectly ironed. Same with the shirt and red vest. And the usual yellow hoodie Harleen learned to love so much. His excitement reflected in his voice as he waved goodbye to his always distracted mother, who simply waved back, not interested on how much brighter Arthur's eyes were in that moment. Heading to the door, he heard a frustrating ask:
"Happy, can you put this letter in the box?"
His shoulders lose strength. Arthur tried his best to hide his annoyance.
"It's for Thomas Wayne".
"I know, mom", the whisper was almost inaudible. Returning to the living room, he took the letter gently just to jump back to the door to free himself, "I'll be back at night".
She just nodded. And he finally breathed his freedom, feeling more confident than ever. But his sense of victory over the world vanished as he realized he still had that fucking letter in hand. A tired sigh leaves his lips. But he ran as fast as possible to reach the first floor to get rid of the piece of useless attempt to get attention from a man who maybe didn't remember her. The rusty locker received it and Arthur at last could set a foot outside the building, crossing his arms.
Harleen arrived a few seconds later. Arthur smiled, coming closer to her. Her outfit was unpretentious but neat: black pants and sneakers, a red wool sweater. Her hair was done into two colourful buns and a few strands which fell into her face. But the thing he liked the most was that blood red lipstick... And her grin made it better.
"Hello, clown man", Harleen nuzzled his nose tenderly. It was an habit he loved from her, as any other touch. He chuckled, greeting her back. Then both got out of the building, leading to the donut shop so they could have coffee and toast.
"So, how was your week?", Harleen asked as Arthur held his cup, drinking the steamy hot liquid.
"It was fine. I had a gig in a children's hospital. It turned out great because it was a charity event".
"Really?"
"Yeah. They were... Getting money for families that cannot afford to pay treatments".
Harleen nodded, warming her hands with the mug. Arthur then returned the question. Harleen told him the bar had more regulars than usual. This caught her eye, and paid very much attention to it during the weekly shift.
"What is it?".
"People are drinking their souls out" she replied, after eating her toast, "and that's not all. There was a recently fired guy that feared if Wayne is elected mayor, unemployment and riots will get worse."
Arthur lowered his head. He ate the toast to state:
"Why do so many people believe in that man, anyway?"
"He's rich, successful and an entrepreneur. Men like him have no idea how to run a city for the simple fact that entrepreneurs like him see people as numbers, not as complex sentient beings."
"How come?", Arthur fixed his collar.
"They only care for economy, Arthur. They disregard the fact that not everyone has the same chances for success they had and therefore any help for impoverished people is nothing but a "waste of money". Wayne is convinced that everyone who receives any kind of welfare doesn't want to work." Arthur remained silent for a while, processing what she just said.
"Men like him will never know what is like to be someone like you or me", Harleen concluded, finishing her coffee.
"But at least we have our jobs" Arthur commented comically.
"Yeah, as long as we get paid" and both laughed.
The shop was almost empty, which made easier to listen to the radio while talking. This gave them more topics to talk about. But then a song came out. Arthur knew it, he closed his eyes, engulfing himself in the gloomy tune of the song:
"King of all
Hear me call
Hear my name
Carnival"
Harleen did not interrupt. She understood that Arthur, as an extremely introverted person, couldn't be interrupted when exploring, talking or listening. It was pleasant to see him glad or enjoying things for once. She smiled as he mouthed the lyrics, which he knew perfectly. As the song came to an end, Harleen extended her hand, eyeing Arthur to look for his approval. As much as he enjoyed the sudden outbursts of affection, Arthur still wasn't used to publicly show it. Harleen comprehended as well and wouldn't force him to do it. She discovered it when going back from a previous date when she just held his hand. He became a blushing mess but it didn't go further, thank goodness.
Arthur noted the hand whose black and red nail polish established a hurtful contrast in comparison to her light skin. He then looked at her. He slid his own towards Harleen's. Their hands intertwined. Another little touch and he was already yearning for her. Arthur wanted to love her without words, without distance between them. Just the two of them. He wanted so much to tell her, but didn't dare to. Despite the fact he adored her, there was something he could never tell her... Yet.
There was something Arthur loathed about himself but he did his best to not to give it too much importance, choosing to focus on other things, instead. Arthur Fleck was a man and as such, he had needs. But the need wasn't the problem. Satisfying it was. He was comprehensive enough to understand that motherly affection was the closest thing he ever had to love. Devoid of any bond with anyone else, he frequently masturbated to soothe the sexual need. Usually to porn magazines whose pages he tore up to stick them in his journal. A fulfilling sexual life was a dream, far away from his reach. He could only see it but never take part in it, as it was with everything in his life. An eternal spectator, never a protagonist. Thinking of her, lusting after her... And he wasn't able to even mutter a fucking word. He cursed the emptiness roaming during all his life. Because he had nothing to offer her except desire. His inexperience was never a problem, given his surrender to embrace a life of solitude. Until now. Her arrival to his life made him remember how much of a man he was. And her kindness just fanned the fire within him.
Harleen squeezed his hand a little more, noting his unsettled nerve. Arthur sighed, out of the gloomy, bleak storm that creeped out as a dark mist in his mind. But her face shines as a small light of hope. Her eyes promised so many good things that he couldn't bring himself to believe.
"What's troubling you, Mr. Fleck?" her smile was accomplice, as if she knew what was lurking into the labyrinth of his mind, but wanting to hear it from his mouth.
"I just... I was thinking about...", Harleen encouraged him to tell her. He inhaled deeply, lighting a cigarette to cope with the newfound stress. Once again, his everlasting negative thoughts clouded the moment. The vocal cords were unresponsive. His hand broke contact with hers to hold his forehead, looking for the right words to speak. His knees bounced. Harleen leaned in, waiting.
"Artie?"
The tender pronunciation of the diminutive form of his name turned his gaze to her.
"I think I prefer to tell you... In private".
Harleen nodded. The response sounded too dark. And she knew that if Arthur talked like that, it was something serious. They left the donut shop, walking towards the subway. It was almost empty and dark. Just a few people were on it. The couple sit down, with Harleen tangling the arm around his to tilt her head on his shoulder. Arthur kept his eyes on the window, trying to figure out how the fuck he'd tell her about it.
As they reached the last stop, they left the subway station to step up the stairs and then Arthur reached a dirty, dark public restroom surrounded on the outside of a fence. Both stopped for a moment before the gnawed door. Harleen looked up to the party clown's dark features. He pronounced no words.
"Arthur?"
"There's something I need to tell you", his murmur comes shy, cast down.
"What is it?"
He stepped away from her. His hands clasp his mouth, disapproving his thoughts. He shook his head, eyes shut. Circling his own personal space, lightheaded. Harleen came closer to him.
"Is it bad?"
Arthur glared at her, guilty.
"I mean... I don't know how to tell you. I just hope you don't laugh at me".
"Why would I do that?".
Arthur half opened his eyes.
"I want...", It took a long, deep inhalation to pronounce the first part. He coughed, to clear his throat seconds later, "I need to tell you... That I really like you... And--", he silenced his words, trying to put them correctly in his mind.
"And?"
"See" he sighed, "I've..."
Harleen widened her eyes in anticipation.
"I've been thinking about you a lot... and I would be lying if I tell you I don't want something else".
"What is 'something else'?" Harleen whispered.
Arthur processed the question. And then answered:
"It's just..." He brushed the small beads of sweat on his forehead with the palm of his hand, "I love the way you touch me, Harleen" Arthur continued, "and I simply can't get enough of it".
"Because we both need it, Arthur. I love just as much as you do. That makes it so satisfying", he chuckled, humbled. Harleen expected more of him.
"That's not all", he gazed not to her. This was the one moment that could end it all or strengthen this precious bond of theirs.
"Arthur" she called him, "don't be afraid. Please tell me".
"I want to sleep with you", Arthur finally confessed, gazing at her. His eyes confirmed the statement. He blinked slowly, wanting her to see the animalistic yearn on them.
Harleen stared at him, shocked of how much he trusted her to confess something so intimate. His breathe had shortened. His green eyes glowed like emeralds, embellished even more with his pupils dilated. The blonde invited him inside the bathroom so they could keep baring their souls. Arthur inspected the place to make sure it was completely safe to stay there. Harleen locked the door once they knew it was unoccupied.
"I don't want to beg for love" Arthur said, his voice raspy, "but I don't want to lie to you. I want to know if you feel the same" Arthur spoke in a very low voice. Harleen looked at him, infatuated before this new dark vibe from him. He looked like a totally different person. Her fingers slid into his curls.
"I knew it already, Arthur."
"And why doesn't it bother you?"
"Because I can understand why you want it".
Arthur turned to her. Never in his life he felt more expecting. Harleen explained, in very simple terms, that she found his attachment understandable: Arthur had been deprived of love during all his life and this new bond made him feel important. From becoming visible and cared for to reaffirm his manhood through sexual desire. Arthur heard every word carefully, and it made sense. Everything made fucking sense. It was through sexual intercourse that men felt loved.
Love.
It was always about love, at the end of all.
Harleen returned the cigarette to him.
"Don't blame yourself. You're a human, after all. Sex is the most pleasant of human activities, so don't feel bad for enjoying it".
"It's not that I don't enjoy it. I don't feel ready to do it, despite of how much I want it".
Harleen frowned, and her silence just made Arthur confess one of his most (if not the most) shameful secrets. Only now she knew the extent of her impact in his life. She knew a lot about him, including the seven medications he was in, but this? She had been aware of the way he looked at her, but hearing him actually admitting it out loud made her shudder. Her arms locked around his shoulders to pull Arthur to a kiss in the cheek.
"It's not a race or a competition. You just feel and act according to your instincts. Also, I'd be lying too if I said I don't want anything else" Arthur sank his eyes into Harleen's, "quite frankly, we were close to have sex the night we first talked if it wasn't because I was too tired to do so, but now, if you don't feel ready to do it, I won't pressure you to do anything".
"Starting a friendship in that way? I like it" he hummed, mischievous.
"We are not friends... Because... Friends are not supposed to touch each other. That's what lovers do. But... We aren't lovers, yet" Harleen whispered.
"Then what are we?" Arthur asked.
"We are, Arthur. We simply are" this time her kiss directed to his mouth. _________________________________________
Arthur changed his damp clothes to avoid the cold. The bedroom TV was turned on as well as the hall lights. The usual. He prepared the dinner for his mother, bathing her and making sure she'd go to bed. The conversation was the same. Thomas fucking Wayne and the fucking letters. Arthur had no interest on losing energy on nonsense, so he only nodded. He took a shower and shaved the growing beard and wore his grey sweatpants. A few observations written in the pages of the journal about his day at Haha's and Arthur felt his routine was finished, therefore he could count down to the moment when Harleen was back at home from work. His eyes darted at the clock. 1:14 am. Less than two hours for her return. He felt confident enough to go to her apartment and stay all night with her. He smoke five cigarettes in the meantime, walking over the house. Turning the TV on so time wouldn't pass so long. He sat at the couch, waiting for an old rerun of Murray Franklin's Show. An actor was to be interviewed but he couldn't focus entirely on it. He laid down. His mind pictured her beside him. However, as much as he cherished all the physical and emotional affection from her, it wasn't enough anymore. It was hard to accept it but that's just the way it was. As the show ended, an old movie ran. Arthur turned the device off. The clock sets the time: 2:24 am. Less than hour. He got up, turning the lights off, hoodie in hand and determination in his mind. Locking the door, Arthur left. He walked across the halls, stepping down to the destination: 7H. The door was unlocked, much to his surprise. The loner felt truly in home. If only she was in there for him to shower her in his affection. But he then realized the neon lights were on. His heart skipped a beat. The air seemed... Different. He stood as quiet as possible to see what was going on. The rain slightly broke the total silence that ruled the place. Arthur reached the living and then, only then, he saw her.
Harleen was placidly sleeping on the couch, wearing a two part, peach coloured pajamas. Her mane was a mess of white, blue and pink strands that fell over her face. Her head rested on a pillow and her pose revealed how comfy her sleep was. Kneeling beside the couch, Arthur leaned over her face, his fingers set aside the colourful mane to obtain the beautiful vision of her peaceful facial expression. His thumb glided over her lips, which he soon joined with his. It was slow, intimate kiss, full of subtle hunger.
Seconds later, her hands cupped his face to make the caress steadier, humming playfully. Arthur broke the kiss to eye her. Half sleep, Harleen smiled at him.
