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assortedseaglass · 1 year

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The Seamstress & The Sailor - Chapter Seven

Tom Bennett x OFC

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Language, World On Fire Spoilers

Word Count: 3.7K

Note: I like to imagine the banner is of Tom writing letters in his bunk. Can't wait for Chapter Eight!

November 1939

Dear Tom,

Another letter, I am impressed.

This one almost slipped me by – Dot opened the door when Dennis Warley came by with the post. I wanted to make some new trousers and ordered a pattern from the haberdashers, and it came with your letter. Apparently he said it’s good men don’t want me because dadda has someone to look after him when he’s old. You know what Dot’s like. Cora said she launched herself at Dennis and the post almost wasn’t delivered.

Her and Cora are still at the factory, though missing your Lois and Connie enormously. We had a letter from Albie yesterday. He’s in France now, helping with the refugees from Poland. Luckily he’s not been in too much danger. With them and Albie off in Europe, and you at sea, our world has become a little lonelier.

There was a dance the other night at The Palais, though the women outranked the men by about four to one. Makes a change. There is a great deal less drunkenness and wandering hands, but we do miss you all. And I’d happily exchange Walter Watson. I don’t suppose you’ll have heard about that? Was in France for two weeks and got invalided out. Not shot by the enemy like he told us, worst luck. Albie said in his letter that Walter was having it off with a Polish girl when her father found them. Well, he’s come back with his arm in a sling and is somehow as handsy as ever. Tried to put his hand up my skirt. Even Queenie Warren told him where to go. She’s been ever so down in the mouth since you all left, men were her sole source of entertainment, though I heard her and Frank Smith have been writing.

Cora is blue as well. Her Roger has been training every hour God sends. They’re expecting the RAF to start regular flights, though what, we’re not allowed to know. I suppose, that’s my main news – Roger got me a job at the Air Transport Auxiliary. I’m making planes, constructing the wings mostly. I love the smell of the metal and the oil, and working with my hands. Roberta is here too, though she’s driving the goods vans. Hattie and Jude have left to help the Land Army prepare for spring. They’re not too far away but they work round the clock.

I was listening to the wireless when I got your letter. There have been rumours that the government will ask most women to do war work next year. There goes the hope we’d be down Belle Vue in the spring. I’m glad, though, that the government has realised we are capable of lifting more than a hairbrush and lipstick, even if it has come at the cost of war. We’re more than just objects to colour men’s lives. Perhaps with all this war work, more of us will start wearing trousers and Dennis Warley can piss off. They mentioned rationing, too. Think it’ll affect the likes of Robina Chase more than us, but I don’t think Dadda will manage without sugar in his tea. Heaven forbid they cut eggs and bacon. Of course, that’ll mean no new clothes for a long while. I don’t mind but Dot will be distraught.

Dadda’s been spending a lot of time with yours. They go out on these long walks round the dockyard. Sometimes they even stay up later than me. I can see them in your kitchen, just talking. It did make me laugh the other day – sat there in their chairs by the fire, they look just like Mrs O’Connell and Mrs Flaherty down the road. But then I suppose, they have each other because they lost their husbands. Now, our dads’ have each other because you and Albie have gone.

What is it like there? I want to hear everything. How are the other lads? I hope you’re getting along. There’s a map on the wall at the factory and when I look at all that ocean, I imagine you in a little paper boat skittering across is. There’s not a day that goes by when I don’t think of Albie, and of you. Do you think His Majesty will let you home for Christmas? Good for morale to let his soldiers come home. We’re hoping Albie will.

I had the thought that I should speak in letters from now on. Everyone is always telling me how quiet I am, yet here I’ve been writing pages and pages to you. I know I’m not good at talking, not like the others, but I can say it here – I miss you. Please, for me and for your dad, keep yourself safe. And write again soon.

Your friend,

Bess.

P.S. Make sure you write to Douglas, he’s suffering from missing you both.

Bess placed the finished letter in its envelope and wrote the address.

Tom Bennett

HMS Exeter

c/o Royal Navy Auxiliary

Portsmouth

Once the ink was dry and she had traced her finger over his name once or twice, Bess ate the remaining crust of her toast, drew on her blue jumper and cycled to the Air Transport Auxiliary factory. Straddling the cool metal of the planes as she drove nuts and bolts into their wings, Bess thought of her mother. She and Douglas had been courting during the Great War, but unlike Bess and her sisters, all she had to do with her time was wait. Wait for Douglas to come home with nothing else to occupy her thoughts. Bess was sick with worry, so much so that when she woke in the mornings without the churning of her stomach, she felt something was wrong. It wasn’t until sleep had faded and she remembered the war that the feeling returned, and she felt normal again. These few hours of respite at the factory, while they didn’t sway her fear, certainly calmed her. And who knows where these planes might go? Over the heads of Albie, or Tom, defending them from above? Into sun-kissed clouds, skirting heaven? And here she was, one of the girls making them fly.

By the time Bess finished her shift, grey clouds were low over Manchester and night was descending.

“Do you want a lift honey? Looks like it’s gonna chuck it down.” Roberta asked as they left the hangar. Bess declined, and they went their separate ways. Along with the other women, all covered in dirt and sweat, she meandered towards the factory gate, where a group of jeering men stood in a circle. At their feet, someone was on the floor, scrabbling to reach paper that was blowing away in the wind. As she got closer, Bess saw that they were boys, not yet eighteen perhaps. Except for one. Walter Watson.

“You’re a fucking disgrace,” he was saying to the man on the floor. “Handing out that horse shit.” The boys around Walter laughed. As they did so, the man on the ground stood. He was taller and broader than them, his face craggy with woe and as he turned, Bess saw the weary eyes of Douglas Bennett. She continued walking forward as passers-by ignored the altercation.

“Fucking coward,” one of the boys said. “Stood here selling your fucking peace paper when our lads are out fighting for their lives. For your life!” The youth jabbed bony his finger into Douglas’ chest. Bess was feet from them now, and still Douglas did nothing. It made her proud not to see him back down.

It was easy to infiltrate the circle; she was the smallest of this beastly party and each man was too focused on their abuse of Douglas to notice.

“You know Walter got shot!?”

“That’s not what I heard.”

They froze, and every face turned slowly towards her. Grease streaked her face and she reeked of metal and oil. The hands that had been folded across her chest slipped into her pockets and she leant slightly on one leg, hip jutting just enough to remind them of her womanhood. Some of the younger boys, who knew Bess only by her reputation, swallowed. Walter, who had known Bess long enough to watch her grow from witchy little girl to one of the most bewitching women in Longsight, looked ready to combust. Caught somewhere between anger and fear.

“Our Albert said a Polish fella broke your arm when he caught you balls deep in his daughter.”

Walter spluttered and his gang of underlings remained silent, shocked by the coarseness of her language. Douglas laughed.

“Did he really?” His smile was broad as he looked at Bess and she beamed back. She snatched the papers that Walter held in his hand and passed them to Douglas. Neither spoke and the argument was won; one by one, the boys shuffled home.

When the last of them had disappeared from sight, Douglas spoke. “Thanks, love.” Bess merely shrugged and began walking away. “If you’re heading home I’ll give you a lift.”

“Free bus ticket?” Bess said.

“No,” Douglas laughed quietly, and walked towards the bike resting against the factory wall. “Hop on.” He held the bike still as she perched on the handlebars and leant back against his shoulder. Bess shrieked at the first few wobbly turns of the pedal as Douglas adjusted to both of their weight, but soon, they were racing along the streets of Manchester towards home. “Used to take Lois home like this if she’d had a long shift.”

They were silent for the rest of the journey. Occasionally, they saw someone they knew and Bess would wave. From behind her, Douglas touched his cap. When she hopped of the bike outside her house, she turned to Douglas. “How is Lois getting on?”

“They’re working her hard. It’s an awful lot of toing and froing between camps. But she said she gets a thrill from singing for everyone. Nice to be doing her bit, you know.” He looked at the ground as he spoke, and Bess hummed.

“And Tom?” Bess tried to keep her voice measured.

“Barely hear from him. Last letter said he was on shore leave for a day or two, enjoying himself too much, no doubt”.

“I’m sure they’re fine, they can look after themselves.” He nodded solemnly. “Goodnight, Douglas.”

✼　　✼　　✼　　✼　　✼　　✼

Over the next few weeks Bess developed a routine that, while unable to ease her worry, made the time go faster. It went thus; each morning she arose before her family, as always, and began breakfast. Cora would join her, and together they fed the family before each parting ways to their various jobs. Between nine and five, she worked at the factory. Lunchtimes were taken at the dockyard with Fergal. At five o’clock she helped Douglas Bennett hand out Peace News, and at six he cycled them home. The evenings she wasn’t with Roberta, Hattie and Jude, or repairing clothes (she had taken the task to make a little more money), she spent at the Bennett house. Be it cooking dinners, listening to Douglas’ opinions on the government and the war, or simply sitting in amicable silence, Bess found she increasingly enjoyed his company.

She had always liked Douglas. When the children were little Fergal, Etta, Douglas and Marie had taken them on picnics to Blackpool or Southport. Tom and Albie always ran into the surf and terrorised Cora and Lois. Dot was still small, making sandcastles while Etta and Marie talked the day away. Inevitably, Bess found herself trailing Douglas as he pointed out patterns in the clouds or interesting shells. Even now, Bess was drawn in by the gentle eyes set in his stoic face. The small smiles he offered when something had pleased him. The unshakable sense that maybe, just maybe, Douglas Bennett was the best of men.

Tonight was no different. Bess sat in a chair opposite Douglas, finishing some silk stockings for Queenie Warren. How she had been able to afford them, God only knew, but Bess enjoyed the feel of them slipping over her skin like water. Douglas was reading the newspaper. Every now and then, when Bess paused to rest her eyes, she caught Douglas glancing into the middle distance.

“Memories or visions?” she asked him softly. He sighed and removed his glasses.

“These days, they all blur into one horrible nightmare.” The silence resumed. Bess cast aside the stockings and took Douglas’ hand in hers, gently rubbing it with her thumb. He studied her a moment.

“You’re an odd lass,”

“So people say,”

“And a kind one.” She paused her movements and looked at him. “You should be spending time with people your own age, not barmy old men like me.”

“You’re not old. And I like spending time with you.” It wasn’t a lie. Douglas was a quiet, calm realist much like herself. Perhaps, if she had been born fifty, even thirty years ago, she would have liked him more. A thought occurred to her.

“I think you and Tom are more alike than either of you care to admit.”

Douglas huffed by way of a reply, then spoke. “He’s more like his mother than me. They both are. I don’t suppose you remember our Marie too much?”

“I remember her laugh, and that mam loved her.”

“Yeah,” he smiled and looked at Bess’ hand stroking his own. “Everyone did.” He paused once more before continuing. “What if Tom ends up like me, Bess?”

“What do you me-”

“What if he comes back from this God-awful war a shadow of himself? He’s so bright and full of life, like his mother, what if it disappears? If he comes back at all-”

Bess thought about her next words carefully. “We can’t know if they’ll come back. Tom, Lois or Albie. But we can live in the knowledge that death won’t diminish our devotion to them. You and I may not agree with war, but they’ve gone not because they blindly followed everyone else, but because they want to defend those who can’t defend themselves. And I am so proud of them. My Albie, and Lois and Tom.”