"Hey" he called, secretive.
"Good night, Mr. Fleck", she muttered, voice pasty, "another insomnia night?" but he shook the head.
"I thought you weren't here. I couldn't help it", he muttered.
“Never said I mind. Bar closed earlier and here I am”.
“Really? Why?”
“The riots, Arthur. Boss preferred to send us home before any damage could be done by the protesters”.
Arthur made room for himself in the cozy, fluffy long couch. Asking if she was okay, Harleen just replied she took a taxi to make home safely. Arthur sighed, relieved. The blonde smiled at him but didn’t move any further. He noticed that, blaming for being so inconsiderate. Getting into her apartment and disturbing her rest like that? What a awful friend (lover) he was! Recoiling with guilt and diving again in the brooding mood so typical on him, he distanced from his love. She fell asleep once more. Arthur kept his gaze on her, tracing invisible touches in her curves. She was so close yet so far. He wanted to be a part of her, to be with her.
Inside of her.
The calloused fingers held his face to wash away the shame. The nerves were too much to take. The laugh gestated in a noise initially deaf to hear from afar to a thunderous fit. Harleen jolted at the sudden outburst. Arthur couldn’t feel worse. The expression on his face was so desperate for silence that the blonde immediately went after him when he shrugged, attempting in vain to drown the horrible noise that made his vocal cords bleed. Harleen dissuaded Arthur of any idea of escape just to hold him. The mentally ill loner sank his face into her neck. The embrace didn’t stop the scandalous explosion to keep shattering the quietness of the place, sensing Harleen squeezed his faint figure, seemingly trying to put every piece of his broken yet beautiful soul to help to soothe the pain.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—“
Her voice hushed his apologize. As the din disappeared into nothingness, both returned to the living room on the couch but Arthur took a step back from her.
“Why?”
Puzzled, Harleen frowns. She gave him space to recover.
“Why what?”
“Why me?”, Arthur regained strength to ask her, staring at her for a long period of time, “of all men you can have, why me?”
For the first time, Harleen seemed upset.
“If you think I do this out of pity, you are very, very wrong” the fire in her eyes was fascinating.
“Then why?”
Harleen processed the question while Arthur desperately awaited the reason to be verbalised.
“Please”.
She gulped.
“Because you’re a good man, Arthur”.
The response was too simple to be believable, though it was grateful to hear a compliment from her. Desiring more, his stare pierced her soul, to let her take the hint. Imprisoned under the green spell of his, Harleen proceeded to continue:
“I mean- you are always trying to make people laugh, yet people don’t see you and you still continue. You love what you do, you have been kind to me, you care about your mother putting your well-being aside. Don’t you think that is worth enough?”
Arthur shut his eyes, his head to the left, lighting a cigarette while the bouncing knee betrayed his feeling of unsettlement. Harleen noticed it. Wind took words away. Actions prevailed in time.
Time! That’s precisely what he needed. Both battled uneasiness in their own, unique way. While Harleen on her own end of the couch thought on a way to help him, Arthur tried to give order to his convulsed mind. He constantly touched his forehead and chest but never dared to eye her, terrified that she would vanish. The damn cigarette placed again on his lips. The muteness grew so uncomfortable the loner returned to glare at the blonde. She slowly approached to him, searching in his face his approval to get closer. Afraid to disturb his personal space in the same way someone would be cautious when getting closer to a wild animal. Arthur gasped, his blood boiling in what seemed the exact moment that would define his life. Harleen crawled to him, reaching his shoulders to concrete her goal: sit in the space between his legs.
If Arthur believed that just a hug put him on fire, this new contact aroused him to the point of insanity. The blonde crowned the physical bond placing her head in the crook of his neck. The temptation to take her and possess her now was insufferable but he found the will to not give in into the impulsive reaction. How? He’d never know. His heart rate was so violent, so overwhelming that the threat of a heart attack was becoming more real. Harleen placed her hand on his chest, like caressing his damaged heart like a mother would do with an scared child. His lungs finally caught a calmer rhythm as minutes went by. Arthur craved new touches, new discoveries, yet he wanted to remain like this forever. He savoured the closeness of their bodies… but it wasn’t enough. Harleen surely knew it by the moment Arthur stopped smoking.
And whenever Arthur Fleck stopped smoking, it meant something serious got his attention.
As the last fire on the cigarette died on the ashtray, Arthur turned his focus completely on her. He’d return her the favour, since she invaded his personal space so shamelessly. Harleen distanced a bit from him to allow the hoodie to come off. She approved the sight with a wide smirk: despite what people could say about his figure, Arthur was not as thin as his outfit revealed. His bare upper body had a plenty of muscle in the biceps. She traced a finger across the aforementioned part to touch his jawline now, going down his neck and collarbone. Next, a nuzzle against his face to continue the intimate bond, brushing her lips with his, without kissing him. However there was no further reaction from him except for a serene look on his face at the caresses. As the touch came to an end, she kissed his mouth repeatedly, her lips curved into a smile. The gesture motivated his instinct to get the better of him. He rose his dark, thick eyebrow to let her know how much of an accomplice he turned out to be, like a warning of what he had planned for her.
It was almost a ritual. Whenever a situation turned out to be too unfamiliar or too good, his hands would act as the link to confirm his psyche wasn't playing tricks with him. But this wasn't only a situation. This was a person who unchained a situation. And how he thanked every second of it. It seemed a spark of happiness enlightened his life, for once. Probably because even fate believed that no human being should be so miserable. He needed a constant reaction from her to keep convincing himself this wasn’t a dream. To increase the enjoyment of his hands touching her, Arthur executed a move directed to her chest, gliding his hands over her breasts, covered by the thin fabric of the sleeveless shirt. Harleen gasped, eyeing the curious hands as they roamed upon that delicate part of her. Arthur was fascinated, as his grin evidently brought out.
Since he had understanding about sex, Arthur craved a woman’s touch. It began as wet dreams, continuing with the subsequent discover of porn, a source he always went to in order to provide himself a little satisfaction. He remembered the particularly unhappy time of highschool, where bullying and harsh looks were a routine. The laughing fits during class, boys from all ages mocking at him during recess. But lunchtime was the worst part. If he wasn’t beaten up, his food paid the price. Starving and tired, Arthur was relieved in part by dropping school. He wouldn’t have to deal with the brutality of his classmates anymore. Girls usually avoided him, scared by his weak appearance. He never asked a girl for a date, afraid to be taken as a pervert. He just repressed any sexual need, feeling like a depraved creep for being curious about female body.
The mental drift continued for a couple of minutes when he noticed that Harleen wasn’t too quiet now, her shortened breath revealing an intense joy at his touch. As it happened always in a moment of adrenaline, through his arms an herculean strength ran so intensely that made her sit on his lap with no problem. The most exciting part of this new bold position was that he could face his lover, aiming his interest to her neck, covering it with slow, paused kisses. Harleen supports on his shoulders, delighted at his intimate exploration. Her shortened breath became a heavy panting while the latter morphed into a loud moan. Arthur immediately looked up to the blonde, her mane tickling his face. Did he caused such wonderful reaction? Him? Arthur Fleck, the perpetual loser, the unfunny clown, the embodiment of what a man should never be?
Suddenly, the grip loosened. Arthur felt he couldn’t concentrate anymore on Harleen in the same way. A sensation similar to fainting snatched away the energy on his arms. A surge of boiling blood flowed down his groin.
Arthur knew what this meant and her thighs straddling his hips, exactly where his searing intimacy reacted to such delectable recreation.
This encouraged him to let his wildest side come out. The pale hands lifted the shirt to the level of her neck, obtaining her bare chest to devour while getting into the inner part of the shirt, leaving the barrier between skin and fabric behind his back. Harleen reared up before the fulminant demonstration of lust, screaming while clawing at his shoulders. She felt his mouth, eager and famished, assiduously paying dedication to her soft sinuosities. The position enabled her to coddle him as well.
Because he fucking deserved it.
Her fingers stirred the dark curls under the cloth, begging for more. When Arthur felt the arousal was too much to keep building it up to simple caresses, he threw the shirt aside to obtain her upper nude body to admire. His eyes widened as the glimpse was even more beautiful in reality than in his fantasies. He hummed, approving the sight, too anxious to take her and yet so insecure if she’d be satisfied.
The blonde tugged into his belt, making clear her desire to pursue a deeper insight of their relationship. Her body performed a subtle movement to make him lay down on his back. As Arthur got rid of his clothes, so she did. Once she reached her own full nudity, he covered his mouth, amazed. Forget the models in his journal. Harleen had no comparison. And she probably knew it.
“Do you like what you see, mister Fleck?” she purred, seductive. He panted, regaining the oxygen to answer.
“Yes” was all he answered. Arthur could hardly speak at this point. His eyes said everything, anyway. The tease was a gift before the beloved blonde climbed atop him. Arthur helped her, grabbing her by the hips he longed so much to trace his fingers on.
Harleen leaned over his face to grant it a last kiss, enjoying this final step preceding to the loss of individuality.
She seemed so unreal, even when her full weight upon him proved wrong. And he knew exactly what to do to prove his psyche otherwise.
The last trace of doubt disappeared completely as his own sex found itself inside of her at last. The insertion was very slow, no rushes, so both lovers could memorize every sensation. The pressure around his hardened length turned out to be a pleasure beyond the thinkable, causing a shuddering, fastened breath to crumple his lungs. He arched his back, a loud, pleasurable moan escaping his mouth. As he got used to the warm welcome she gave him, his hands held her hips to proceed. Harleen lolled her head back, moaning softly, rejoicing at his presence inside of her delicate womanhood. Stillness held their bodies together as they enjoyed the sensation brought by the union.
Arthur recovered from the initial shock before the long desired loss of his hated celibacy started to take place. Harleen, naked much to the delight of his eyes, had her white, porcelain skin beautifully shaded by the pink and blue dim neon lights. Arthur smirked at her, admiring her body with his hands, not to convince himself that he was not hallucinating but to make sure to tell her how much he had desired to do this.
Just then Harleen did her magic.
“Let me show you that you’re not invisible”.
The rhythm worked in a slow pace. The blonde’s masterful moves made him moan and groan loudly as she straddled his hips. Everything he imagined with her appalled in comparison to this. Harleen, so provocative and prodigious, was so delicate in this erotic surrender. Like almost floating in the air. Arthur wondered how much it could take until reaching the peak of the carnal pleasure. But the obnoxious thud that beat his brain even in this moment found itself defeated by this lovely and pleasurable novelty, eventually. Watching Harleen on top of him was an irresistible landscape and Arthur couldn’t be more grateful for it even if he tried.
And her moans didn’t help either. Harleen was too lost in the moment to even talk to him, restricting her vocal expressions of pleasure just to plead for more.
Arthur plunged in this novelty to feel like a man for the first time in his life. He chuckled, joyful. His concentration centered exclusively on her. Harleen was a living mess of ecstasy, away from reality. He couldn’t love her more, specially when she called his name. The grip on her hips became tighter, as the warm space that surrounded his arousal narrowed. Her moans arose to louder screams. Now that was something he wanted to hear, sliding his fingers up to her waist to her chest.
The sense of control began to disappear eventually.
The instigation inspired a new move from Arthur, who got up to enclose her waist to absorb her essence. Fastening the moves, the blonde threw her arms to his neck, increasing the union as much as they were able. Their screams echoed through the apartment, announcing the proximity of the climax.
The final frenzy took ahold of the lovers. It hit Harleen first, as the convulsion whipped her insides, her figure trembling.
Arthur was convinced his soul was living his body at the time of his climax. While Harleen allowed him to flood her with his seed, he held her hips to keep inside her the longest time possible. The passionate, fulfilling embrace that served as the conclusion to the act recomposed their sense of reality. Once the physical bond was broken, the lovers laid back in the couch. Arthur still had a hard time recovering from his first sexual experience. His lungs finally eased down as Harleen reassuringly talked to him. Arthur opened his eyes, to smile to her.
“That…” he stuttered, breathless, “that… was… fucking sensational”.
Harleen supported her head in her hand.
“Couldn’t agree more”.
Arthur smiled and didn’t resist the temptation to sink into her arms, awaiting for sleep to come. He gave himself in completely, handing his vulnerability to her. Harleen sighed, palming his back. Arthur recoiled in pain and she didn’t hesitate to apologize.
“What’s this?” Harleen was going to get up to check him out but he prevented it, shaking his head. Apparently it didn’t have too much importance for him.
“I want this” his whisper sounded legitimately grateful. He took her hands to kiss them dearly, “I want this”.
She nodded and then changed her position so Arthur could place himself upon her. Her open arms received his fragile, starving shape to grant it comfort, like remind him of how much of a man he could be. The loner muttered something, but Harleen was already sleeping. Arthur didn’t move at all, silently enjoying her chest moving up and down. He planted a kiss above her right breast and closed his eyes.
The rain intensified. And Arthur fell asleep in a state of complete inner peace for the first time in his life as the pink lights dissipated into black as his eyes slowly closed.
It was the most beautiful darkness he’d ever been in.
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mikrowrites · 5 years
Text
Stargirl { part i }
Poe Dameron x Reader
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Summary: Y/N spent her entire life hiding her past, but as the Republic falls and the Resistance makes their final stand, some things can’t stay buried.
Y/N always loved the nighttime. The cool air, the glimmering stars dotting the sky, but most importantly the quiet. The uninterrupted silence as her classmates and masters slept.
She had found herself walking around the training campus as she enjoyed the nighttime, her boots crunching against the pebbles and grass while she pulled her cloak closer around her body. Y/N had been advancing quickly in her training, her eagerness to become a Jedi far outweighed her anxieties.
As she traveled back to her hut she sensed a disturbance, making her stop in her tracks and her eyebrows furrow. Y/N held her hand out, feeling the force move uncertainly and wildly. She set forth and followed it, looking up to see Ben’s hut with a green light emmiting from the windows.
Y/N opened the door, her body going rigid as she gasped. Her master held his lightsaber over a sleeping Ben, poised to strike. Luke turned to Y/N with tears in his eyes before turning back to Ben, whom had sat up in bed.
She reached for Luke’s wrist as Ben grabbed his lightsaber, clashing it against the green saber. Y/N shouted out as the blue light cut into her wrist, the girl attempting to pull Luke off of the boy as Ben brought the hut down.
Dust and rock filled her throat as Y/N screamed, the rubble burying her and carrying away her consciousness.
She awoke to screams, the crackling of fire, and the overwhelming smell of smoke. Y/N sat up, her eyes widening at the sight of the temple ablaze. Her friends, being slaughtered.
And then she turned and saw Luke.
And Luke saw her.
And Y/N cowered in fear of him.
Y/N gasped, her eyes flicking open. She was drenched in a cold sweat, her breathing uneven. A strong arm wrapped itself tighter around her torso, a bare sculpted chest against her back. She felt Poe’s gentle breath against her ear as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “Babe?”
“I’m okay.” Y/N whispered, turning to face Poe with a gentle smile. “Sorry to wake you.”
Poe pulled Y/N into his chest, breathing in the scent of her hair and relishing in the feeling of her body within his arms.
“I love you, flyboy.” Y/N murmured.
Poe smiled. “I love you, stargirl.”
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
“Poe, fucking disengage now.” Y/N snarled into the communicator.
“Sorry sweetheart but we’re so close. We can take out a Dreadnaught. We can do it.” Poe shouted back, revving his Starfighter.
Y/N smacked the control panel. “You can’t if you’re dead!”
She heaved through a tight throat, hearing static on the other end. Y/N let out a scoff, turning to Leia.
“Did he just turn me off?”
Later, Poe sauntered into the bridge, a cocky grin on his face. It widened at the sight of his girlfriend, who stood next to Leia. Y/N began to walk toward Poe, the man speeding up to her.
Suddenly Y/N brought her palm across his face, the sound of the slap echoing throughout the bridge. Poe stumbled back, holding his cheek in confusion and slight rage. “Y/N, wha-“
“You’re demoted.” Leia growled.
“What?! We took down a Dreadnaught!” Poe exclaimed incredulously, his eyes flickering between the two women.
“At what cost?” Leia exclaimed.
Poe shook his head. “You start an attack, you follow through.”
“Poe, get your head out of your cockpit.” Y/N spat, shaking her head angrily. “There are things that you cannot solve by jumping in an X-Wing and blowing something up!”
Leia stood between the two, trying to extinguish the tension. “Listen to your girlfriend. We both need you to learn that.” She began to walk away, Poe stopping her.
“There were heroes on that mission.” Poe stated.
“Dead heroes.” Leia retorted. “No leaders.”
She finally walked away, Poe rolling his eyes and turning to Y/N who had turned and was working a command station. He walked over to her, running his hands down her arms. “I’m sorry baby.”
“Are you?” Y/N turned to Poe, a stoic expression on her face. “I really don’t think you are.”
“I’m just trying to do my job.” Poe murmured, turning her to face him. “We’re all trying to do our jobs.”
Y/N sighed, finally giving in and resting her forehead against his chest, Poe running his fingers in soothing circles around her back. “I know. I do, Poe. But every time you do your job you risk your life more than necessary. You’re flamboyant. And one of these days it’s going to get you killed.”
Poe sighed, grasping Y/N’s shoulders and smiling at her. “I’m not dyin’ on you, Stargirl.”
Y/N smiled, the two pulling apart. They turned to look out the viewing shield, his arm around her shoulders. They stared out at the stars until alarms began to blare into the bridge.
Poe and Y/N ran towards Leia, the pilot grasping his helmet. A tech specialist analyzed the screen. “Proximity alert! They found us!”
“That’s impossible.” Poe breathed.
Y/N watched as the First Order fleet reappeared out of light speed, outnumbering the Raddus.
A large ship suddenly appeared. “That’s Snoke’s ship...” Finn said defeatedly.
“You gotta be kidding me.” Poe groaned, turning around. “Can we jump to light speed?”
“We have enough fuel sources for just one jump.” Y/N observed.
Poe looked up at her. “Well, then, do it. We have to get out of here.”
“Wait,” Leia paused. “They’ve tracked us through light speed.”
“That’s impossible.” Finn stated.
Leia nodded. “Yes. And they’ve done it.”
“They’ve got us...” Y/N whispered.
Poe turned to her, squeezing her hand and lifting it up. He pressed a kiss to Y/N’s knuckles. “Not yet, they don’t.” He smiled at Y/N. “Permission to jump into an X-Wing and blow something up?”
Y/N gestured to Leia, who immediately nodded. “Permission granted.”
With a wink Poe ran out of the bridge, BB-8 following. After a split second Y/N shook her head, running after him. She didn’t know what caused her to. Maybe the force was guiding her away from the bridge. They were sprinting down the hall, BB-8 frantically beeping. “Don’t wait for me! Jump in and fire her up!” Poe shouted.
Poe ran into the hangar, Y/N skidding to a stop in the hallway. She closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer for her lover until she felt her whole body freeze. Y/N felt the force humming in her ear. She tried to block it away but it persisted, taking over her senses with a familiar person.
Y/N’s eyes flung open, her lips uttering the name of a man she loathed with all her being: “Ben.”
Suddenly a large explosion was set off into the hanger, Poe stopping in his tracks in front of his X-Wing. Y/N gasped and screamed his name, running forwards as his ship burst into flame.
The explosion sent them both flying, the two falling back into the hallway. Poe slowly sat up, taking in the sight of his beloved ship burning before the emergency doors slid closed. He quickly turned to Y/N, who was pulling her hand up to her forehead. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”
“I-I don’t know, I just followed you here...” she hissed in pain, Poe running his fingers over the gash on her forehead.
“Poe, Y/N, are you alright?” Finn ran over, sliding to his knees.
Poe nodded. “We need to get out of range of those Star Destroyers.” he grunted.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Poe and Y/N sat among the remaining Resistance captains and commanders. Poe interlaced his fingers with hers, Y/N rubbing his arm with her other hand and leaning her head on his shoulder. A bandage was placed on her gash, which had been stitched up prior.
“General Organa... Leia... is unconscious but recovering.” Leia’s second in command informed. “That’s the only good news I have. Admiral Ackbar, all our leadership, they’re gone.” Y/N buried her face in Poe’s shoulder, thinking of her friends whose lives had been taken away. She should have been among them, but she followed Poe...
“Leia was the sole survivor on the bridge, as well as Lieutenant L/N who was in the hangar.” The second in command continued, Poe gripping Y/N’s hand tighter. “If General Organa were here, she’d say save your sorrow for after the fight. To that end... the chain of command is clear as to who should take her place.”
Y/N felt Poe straighten up beside her, but the girl kept her mouth shut because she already knew the new General would be—
“Vice Admiral Holdo.”
Poe deflated in his seat. Y/N continued to rub his arm reassuredly as Holdo began to speak. Y/N strained a smile to cast up at him. “It’s okay, Poe. Leia has a plan.”
Poe shook his head as the meeting was dismissed, members of the Resistance returning to their posts. “That’s Admiral Holdo? Battle of Chyron Belt Admiral Holdo?”
Y/N nodded, standing up with her hand still locked in Poe’s pulling him up. He scoffed. “Not what I expected.”
Poe pulled away from Y/N strutting over to confront Holdo. Y/N turned and left the room, making her way to the sickbay.
The door to Leia’s room slid open, Y/N walking in and sitting next to her mentor. “I felt it for the first time in years. The force. I’ve tried so hard to block it away, but Ben... he was there. I felt him.” Y/N fiddled with her hands. “He’s beyond saving Leia. I hope you realize that. He’s not who he once was, that’s not my childhood friend. That’s a monster. He’s a monster in the disguise of a boy. And we cannot save him.”
Hours later the door opened, Y/N rubbing her red eyes and turning to see Poe in the doorway. “Hey baby.”
Poe smiled, walking over and sitting down next to her, pulling her into his chest. They were silent for a few minutes, holding each other. Y/N rested her ear against Poe chest, finding comfort in his heartbeat. After a bit Poe spoke up.
“You’re always telling me how you’re afraid to lose me. I always thought I got it. Understood. But I didn’t. I pull stunts and tricks in a ship while you work in the safety of a fortified base. But I didn’t understand how you felt every time I went out in a mission. I pretended to.”
Y/N pulled away slightly, looking up at him in confusion only to by sobered by the tears in his eyes. Y/N rested her hands on each side of Poe’s face, her lover leaning in to her touch with a sigh. He kissed her palm before continuing.
“But, I did today. I did. You could’ve died today. You would’ve been safe in the bridge, I thought, but you would’ve died. And that scared me. Because I can’t live without you.” Poe finished.
Y/N leaned her forehead against his, silent tears rolling down her cheeks as she ran her fingers through his dark curls.
Suddenly the door burst open, the two pulling apart to see Finn and an engineer standing in the doorway. Y/N and Poe hastily wiped their faces, turning to the two.
“Uh—sorry if we’re interrupting anything—“
“No, no!” Poe and Y/N unanimously agreed. “What’s going on? What’s happening?”
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
“Just give it to me one more time, simpler.” Poe asked.
“So the First Order’s only tracking us from one Destroyer, the lead one.” Finn explained.
“So we blow that one up.” Poe interrupted, Y/N turning and smacking him on the arm. “What?”
Finn shook his head. “I like where your head’s at, but no. They’d only start tracking us from another Destroyer. If we sneak on board the lead Destroyer and disable the tracker without them realizing...”
“They won’t realize it’s off for one system cycle.” The engineer, Rose, finished. “About six minutes.” She enables a hologram of the ship.
“Sneak on board, disable the tracker. Our fleet escapes before they realize.” Finn informed, standing back as he gauged the two’s reaction.
Poe and Y/N exchanged a glance. She stood up and walked towards Leia, Poe turning to them. “How’d you two meet?”
“Just luck.” Rose replied smugly.
“Yeah? Good luck?” Y/N murmured, the three turning towards her.
“Not sure yet.”
Finn stepped forwards. “Poe, Y/N we have to do this. It’ll save the fleet and it’ll save Rey.”
Y/N placed her hand upon Leia’s Poe walking over and reassuringly rubbed his hand on Y/N’s shoulder blade.
“If I must be the sole voice of reason, Admiral Holdo would never agree to this plan.” C-3PO finally spoke up from across the room. He had entered shortly after Rose and Finn.
Y/N smirked ever so slightly, reaching up and squeezing Poe’s hand. “Yeah. You’re right, Threepio.”
Poe sighed, Finn and Rose turning away. Y/N turned towards the group, her face stoic. “It’s a need-to-know plan... and she doesn’t.”
C-3PO began to stutter, Poe winking at Y/N as he walked over to Finn and Rose. “All right, you guys shut down that tracker, we’ll be here to jump us to light speed. The question is, how do we sneak the two of you onto Snoke’s Destroyer?”