They were silent for a while as Douglas considered her words. Then, quite unexpectedly, he kissed her hand and placed his own on her cheek. The image of his son flashed across his face and Bess blushed.

“Off you go, Bess. Your family will be missing you.” The abruptness of their evening’s end took Bess by surprise, but she gathered her sewing, kissed Douglas’ cheek and left.

Dot was warming her feet by the fire when she opened the door. Cora was reading next to her.

“Dadda’s down the pub,” Dot spoke without looking up. “But you’ve stolen his drinking partner.” Cora pushed Dot’s leg with her foot, not looking up from her book.

“What do you mean, Dot?” Bess was in no mood to argue. Dot looked her sister dead in the eye.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Douglas.”

“Yes?”

“It’s not proper,”

“For God’s sake,”

“All these men on the go,”

“Me and Douglas are not ‘on the go’. And which men!?”

“There’s a letter on the bed for you.”

Bess’ heart stopped. “A letter?”

“Yes. Another letter.” Dot tried to sound aloof but her need for gossip got the better of her and she sat up in the chair. “Who’s writing to you, Bess? That man Tom punched?” She received no answer, for Bess was racing up the stairs to their bedroom. The letter was set against her pillow, and at seeing the familiar scrawl of her name, her heart leapt. Bess ripped open the envelope and found her seat in the window.

Dear Bess,

Thanks for your letter. Your writing is doing wonders for my reputation – the other boys don’t get half as many as I do, and most of them are from their mams. We’ve got a wall full of pictures that girls have sent the lads. Fancy sending one to add? Maybe you all oiled up at the factory. Lot of lonely sailors in need of entertainment, and God knows ENSA won’t be sent out here.

I wish I could be down The Palais. Not because I miss the dancing mind. We’ve not seen a woman for weeks and the thought of them all dancing together makes me weak in a way that has nothing to do with my sea legs. Tell us about it in your next letter, with all the details. Which reminds me, lay off Queenie Warren. I know she’s annoying but she means well. I don’t think you know how intimidating The Vaughn Sisters are!

I’m writing this as we come into dock. Can’t tell you where exactly we are, for obvious reasons, but I’m looking forward to putting my feet on solid ground for a few days. Resupply means shore leave. I know you’d spend it looking in museums, walking and hunting down fabric, but for sailors it’s a different game altogether. It’ll be straight to the pub for rum and beer, before hitting the town. All hands on deck there, if you see what I mean.

I’m getting along with the other lads just fine, thank you for your confidence. I’ve got plans to spend shore leave with Vic and Norman. Vic’s Mancunian too, reminds me a bit of your Albie. Head screwed on proper and he’d have your back in a fight. You’d like him. Norman’s a little green, but Vic and I will put him right. Said we’d bring him to Longsight when we’re home, I have a feeling Dot would eat him up. He’d love it. She likes a fella she can boss around doesn’t she, your Dot? Norman will probably bring Terry along – he’s the wireless operator. Wouldn’t say boo to a goose, which is unfortunate considering he’s in the navy.

You’ll be glad to hear I’ve kept out of trouble, though Campbell and Ginger have me contemplating the many uses of hawser every now and again. Campbell’s First Officer, decent enough bloke but he’s a posh twat. Doesn’t know how to speak to us but God, he does try. Ginger’s actually called Henry. From the East End and thinks he’s a real geezer. Always bossing Norman around and lording it over the rest of us – he was an Able Seaman before the war so even though we’re all the same rank he thinks he can give us orders. No-one would care if I pushed him off the dock so I might give it a go. Burn this letter in case they catch me, it’s evidence.

Sounds like Walter has had all hands on deck too. Surprised he managed to pull a girl, didn’t think the bloke could kick his way out of a wet paper bag. I have half a mind to kill him before the Jerries do. If his arm hasn’t healed by the time I get back, you’d better tell him to watch out. Dennis Warley too. Don’t think he’s one to comment on what people look like when the rat-faced pillock hasn’t touched a woman since he came out the womb. I wouldn’t change you for the world, Bess, and anyone would be lucky to have you by their side whether that’s your dad or your husband.

Look after yourself, and give a kiss to Cora and Dot for me.

Tom.

p.s. I’ve written to dad.

Bess reread the letter, trying to hunt out any details she might have missed. She couldn’t help but be disappointed by Tom’s letters. They were never as long as hers, and he refrained from telling her anything of substance, just the goings on of the ship. It wasn’t like their evenings in the kitchen, when he’d tell her everything. Perhaps, he needed the silence and Bess supposed he couldn’t send her a blank page to signal his internal thoughts. She tucked the letter in a book, kissed the picture of Tom she kept in its pages, ignored her visions of Tom in the arms of a strange woman while on shore leave, and wandered downstairs.

“So? Who’s your fancy man?” Cora looked up at Dot’s question.

“Who says it’s a man?” Dot looked annoyed at her sister’s answer but said nothing, switching on the wireless to fill the silence.

“Warsaw now lies in ruins, while Germany and Russia continue to carve out Poland between them. At sea, the Royal Navy are focusing their efforts on scouring the South Atlantic in search of the notorious German pocket battleship Admiral Graf Spee. Rumoured to be somewhere off the coast of Argentina, the deadliest of Hitler’s Kriegsmarine has been involved in a number of skirmishes with merchant ships. There is a feeling that the Allied Forces are simply hoping that the inevitable will never come to pass-”

“Tom’s out that way, isn’t he?” Cora said softly.

Bess nodded. “Somewhere, yes.” The three sisters were silent, portraits of Albie and Etta looking down at them from the mantel as they waited for Fergal to arrive home. Across the road, Douglas switched off his own wireless, donned his cap and made his way to the pub. Bess watched him through the window as he made his way down the street, and her stomach gave a lurch. All these lonely souls left at home, severed from their loved ones with no knowing if or when they’d see them again. The horrors of war were unimaginable, but nobody talks about the living dead left behind.

Note: Happy Easter everyone! Sorry this chapter has taken a while, I’ve been so busy! I know some people reading this haven’t seen WoF (you should) – Douglas is a bus conductor. We’re with Tom A LOT for the next chapter 😊 While my paternal grandmother made munitions, my maternal grandmother (a seamstress) made planes – glad to have given the girls the same jobs as my grandmas’. The Palais, where Bess goes dancing, was where my Grandma used to go too. World on Fire is so intertwined with my family due to where it is set, it makes my heart sing! Here is my maternal grandmother looking fantastic.

Tags: @aemonds-wifey @multiple-fandoms-girl @jessssica1234 @babyblue711 @anditsmywholeheart @allthefandomtherapy @valerie977 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @chainsawsangel @greenowlfactif @thelittleswanao3 @yentroucnagol @skikikikiikhhjuuh @just-emmaaaa @beiigegalx

#ewan mitchell #tom bennett #tom bennett x ofc #ewan mitchell x reader #world on fire #the seamstress & the sailor

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vxiphoid · 1 year

Text

ꉂ LUNAR BREATHE ᝰ

❨ music for: the om!brothers, from: you ❩ i havent written for obey me yet so heres my take on “gifting” them with music you’d think they’d like :]] my GAWD i cannot write for lucifer to save my life😞﹫lucifer, mammon, & leviathan

lucifer

playlist; workaholics

MARRY-GO-ROUND OF LIFE - JOE HISAISHI

now playing ෴

up next queue ↴

CHARLIE’S INFERNO - THAT HANDSOME DEVIL

NOEL’S LAMENT - KHOLBY WARDELL

MY TIME - BO EN

𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀

♫ MARRY-GO-ROUND OF LIFE - JOE HISAISHI

- self explanatory, you can’t tell me he doesn’t listen to this song. smooches the top of your head for putting it on even though its already on his playlist, you know him so well<33 lucifer defo dances with you to this song MWAH MWAH. also likes listening to this while doing paperwork? i dunno manne he just really likes this song

♫ CHARLIE’S INFERNO - THAT HANDSOME DEVIL

- believe it or not, lucifer has this song memorized WORD FOR WORD. you’re jamming to all the upbeat parts n he’s just “i don’t want to dieeeee please don’t let me diiiiiieeee” he enjoys the song i swear. he doesn’t listen to this one much, once every blue moon or so, but when he does he’s smiling just a little

♫ NOEL’S LAMENT - KHOLBY WARDELL

- OH MY GAWWWD WJHEWKDN‼️ he loves this song its so dramatic and (he’s a drama king)⁉️⁉️ the violence is sorta like therapeutic, bobbing his head to it and everything (this is a cry for help). lucifer loves classical music and the rhythm of the song gives off that vibe. literally unravels his whole big brother act to this song, such a stress reliever, cannot thank you enough.

♫ MY TIME - BO EN

- now THIS is a genre he doesn’t listen to. since its new to him you kinda just sit and watch him. the piano is well placed plus the song is a whole burst of energy, multiple shots of expresso livening moods. you said that its from a video game from the human world but the songs have way different meanings than they seem and lucifer stayed awake all night to decode it. it was on loop for like six hours straight…

mammon

playlist; music is cheaper than therapy

FUNEE HAT FREESTYLE, FUNEE HAT SONG - KEVINKEMPT

now playing ෴

up next queue ↴

DOGTOOTH - TYLER, THE CREATOR

HONEY - KEHLANI

MOONLIGHT - KALI UCHIS

𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀

♫ FUNEE HAT FREESTYLE, FUNEE HAT SONG - KEVINKEMPT

- this is the song he blasts at like 3 am to piss off levi and satan also because its a whole bop??? a song about hats has mammon hyped as soon as it shuffles on his playlist. his favorite hat you ask? funny ducky hat‼️‼️ has to barricade is door when he does play this, satan will break it down.

♫ DOGTOOTH - TYLER, THE CREATOR

- there is NO WAY mammon doesn’t listen to tyler omfg. this is a rather new song so when you were like “oh great mammon, please spend two minutes and fifty seven seconds of your life to listen to such a yummy song” (in his words, not yours) he had to try it out. lets just say those two minutes and fifty seven seconds was completely worth it.

♫ HONEY - KEHLANI

- you told him to listen to this PURELY because he’s a simp. this man lays awake in his bed, smiling like an idiot just thinking about you, why not give him a little background noise while he does? literal putty in his bed after that. he’s yours, he’s yours, he’s yours.

♫ MOONLIGHT - KALI UCHIS

- type of song you listen to when you’re on cloud nine thinking about your first kiss or something like that… something about the beat is so soul-gripping. THE SPANISH? LAWWD. AND HER VOICE IS HEAVENLY. kiss him to this song PLEASE. why is this song 10 hours long?

leviathan

playlist; airplane mode

NOVACANE - FRANK OCEAN

now playing ෴

up next queue ↴

LOVE TASTE - MOE SHOP

STRESS RELIEF - LATE NIGHT DRIVE HOME

FIGHTER - JACK STAUBER

𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀𓈀

♫ NOVACANE - FRANK OCEAN

- half of the time you have no idea what this dude is listening to, think of novacane as a blessing. this is a song where you have to leave levi alone with it because he’s to embarrassed to sing the curse words near you😭 but once he gets comfortable the only thing you’re really going to get is humming along with the song. he does like this one though :]

♫ LOVE TASTE - MOE SHOP

- CLASSIC BOP FOR GAMING. has this shit on full blast in his headphones + 1000 notifications from his phone telling him that his music is too loud. levi is the happiest when you show him this one because its right up his ally and you play games with him with this in the background😋.