The three began to make a plan as Y/N turned to Leia. “Don’t hate me for this. And certainly not Poe either.” Y/N lifted Leia’s hand and kissed it gently. “They can do it. I know they can. You know it too.”
Y/N turned to Poe, exchanging a soft smile.
“I searched the force for it to be true.” She turned back to Leia, her smile faltering.
“And maybe it’s about time he knew the truth too.”
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
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devnicolee · 4 years
Text
Assurance and Appreciation
A/N: Struggling with writer’s block on Chapter 9 so this is what came about instead. Sort of a sequel to A Seat on the Throne because Zarah isn’t the only one who needs some additional assurances and support every once in a while.  
Warning: Smut, NSFW (and my first time writing a blowjob which was really hard and it probably shows haha sorry in advance!) 
Masterlist
Word Count: 3,257
"I don’t understand what your hesitation is," Zarah called as she turned off their waterfall shower and started wringing her twists out in an old t-shirt. "Shuri and T’Challa are just trying to help. You decided to rejoin Wakanda, yes? This is what joining Wakanda means. You cannot have both collaboration and isolation. Are you regretting your decision or something?" She stepped out of their shower, smiling at him as he started to help her dry off in her soft, plush towels. She could have done it herself but she always appreciated the intimacy of their nighttime ritual, each helping the other prepare for bed. 
However, tonight’s ritual did not include its usual peaceful silence or lighthearted musings about the day’s events. No, tonight’s ritual was marked with discord, debate and confusion over her husband’s ambivalence, a state that clashed with his usual personality. Zarah always appreciated, that even in the infancy of his time as chief, M’Baku always held fast to his decisions. He did not rush into them; taking his time to deliberate thoughtfully, intentionally and prayerfully before committing himself or his people to a course of action. But when he ultimately reached a decision, he stuck with it and saw it through until it became clear a better option was available. Zarah trusted those decisions, would bet her life on them and rarely questioned them because he never gave her a reason to doubt his motives and intentions. 
Today, though, was a complete departure for her usually confident and stubborn king. Today, he was indecisive and unsure. Prior to this morning’s council meeting, her husband agreed to accept kimoyo beads to test among the Jabari and increase the connection between the mountain tribe and Greater Wakanda. Zarah would have even said he was excited about the prospect and opportunity. However, a tense council meeting later, he was straddling a giant fence of indecision, swaying back and forth between moving forward and preparing to tell T’Challa to throw away the plan entirely.
"Regretting, no. I just do not want vibranium to corrupt our people, it is not who we are. It is why our ancestors forged their own path in the first place. You know this, Zarah." 
She maneuvered around her giant-sized husband in their bathroom as she finished her evening skin care routine, noting the agitation in his tone and eyes as he spoke. 
"Yes, and our ancestors also refused to use Jabari wood for anything other than weapons at a time. But times are changing my love. You," she reached over and squeezed his hand that rested on their counter, "know this. I love tradition, I love our traditions. But tradition are just one way of doing things until another way comes along. Neither is better than the other, it is merely different. You are allowed to create new traditions for this tribe. It is not only your right as Chief, it is your duty when you know those traditions people desperately seek to hold onto are limiting our progress."
She strolled out of their bathroom after pulling on a pair of panties and an old sweater to sit on her side of their bed. "And we are not even talking about a lot. Just something small to see how we like it, if it improves our well-being, see how we like connecting to the low landers," she listed, reviewing the proposal she helped craft to him again.
"Kimoyo beads are as low tech as the Panthers can get. She and I spent a lot of time on that proposal before she sent it to you and you agreed," Zarah emphasized pointedly. She worked with Shuri and T’Challa for weeks to determine what type of technology would best suit the Jabari’s beliefs and lifestyle. She was maintaining a calm facade but underneath, tides of frustration and anxiety at her husband’s indecision were rising. While she knew all of his doubts were focused on the Panthers, in questioning his support to their plan, he was also questioning her judgement and counsel.
She pulled her shea butter out of her nightstand and lathered her legs as she spoke. As she continued, M’Baku was no longer listening. He was completely entranced by the thickness of her thighs and the softness and glow of her skin. 
She coughed loudly, breaking him out of his trance. "Are you listening to me husband?" 
He laughed loudly, "Apologies little one, you just look beautiful tonight." He winked at her, the desire that always sparkled behind his mocha eyes now a full inferno.
She smiled and rolled her eyes, "According to you, I look beautiful every night so flattery will not get you out of this conversation," she joking chastised him. "But thank you. You are free to ravish me after we finish this discussion."
He let out a disgruntled bark, causing her to shake her head and laugh at his antics. Accepting defeat of his plan to trade this conversation for a symphony of her moans and screams, he walked over to her.
"Even if you do not trust the Panthers and I do not understand why you wouldn’t at this point… y-you should at least trust your chieftess. I would never lead our people astray," she mumbled as he sat down next to her. 
"It is not that I do not trust your counsel or the Panthers. You know that is not it, you are a genius and I know you would not have proposed it without intense deliberation. I am just not sure it is the right course of action for our people."
"You trust T’Challa to share this country’s resources with the world yes? You trust that he is right when he believes our resources will benefit others’ lives?" She intertwined her fingers with his and stroked his exposed bicep as they sat. 
"Yes, it is his right as king." 
"But you don’t trust him enough to know that for us? To benefit the lives of actual Wakandans? We have isolated ourselves for too long, so much so that even in our new partnership, we are continuing to choose isolation. We are still not truly willing to dive in and try. I say it all the time: we are both Wakandans and Jabari… There is room for both. There must be or we are lost. T’Challa is flawed yes. But he has a pure heart, just as you do. He wants to work with us, he is excited to work with us and find ways to be more inclusive of our needs. If he believes this is the correct course, we can at least meet him halfway. And if we do not like it, we turn back and work together to forge a different one." She kissed the side of his head and scouted further up the bed to get situated to sleep. "Besides, we do not have to give him an answer tonight. Just sleep and pray on it and decide with a fresh perspective tomorrow."
She could not see the small nod he gave before he stood and walked over to his side to join her, climbing in bed and draping a heavy arm across her waist. Under the sheets, his hand gripped and kneaded her exposed thigh over and over again. Usually, it would have Zarah flipping onto her back and begging for more but even she could tell his movements were void of sexual tension or motives. This was merely the physical representation of his restlessness, his anxiety - two things that were rare in his usual powerful and assured personality. She soon realized he had no intention of sleeping, not with their conversation still tumbling through his overactive mind. 
Zarah shifted to her back, his hand never leaving her thigh, recognizing in his eyes that there was indeed more to the story than he let on. 
"Husband…" 
"Hmm?"
"What is this really about? You are not this worked up over technology as simple and inconsequential as kimoyo beads. What is really wrong?" 
"Your father and Elder Asante. After the council meeting, they said I was destroying the Jabari." 
Zarah rolled her eyes and shifted to sit up. She finally understood. She was not debating her husband, she was debating the Council. She was arguing with her father and the other elders who planted seeds of doubt in her husband every time the Panthers were mentioned; the elders who guilted and shamed him for breaking traditions and building his own vision for the tribe. 
She gestured for M’Baku to sit on his side of the bed. Zarah loved any excuse to climb into his lap and over time, all difficult or intimate conversations in their relationship were done in that position. 
She swung her leg across his hips and rested on top of him. She held his head in her hands, his beard tickling the palms of her hands. "You have been telling me to ignore my parents and their opinions for years."
"But you do not," he shot back, rubbing patterns into her thigh. 
"Yes, because I actually do care about their opinions. You have never cared about what the Council thought of you. Why does their opinion bother you so today?"
"Because what if I am?" 
"What if you are what?"
"Destroying the Jabari? Half of the Council has hated me since I rejoined. I have not been able to do anything right since. They second guess and question every decision I have made regarding the Panthers. Maybe I did make the wrong decision? Maybe I am overcomplicating our people’s lives… changing too much. I thought I was bringing people together, but it seems I have just caused too much division."
"You could be destroying the Jabari. I certainly do not think you are, and I do not think you truly believe that either. I see the pressure you are under, the pressure you put on yourself. Chief is a great responsibility and the weight of all of it falls squarely on you. I have my days of doubt as chieftess so I can only imagine how those moments feel as chief. But do you know what I do when I have those moments?" she asked. 
"Hmm?" 
"I remember what a handsome chieftain told me one day in our throne room when I worried that I would too destroy our people and embarrass him as chieftess." 
M’Baku chuckled, the memory of that day floating to the top of his mind. "What did this handsome chieftain tell you eh?" 
"He told me to hold tight to him because moments of doubt were part of the job. How you see the light at the end of those tunnels is by leaning on this," she gestured between them, "Leaning on each other for support and counsel."
She held his head firmly in her hands. "And he asked me to remember what I told him the day he became chief. He spoke of how he did not believe me on his Challenge Day. But I meant it that day all those years ago and have believed it every day since. History will look down on you as one of our greatest chiefs. One that took risks and brought his people into a new light, redirected our energy to a purpose beyond ourselves. My father will never like the decisions you make and so may be the case for the entire Council. But you have the purest heart of them all. As long as you are guided by that, you should not doubt your choices. You and your decisions are guided by Hanuman and he chose you. That is all you need."
"And you? You think I am doing the right thing?"
"Yes, I have never been afraid to tell you when I disagree. But I do not. While your intentions remain as pure as your heart, I will follow your lead through fire, rain or snow. You asked for this tribe to trust you, to follow you. We chose to do so because you have earned it. You proved yourself worthy of the title, the responsibility, and the respect long ago. And you have not let us down since. Do not let my father or anyone else have you questioning yourself. Understand?"
"Yes. Thank you," he pulled her in to kiss her deeply. "I will let T’Challa and Shuri know we want to test the beads. No more changing this decision. This is the answer. This is the path. It will be good for all of us." 
"I think so too," she whispered, kissing his neck. Her hands journeyed up his bare chest to his shoulders. "You know what else I think?" 
"Hmm" he hummed as he enjoyed her ministrations, noticing the slight grind in her hips against his manhood. 
"I think our chief could relax. You have been so busy, running yourself ragged worried about this tribe and our people. I have not done enough to show you how appreciated you are," she said in a sultry tone. Her hands made quick work of pulling her sweater over her head, breasts free and exposed for her husband. Her kisses ventured further south, down his chest as she got off his lap to rest on her knees beside him. 
"I cannot show you how much I appreciate you with all these clothes on my love," she whispered, prompting him to shed his clothes on his lower half and free his hardening length from its cage. 
Zarah’s mouth watered slightly at the sight. While M’Baku typically spent a great deal of time worshipping her body during sex, it was certainly reciprocated. Zarah found immense pleasure in both receiving and giving. And so she poured her being into pleasuring M’Baku as he did with her always. Her small hand wrapped around him, pumping him slightly as she looked at him. "Can I take care of you my king?" 
He simply nodded, words failing him at the sight of his queen, bare and on her knees for him. 
Zarah took half of him into her mouth, rolling her tongue over his tip and tasting his pre-cum, her hand pumping the base of him. She moaned into his cock, savoring the taste of him, the vibrations causing a small moan to escape his lips. 
Zarah released him from her mouth with a soft pop, her spit leaving strings between her lips and his manhood. She used her hand to spread the wetness around his member before she took him into her mouth again. 
After a few minutes of massaging and teasing the sensitive spots she knew elicited the greatest response from the love of her life, she took a deep breath before taking him as far as she could into her throat. She breathed through her nose as she tried to accommodate him. Her eyes watered and she struggled to breathe as he hit the back of her throat but then she heard him, his moans and breathless outpourings of praise.
"Za… fuck. You take me so well," he breathed. His hand found its way to her panties, sliding them to the side so his fingers could find her love bud. He knew her body like a musician knows their instrument, understanding the right amount of pressure and strokes needed to alleviate this experience for both of them: to give him the melody of her moans and groans that he had been craving to hear all day and provide her with a reward for her efforts. He was not shocked to find her already gushing, knowing that pleasuring him turned her on endlessly, and knew she would be aching to be touched. 
"You were made for me, usana," M’Baku moaned as he rubbed circles on her clit with his thumb while a skilled finger started pumping into her. 
"M’Ba - fuck, that feels good," she panted, his manhood falling from the warmth of her mouth as she reacted to the surprise of his fingers entering her. 
She enveloped him again, setting a steady rhythm to help him reach his climax as she bobbed up and down on his dick. She worked as fast as she could, desiring nothing more than to feel him release into the back of her throat, feel the tension and frustration leave his body. 
He was in a state of bliss as she made a mess on his lap, taking him as deep as her body would allow. The vibrations from her moans caused his hips to buck into her lips over and over, his free hand tangled in her twists. 
"Fuck… just like that. I’m almost there Za," he moaned. She felt him twitch and after a few short pumps, he released down her throat. All the while, his steady work to bring her equal pleasure never faltered, his fingers continued doing the work of Hanuman to bring her the euphoria of her orgasm. 
She swallowed and released his member from her mouth in time to let out a string of cries and curse words as he applied more pressure to her sensitive bud and her own orgasm reached its peak. 
She cried out as her body shook with the weight of her orgasm, his fingers continuing their mission through her release. She barely had time to recover and catch her breath from such an intense session before he grabbed her and pulled her in for a deep, rough kiss. His hands explored her thick backside, gripping and squeezing her ass. 
"Suck," he demanded, presenting his fingers, coated in her nectar to her lips. She took no time to oblige, willing to do any and everything he asked of her. She let his hand fall from her mouth after sucking his fingers clean and kissed him again. She tossed him a playful smile before starting to slide off the bed to get a warm towel and clean them both up. 
A rough hand pulled her back as she started to walk toward the bathroom. 
"Where do you think you are going little one? I am not done with you yet." 
She smiled up at him, "You can never get enough, can you?" From the animalistic look in his eyes, Zarah knew all those early meetings and plans she had for tomorrow would need to be rescheduled for another day. When he looked at her like this, she was lucky if she could physically get out of bed the next morning.
"Of you? Never."
She nodded, climbing back on the bed, "How do you want me, my king? Tonight is all about you." 
He did not need time to contemplate, the answer on the tip of his tongue before she finished the sentence. "On all fours how I like it," he commanded. 
Her king had spoken and she would do as he commanded. She moved quickly, rolling over to her stomach and assuming the position and deep arch he adored: ass up, face and chest pressed into their bed. 
She gasped and turned her face deeper into the bed, clutching the sheets as he pushed into her without warning. She would never get used to the feeling, the high she got from his dick stretching her to capacity as he entered her. He was her drug and she was an addict, willing to risk it all to get her fix over and over again. She moaned and begged for more as his hips started a relentless pace, pounding into her from behind. Her eyes fluttered closed from the pleasure he provided as the clock struck midnight. 
The night may have been ending for everyone else. But for M’Baku and Zarah? They had rounds to go before they slept. 
****
Tags: @destinio1 @muse-of-mbaku @jellybean531 @dawva @afrolatinpami
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stcrr · 4 years
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elle fanning. cis female. she/her.  /  lorelei “lorrie” gunther just pulled up blasting which witch by florence + the machine  — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty-three year old musician, i’ve heard they’re really -reclusive, but that they make up for it by being so +observant. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say chipped glitter nail polish, a silver gilt mirror, losing yourself in the beat of the music. here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( ally, 22, est, she/her )
me: i don’t have a type when it comes to muses! also me: unveils this new muse that is also introverted and anxious but this time with more glitter. anyways, meet lorelei, starr to her fans, and lorrie to her friends, an observant girl, gifted mimic, misfit, mirror, and musician. kind of a jem and the holograms/hannah montana/perfect blue hybrid. details under the cut, like for me to hyu to plot !! 
(also her pinterest im really proud of it you guys)
statistics.
full name. lorelei amelia gunther. nicknames. lorrie. aliases. starr. occupation. singer-songwriter. age. twenty-three. date of birth. february 1st, 1997.  nationality. american. ethnicity. white (austrian and irish).  gender | orientation. cis female | queer. hometown. boston, ma. zodiac sign. aquarius sun, scorpio moon, pisces rising career/voice claim. lorde.
height. 5′9 weight. 120lbs build. willowy.  distinguishing features. wide eyes, full lips, constant bags, probably has glitter in her hair.  health. 7/10; has no major illnesses but eats like shit, has a whack sleep schedule, is a dysfunctional adult basically. she’s also big depressed but you know how it be. 
positive traits. ambitious, intuitive, observant, imaginative, independent,  neutral traits. talkative, intense, impressionable,  negative traits. anxious, avoidant, moody, secretive, resentful, aloof, 
likes. the nighttime, storms, baggy clothes, mountains, weed, lsd, books, blanket forts, lying on the floor, singing, cryptids, cemeteries,  dislikes. being herself, deadlines, dolls/puppets, the paparazzi, social media, planning ahead, the outdoors, conflict, the beach, 
history. 
(tw suicide mention, anxiety attack) (tldr at the bottom)
her mother called her lorelei after the sirens of the rhine; she insisted her first cries were the sweetest song. and lorelei continued to have a beautiful voice; she sang more than she spoke. but only at home. 
she never responded to lorelei, though, not really; it felt too grand for her. she was a chicken-legged girl who liked overalls and goosebumps books. she was just lorrie.
she grew up in a lower-middle class region of boston, ma. her father was a salesman, and her mother was a travel agent. 
for a while, at school, she didn’t speak at all. she was diagnosed with selective mutism at age five, and it took until she was thirteen to overcome it completely. 
this was not at all helped by the fact that her parents had a nasty divorce when she was seven years old. her father used her mother’s ten-year-old suicide attempt against her in court to prove she wasn’t stable, and gained full custody of lorelei and her two older brothers. her oldest brother, matthias, sided with their father, but the middle brother, jeremias, sided with their mom, and tried to run away to his mother’s house basically every month. he ran away for good when he was fifteen, living with his girlfriend’s family. 
what helped her overcome this selective mutism, at least at first, was her middle school drama class. at home, lorelei had always been an excellent mimic. she did her favorite impressions for her drama teacher, and she encouraged her to try some monologues and scenes. as she got better at acting, she realized that she didn’t have to be herself; she could be somebody else. and that made talking all the easier. 
by high school, she was no longer selectively mute, but was still anxious and shy. she was, however, a total drama kid, and still loved to act. she could be outrageous, incredible on stage; she wasn’t being herself, after all, so if people were judging her, it was the character they were judging, not her. 
still she was def the kind of girl who had a mental breakdown every four months and dyed/cut her hair/gave herself bangs. she could never quite shake the feeling that she was an outsider looking in, separated, different. 
she still loved music, and as she grew older, she started to write songs. it was her secret dream to be a musician. one of her theater friends talked her into singing one of them when she was sixteen, and then encouraged her to try out for the talent show. she was able to get through the audition, though she was a little nervous, but she knew it would be fine. she was on stage all the time, this would be fine. 
but this time, she had to be herself in front of the entire school, and she froze up, not a sound leaving her lips. she doesn’t remember leaving the stage; only remembers that suddenly, she was in the girls bathroom, sobbing her eyes out. 
her friends comforted her that night, partying in their basement like they always did, but thats when lorrie had an idea. what if she didn’t perform as herself? 
that’s when a starr was born. 
as lorelei dressed herself up in all the holo and glitter she had, she created starr in her head; she was born beloved, charismatic, fearless, this glitz and glamor girl who had it all, but what now? even at the top, she found emptiness. she was a beautiful supernova, so breathtaking you forgot she was really a collapsing star. 
starr was lorrie’s ultimate muse; she wrote song after song for her in the next few months, until, finally, she asked some of her friends to help her record a music video. she didn’t expect this music video to get 60 million views in a matter of weeks. 
royals, of course, blew the fuck up, and she had people calling her house to get her to sign with this record company or that record company, and her eventual producer flew her out to la with her dad. and, of course, the rest is history. (her dad also blew a lot of the money she earned as a minor but she got rid of him and that’s neither here nor there.) 
however, as she got more and more into the la lifestyle, she began to rely more and more on starr as an alter ego. people liked starr, after all, and lorrie didn’t even like herself. she played the part of the dignified, wise, and eccentric former queen during interviews, when recording, at after parties and award shows. 
even her first major relationship she got while acting like starr, someone fearless and fun, basically a manic pixie dream girl. if you’ve ever listened to the album melodrama, then you know how badly that ended. 
that’s around when she realized that starr had taken over her entire life. coming home from a house party absolutely zonked, she looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize herself, didn’t see that nerdy, overall-clad chicken-legged girl from her family pictures. 
she stripped her clothes off, scraped the makeup off her face until her skin was red and dry, dragged a brush through her hair to get rid of all the product, and pulled on a hoodie and leggings she had brought with her to la a year ago. she wrote the first draft of all the songs in melodrama in the coming hours. 
however, she still wrote from starr’s perspective, knew she’d perform it as starr. it may be far more personal, but lorrie wasn’t ready to come out just yet. in fact, she’s kind of been hiding the last year or so, a full-on depression mess. 
tl;dr lower middle class nerdy girl from boston overcomes crippling social anxiety through acting, finesses this into an alter ego to be a musician, hits it big, loses herself in the alter ego, has a disastrous relationship, and tries to become herself again. 
present.
first of all, her real name is Known to the public, but not her “brand” outside of starr. it’s proven to be a boon as of late; she’s known for basically being a walking sailor moon cosplayer, not a skinny woman in baggy jeans and a big black hoodie.
since she’s trying to work on herself, she’s kind of in a creative slump. like, she still has more than enough royalties off her music to keep her going, but her agent and producer are both pushing her to clean up some of her songs and record them for a new album. she can still write as starr, but it feels... different, now. melodrama was far more personal than pure heroine, and she wants to continue to grow; writing as starr feels like reverting back to her sixteen year old self. but she’s too scared to write as herself So....
at events though she’s still in the gauze and stars people expect from starr. 
trying to reach out to her mom and brother jer again. not her dad, fuck her dad. 
loves true crime, the supernatural, and conspiracy thought. is probably watching a true crime doc rn. 
she’s just starting to leave her house for the first time in like... a year? like she’s only started to get out again in the last few months.
as for drugs, she def drinks, but she’s more likely to smoke weed. also, she’s a big fan of lsd, but holds herself off to only tripping every few months.
is considering moving to the woods and being the lonely crone everyone whispers about. or maybe switching to voice acting. 
she fuckin hates dolls. literally her worst nightmare is being trapped in some collectors’ doll rooms.  
wanted connections. 
melodrama ex (0/1) - the ex she wrote her breakup album about. can be any gender. i literally want this connection so bad kfdskjkadsfds
best friend (0/1) - someone who was with her throughout her... Transformation
squad (0/3) - bc who doesn't love a squad. this is the vibe i’m going for (sound warning)
icon (1/1) - someone lorrie looks up to and like... majorly doesn't wanna disappoint. - filled by kami!!!
musician buddies (0/?) - they bounce lyrics off of each other, you know how it is.
rival pop star (0/1) - idk i just think it would be Neat. maybe even with a plot that they had a major falling out and now they have to pretend to get along.
hookups (0/?) - or other messy shit
texting crush (0/1) - really weird concept but like... i imagine lorrie would have the number or snap or insta or whatever of this muse and they get talking after melodrama and she just... lays it all out. they don't really talk in person, but she feels really close to them and definitely develops a crush
weed buddy (0/1) - they come to her house and smoke and complain its great
friend turned enemy (0/1) - maybe someone who adored starr but doesn't like who she is now?????? idk idk
enemy turned friend (0/1) - maybe someone who thought starr was fake af but then meets lorrie being Herself and is just like "oh you're a Human" idk idk
bonus.
as a thank you for making it to the end of this fucking enormous intro, please take a moment to enjoy these tik toks reflective of lorrie’s personality (they’re also???? great on their own) 
lorrie talking/singing to herself alone in her house 
honestly she has tinkerbell vibes
drunk mouths speak sober thoughts
and thats on mental illness
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bastionkeeper · 5 years
Note
Write a short story about the first thing you see out the window!
It’s nighttime so my vision was slightly limited so all I saw was the window lit up next door. Also this isn’t a short story anymore cause I went way off the rails and got super into it and it got away from me and now this is a preview for a story I want to write asdlfkjasd;lfkj hope its good please tell me your thoughts guys is this worth writing more of cause I wanna.
The light in the house next door hadn’t gone off for several days now.
Normally, seeing the lights on in a neighbor’s house was no cause for alarm. In fact, one normally liked to see the neighborhood illuminated on a dark night, it brought a sense of safety and a false guarantee that no harm would come knocking on the door that looking to pilfer your Playstation. However, Lacey knew that the old man next door went to bed early, and that he turned off each light in his house one by one at 7 p.m. sharp.