♫ STRESS RELIEF - LATE NIGHT DRIVE HOME

- he has those times where he gets sad for literally no reason and he spins in his little chair and thinks about it, this song is perfect for that. lowkey helps him think everything over and even if he’s not sad it kinda just empties his brain. give him lots of kisses, basically shower him with love after listening to this <3

♫ FIGHTER - JACK STAUBER

- THIS IS ONE OF THOSE SONGS WHERE LEVI LITERALLY CANT STOP LISTENING TO… ABSOLUTELY FOLDS. yall are little nerds and finish the lyrics to the song one by one without having to communicate on who sings what, telekinesis type stuff.

back to om! masterlist

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stirlinqs · 5 months

Text

being funny in a foreign language!

CHAPTER ONE. PART OF THE BAND.

WORD COUNT: 1027

official first part linked here . . . masterlist HERE!

WARNINGS: none!

NOTES: i really love how guinevere is coming along! (i’m hoping she becomes more relatable as i keep writing)

you can also keep up w/ this on my ao3 💭

Have you ever felt like you were living in a movie scene? Tonight was one of those nights, my speakers blasting a random playlist as I rummaged through my cabinets for various spices. I hadn’t been home in a while, almost basking in my kitchen lights as if I were God himself. I knew that once things had settled, I’d be back to partying and drowning my sorrows in cheap wine, but for a second, the waters calmed.

I had been living life from the sidelines.

I observed as things went down, but refused to get involved or experience them. It was saddening. Any ordinary person would be resentful about it. To me, it was a form of security. I hadn’t realized how badly I had cut myself off from those who cared about me. It never hit me, not until the deed had already been done.

Carefully, I turn my kitchen sink on and pull a pan out from the bottom cupboard. Before I can fill the pan, the front door of my apartment creaks open.

I don’t jump. I barely even react. Instead, I slowly turn around, staring as my best friend stands in the doorway.

“I didn’t know you liked Frank Ocean,” he says, stepping into my apartment. I hadn’t expected his company, looking at the key that he held in his hand.

‘Pink + White’ played on the speaker. The bass echoed through the room.

I put the pan that I held so intently down for a moment, glaring as I stood in my kitchen. “I should’ve never given you that key, Ross,” I replied. “You could’ve given me a scare!”

Ross shut the door behind him. His unplanned visit felt bittersweet. I could tell by watching his expression change he had something to say to me. He sat down in my living room, his eyes not once leaving my silhouette. “It’s been a while since I’ve just…shown up, yeah?” He chuckled. “Your apartment hasn’t changed, either.”

“What’s this all about?” I’m confused. “We don’t walk in like this anymore, Ross. We’ve grown.”

Just like that, he stops chuckling to himself. “Where have you been, Guinevere?”

“What do you mean? I’ve been home,” I mumble. “I’ve been working.”

Ross shakes his head. “No, Guinevere. Where have you been?”

There’s an uncomfortable silence that lingers whenever we stop speaking. I loathe it. It feels unnatural. I sigh, leaning into my kitchen island. “I’m sorry.”

“You haven’t cut contact like this before.” Ross rubs his forehead, resting his head in his hands. “I thought you were getting better, Guin. What happened?”

I part my lips, shrugging. “Nothing specifically happened. I got overwhelmed once things got better. It’s much easier to run than to face things, you know?”

I walk over to him, sitting next to him on my couch. He nods, listening to me. He’s always been such a great listener, even when he’s busy, even when he’s not in London. “I know.”

He looks over to my camera equipment, studying the bags and lenses. “Have you taken any photos recently?”

“I had a gig a few days ago,” I reply.

“No, no. Not for other people, for you.” He rephrases.

I shrug. “What’s it matter?”

My question begins to prove his point. Once I realize it, I cover my mouth and let him lead the conversation. “Listen, I have a proposition. Don’t decline it just yet, okay?”

“Well, now I’m quite confused,” I nervously laugh. “What are you proposing?”

“My band is going on tour,” he smiles. “Matty’s been looking for a photographer, so I told him you’d be willing to snap a few flicks!”

I gawk at him, my expression a mix of anger and excitement. “You didn’t ask me beforehand? Ross, I’ve got a job! I can’t just not be in London for months at a time.”

He shushes me, turning around in his seat. “Think about it, Guin! We’ll pay. Matty may be a stubborn guy, but he’s not a monster. You’ll be just fine. I think it could help. You need some time away from home.”

“Ross, I don’t know. You’re asking a whole lot of me,” I say. I push a few strands of hair out of my face, trying my best to think this over. “I’m not that close with your bandmates, either.”

“They don’t bite, Guinevere,” he states.

“I’m not sure about that. Have you seen that one photo of Matty?” I giggle.

Ross rolls his eyes. “They’re nice people! You’d like Adam. He reminds me of you..”

I blink. “Is that a good or bad thing?”

“Good,” Ross replies. “He’s sweet.”

He talks about his band for a few additional minutes, sharing details about George, Matty, and Adam. It helps me understand them more, though I’m sure he’s telling me so I’m more inclined to say yes to his proposal.

I listen, adjusting my posture as we talk.

“I don’t want to force you, Guin. I care about you. You shouldn’t have to shelter away when things feel good. You should embrace it.” Ross reassures me.

I smile, squeezing his hand. “You’re a good friend.”

“So, will you tag along? We’d love to have you.” He asks me once more, his eyes wide.

I feel as if I can’t say no.

I take a breath, leaning back into the couch cushions. “Will there be drinks?”

“Oh, come on! Be serious for a moment.” He shoves me.

“I’m sorry!” I laugh. “Yes, I’ll go.”

“Really?” He seems shocked. He must’ve believed I would’ve said no.

“Yes, Ross. I’ll go.” I fixate on his expression, watching as he beams.

His happiness is contagious. He stands up, nearly jumping in place. “This is so exciting!”

“Where are we going first?” I ask. “I’ll need to pack a good amount of clothes.”

“Atlanta, Georgia,” he replies. “I’m so glad you’re coming with us!”

I feel a sense of security. “Me too. I’m sure it’s going to be fun!”

I had so many questions. However, I didn’t want to ruin the sweet moment we were having.

They seemed to be at their very best. Hopefully, I could be at mine as well.

#the 1975 #matty healy x reader #matty healy x oc #original character #ross macdonald #still at their very best #the 1975 satvb #matty healy fic #ao3 writer #fanfiction

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dhrvie · 1 day

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Hey,

It’s absolutely fucking hilarious to me that tumblr is where you’re most active lmao, it feels very on-brand, very Frank ocean of you 😂

No question really just wanted to share something. So the other day my little sister was watching a tv show ( it was fucking Ginny and Georgia :/) and I was just scrolling mindlessly on my phone until the most soul-shattering, stunning song comes on and though I paid no attention to the show before this point, suddenly I’m transfixed whilst the song plays and when it stops I’m left absolutely speechless and close to tears. The song that played was Retrograde, by you and I’ve never felt an emotional reaction to a song like that on first listen (and I listen to a lot of music if I do say so myself 😌) So yh , you just reminded me of the power of music, in just a few seconds you moved me emotionally to a place that I don’t think I’ve ever been before, and I’m in awe of rapunzel and of every other release that you have ever put out in the world.

Ok nvm maybe there is a question here- I’m curious about the writing of Retrograde. How did it come to be ? How did you decide that you were going to open rapunzel with it? Yh I think that’s all the questions I have :)

(Sorry to badger you like that I’ve been thinking about retrograde ever since I heard it and I just wanted to let you, anyone, know what it was like hearing a song like that for the first time)

Much love xx Judes ❤️

very kind of you judes, thank you, means a lot.

retrograde felt like a natural opener chronologically, I started it just before I left my hometown. I had messed around with the piano riff for a while, it felt haunting. didn't come up with anything for a long time and then one day I blurted the "meet me at our corner" line and the rest followed.

A lot of rapunzel is about feeling liberated in queerness and exploring it, but it felt important to include a song that talked about some of the challenges that came before the "feeling liberated", the devastating parts of living in places where you can't be open. "stable life" was another one of those bleaker songs.

something that only me / my friends really know is that the outro of grateful "we talk into the dead of night, share history in the dwindling night, and thank the stars that here is where we've reached", is about the subject of retrograde. full circle moment.

lots of love.

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aamalaaa · 1 year

Text

sunrises & liquor (m) | myg

all that jazz

pairing: yoongi x reader

series: sunrises & liquor

rating: m(18+); cursing, alcohol consumption, smut, explicit content

genre: bar workers au, barman yoongi au, (kinda) forbidden relationship, angst, fluff, smut

summary: after a failed academic pursuit and a few meaningless and disappointing relationships, you decided to go back to what you never thought you would: the bar industry. There you find a family, friends, heartache, misunderstandings and one particular barman who just won’t get out of your head.

warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption (duh), smut, dom!yoongi, sub/brat!reader, dirty talk, oral sex(m.receiving), unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it folks), car sex, rough sex, angst, reader has issues bro

a/n: welcome folks, to yet another chapter of s&l! it’s been more than lovely having you around, sharing your thoughts and screaming with me. I appreciate you!! anyhow, this is the longest one yet, my bad, and we’re getting into the final arc of this story, I reckon. I hope you thoroughly enjoy this one<3

//: btw, I listened to ‘Lost’ and ‘Thinkin bout you’ by Frank Ocean, and also ‘Meet me in the Hallway’ by Harry Styles while writing this one, I recommend it.

chapter word count: 8.5k (my bad)

previous | next

Today was a long day.

It started well enough, you woke up and ate breakfast with two of your best friends, exchanged a few texts with Yoongi and tried to help Jimin with his Hoseok problem. You even managed to convince him to meet up with the latter.

Turns out it ended up unraveling in the worst possible way and you were left to pick up the pieces of your dear friend’s heart all throughout the afternoon, trying to ignore the guilt gnawing at you in favor of focusing on your friend who really needed you.

Because this isn’t about you and how you feel bad about what happened and the role you played in this whole situation. This is about Jimin and how he just got basically rejected by his longtime crush and friend.

So you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling in an attempt to understand what in the actual fuck happened today and how to help, what to do to make both your friends feel a little less miserable.

And Hoseok may have rejected Jimin, but you know him and you’re sure this whole thing is eating at him, will probably keep him up at night. Hoseok never wants to hurt anyone, on the contrary, he always tries to help people feel a little more hopeful, a little less out of control.

You facepalm yourself and sigh loudly. How the fuck do you always end up all up in everybody’s business, your life is enough of a mess as it is.

Your phone vibrates and you unlock it, smiling like a whole ass fool as soon as you notice Yoongi’s contact name pop up on your screen.

Love [6:37]: badly, spent the whole afternoon consoling Jiminie

Love [6:38]: I’m so tired

You drop your phone on the bed and head towards the bathroom to take a much needed shower. You stand under the stream of hot water for, well, way too long, before you step out of the shower and wrap a towel around your naked form, blow drying your hair as soon as you do.