Only one light was on, the one shining in the window across from Lacey’s living room. The only reason she noticed it was that her insomnia had worsened and she found herself spending several nights sitting on the couch searching for a show on Netflix that would fill up the emptiness in her chest with a story.
“Do you think he’s okay, Fizzgig?” she asked her cat, a lazy brown thing made of impressive weight and unmanageable tufts of fur. He was laying on the windowsill, glaring out the window seeing nighttime creatures only a cat’s eyes could see.
Fizzgig had no opinion on the matter, but he meowed anyway because that was just the polite thing to do when a human attempted to communicate with you.
“Yeah, he’s probably fine,” she said. “Maybe it just takes too much energy to get to that room these days, so he just leaves it on.”
Fizzgig batted at moth foolish enough to draw near him.
Lacey moved back to the couch, throwing her legs up on the coffee table and starting her Netflix browse again. However, as she searched for a show, she found herself skimming over titles without reading them. Her eyes kept being drawn back to the light in the window.
“... maybe I should go check on him?” Lacey mused. “I don’t want to do that. That’s weird right? Or is that just neighborly? Neighbors really don’t do that anymore, huh? I say that like I was around for the time neighbors hung out because we didn’t have streaming television. Not that technology is evil, just that it has the capacity for desocialization.”
Fizzgig was used to his owner yowling in such a manner. She got excited easily, and he found the best way to rectify this problem was to hop up onto her lap until she quieted down, her fingers finding their way to the soft spot behind his ear for some quality scratches.
“But he is really old…” Lacey said. “... if he’d fallen and couldn’t get up, and I could have helped him, but I didn’t cause anxiety, and then he died-! I would never be able to sleep again.”
Fizzgig complained loudly as Lacey stood, lifting him in her arms. She deposited him back on the couch and moved to the front door. She was still in her pajamas-shorts worn thin by age and a tank top with a popular anime character on it-but she grabbed a jacket from the hook to throw over them before stepping into a pair of sandals by the door.
“Be good, Fizzgig, protect my stuff,” Lacey said as she left.
Fizzgig watched her leave, before ignoring her orders in favor of chasing after the damned moth he’d decided was his ultimate rival.
Lacey shivered as she walked down the sidewalk and up the rickety steps leading to her neighbor’s front porch. It was strangely cold for a July night, and for a moment she even thought she saw her breath. She drew her jacket closer as she rang the doorbell.
No answer.
She waited a few minutes, then rang the doorbell again, and again there was no answer.
“Hello?” Lacey called, peeking in through the front window. The curtains were drawn, but she could see a bit of the room beyond through a slight gap in between them. Was that the figure of a fallen old man in there or was it just the shadows playing tricks on her?
“I’m not a home invader!” Lacey said, for anyone who might be watching, before trying the doorknob.
The door was unlocked, and opened with a creak. Lacey almost turned tail right then and there, as dark houses and creaking doors were two things she did not want to encounter alone. However, she could see the one illuminated room in the distance, and the thought of leaving someone who needed help scared her a lot more than ghosts.
Or maybe ghosts were scarier, but still.
She tip-toed across the darkened living room, moved through a dark hallway sticking close to the wall as if she could sink into it if danger came.
“Mister?” she called out. “Are you in here?”
She crept closer to the illuminated room, the dining room it looked like. Her heartbeat rang in her ears.
“Ghosts aren’t real,” she whispered to herself. “Ghosts only show up in scary movies and webcomics, and this is real life. I can’t have an origin story I just finished college I’m supposed to go into debt and find a roommate on craigslist and hope I don’t get axe murdered.”
Lacey took her final step into the dining room.
“Oh my god,” she said.
Then she screamed.
The old man was laying on the floor, his limbs bent in a way that didn’t look comfortable and clearly not breathing. He might have been dead. He was probably dead.
That isn’t what made Lacey scream.
“Whoa, whoa!” the floating purple thing in the corner said, gesturing with things that might have been hands in an appeasing manner. “Don’t freak out kid, I just slipped and popped out of my guy, that’s all! No problems here, alright? No one’s gonna get haunted, no one’s gonna die! It’s all good, got it?”
“Ghost!” Lacey accused, pointing at the purple spectre.
“Yeah, okay, that’s rude,” the ghost said. “What if I was like ‘human!’ all in your face, huh?���
“I am a human,” Lacey said.
“Yeah, but I’m sure you’ve got a name I could use instead,” the ghost said sarcastically. “For example, I’m Reggie, hi, nice to meet ya. What’s your name?”
“I’m… I’m Lacey, sorry did you just say Reggie?”
“The fuck is wrong with Reggie?” the ghost asked.
“I just…” Lacey paused, her fear being totally overwhelmed by the absurdity of her situation. “I expected something… scarier?”
“Why would my name be scary just cause I’m a ghost?” Reggie huffed. “You don’t get a ghost name when you die you know. ‘Oh hey, welcome to the spiritual plane, here’s your ghost name, you’re Tralifax the Miserable.’ I got a regular person name, okay?”
“That sounds like an alien name,” Lacey said.
“Sorry, I wasn’t really thinking of ghost names when you broke into my house, I wasn’t expecting to have to come up with one on the spot,” Reggie huffed. “Look… I need you to do me a favor while you’re here, okay?”
“A… favor?” Lacey felt dizzy, like she might fall over.
“First of all, take a deep breath,” Reggie said. “You’re hyperventilating, it’s gonna feel really shitty if you keep doing that. Next, I need you to break this jar I’m floating out of.”
“J… jar?” Lacey stammered. She looked to where Reggie was gesturing and saw that there was in fact a jar laying on its side on the floor. The purple smokey creature that called himself Reggie seemed to have a tail that stretched down into the jar.
“... if I break this are you gonna be free to kill and haunt me?” Lacey asked nervously.
“I mean, no I’m not gonna do that, but if I was I wouldn’t tell you so,” Reggie did something that must have been a shrug. “Take your chances. I’d appreciate it if you helped me but I ain’t gonna make you do something you don’t wanna.”
Lacey slowly approached the jar, glancing up at Reggie occasionally. She picked it up, and as she did Reggie seemed to adjust his position based on how the jar moved.
“... if you kill me, please feed my cat,” Lacey said, squeezing her eyes shut and throwing the jar against the ground as hard as she could.
The jar shattered, and as it did Lacey heard a loud sound like a gust of wind. When she opened her eyes, the ghost was gone, and the old man was picking himself up off the floor.
“Phew, thanks, kid,” Reggie said, his voice coming from the old man’s mouth. “Went and tripped carrying some evidence and got myself trapped. I was like that for days, it was really boring.”
Lacey felt her knees buckle underneath her, and suddenly the old man was catching her before she could hit the ground.
“Look, you sit down here, I’ll make some chamomile and I’ll explain things,” he said, pulling out one of the dining room chairs for her.
Reggie did in fact make tea, and brought it out to the table in a fancy porcelain teapot with matching teacups. He poured them each a cup, and offered Lacey a bowl of sugar cubes. She mindlessly went through the motion of stirring two of them into her tea, and only after her first sip did she speak.
“Do you have maybe something stronger?” she asked.
“What, like Earl Gray?” Reggie asked.
“Like Jack Daniels.”
“Jeez, you kids,” Reggie pulled a face. “Booze is no way to treat a panic attack. Drink your tea and take some cleansing breaths.”
Lacey did as she was told, and despite the fact that she was sitting at a table with a possessed old man, she found herself growing calmer.
“Okay,” Reggie said. “So, ghosts are real. You probably already suspected that but decided to ignore it cause it sounds scary. Sorry, but we’re real. Some dead people have unfinished business and they stick around. Nothing to be scared of really, I mean no more than you’re scared of other people. There’s ghosts of murderers and crooks, sure, but there’s ghosts of accountants and preschool teachers too. Some ghosts, like me, get lucky and make friends with a human that’s about to die totally satisfied with their lot in life. Old Percy here shed his mortal coil and bequeathed it to me so I could conduct my business tangibly on the mortal realm.”
“Wh...what are you saying…” Lacey said.
“Okay, the Sparknotes version,” Reggie groaned. “I was friends with the old guy. He croaked. Gave me his body so I could talk to humans and touch things. Need to do that for my job you see, I’m a spectral investigator and mortal mediator. I save ghosts from exorcists and people from malevolent spirits. I basically keep things nice and peaceful, and sometimes that requires saving some spiritual fellows from nasty ghost traps like that spirit jar. I brought it home to throw it in the evidence locker and tripped and wouldn’t ya know it but with my luck it didn’t shatter but I sure popped right out of Percy and into the trap.”
“You’re a ghost ghost hunter,” Lacey said.
Reggie looked at her with disdain, and sighed.
“Yeah. Yeah I’m a ghost ghost hunter,” he said. “Kinda makes my job look simple and small but if that’s what you wanna call me okay.”
Lacey sipped at her tea, and felt a bit underdressed for a ghost tea party in her pajamas.
“So,” Reggie said, pouring himself another cup. “Now that you know about me-”
“You have to kill me?” Lacey shrieked, standing up so quickly her chair fell to the ground.
“Forget the killing, no one’s killing!” Reggie shouted. “You heard me before right? I’m not the ghost of some murderer, I’m just a person! I’m talking to you, person to person, ghost to living being, and I’m asking you… if you can keep a secret.”
“... you mean, as long as I don’t tell people you’re a ghost… you won’t kill me?” Lacey asked.
“I won’t kill you even if you do tell,” Reggie said, his voice growing a little kind even though he was exasperated. “You helped me out, you’re a good kid, and I’m not a killer. Besides, if you did go around telling people the old man next door is a ghost… they wouldn’t believe you so... this secret keeping thing is really for your own good.”
Lacey cleared her throat, blushing, and put her chair back. She took a seat, making a big show of crossing her legs and placing her hands in her lap. She took a sip of her tea.
“This… ghost ghost hunting…” she said. “Does it pay well?”
“Does it pa… kid the fuck are you asking me?” Reggie groaned.
“I’m really short on rent and I’m looking for a side gig to make some extra cash,” Lacey admitted. “And it sounds like you need someone human nearby just in case stuff like this happens. And I’m terrified of ghosts but I’m more terrified of homelessness or moving back in with my parents because let’s be real capitalism is the real horror show here, so-”
“Stop.” Reggie put up a weary hand to stop her rambling. “Just… let me think about it, okay?”
“Really?” Lacey asked, surprise written all over her face. She really hadn’t been expecting anything but a refusal.
“Yeah, really,” Reggie sighed. “Go home, get some sleep-don’t think I don’t see you staying up all night watching cartoons-and tomorrow I’ll give you my answer.”
“Holy shit, wow, okay, cool,” Lacey said. “Cool, cool, co-”
“Stop talking,” Reggie said. “Home. Now. Sleep.”
“Right! Yeah! Sleep. That thing living people do aha… was that offensive?”
“Yes,” Reggie said. “Go.”
Lacey shot Reggie an awkward two finger salute before backing towards the hallway, bumping into the wall clumsily and spinning to face the way she was walking. She stumbled out of the house, and immediately had to bent over and put her hands on her knees as she gasped for breath.
“That was so fucking insane,” she gasped. “Okay, chill. Sleep time. Can’t sleep with adrenaline. Gotta calm down.”
As she straightened and made her way back to her apartment, Reggie watched her from the window. One aged hand held the curtain back as he saw the young woman trip up the stairs and look around to make sure no one had seen, before going inside.
“... well… I’m screwed,” he sighed. “I definitely gotta hire that disaster kid.”
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currebunz · 4 years
Text
Burn The Candle At Both Ends Ch 8
AO3 Link
When you woke this morning, it felt like a dream. You felt like you slept for years and was finally waking up. Not that groggy feeling kind of waking up, like your life just started anew. As cheesy as it sounds, it was because of the other occupant in your bed. Dabi was sound asleep, villains probably don't have work schedules. You carded your fingers through his spiky hair, causing him to stir in his sleep. Dabi opened one of his eyes lazily, almost staring through you. "It's too early to be up yet" he groaned. You lightly tugged on a chunk of his hair. "It's noon" you corrected him. Dabi buried his face into the bed, trying to ignore everything around him. You pulled your hand away from his hair, resting it on the sheets underneath you both.
"I didn't say stop" Dabi muttered into the sheets. A soft smile crawled onto your lips as you resumed playing with his hair. You laid in bed with him a little longer, there was no work today with the building being reconstructed. Once your stomach began to growl, you had to roll out of bed. Dabi lifted himself onto his elbows, the blanket sliding down to the middle of his back. It was then you realized he was nude, brandishing his burns. "Where are you going?" he asked. "Going to eat? You want in?" you asked. Dabi slid out of bed slowly, letting the blanket fall back onto the bed. He looked on the floor for his underwear and his pants. "I could go for a bite" he sauntered over and placed a short kiss on your lips. He nibbled on your bottom lip teasingly.
"I'm not on the menu" you swatted him away playfully. "Shame" Dabi chuckled as he followed you to the kitchen. You reached into your freezer and pulled out a box. "Hope you like frozen waffles" you called out to him. Dabi nodded taking one from you. "Wanna see something cool?" he smirked. You stayed silent, a sign for him to continue. Dabi's hand lit up with blue flame that engulfed the waffle. The flame died out quickly, producing a burning smell. "Ta-dah" Dabi stuck the pastry into his mouth and began eating it. You gave him a slow clap, rolling your eyes. "Wow, you're going to put my toaster out of business" you teased placing two waffles into your toaster. Dabi took another one from you, humming in delight. You watched him burn another one and eat it plain. "No syrup? You monster" you snickered while taking out a bottle of syrup. "Correction, villain, plus that stuff will rot your teeth" Dabi shot back. You held eye contact with him as you drowned your waffles in syrup. "I'll keep that in mind when I get arrested for cavities" your sly grin taunting him.
The morning continued with light banter between you both. Your phone had rung, excusing you from Dabi's company for a moment. "Hello ____? It's Numero, we're having an emergency meeting in the park today in the afternoon" your boss informed you. "If you can make it, please come to hear about the office change, it's easier in person than email" you could hear the distress in his voice. "Sure, I'll be there" you agreed quickly. "Great! It won't take too long, I swear on my abacus!" his voice cheered up quickly before ending the call. You turned back to Dabi, meeting his lazy gaze. "I gotta go to a meeting in the park soon, promise not to burn the place down?" you smirked as you leaned over him. Dabi let out a scoff in disgust. "That was one time, what happened to you being shaken by all that?" he rolled his eyes and pushed your face away. "You're the one who wanted to stay" you placed a soft kiss on his palm. Dabi starred at you before pulling his hand away and kissing you on the lips. "You're the one who didn't want me to leave" he replied. You ignored him and went back to your room to get a change of clothes.
By the time you finished, Dabi was sitting on your couch with a lazy stare. "Well, I'm off" you felt awkward about leaving him here. Both of you realized it was dangerous for him to be out during the day, which meant he'd probably be laying low till nighttime. "I'll be here" Dabi waved you off. As you shut your door, you missed his mischievous smirk.
You made it to the park faster than you wanted to. Your anxious thoughts on leaving Dabi behind made you walk faster. Either way, the sooner you arrived, the sooner you could leave. You recognized the familiar faces of your coworkers, each of them chatting quietly. "Oh Miss ____, I'm glad you made it" Numero's tiny assistant ran up to you with a small stack of papers. "Please take one, I have plenty to go around" she squeaked handing you a copy. You examined the paper carefully, noting the long paragraphs detailing the incident. "We'll be starting shortly, so have a seat nearby" she smiled before scampering off. You glanced around, not finding anyone you were burning to talk to. You plopped onto the grass quietly and waited for the meeting to begin.
Numero stood in the front of the group, twisting his mustache anxiously. "I'm glad you all made it and I'm glad you all seem well" he announced, clearing his throat after. "As you know, our office is under reconstruction, for now, we will be working in a temporary office owned by Sir Nighteye" he continued. A few gasped in awe while others sighed. "Anyways, you've all been forwarded relief money until we can resume work" a few cheers rang out amongst your peers. "However, please remain cautious of villain activity and try to stay in contact with your assigned agency" Numero hushed the crowd with his stern voice. His assistant held up a copy of the paper provided. "Work resumes on the date listed, see that you record your agency's stats on your own time before that date" she explained.
Afterward, everyone slowly dispersed. A few complained about the homework while others appeared over the moon about time off. You felt uneasy about having to meet with Endeavor during a time you wanted to laze about. Speaking of fiery men, you wondered what Dabi was up to. You checked your phone and noted he hadn't texted you. For a moment, you considered texting him that you were done. You decided not to, it would seem clingy. As you walked back home, you checked your bank account and your heart skipped a beat. As stated before, a large amount of money was deposited from Numero. You felt a skip in your step as you neared your apartment. Tonight, you were going to treat yourself and maybe Dabi too. You felt over the moon as you opened your door.
"I'm home!" you announced cheerfully. No reply came, filling you with anxiety. Your apartment hadn't changed, except for the absence of Dabi. You checked your phone again, still no word from Dabi. You took deep breaths, eliminating the worst possible outcome that came to mind. Dabi would most likely return when he wanted to, there was no need for you to know his whereabouts. You walked around your apartment looking for him or a note at least. You returned to your living room with no fruits of your efforts. Giving in, you sent Dabi a text notifying him of your return. Now you waited, wondering what to do with your free time. After a few minutes, your phone dinged with a notification. You quickly opened your phone to read Dabi's reply.
<Meet me in the park, wear something nice>
You stared at the text, trying to process what Dabi was planning. Ultimately, you decided to just go with it. Before you left, you put on a touch of makeup. The sun was setting by the time you made it to the park. You walked along looking around for Dabi. A strong had gripped your arm and tugged you behind a tree. A hand covered your mouth before you could scream. On instinct, you dug your elbow into the chest of your captor. He let out a grunt, but his grip didn't loosen on you.
"I-it's me!..."
You paused. It was Dabi.
You relaxed your shoulders and waited for him to release you. "Damn, I thought that was supposed to be romantic..." Dabi scowled still in pain from your attack. "You shouldn't try shady things when villains are on high alert" you nagged him. Dabi rolled his eyes. "Anyways, c'mon" he began walking ahead. You lagged behind a bit, ignorant of what he was planning. "Where are we going?" you asked. Dabi looked back, a small smirk on his face. "A date idiot, you look nice" you weren't sure to be angry or happy by his response. You realized you had stopped and were falling behind. "Hey wait!" you broke a stride to catch up with him.
Dabi took you back around some alleyways. They were lit up with signs for bars and clubs, a few emitting savory food or alcohol. "Isn't it dangerous for you to be out like this?" you asked. Dabi shrugged, stopping at a doorway. "We keep this area safe so people don't snitch on me" he explained. Dabi took your hand and pulled you into a little niche. The stairs traveled downward, causing you to slowly descended into the dimly lit area. The area opened to a fairly tamed club, a band was playing in the corner while everyone mingled. "This is where the people who don't want to be scrutinized under the public eye come, real freaks" Dabi chuckled.
You followed him to a table set up in a secluded corner. Dabi pulled your chair out, chivalry hasn't died after all. A server came by and recognized Dabi. "Well, it's been a while slick" she had said in a sly voice. "Someone has to pay your rent doll" he shot back. You watched the exchange mildly concerned. Dabi took note and cleared his throat. "Don't worry, I just helped Jaguar here when she needed it" he explained. The server sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm not that old, had I still been a man I'd take you outside" she warned. Dabi rolled his eyes and lifted his menu. "After I got those sleaze bag debt collectors off your case? You're the real villain" he chuckled. Suddenly, 'Jaguar' had a change of heart. "Oh Dabi! I would never! You're my knight in flaming armor after all!" she cooed. Dabi gagged a bit, making you laugh.
"Don't call me that, it makes me sound lame" Dabi spat. "Anyways, who is this pretty gal?" 'Jaguar' looked you over with a smile. You introduced yourself with a small wave. "Oh, how precious! I've gotta let the chefs know! Any allergies hun? You won't need these!" 'Jaguar' swiped the menus and gave Dabi a knowing smile. "This one is on the house!" she sang before disappearing behind the doors to the kitchen. You stared at Dabi, watching him lean back in his seat. "So much for a relaxing night" he sighed. "It's okay, I'm having fun" you reassured him. A few minutes passed and Jaguar flew by with water. Dabi began to ask for a drink, but Jaguar gave him an intense glare. "I won't have you getting tipsy on your first date" Jaguar scolded him.
By now, Dabi was regretting life choices as you animately waved at the passing servers. They each had a colorful personality and knew Dabi to some extent. "Shove off you guys" Dabi finally shooed them away like birds flocking to food. One of them left a plate of round fried balls on the table. "What are these?" you asked, taking one and examining it. "Fried cheese curds, try one" Dabi popped one into his mouth without hesitation. You tried one and it felt hot in your mouth. "It's good," you said around the warm cheese. "They must be picking some of my favorites, what losers" Dabi laughed. Jaguar came back around to be nosy, only to run away as Dabi glared at her. "The staff really likes you" Dabi gagged again at your comment.
"I don't need to be liked, but they aren't so bad" despite the irritation in his voice, he was smiling. "So, you just keep this area safe?" you asked. Dabi nodded. "This area is predominately villains, so I keep it in line for those who do petty crimes" he explained. "From heroes?" you continued. Dabi shrugged again. "Heroes and other villains, it doesn't hurt to have some insurance" he glanced around as he spoke. You noticed that everyone in the surrounding area appeared rather eccentric or underdressed. Not something you would see at a cafe or a five-star restaurant. "It's like the slums in a way, but rather friendly" you muttered aloud.
Dinner came and went rather quickly. Jaguar had presented the house special, which had been a dish you weren't familiar with. It tasted amazing, making you wonder how you had been missing out. Jaguar came by after you were finished, with two shot glasses. "And for dessert! Parfait shots" she placed one in front of you and one in front of Dabi. "I gave yours a little hit for being a good boy tonight" she winked at him. She turned to you and crouched down. "Oh, yours was made non-alcoholic dear but if you'd like something don't hesitate to ask" she apologized. "It's no big deal, I'm good" you nodded. "What a sweetheart, Dabi don't fuck this up" Jaguar shot him a strict glare before prancing off. You were practically rolling in your seat.
"That damn queen, let's hurry and leave already" he slammed down a large tip and took his shot in one go. You finished yours in two takes, feeling your tongue spark with sweetness. "I should make these for the club" you hummed in delight. Dabi stood up and took your hand. He pulled you to your feet and hastily exited. From behind, there was a collective "good-bye" from the staff and patrons, no doubt trying to embarrass Dabi. The cool night air brushed up against you, drawing you closer to Dabi. "Let's go this way" he led you down the road. The busy city calmed down and a still quiet filled the emptying street. Dabi pulled you into a seemingly abandoned building. "Where are we going?" you asked. "You'll see" Dabi continued forward.
A broken staircase appeared in your way. "Just a moment" Dabi crouched down and slung his arms under you. He lifted you bridal style, being careful not to let your clothes drag. "Hang on tight" he ordered. You didn't hesitate to wrap your arms around his neck. Dabi went around the staircase and climbed the broken debris skillfully. You weren't sure how many floors you went up, but eventually, he stopped at a floor with the wall broken out. "Close your eyes for a moment," Dabi asked as he placed you back on the ground. You did as he requested, still a bit unsure of the situation. Your nose caught the smell of burning and you hear the crackle of flames.
"Alright, you can look now" Dabi called out. Your eyes opened to the now dimly lit room. Moonlight fell through on one side while a dozen candles lit the other. A sheet was set up to provide coverage, Dabi stood near it with his hand outstretched. "C'mere, I set this all up for you after all" he beckoned. You approached him slowly, still shocked by this display. Your hands fell into Dabi's, allowing him to pull you closer to him. Now, standing chest to chest, you could see Dabi's blue eyes shining through the darkness. "You said you wanted a date, so here we are" he pulled you to sit down next to him. Dabi looked up, prompting you to follow his gaze.
The giant hole in the wall made it easy to see the starry sky above. "This is the best place to watch the stars, the city lights make it too difficult" Dabi muttered aloud. "It's an amazing view..." you felt a breeze blow by and it felt cold against your skin. "Here," Dabi shrugged off his coat and draped it over your shoulders. His arm slid around your waist, providing heat as well. "Thank you" a slight flush blossomed on your cheeks. Dabi was sitting so close to you, it was all so romantic. "Hey, you're missing the view" Dabi tilted his head into your line of vision. You perked up, embarrassed from being caught in a daze. "Sorry, it's just all so sudden" you apologized.