You leisurely make your way towards your dresser and slip on a simple black t-shirt. Then, you unlock your cell phone again and try to force down the surge of energy you get when you notice two new messages from Yoongi.

Music Man [6:41]: shit. poor Chim.

Music Man [6:41]: are you ok?

You sigh contentedly as you type in a response and send it.

Love [7:29]: yeah I am, just need to unwind and go to sleep early.

You start scrolling through netflix, almost settling on a title before you feel your phone vibrate on your stomach.

Music Man [7:36]: wanna come over?

You grin and start typing.

Love [7:37]: mmmhm, idk. that’s at least a 15 minutes drive.

The reply is almost instantaneous.

Music Man [7:37]: I made budae jjigae..

Love [7:38]: say no more

Love [7:38]: leaving in 10

You start getting ready, pulling on some jeans and a coat, then you brush your teeth and grab your purse.

You look at your phone before dropping it in your bag.

Music Man [7:40]: bring overnight stuff [:

“Did you get my last text?”

You push past Yoongi and head inside the apartment.

“I did,” You reply in a monotonous tone.

He closes the front door. “Where’s your overnight stuff?”

You grin and lift your purse up,

“Here.”

“You’re sleeping in… jeans?”

You slip your coat off and hang it, wagging your eyebrows playfully. “Or maybe I’m sleeping naked?”

“Are you trying to be the end of me?” Yoongi groans.

You chuckle lightheartedly,

“Don’t act like you’ve never seen a naked woman before, please.”

“Definitely not, but they weren’t you. I don’t think you realize the power you have over me, love.” He draws closer and engulfs you in a tight embrace, laying a gentle press of his lips on top of your head.

You blush profusely, thankful for the fact that your face is hidden from Yoongi’s scrutinizing gaze. This might be the most romantic and simultaneously arousing thing you’ve ever heard.

Shit.

“Then you’ll lend me sleeping clothes will you?” You nip at his exposed collarbones.

Yoongi shudders quietly. “So this was your plan the whole time? Make a man weak so you can steal his clothes and why not, his cat too maybe?”

You laugh against the crook of his neck. “Damn, you caught me.”

“That’s cold, angel.”

You lift your head up and your eyes meet an absolutely devastating pout.

“Poor baby,” You coo before cupping his soft cheeks, pressing your lips on his for a few seconds and sighing in absolute bliss, the blond man’s arms tightening around you as you get lost in each other’s taste. You break it off first, parting an inch or two from him and staying there for a short moment, the both of you breathing in each other’s air, eyes closed.

“I just think your clothes smell nice,” You whisper tenderly.

Yoongi hums. “What do they smell like?”

You dip your head down and press your forehead on his shoulder, a light pinkish tint taking over your cheeks, and mumble, “You.”

“So you think I smell nice?”

You slap his hip and groan in embarrassment. “I hate you.”

“Sure you do.” He chortles, a calloused hand making its way through your freshly washed hair.

You stay unmoving for a few moments, trying to will the heat in your cheeks away and then raise your head, first noticing Cat, laying on the couch and judging the both of you with it’s golden orbs, before catching the spicy scent of budae jjigae for the first time since you came in.

“You actually cooked, like for real.”

Yoongi lets go of his hold on you and rubs the back of his neck. “Well, yeah.”

You approach the stove top, taking in a deep breath through your nose.

“I thought you were finessing me so I would come over.”

“That’s rich coming from you, clothes stealer.” Yoongi says, a playful indignant tone to his voice.

“Hey! I borrow them, I don’t steal them.”

“Tell that to the hoodie I haven’t seen in the last two months.”

You cross your arms and pout, leaning on the counter. “You gave that to me, meanie.”

“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”

“That’s not fair,” You squint your eyes at him.

Yoongi chuckles and kisses your temple, taking two bowls from the cupboard and filling them with two portions of the still-warm meal before putting them down on the counter along with utensils and two water bottles.

“Eat up before it gets cold.”

You whine but still sit down at the counter, slurping and munching hungrily at the delicious comforting meal. Yoongi watches you with an amused expression, eating quietly and slowly. Once you’ve annihilated your portion you put your utensils down and quirk a brow at the blond man,

“What?” you take a sip of water.

Yoongi shrugs, a crooked smile on his lips. “Nothing, you’re just cute.”

You choke on the liquid, coughing loudly and bring a hand up to your chest, violently slapping it to help clear your obstructed airways. Yoongi laughs and runs a hand up and down your back in a soothing motion.

“You’re mean,” You croak out once your fit of coughs settles down.

“I’m sorry,” He massages the nape of your neck, dissipating any feeling of annoyance you might’ve had.

You pout. “Better make it up to me then.”

“Anything you want, love.”

"Anything?" You lift a brow and send him a seductive smile, slowly getting up and wrapping your arms around his neck.

Yoongi’s breath hitches in his throat as he lets out a low, rumbly, “Anything.”

You twirl a blond strand of hair between your deft fingers, a wicked grin lifting the corners of your mouth. “Then I want a massage and cuddles.”

Yoongi huffs incredulously and shakes his head, lightly swatting at your ass. “It would be my pleasure.”

He lends you a pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt and you quickly brush your teeth before going to the living room and petting the furry animal, cooing and squealing when it starts purring in content.You then make your way back to Yoongi's room and swiftly slide under the bed’s covers.

Yoongi enters the bathroom and comes out a few minutes later to find you almost passed out, snuggled in his sheets. He slides under the covers next to you and whispers,

“Do you want to go to sleep now, love?”

You shake your head and blink slowly, meeting deep chocolate-like eyes. Even in complete darkness Yoongi looks absolutely stunning, breathtaking, and you feel so fucking fond and grateful to be sharing a bed with him.

“Nuh-uh, you still have to give me a massage.”

“Alright, on your stomach then,” Yoongi chuckles and tucks a strand of hair beneath your ear.

You leisurely comply, and give him an expectant look.

“It would be better if I took off your shirt, but it’s all up to you.”

You nod and send him a small smile, giving him permission.

And so Yoongi sits up straight and starts tugging your shirt off, you help him by lifting your torso and arms up.

Once the garment is off, Yoongi slides his palms up your back with increasing pressure, spurring a satisfied moan out of you.

“Is that enough pressure?” He whispers in a dark, gruff tone, sending shivers up your spine

You barely manage to whisper the next words,

“It’s perfect.”

He continues his ministrations, lingering for a long moment on your shoulders and collarbones, then trailing down to the dip of your back and slowly pressing his thumbs there while you can only let out small mewls of appreciation.

You slowly slip in and out of consciousness, not even noticing that Yoongi has stopped massaging you until he whispers against your ear,

“Time to sleep, angel.”

You groan and begrudgingly sit up, tugging the white t-shirt on before slumping down on your side, facing the opposite way from Yoongi. The latter inches closer and wraps a lazy arm around your waist, pressing himself flush against your back.

“Sweet dreams,” He presses a delicate kiss on your shoulder.

You wiggle in his embrace before slurring out a small,

“Sweet dreams Yoongi.”

You tug nervously at the off-the-shoulder neckline of the emerald green, floor length dress you put on merely a few minutes ago.

It’s 7:04, which means Yoongi is late, and Yoongi is almost never late. Which might mean something happened, but it could also just be your anxiety riddled mind making up scenarios to taunt you.

Nevertheless you can’t tame down the bubbling anxiety rising in your chest.

You’re checking your phone for the upteenth when you hear a slightly reluctant knock at your front door.

You swing it open in a matter of seconds, letting out a shaky breath of relief as soon as you see Yoongi’s soft features.

Your relief is short lived though, because his appearance knocks the air straight out of you.

You grip the doorknob forcefully as you take in the fitted black suit Yoongi is sporting, the white dress shirt and black bow, but most importantly his luscious locks of hair. Because they’re not the light, bleached blond you’ve been drawn to since you’ve met him. No, oh no.

His hair is black.

Jet black, as dark as a raven’s feathers.

And if you thought blond was the best color for Yoongi before, you were not prepared for this one. Because holy shit, he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever been blessed to lay your eyes upon.

The night’s announcing itself to be a long one.

“You look amazing,” Yoongi declares as he tucks his hands in the pockets of his trousers, an awestruck look in his eyes.

“Holy shit,” Is all you manage to say, completely unaware of the compliment he just bestowed upon you.

Yoongi nervously cards a hand through his black hair. “Yeah..”

“Yoongi. Fucking hell. Don’t do that.” Your grip on the door handle strengthens and you take a deep breath, looking anywhere but in his direction.

“Do what?” He scratches his head in confusion, oblivious to your internal struggle.

“Your hair, oh my god.” You snap your gaze up, just now noticing how awkward the man looks standing in the doorway. “Umm, sorry, come in.”

You step out of the way and Yoongi slides in through the threshold, closing the door as you make your way to the closet and take out your winter coat.

“Yeah I was so done with bleaching it, so I just went back to my natural color.”

You hum understandingly and the man leans on the wall, watching you curiously as your shaky hands fumble with the buttons of your black, fake fur coat.

“Do you like it?” He questions, an amused glint to his tone.

You gulp loudly. “Y-yeah I do.”

You curse under your breath as you struggle to button your coat, your mind reeling with thousands of filthy images you try to rid yourself of. Crazy how a simple change of hair color can have such an impact on you.

But you’re only human, and Yoongi clearly is something else, no way a human being is allowed to look like this, like sin incarnated but also a god sent creature. It’s not fucking fair.

Strong, capable hands deftly take a hold of yours and snap the coat’s buttons in place.

“You like it that much?” He chuckles teasingly.

You send a glare his way, only now noticing how close he’s standing. “How fucking dare you look this good in my house, in front of my fake plants nonetheless!”

Yoongi lifts a brow in amusement before taking a hold of your waist and drawing you flush against his broad chest. “What are you gonna do about it?”

You gasp and slap his shoulder. “I can’t with you, I swear to god.”

Yoongi laughs loudly, showing off a heart shattering gummy smile that has your heartbeat picking up at an alarming rate.

“Are you actually mad?” He runs a hand up and down your back. You curse yourself for putting on your winter garment, wanting more than anything to feel his fingers on you.

“Yes, I am! How am I supposed to watch the musical when you look like this?” You pout angrily.

“So dramatic..”

And just like that he stops you from responding by locking his lips onto yours, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss before biting lightly at your bottom lip, tearing a soft whimper out of you.

He slowly backs you up against the wall, using the surprised gasp you emit to slide his tongue against your own, licking languidly and relentlessly as you try to take charge, failing time and time again.

You slide your hand all the way up to the back of his head, tugging lightly at the soft locks of hair, something you’ve been desperate to do since he appeared at your doorstep.

Yoongi emits a deep groan, shivers instantly pricking at your skin despite the warm clothing you’re wearing and you slide your other hand up to the button of his jacket, wanting nothing more than to take it off and feel his warm skin sizzling under your palms.

But he parts from your lips just as your hand reaches the obstructing button and chuckles hoarsely,

“We can’t miss this show, love. Tae would be sad and you’d feel bad.”

“Damn, I hate that you’re right.”

Yoongi rests his forehead against yours and lightly shakes his head. “Believe me, I hate that I am too.”

You stay there, catching your breaths for a few moments before you speak up again,

“Alright let’s go now, otherwise we won’t be leaving tonight.”