"I can be sentimental sometimes" Dabi leaned his head on top of yours. A tender moment passed by, you in Dabi's arms as you both watched the stars. A shooting star flew by, earning a gasp from you. "Make a wish! Make a wish!" you excitedly patted Dabi on the chest. "Alright, alright" he closed his eyes for a moment before opening them. "Did you make one?" he asked. "Of course, but we can't share our wishes or they won't come true" you zipped your lips to emphasize your superstitious beliefs. Dabi obeyed, going back to watching silently. Your eyes flickered to Dabi's side profile occasionally. Your wish playing over and over in your head.
"I wish we could be together forever"
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irwintry · 5 years
Text
“What’s it like,” she said, tapping the cold counter separating their bodies, “living life in the fast lane? Was it everything you dreamed of, and more?”
Luke cracked a smile, and his lips itched to utter out a meek “of course”, but his grin faltered. He nearly reached across the marble to fetch her hand, and her slick red lipstick made it hard to concentrate. There was something about the rapping of her long nails and the knobbing of her knuckles that caused him to stick his hands beneath his thighs.
He had spent years trying to think about the shiny things— the bright and beautiful stuff that kept his life exciting. Anytime he stopped to wonder, “do I still want this?”, he’d make a list of reasons why life has never been better. But a part of Luke still wanted what his old self wanted: a place to call home.
He had found a home in a dozen places, and even his cold, concrete abode in Los Angeles had once been considered the psychological location. Yet, his life was like the tide, and it was constantly ebbing and flowing. And suddenly there was no room for a home. He struggled to find it in people; he felt lost.
“It’s everything I wanted,” he answered, his voice low and breaking, and he nearly coughed before saying, “but I don’t know if it’s what I need anymore.”
It hadn’t been the answer this girl was looking for. She wanted to hear about the beauty of fame, so her fingers fell flat against the counter, and her curious smile faded.
But Luke wasn’t upset with her leaving. People left his life a lot, and he had gotten quite used to the settling of absence, no matter the stage. Any eighteen-year-old shouldn’t worry about who would leave next, and twenty-two-year-old Luke lost count. All he had to do was wait for the next person to make him happy for a little while, and he wouldn’t think about the short time spent together.
It was everything he wanted, but nothing he needed.
He woke up at the crack of dawn, his shoes tied beside his nightstand so he had easier access. And he didn’t worry about breakfast. He let his feet do the talking every morning until noon. If he grew tired or hungry, he’d duck in a coffee shop he had never heard of before. Luke idealized losing himself in order to find himself— maybe that was why he chose to wander where his heart took him.
But the good thing was, it brought him to you.
Fate or not, Luke had no idea how a simple flower shop could look so appealing. Maybe because of you, the cute girl all tired and sweaty from brooming dead leaves away from the store front. Maybe he had his heart all tied up in knots over things he’d forgotten about, and you were the cause to relieve it all. So, he bought a bunch of carnations and carried on with his day, a small smile on his face while he made his way home.
And at nighttime, when you were minutes away from closing up shop and you suddenly lost power, Luke was there to ease your panic. He pushed through phone anxiety to speak with the power companies and all that jazz, and you sat on your very stool, eyes narrowed in on the famous blond who had come not once, but twice, into your store. He finally understood how energy worked— he could feel it in the weight of your stare.
And in the afternoons, when business picked up, Luke was there to carry on the chatter. He didn’t think about his life around, though you thought of his. You didn’t know why he bothered wasting his time with you. You didn’t know why he cracked playful jokes, like how he “has to think of better ways to woo you” because if he got you flowers, you’d only analyze his choices. You didn’t know why he looked at you as though you hung the moon— you weren’t sure anyone had looked at you like that.
And in the mornings, when the shop was quiet and you were only just opening up, Luke was there to dance the sleep away. He made a playlist of all of the songs the two of you shared an interest in, and he’d impress you with his less-than-perfect dance moves to get your day started. It was unlike Luke. He used to slip in and slide out, as did others. But with you, he took his time to know you, and it feel more real, more honest. Whatever feelings he had for you, they were more than anything he had felt before.
And when he finally worked up the nerve to ask you to hang out outside of work, he did it bashfully at that. Luke had become used to the easy, fast-paced life, and he hardly had to worry about his nerves stepping in and taking control. They did with you— it was a side of him he hadn’t seen since before high school. You agreed with a smile, hiding your uncertainty behind excitement. So, he took you to his favorite brunch place the next morning, and he spent the rest of the day with your hand in his.
And when the world finally felt slow again, Luke discovered his newfound adoration for the things he never knew he wanted. He had wanted fame, and he had wanted everything he had, but he needed your kisses and your hugs, and he needed a beautiful soul to guide him in the right direction.
And it didn’t shock him that he finally understood what home felt like in the arms of someone like you.
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xuhoon · 6 years
Text
paper roses
part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
author’s note: hey my lovely readers! this part has angst. don’t worry, it’s only slight anxiety angst on y/n’s part. hao does his best to care for her.
1563 words
“Y/n?” Hao banged on the door, “Y/n please open the door.”
“Please leave me alone like I asked you to.” You tried to speak as calmly as possible.
“I won’t leave you alone, not ever. Let me in, honey.”
“You’re making it worse!” The breaking point is never easy, but it happened to be vocal. You could hear the sadness laced in the coughs and sobs as your chest filled up with air. Clutching your chest, you felt your strength escape you as pushing the door closed became harder and harder. Your grip slipped as you sunk to the floor, tears covering your face and hands.
“You’re crying! Baby, please let me in, let me hold you!” Hao finally pushed through the door and found you gripping your hair and your face buried into your knees. “Baby girl, honey, I’m here. Baby, I’m here. Please look at me. Come here, let me hold you.” He picked you up, placing you in his lap and wrapping you tight. You nuzzled into his neck and cried. Instead of stifled sobs, you let everything out. Screaming and crying, you tugged at his shirt and clawed into his back. He held you, softly petting your hair, humming little tunes until you exhausted yourself and you couldn’t scream anymore.
The first time something like this happened in front of Hao, you excused yourself. He didn’t need to know that you had panic attacks or bursts of sadness. But then one time you couldn’t avoid it. Everything froze, and your chest felt like caving in. Your breathing hitched as you sunk to the floor. Minghao immediately picked you up and took you outside to breathe fresh air, holding you close. Finally, calm, you explained what happens: that you get overwhelming sadness that limits your ability to function normally. While explaining, you started to cry into Minghao’s arms. He held you until you were ready to go back home where he cuddled you until you fell asleep.
Minghao knew that the only thing he could do in times like this was to give you love and care. He knew that the surefire way to calm you down was to wrap you up tightly in his embrace and never let go.
“Sweetie pie, are you okay now?” He finally spoke up once you silenced yourself.
With a few sniffles and a nod, you turned your head to face him. He removes his arms from you to wipe your remaining tears away. Kissing your cheeks, Minghao helps you stand on your weak knees.
“I’m sorry, I love you,” you say into Hao’s chest.
“Hey, hey, hey, sweetie, it’s alright. I understand that you need some TLC when this happens, right? Why don’t you take a nice warm shower and we can regroup, yeah? I won’t be too far. Call me if you need anything.”
“Okay… I’ll do that.”
“I love you, sweetie.”
“Wait, Hao, stay with me.”
“What should I do? Just sit on the toilet?” He giggled and pulled you back in for a hug.
“I don’t know, sing for me or something. I don’t want you to be away from me.”
“Baby you haven’t showered in what feels like decades, get in the shower!”
“It’s been a day, thanks. Also, it’s almost midnight.”
“Wow, so long, get in the shower. You know you’ll feel better if you do. I’ll sit on the floor with you okay?”
“Okay.”
Minghao accompanied you as you showered off the day and its stresses, singing loudly and slightly off-key with lots of notes that were way too high. He would do anything to see you smile. After you finished up and got ready for bed, with Minghao brushing his teeth at the sink next to you, he reached out to hold your waist with his free hand. You both stare at each other, laughing softly as you break to spit.
“Are you feeling better, baby girl?”
“Yeah, thank you. You know just what I need.”
“Cuddles, all the time!” He pulls you onto the bed with him, kissing your face and neck.
“You’re my better half, Hao.”
“And you’re mine. I’ll take care of you as long as we live.”
“I’m starting to think you’re the only one that knows how to.”
“To take care of you?”
“Well, when that happens. I’m just glad Junhui wasn’t home to experience that. I think that was the worst one I’ve had in front of you.”
“It lasted for a solid thirty minutes, but I’m glad it ended when it did.”
“Sometimes I’ll tire myself out and end up falling asleep from exhausting all of my energy. That doesn’t happen often though, and I haven’t had an attack like that in a while. I haven’t had any attacks lately.”
“I know, honey, and I’m proud of you. We all have slip-ups from time to time. It’s important that you release it all, getting it out of your system so I can refill it with love.”
“You truly are the best, Hao.”
“I know.”
You held each other close and waited for sleep to overcome, but not before letting tears stream down your face one last time. You hoped that Minghao didn’t realize this time, but he reached to the back of your head and started petting your hair, letting you know that he was there for you. This action led you to bury your face into his chest as you cried yourself to sleep.
“Junnie, she had a really bad anxiety attack last night. I finally got her calm this morning. I made her some breakfast in bed and kissed her until she was laughing. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what caused it.”
“You haven’t been dating for more than two months, yet she occasionally sleeps over and that’s when you see it. It only happens at night, right? I’m sure it’s just nighttime blues. Nothing has to have caused it, it could be plain old anxiety. There doesn’t have to be a reason to have anxiety. Have you tried to bring up the subject?”
“She says that it comes in waves, and some days she just wants to curl up and cry. It hurts me so much, I want to take it away from her.”
“You can only be there for her.”
“But Junnie—”
“You know that, Hao, just give her some space for now. Try not to smother her.”
“That’s what works to calm her down, if I just hold her until it stops.”
“I’ll be home in two days, you’ll be alright. Try and keep her busy, maybe go to that aquarium you two like? Or, how about that little café by campus?”
“Those are good ideas. I’ll think of something, thank you Junnie. Have a fun trip. Text me tomorrow?”
“Sure thing, don’t worry so much.” Click!
As Minghao ended the phone call, he turned around and looked guilty. He was shocked to find you standing in the doorway of Jun’s room.
“Minghao…?” you asked shakily, “Was that Junnie?”
“Yes baby, he’s having fun. He bought us some souvenirs.” He tried his best to hide that he was just talking about you.
“That isn’t what you two were talking about… was it?”
“No, baby, it wasn’t.”
“What did you say?”
“How long were you standing there?”
“Calming me down…” You looked down and held your hands together.
“Oh, baby, come here.” He walked toward you, bringing your head into his chest with a hug.  “Junnie and I are worried about you when you get like this. We want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I love you.”
“I love you and your smiling face, sweetie. Do you want to go on a date today? My treat.” He picked up your face, cupping it with his hands and bringing it to his lips, meeting you halfway. “You’re too short to kiss sometimes, but I’ll gladly bend down to smooch you every time.”
“Where should we go today?” You asked, eyes shining brightly. “Is it early enough to still have brunch?”
“Sunday brunch is so cliché. I love it,” he paused to lace his fingers through your hair, “So, you’re feeling better, baby?”
“BETTER, BETTER, BETTER BABY!” Scream-singing at the top of your lungs, you scared Minghao, causing him to jump.
“WE DO NOT QUOTE DAY6 IN THIS HOUSEHOLD IN VAIN.”
You both spun around laughing and singing.
“I’m so glad you’re smiling today, baby. Let’s go into town! We can go to that little crepe café on the corner!”
“Hao, before we leave…”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Thank you. For worrying. It shows you care.”
“Of course I care, and Junnie too!” He grabs your hands, “We love you. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The crepe café was quaint but charming, a frequent date spot for you two. The routine included getting one sweet and one savory, splitting them down the middle, and feeding each other bites. You were now known as the “regular couple” to the hostess.
Minghao often took you here when he wanted to treat you to something, or if he needed to get in your good graces. He knew that the familiar and comfortable atmosphere, combined with the sweet smell of crepes coming in and out of the kitchen, would always put you at ease. It wasn’t much, but holding his hand across the table as you discussed which new crepe to try, made you feel like this wasn’t a dream. He tried his best to make you see that he’s really your knight in shining armor.
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