You see his jaw twitch as he steps away and takes your hand in his.

“I’m in pain,” He solemnly declares.

You chuckle heartily,

“So dramatic.”

You arrive at the theater a mere thirty-something minutes before the musical Taehyung stars in begins, the billboard announcing ‘Chicago’ in bright capital letters.

You notice Seokjin and Hoseok almost as soon as you make your way in after dropping off your things at coat check.

They’re leaning against a high circular table and chatting, flutes of champagne in hand.

Seokjin speaks first,

“We were starting to wonder if you guys decided to bail on us to go have sex at Yoongi’s place or something.”

You give him a mortified look while Hoseok loudly chortles, gripping his stomach as he does so.

Yoongi lets out a drawn out sigh. “I need a drink.”

Seokjin perks up. “Let me accompany you! There’s a bit of a line.”

He downs his own flute in one gulp as Yoongi sends a pained look your way but follows the older man nonetheless, leaving you and Hoseok alone.

The silence that reigns over the both of you feels awkward and strange. You don’t like it, not one bit.

“How is he?”

You snap your gaze towards the red haired man.

“Who?” You question futilely, already knowing the answer.

Hoseok sighs, a downcast look in his eyes. “Jimin..”

You pick at your nails nervously, unsure if you should be talking about it or not. You ultimately decide it couldn’t hurt to do so.

“I mean.. how do you think? You know him, he’s taking it pretty badly but he wouldn’t talk about it or what really happened. He’s resilient though, he’ll manage.”

“I know.. I’m just-“ He pauses. “I’m just kinda confused and lost right now? I didn’t expect this, at all. And I’ve wanted him to tell me that he loves me for so long, even dreamt about it. But I met Lia a few weeks ago and it’s going well you know? She’s kind and I know exactly what she thinks and where she’s at..”

You didn’t know about any of this. “Lia?”

“Yeah, I met her at a party. You’d like her a lot I think.” He shoots you a half-hearted smile, making your heart sink.

Hoseok doesn’t do half-hearted smiles.

“If you do, I’m sure I would too.”

Hoseok stares at the floor, eyebrows furrowed, like he’s deep in thoughts.

You sigh and ruffle his hair. “Whatever you do, I’ll be happy for you. As long as you know you’re making the right decision for you. Not anyone else.”

Hoseok eyes you almost pleadingly. “But no matter what I do, someone’s going to end up hurting..”

“Yup. That’s just the way things go most of the time.” You try to swallow the uptick of emotions in your throat.

“You’re such a pessimist,” The corner of his eyes crinkle in amusement.

“I have nothing to say in my defense.”

You notice Yoongi and Seokjin coming back your way, holding three flutes of champagne.

You give Hoseok a meaningful look, “Seriously though, think about it. I don’t want you to regret your decision later on, whatever that decision is.”

He nods harshly, just as the two men come up to you. Yoongi hands you a flute.

“Thanks,” You beam at him, touched that he thought to bring you one too.

He snakes an arm around your waist and takes a small sip of the bubbly drink. “Of course.”

“So, what role is Taehyung playing anyway?” Hoseok asks.

You perk up, excited about your friend’s upcoming performance. “Roxie! It’s a gender swapped reinterpretation of Chicago.”

“Damn, he basically got the lead role.” Yoongi whistles, impressed.

You preen with pride for your friend.

“He did,” Seokjin confirms in an adoring tone.

“Sweet!” Hoseok exclaims, drawing in a few pair of curious eyes.

You all drink your flutes pretty quickly and make a stop at the restroom before heading inside the theater and taking your seats.

You sit at the end of the row, Yoongi directly to your left, then followed by Hoseok and Seokjin. You apply a thin layer of lip gloss before tucking the stick back into your purse, only then noticing Yoongi eyeing you, indecipherable emotions swimming in his dark orbs.

You lean closer and lay a hand on his thigh,

“Something on my face?”

Yoongi snorts. “Anything I could answer to that would be corny as fuck.”

You feel your face heat up and look down bashfully.

“Hey,” He lifts your chin up with his index finger. “I didn’t say I was done looking.”

“Oh my god Yoongi, stop.” You squeeze his thigh in warning, very thankful for the low lighting, otherwise you’re positive he would notice the bright red tint spreading all over your face.

“Cute,” He coos softly, caressing your cheek gently before draping his arm around your shoulders, you lean onto him .

The musical soon starts, and it’s absolutely mind blowing. You don’t remember ever seeing something quite like it. Taehyung adds a lot of flair to it, and you might’ve seen him in other plays before, but this takes home the cake, in your opinion at least. Because he owns the stage, the role, the songs.

He is the role.

But as much as you try to stay focused, you can’t help but let yourself peer at Yoongi from time to time, getting caught up in the way the light illuminating the stage creates all sorts of shapes and shadows upon his hypnotizing features.

He’s fucking stunning.

You leave your hand on his thigh all throughout the show, rubbing slow circles on his knee with your dainty thumb.

And you’re acutely aware of the occasional shivers coursing through Yoongi as you sometimes let your hand wander a bit further up his thigh, notice the way his jaw ticks when you lightly squeeze the muscular limb. You also notice how your heartbeat picks up its pace the longer you keep testing the man’s patience, as if maybe your little teasing might have even more of an effect on you than on him.

When the last musical number starts, you let your hand venture even further up, your fingers now almost reaching the place you want them to reach the most.

You feel Yoongi‘s muscle strain, almost missing the low groan that reverberates through him when he forcefully grabs your wrist in warning, which automatically sends a rush of heat through your whole body.

You chance a glance at his tense features, his clenched jaw, his eyes staring intently at the stage, and almost pout when he doesn’t give you any attention, simply keeping his steady and forcefull hold on your wrist, making it impossible for you to move your hand in any way.

The play soon ends and you all get up, Yoongi lets go of your wrist to applaud and once he’s done, he gets a hold of your hand and interwines your fingers, sending you a dark menacing look as he does so.

The four of you quickly make your way to the front hall and you text your friend.

my queen [10:43]: we’re waiting for you in the front hall! you were fucking incredible tae omg

You feel Yoongi’s hold on your hand strengthen as you wait for a reply.

Taebear [10:45]: be there in 15, gotta wait for ppl to leave

And so you all wait, eagerly discussing and praising your friend’s performance and the musical as a whole between the four of you.

Time goes by so quickly that you yelp in surprise when you notice your best friend making his way towards your group.

“Tae oh my fucking god!” You let go of Yoongi’s hand and run into Taehyung’s arms. “You were unreal up there.”

You part from him to let everyone congratulate his performance, Hoseok clapping excitedly and crushing him into a fierce hug while Yoongi simply pats him on the shoulder.

“You were born to be on stage sweetie,” Seokjin approaches him and lays a passionate kiss on the younger man’s lips.

They exchange a few words before Taehyung addresses you, his head laying on Seokjin’s large shoulders,

“I know we planned to go somewhere after this but I’m officially drained. Rain check? Y’all still owe me a celebratory meal.”

You snort loudly. “All good babe. Go rest, you need it.”

Hoseok ruffles Seokjin’s hair. “Can I catch a ride with you?”

“As long as you never, ever, touch my hair again, yes.”

Taehyung chuckles airily, an endeared boxy grin etched upon his face as he glances adoringly at the older man.

And so you all say goodbye and head towards your respective cars. You slump down the passenger side’s seat and tug your coat off, waiting for Yoongi to start the ignition.

He drives out of the parking lot and onto the highway, glancing at you from time to time, not saying a single word. You feel anxiety bubbling up your chest and decide to break the tense silence,

“Are you dropping me off at home?”

Yoongi chuckles almost menacingly. “Oh no, we’re sleeping at my place tonight.”

“Umm.. since when?” You give him a quizzical look.

He clenches his jaw before replying,

“Since you decided to play a game you know you can’t win.”

Oh.

You slide a hand up his thigh, your fingers brushing over his crotch, and relish in the sharp intake of air that reaches your ears.

“What game?” You tease.

“Angel,” Yoongi rasps through gritted teeth, his hands gripping the wheel so forcefully that his knuckles turn white.

And you might be liking this a bit too much, but it’s way too fun to stop now.

So you repeat the motion, sliding your hand up and down his thigh, brushing over his crotch again.

“Yes?” You flutter your eyelashes innocently.

You barely even notice Yoongi taking the next exit and driving down small deserted streets until the car stops in a small parking lot next to the water.

You don’t recognize the public park in which you now find yourself in.

“Uh, Yoongi? This isn’t your place as far as I know.”

The man lowers the backrest of the car seat to a more comfortable position, unfastens his seatbelt and grabs your hand, pushing it against the growing tent in his trousers, electrifying arousal growing sharply in your abdomen as he does so.

“Well, it seems like you couldn’t wait to be home to act like a brat. So go ahead, do what you want.”

You swallow thickly. “Here? What if someone walks past us?”

Yoongi smirks and closes his eyes before bringing his arms up and slipping his hands behind his head. “Didn’t seem to bother you one bit earlier.”

And maybe it shouldn’t, but the thought of maybe getting caught, coupled with the alluring confidence emanating from Yoongi casts a hazy cloud in your mind, making you want to please the man more than anything in the world.

And so you unfasten your seatbelt and lift your skirt up to straddle the man easily. But he stops you before you can climb him,

“No.”

You stare at him in sheer confusion.

“That’s not what you were trying to do earlier. Use your hands angel, then we’ll see if you deserve more.”

You all but shudder and nod weakly. Yoongi might’ve been a bit dominating before, but it was nothing compared to this. The confident, authoritative glint in his voice sends your mind into a frenzy, you want to get to know this side of him better.

He quirks a brow at you and closes his eyes again,

“Well?”

You snake a trembling hand up to the zipper of his trousers, struggling a bit before sliding it all the way down. You can feel how aroused he is, how hard his thick, warm length feels under the thin material of his underwear. It gives you a major boost of confidence, knowing how eager Yoongi actually is to feel you.

“Can you um..lift your hips,” You bashfully ask.

Yoongi blinks and chuckles amusedly before lifting his hips up and tugging his boxers and trousers halfway down, liberating his warm cock from the confines of his clothes.

He watches carefully as you bring a hand up to your mouth and spit on it, his eyes darkening as soon as the thick saliva trickles down your palm.

His gaze only falters for a few seconds when you wrap your hand around him, and focuses again as soon as you start pumping him in slow, drawn out motions.

He stays silent, though immensely focused when you start going faster, swirling your wrist from time to time and applying a little more pressure when you reach his reddened tip, only to dive down again and again.

His ragged breathing is the only thing that cues you in on how much he’s actually enjoying this and so, you ask with a tiny, shaky voice,

“Can I umm..”

The words don't come out. It’s not that you’re shy about doing it, It just feels weird to say out loud.

“Can you what?” He asks with a gravely low voice that sends a wave of shivers up your spine.

You look at him with pleading eyes as you continue sliding your hand up and down his length. Yoongi simply quirks a brow at you, refusing you mercy.

“Can you what, love?”

You take a shallow breath and whisper,

“Can I suck you off?”

You can almost sense the moment he breaks, it feels like the air inside the small car gets even more suffocating, making you lightheaded.

“Fuck, yeah, go on.”

A pleasurable knot forms itself in your stomach as you eagerly dive down to leave a teasing lick on the tip of Yoongi’s cock, the salty taste of precum coating your tongue deliciously.

You flick your tongue against the slit of his girth, smirking when you feel Yoongi jolt and moan quietly. He pushes away the strands of hair dangling in front of your eyes and grabs the rest of your hair in a messy bun, holding it in a firm but gentle grip.

He groans lowly when you slowly wrap your lips around him and slide down his length, pressing your tongue along his frenulum as you do so, and repeat the motion a few times, hollowing your cheeks to coax as much pleasure as you possibly can out of him.

You come up for air for a few seconds before spitting on his cock and taking him back in your mouth, feeling every protruding vein on his thick member as you swirl your tongue around it. You rapidly pick up a faster pace, bobbing your head up and down as you hear a myriad of curses escape Yoongi’s lips.

It only makes you grow bolder and bolder and so you dive down lower, only stopping when your nose brushes against soft skin. You gag lightly and repeat the motion a second time, to the man’s greatest pleasure, if his choked guttural groan is anything to go by.

As soon as the tip of his thick length hits the back of your throat, you feel Yoongi bucking his hips forward, making you gag and cough loudly around him, saliva trickling down your mouth filthily.

“Fuck I’m so sorry,” He tugs on your hair and lifts you up, the sharp sting sending a shock of pleasure through you.

You gasp for air and feel drool sliding along your throat, all the way down to the neckline of your dress, a few teardrops escaping your eyes.

“It’s ok.. I like it,” You rasp out as soon as you can breathe somewhat normally.

Yoongi groans. “Fucking hell, yeah? You like choking on my cock, angel?”

You mewl in response, feeling a familiar wetness in between your legs slowly spreading to the inside of your thighs.

“Can I fuck your mouth, mmhm? Can you do that for me?” He tilts your head upwards and brings you closer, his face now a few inches away from yours.

You nod frantically, more than excited by the prospect of Yoongi fucking into your mouth aggressively, using you as he pleases to get himself off. There’s nothing quite as tempting in the whole world. At least at this moment.

“You sure?” He wipes drool off your chin and gently strokes your flushed cheek with the back of his hand.

“Yes, please..”

“Begging to choke on my cock, for fuck’s sake.”

Yoongi bruisingly crashes his lips onto yours and devours your mouth with unbridled passion, instantly and greedily swallowing your whimpers as they reach your throat.

He disconnects your mouths and breathes out unevenly. “You ready?”

You nod eagerly and Yoongi guides you back to his painfully hard erection. You instantly wrap your lips around him, sighing in relief as soon as you do.

He growls mutedly. “Squeeze my thigh if you ever feel uncomfortable and want me to stop, ok angel?”

You hum and tantalizingly lick the side of his length, which only makes him tighten his hold on your hair.

He starts bucking his hips forward, and it’s slow at first, as he drags the tip of his erection against your warm tongue numerous times. But he soon picks up his pace, snapping in and out of your mouth rapidly before engulfing himself far down your tight throat, only stopping when he hears you gagging around him.

Then he picks up an unhurried pace again and alternates between slow and fast, aggressive and gentle. You feel dizzy and completely fucked out, your underwear completely ruined by sheer arousal. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life.

You squeal in surprise when Yoongi lifts you up swiftly and kisses you feverishly, as if trying to taste each and every corner of your mouth with the help of his skilled tongue.

A thick trail of saliva connects both of your mouths when you part for air. Yoongi cups your cheeks and leaves a soft peck on your swollen lips, it has you seeing stars, your heart growing bigger in size at the care he exudes through his actions.

“Such a good girl for me.”

You smile shyly at him and nuzzle the tip of his nose, pride blooming in your chest as you realize how good you’ve made him feel.

“Come here angel.”

He skirts your dress up to your hip bones and helps you straddle him, holding you in place as you settle somewhat comfortably on his lap. Your legs tremble furiously when you try to hold yourself up and you whine pitifully.

“Yoongi, I don’t think I can move my legs for long.”

He leaves a sweet peck on your lips before murmuring,

“I got you.”

Your heart soars as his words register and you dive down to the crook of his neck, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses as you get rid of the bow around his collar.

When the accessory is finally off, you leisurely unbutton his dress shirt, your fingers lingering longingly on the small expanse of his chest, now available to your rapacious hands.

You're thrown off guard when Yoongi drags the tip of his fingers against your covered core, spurring light jolts out of you as he teases you mercilessly for a few interminable seconds.

“Yoongi, please, I need you..” You sob out, your legs now shaking uncontrollably.

“Just-, Give me a minute to make sure I don’t hurt you alright?”

“But I’m ready, please.” You plead brokenly, completely unbothered by how fucking needy you sound.

He takes a deep inhale, holding your waist with one hand before pushing your underwear aside and sliding two digits into you, his fingers meeting no resistance whatsoever.

You moan softly, and you think you could come just like this with how fucking aroused you are.

“Fuck, you are ready.”

Yoongi thrusts his fingers in and out of you, dragging them along your walls before slipping them out of you, much to your disappointment.

You whine and pout deeply. “I told you.”

“I know baby,” He soothes as he lightly slaps your cunt, making you shudder in his hold.

He grips his own veiny girth, pumping it a few times while simultaneously holding your panties to the side before aligning himself with your entrance.

Your pout slowly morphs into a gasp when you feel his throbbing length sliding into you in one smooth motion, stretching you nicely around its circumference.

“Oh fuck,” You harshly breathe out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head before coming back to focus on Yoongi’s.

The black haired man brings one hand to your hip and the other up to your throat, squeezing lightly as he steadily holds your gaze, burning lava swimming in his dark brown orbs.

And that’s exactly how your whole body feels as Yoongi picks up a long languorous pace. Like lava, malleable, pliant and hot to the touch, like the only thing capable of laying a hand upon you would have to be something equally fiery.

You always thought that Yoongi shared a lot of similarities with burning coal. Intoxicating, warm. Like if he wanted to, he could make you burn alongside him.

Though, if you’re being honest, you think you’ve been burning for quite some time.

You snap out of a daze like state when you feel Yoongi’s grip on your throat tightening and mewl loudly as he starts rapidly thrusting into you. He swirls his hips up and down and you can only hold on to his broad shoulders, gripping so harshly you might have left marks if it wasn’t for the jacket that the man hadn’t bothered to shrug off.

Then he slows down again, his shallow breath fanning over your face over and over again as you peer deep in his eyes, the knot in your abdomen tightening exponentially with every sharp thrust of his hips.

You feel deft fingers crawling down your side, unzipping your dress in one quick motion before they tug the upper part of the garment down, your breast now bouncing up and down as Yoongi keeps fucking into you.

He tweaks one of your pert nipples and latches his mouth on the other one, flicking and nibbling teasingly at it while you can only shiver in pure ecstasy.

A wanton moan slips past your throat when he suddenly picks up an unrelenting pace and you instinctively arch your back, deepening the angle at which he rams into you at full speed.

“Yoongi..” You whimper, bringing your forehead against his and the man soon cradles the side of your face.

“Y-yeah?” He chokes out unevenly.

Your vision focuses onto him as the rest grows blurry, you feel your orgasm at the tip of your fingers, tingling all over the extremities of your limbs, like a dam ready to burst at any moment.

“Don’t stop, fuck-“

Your head falls down on his shoulder and your peak washes over you in overwhelming waves, blinding you for a few moments as you hold onto his strong frame for dear life. You convulse and pulse steadily around him, clenching and unclenching while he continues his ministrations, his cock throbbing around your swollen folds.

“Babe-“ Yoongi starts, out of breath. “You need to get off, I’m gonna cum-” He rasps out, sinking his nails into the supple skin of your thigh.

And so you muster all the strength you can gather and lift your hips up, setting them back down as soon as you feel him slip out, much to your dismay.

He tries to grip himself but you beat him to it, pumping his veiny length fast and hard as Yoongi moans hoarsely and comes undone, spilling all over your hand in thick spurts of unrestrained pleasure.

You look into his eyes and bring your sticky hand up, licking away all traces of his white release while thoroughly maintaining eye contact. Yoongi stares at you with his mouth agape, breathing heavily and swallowing thickly.

“What are you doing to me,” He blinks and cards a trembling hand through his jet black hair, the other one softly caressing your bruised thigh.

“And what are you doing to-“ You abruptly stop, noticing light coming your way through the fogged up window. “Holy shit, someone’s coming!”

Yoongi sends you an alarmed look and lowers the backrest of his seat all the way down, making you lose your balance. You plant your hands on both sides of his body to try not to crush him under your weight and hide your face against his chest.

“Are they close,” He whispers as he tries to cover your bare ass by laying a coat on top of your frame.

You roll your eyes against closed eyelids,

“I don’t know, I’d have to be able to see to tell you that.”

Yoongi swallows down a chuckle. “Fair enough.”

“Shhhh!” You whisper aggressively.

You both stay silent for a minute or two, your heart rates picking up when the light gets so close you can see it behind closed eyelids. But no one comes knocking on the window, and after a minute or two you lift your head up and tentatively take a peek outside.

“Oh my fucking god it was the cops, they didn’t see us,” You clasp a hand over your mouth and look at Yoongi with a mortified expression. “Can you imagine if they got here a few minutes ago.”

He glances at you with wide eyes before bursting into laughter, a wide grin appearing on his face. And you can’t help but follow suit, throwing yourself back against his chest as you both giggle endlessly.

“Oh shit, that was such a close call,” He wipes at the corner of his eyes.

You slap his chest playfully. “What a bad idea.”

“You weren’t complaining earlier,” He teases as he pulls your dress up and zips it back up, taking the opportunity to draw shapes along the expanse of your collarbone.

You lay a long, soft kiss upon his pillowy lips, sinking into his hold for a few moments before murmuring against his lips,

“Let’s go home before someone else comes, yeah?”

And he gives you such a tender look that you can’t help but feel so many things, things you don’t want to feel, things you’re scared of and can’t even mention out loud.

But you feel them still, simmering in your stomach comfortingly despite the terror lurking in your mind like a shadow.

“Yeah, let’s.”

“How are we this late?”

Yoongi shoots you an unimpressed look.

“We’re late because someone decided to lay on the ground and cuddle Cat for at least a good ten minutes.”

“Hey!” You yelp indignantly. “Cat looked like it needed cuddles.”

Yoongi slips his hand in yours as you both walk rapidly towards the bar’s main entrance.

“Cat always needs cuddles.”

“Ooo, reminds me of someone.”

The look of disgust on Yoongi’s face sends you into a raucous fit of laughter.

“Says you.”

You click your tongue, “Oh but I’m not afraid to admit it. You, on the other hand, will pretend you don’t want cuddles and affection, but you so do.”

“I’m leaving you on the side of the road tonight,” He deadpans, letting go of your hand and walking faster ahead.

“That’s mean!” You holler and quicken your pace, grabbing his arm and leaning your head on his shoulder as the man wraps an arm around your waist.

You stop just a few feet away from the door and tug on his arm. “Yoongi.”

“What is it?” He lifts his hand up to your cheek, carefully cradling it.

“Kiss me?” You give him your best puppy eyes.

Yoongi rolls his eyes but still leans down to lay a chaste (but fatal nonetheless) kiss upon your lips, stroking your cold cheek with the back of his thumb as he does so.

You chase after his plush lips once he parts from you, earning you a low chuckle from the object of your affection, “Greedy.”

You pout, “So what.”

The barman shakes his head fondly. “Nothing, you’re just cute.”

“Well-,”

“You guys coming in or?”

You both simultaneously turn towards the disruption, annoyed, just then noticing Namjoon holding the door open from the inside of the establishment.

The doorman shrugs and gives you a dimpled smile. “It’s freezing, I’m not gonna hold it forever.”

“Yeah we’re coming,” Yoongi mumbles as he slips his hand in yours and walks through the threshold.

You follow him as he steps up the stairs, an impish smile on your lips. “You’re holding my hand again.”

He gives you a questioning look. “So what?”

“You and Cat share a lot of traits, that’s all.”

“Oh fucking hell.”

Saturday night ends up being a pretty busy night, as usual, and so, time goes by so fast you barely have time to blink before the night is over.

You’re probing through your purse in the employees lounge when Yoongi’s voice reaches your ears, making you still in your movements instantly.

“I mean what do you want me to say Joon? I thought it might’ve been something special, but turns out it was only physical attraction and sex. I realized that not too long ago.” He sighs. “I feel fucking awful, but it is what it is.”

And if you thought you’d known heartbreak before, nothing could prepare you for the painful manner in which your stomach churns as Yoongi’s words sink in, or the way your heart feels like it’s been ripped from your chest, only to be aggressively stepped on again and again.

You don’t understand, can’t comprehend, how Yoongi can act the way he does when he’s with you, only to then say that the connection you share is merely physical, replaceable.

You fight back tears as you make your way behind the bar, staring intently at the back of Yoongi’s black head of hair.

“I mean it can be pretty hard to tell the difference between lust and love, I get it. They’re both so intertwined together most of the time.” Namjoon explains matter-of-factly.

“I mean what I did still sucks-“

“Yoongi..” You croak out, trying to the best of your abilities to keep it together, though you feel like you probably won’t succeed in doing so.

Both men turn around and look at you in surprise.

“I thought-“ Your voice cracks under the weight of overwhelming emotions tearing through your chest and up your throat.

You feel like throwing up, actually throwing up.

Yoongi’s surprised expression morphs into one of immense concern, he furrows his brows and steps closer.

“What’s going on?” He asks with urgency.

You shake your head frantically and step backwards as a teardrop rolls down your cheek treacherously. “I thought-“ You stop again.

“I don’t.. I don’t know what I thought, it clearly doesn’t matter.” You turn on your heels and head back to the employees lounge, taking your purse and coat as Yoongi follows you and grabs your elbow, making you swivel around in a dizzying motion.

“Talk to me angel, what’s happening? What are you talking about? You’re scaring me..”

“Yeah well, maybe if you told me I was only a good fuck from the moment you figured it out, we wouldn’t be here right now.” You sneer angrily, hurt and shame engulfing you in a red fog of anger

Yoongi’s eyes widen. “Woah, what are you talking about? I’m confused as fuck.”

“So am I! I can’t talk to you right now Yoongi, I’ll take a cab home.”

You shrug his hands off and storm out of the lounge, not even noticing your friends' shocked stares as you almost run to the exit, too ashamed by your emotions to let them see you like this.

Swinging the door open, you step down the street, only stopping in your tracks once you remember your car isn’t here and you need to order a cab.

And so you open the uber app and book a ride, ignoring a notification from Jimin as the screen informs you that your driver should be here in five minutes. You exhale sharply and close your eyes, reminding yourself to take deep breaths.

Your heart almost leaps out of your chest when you hear a door being thrown open and footsteps inching closer to you.

“Angel what the fuck is going on, talk to me. I don’t understand, fuck, you know I don’t see you as just a good fuck I-“ Yoongi’s pleading voice tugs viciously at your heartstrings, tears now streaming down your face in an unrestrained manner.

“I heard you talking to Namjoon just now, Yoongi..” You hiccup brokenly.

Yoongi cups your face delicately and you avoid his troubled gaze, opting to look at the ground instead.

There’s a thin layer of snow glistening on the concrete. You hadn’t even noticed it had been snowing until now.

“Look at me please.”

You shake your head no, knowing you would probably break down and full on sob if you did.

He brings his forehead against yours, his hold on both sides of your face steady and so comforting it only amplifies your confused state.

“Look at me..”

And you can’t ignore the way his voice breaks, so you sniffle loudly and slowly lift your gaze up, meeting teary dark pools of gloom as you do.

“I wasn’t talking about you just now, Namjoon-ah asked about Sam.. You know I think so much more of you, why would you even think I’d treat you like this..”

A sob racks through your whole being as you shakily exhale and squeeze your eyes shut. “I didn’t- I’m sorry I just assumed the worst I-“

“Shhh, hey, it’s ok.”

“But it’s not ok Yoongi.” You blink a few tears away and hold his gaze. “You give me absolutely no reason to doubt you, and yet.”

You inhale deeply before speaking again, your voice tiny and feeble, unfamiliar to your own ears,

“How is this supposed to work -us- if I can’t bring myself to trust you?”

“Woah, what are you even saying? We’ll figure it out.” Yoongi soothes, a hint of anxiousness in his warm tone.

“No, you’re not listening. You deserve better than this, than me.”

“That’s not true.”

Yoongi’s eyes glisten with unshed tears and you just know, at that exact moment, that you really do not deserve him. Because anybody responsible for this man’s tears and pain isn’t deserving of him, plain and simple.

A black car enters your field of view and halts in front of the bar’s facade, a few meters away from you and Yoongi. You recognize the little taxi sign on top of it.

“My cab is here,” You whisper, as you peck his cheek one last time and start heading towards the cab, walking away from a dejected Yoongi with a numb mind and shattered heart.

You want to go back to his arms, let yourself be happy and content in his secure hold. But you can’t, because you feel so much for him, too much. Too much love, admiration and affection, and you can’t hold him back.

You won’t.

a/n: im not crying it’s fine, we’re good. ok ok.. I’m sorry, I love you<3 as always your feedback and comments are ALWAYS appreciated, thank you<3

// to be added to the sunrises & liquor tag list click right here and interact with the taglist post, thank you for reading <3

taglist: @knapris @tarahardcore @tea4sykes @bonitaangel @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @princesspiineapple @funkylittlebisexuall @kikaninchen-2 @diorjgguk @purplelo @lil6nmrll @perfect-bae @bxcndd @funsizemarsbar92 @kookoo-kachoo @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @glowunderthemoon @idkjustlovingbts @minijagiya @bwormie @fragmentof-indifference

104 notes · View notes

hopelesslyromanticshark · 1 month

Note

oh wait i wish you could respond to my tags too but it’s really hard to make it work with the whole side blog thing but just know that i’m happy they make you happy 🫶 and i really do adore the new erebus child headcanons they’re so so lovely and cute (i’m such a sucker for a night god/goddess)

also do you have any music recs? i’m trying to branch out and listen to new things.

- 🍓

of course!! (im scared of the dark but glad there's more darkness for you to enjoy 🫡🫡🫡)

MUSIC RECS FOR EVERY KINDA VIBE YOU COULD EVER WANT OKAY OKAY LETS GO

i will ALWAYS suggest noah kahan. my baby got it all, he got da upbeat (northern attitude and dial drunk), he got da angst (any other song on that album), he got da folk (any other song on that album pt ii) he got it all. trust in noah kahan and he will trust in you frfr

ummm what always gets me writing is some good ol' hozier. fan fav ig, he also got it all like my boy noah boah

can never got wrong with a little (a lot) of phoebe bridgers or boygenius, my grammy babies.

OH speaking of grammys, SZA eats every time. trust OH and while we on the rap-ish music, you gotta give my boy tyler the creator a try pls so so good

SAMIA MY BABY GIRL SHE WAS THE OPENER FOR MY NOAH KAHAN SHOW AND I CRIED LIKE A BABY BC SHE SANG A SONG THAT REMINDED ME THAT I WILL ALWAYS BE MORE SUCCESSFUL THAN MY EX, WHO CAN GO ROT

"die your daugther" and 'your mother's name' by susannah joffe are just so daughter of poseidon dying know she's not the favorite coded (whatttttt that's awfully specfic crazyyyyyyyyyyy)

solo by frank ocean is a no skip song. ever. could be dying and would let it finish playing before i call 911

AND MITSKI MY LOVE MY BABY SINCE SOPHOMORE YEAR KISSES TO MY GIRLLLLLL

okay ill stfu that'll last you a year, have fun!!

#return to sender ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ

6 notes · View notes

lincolndjarin · 8 months

Text

BKS ✦ notes & bts : chapters 6-15

spoilers for chapter 6-15 of Best Kept Secret!!

✦

a/n :

lumped all these chapters together because the majority of my digital notes will pick up at 18 and all my on paper notes go in a different direction so this little bts section will be mostly alternate plot lines!!

general writing experience with this section :

so there will be a much more in-depth look be a at this in the notes section but originally everything after chapter nine was different. I never actually planned on there being a breakup arc, there was just going to be a different arc based on the rules that would lead into the final arc (which i will not be discussing lol) but basically what happened was i realized that there would be like a billion filler chapters with that outline and also no conflict for over 10 episodes. another big part of the original outline was that Din would have wanted exclusivity and a public relationship which i quickly realized just wasn't really in character for the version of din that i was building so i decided it needed to be changed which led to the breakup arc.

music :

i had a set list of songs that i listened to while working on these chapters, i never made a playlist but here are a few that i remember!

writing chapter 6-9 :

P power (feat. Drake) - Gunna, Drake

Pyramids - Frank Ocean

DOGTOOTH - Tyler, The Creator

Monster - Lady Gaga

She - Tyler, The Creator

SLUT ME OUT - NLE Choppa

writing chapters 10-15 :

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? - Tyler, The Creator

See You Again (feat. Kali Uchis) - Tyler, The Creator, Kali Uchis

All I Wanted - Paramore

Honeymoon - Lana Del Rey

What About Us - Duomo

i love you - Billie Eilish

inspirations :

this is a lot of the stuff i've previously mentioned, most of readers solitude is based on charlotte from queen charlotte, i do also base a lot of her character from here on out on catherine from the great. when he starts getting more and more reluctant i base him more on edward cullen than ever before lol

notes :

i knew that there were going to specifically be two big reveal moments, one in the gardens and one at the ball. in the end i postponed both and saved them for the same chapter and ended up just having her invite him in. had them have their anthony and kate moment in chapter four and didn't have it become a sex scene until a chapter six.

i will dive more into the garden scene when i do my notes on chapter sixteen but the original dialogue from sixteen was moved to be in six.

it's not featured in the notes but at one point i had considered having their first time be in the gardens like up against a tree lmao, but it was right around these chapters where i wanted dins character to be a specific way and that version of din wouldn't want their first time to be against a tree lol.

and as for the dialogue during their first time as you can see that pretty much stayed the same except for the beginning bit which i decided was too derivative of queen charlotte.

in another version of the fic there wasn't even a sex scene in six. in the original version when she asked him to come in he was going to say no, or come in and not have sex with her. (when it came down to it i realized that din viewed himself as weak and not just someone who was in love, and wouldn't be able to resist the offer) so instead the ball was going to be in chapter seven and that night was going to be when the first hooked up (the ball ended up being moved once i decided to write the break up) there was going to be a modiste chapter where they recreated her dream from chapter three, instead i put that scene into six in a different context and seven was going to be the first time chapter and also the rules chapter.

eventually i just tabled the entire ball idea and went with my gut, deeming six the first time chapter and seven the rules chapter.

censored spoilers lol but i knew i wanted a scene where he ate her out in the library under her dress lmao even though that doesn't happen for a bit but here's a really shitty drawing of the necklace he got he as i imagine it

here are the solar market notes!! a few things ended up being different specifically because i hadn't realized that i was going to have solar & lunar markets when i first wrote these notes but it eventually took shape and the dialogue stayed mostly the same.

this is the library sex scene chapter (definitely one of my favorite sex scenes to write. just really fun lmao.)

this is where my. notes are just a completely different timeline. basically in my original notes the ten chapters following the breaking of the rules were pretty much going to be them going through individually and breaking each one. (not the consent one lmao except maybe in like a non sexual sense i was going to have them fight but that never happened so its irrelevant. the other option was going to be like a sexy role play thing as listed where they played hide and seek (which they might still do whoops) this entire section was scrapped which is why there aren't really notes on it but most of this stuff listed ended up happening. also elaine was like super irrelevant in this version lmao i really liked this idea but honestly it just wasnt sustainable and without conflict wouldn't have been interesting

the tenth rule break was going to be the love confession which would send us into the final arch but this became irrelevant bc i went in another direction but look at how pretty my arc three page was LMAO also there's the messy timeline i made when i was changing the order of things

here's just a shit ton of notes that did happen although these are scrambled and a few details were changed in the final cut!!

dresses :

and lastly here are the dresses i used as inspo for these chapters!

chapter six :

reader was crazy for this but like def something like this for this chapter like no wonder din went nuts for it lmaoo

chapter eight :

something like these! pretty purple gowns with skirts that aren't too puffy and a grey half cloak

chapter nine :

this sort of pretty lighter green for this fun library sex chapter >:) also this is one of my favs, it's simpler but i adore it

chapter ten :

something along these lines but more satiny for the fit she bought at the markets, just pretty and green :)

chapter twelve :

this is a little too blue but basically this

chapter fifteen :

this is like... super fucking extravagant but i love this dress as a sort of base for what fifteens might have looked like. flowy, pretty sort of thing

this was a long one note wide i hope yall enjoyed!!

#lincolndjarin #best kept secret #the mandalorian

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greyeyedmonster-18 · 4 months

Note

27 & 30 for ao3 wrapped <3

thank you

27) What do you listen to while writing?

ooooh. well, while writing clear eyes this year, i usually had Friday Night Lights playing in the background (very method) of me, so I could stay in the zone with the vibes and everything.

But otherwise, here are some of my fav albums from this past year that have been the soundtrack to my writing

-Snow Angel//Renee Rapp

-The Show//Niall Horan

-GUTS//Olivia Rodrigo

-taylor swift.

-frank ocean

30) Biggest surprise while writing this year?

i think this year, its been surprising as I've continued to write fic and make these stories about silly little guys, how much the desire to venture away and move towards OG fic is? and as much as I've written, I've spent more time this year learning about writing itself and more time reading.

but also, surprised i actually wrote this year at all lol

AO3 wrapped ask game!

#ask game #ao3 wrapped

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magpiesbones · 1 year

Note

I was struggling to pick just one question or fic, so: 9 for All the By and By, 3 for Schwarschild Radius, and 13 for German College!!

9. Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

No lol this is probably the fic I’ve edited the least. It DID have three alternate titles, how long you sit alone (before you stop looking back) and or that I love you (still) from the same song, or until the morning we’re young (the night is also a grave we climb out of) from ‘Because it’s summer’ by Ocean Vuong which I was worried would be too pretentious but I do kinda wish I’d gone with it.

3. what’s your favorite line of narration?

I’m very fond of the boba scene but tbh I really like “Olruggio remembered Qifrey standing, embarrassed, in the middle of a dropped bowl of popcorn, not even a day ago. That was how he felt: like he had lost his grip, and dropped something, except instead of a cheap ceramic bowl full of popcorn, it was something irreparably precious— a sculpture, a chandelier, a Chihuly, maybe.” It was,, very fun to write

13. What music did you listen to/do you have recommendations for music to listen to while reading?

oh do I ever. I made a playlist for this fic. It is not in any particular order though lol and half the songs are inside jokes with myself.

house of memories— p!atd (obviously, it’s the chapter titles)

I’ll say I’m sorry now— Shawn Colvin

Grace— Florence and the machine

no light no light— florence

I’m not calling you a liar— florence

hurricane drunk— florence (I feel like you can probably tell my music preferences lmao)

If looks could kill— heart

許 (forgiveness)— 4s4ki

Blackbird— Sarah mclachlan

Get better— frank turner

hiding— florence (again)

Autoclave— mountain goats

Ghost— indigo girls

Scarborough Fair— Celtic Woman (but like. it’s a folk song)

Promises— the cranberries

Haunted— when in rome ii

Missing— evanescence (I think it’s incredibly funny to have an evanescence song in a fic playlist)

it’s okay I wouldn’t remember me either— crywank (get it? sorry)

Leave me alone— the corrs

my grand plan— the lightning thief musical

#witch hat #my fic #i don’t know how to do read more and where I have the playlist is not one that I can just link here so. my apologies for that #I did just sort of throw all the by and by out there I don’t beta but that’s the fic that that I feel most should have maybe. been betaed

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booksnthoughtskvl3005 · 2 years

Text

An Unrevised Excerpt from “The Little Black Notebook” by KVL3005

Chapter 2: Pink Sky

April 27th,

Finally getting started on my research paper for my Michigan History Course, one that I had months to prepare for. I was very confident in my abilities to crank out an “A” paper last minute, as I’ve done it countless times before. The finest mindset of a procrastinator or maybe that of a person who’s too deep into the delusions that he processes an intellectual prowess, which ranged far greater than any of his peers … maybe both...

Spoiler ALERT!- He didn’t do well.

I took the liberty to take a drive out to Holland, hoping to make the experience of writing this dreaded piece paper a tad bit more pleasant. It did but not by much. Holland has the last few remnants of this so-called “Pure Michigan”. One consists of picturesque dunes and miles of soft-sanded yellow beaches running along the shorelines of Lake Michigan. The few places in the state where industries still remained prominent. I do love the smells of tulips blossoming in the spring, that's what they’re most known for nowadays, aside from their mostly homogenous Dutch population.

Parked my car within Holland State Park; reading a book and listening to Frank Ocean while the sun began to set is one of life’s greatest pleasures. That I can assure you. It’s been a long since I got some sort of joy from reading. It’s me being a history major to blame. Days after days of reading monotone texts follows by important dates and events. The tedium of it all kills any pleasures it may bring. The book I’m currently reading has been sitting on my shelf for months now. Must be a joyous occasion, for it finally gets to serve its only function, after months of neglect. what is my purpose? an existentialist question that is only defined within the boundaries of oneself. Boundaries that constantly get defined and redefine. A repeating cycle that I must get out of to truly be free.

-Do you blame the book for being narrowed in purpose or do you blame the person for not reading it?

Only one is in control and surely is it not I.

It is especially cloudy today; somehow the sun still manages to creep through the cracks. One big line of lights, diffusing into a pink-ish hue, stretching into the horizons. Fighting to stay afloat as if it never going to rise again, staying in the twilight-simply mesmerizing. Somebody I once knew told me this “ At the end of the sunset, that’s when the sky is the prettiest[..] but people always start to leave before that”. She did not or rather could not comprehend that. Admittedly, I was within the majority before I met her. She would be alone, parked in her car at the beach for hours, and would be the last one to leave. Only now I’ve come to an understanding of it, and maybe in some ways an understanding of her. To not be the subject of time, one that is bound to us at the moment we were born. An abstract concept invented by humans but one that can physically impact all of us... Gazing into the what-seemingly-never-ending lake of Michigan without the mechanism of time (One that was told to us, countless times over by society- “When it gets dark go home” “When it gets dark go home” ) can procure a blissful euphoric state. Creating a moment. One that cannot end, but eventually it always does. Now at this seemingly never-ending moment, I, For once truly feel free of the contraptions created by my own mind.

-Our first date was at this very spot.

It has been almost a year since I abruptly ended things- Again in this same spot.

Only a sickened and twisted man can bring Forget-Me-Not flowers to a “break up” as some sort of impractical joke. Anyways, I digress...

The stars were out, radiating the unpolluted sky like that of every night in Holland State Park. It was almost blinding. Maybe the lights emitted from the stars that night blinded me stupid for the rest of this SITuationship. She’s a soft-spoken woman, maybe too soft. From one look you can tell went through a lot of hurt in her life. Memories she rather crumbled into a ball, set that ball on fire, and chuck it into the lake. More importantly, she hates the vulnerability of it. She often suppresses her feelings, but she never lets that have an impact on her surroundings. A very respectable aspect of that trait, one that I can learn from. Consequently, that makes her invisible to me and to the rest of society. I don’t think she likes the feeling of that. Nobody does. Constantly shifting to find her balance like a pendulum- one between the spectrum of being there and not being a nuisance. If I have to describe what she looks like, I would say she is a blonde lady short of stature. Ethnically, her family came here from Norwegian but she retains little to none of her cultural heritage. Oftentimes that can possibly cause a person to have low self-esteem growing up. I wonder what that’s like for her, to grow up in a town priding itself on its Dutch heritage. It must be strange living your life “close but not close enough” to your peers...

“My eyes are a darker shade of blue than theirs” she stated in one of our conversations. I could sense the envious in her voice. Her envious does not come from their slightly brighter eye colors but stem from her inability to be indifferent. She always tells me that my dark brown mesmerized her every time it hits the sun and I’ve never told her that her azure eyes are very luring.

One of the things I hate about myself is that I am in fact a hopeless romantic but got hurt to the point where I became a realist.

I started talking to her a few months after my ex and I broke up from our long-term relationship. One of my ex’s insecurities was that I was into blondes, and she being a dark-haired Latina and all. She was sure of it. I tried to reassure her but it didn’t work. I do not know where she got that from...maybe it’s from the stereotype that “Asians really love blondes”. In a way, all stereotypes have a hint of truth to them but is it a very distorted version of it. Repeated to the point where it becomes a single truth, a single story, One that I, unfortunately, got grouped in with. Retrospectively reflecting on it. It impacted my SITUationship profoundly. At the time, the thought of giving my ex the satisfaction that she was right, irritated my soul to its core. I guess that was enough to outweigh the happiness and stability azure eyes brought into my pathetic life. One that comes with waves of self-hatred, self-destruction, and self-pity. For somebody who has an extremely low sense of SELF-confidence, I surely am SELF-absorbed.

Some things aren’t meant to last forever right? They’re meant to teach us a lesson.[.......]

It’s getting dark enough for the famous Michigan lighthouse to shine.

I should be leaving soon.

And just like that....the sun is gone.

so is she.

Chapter 3: Stained White Tee and LV Shoes

“you lost me again!” The professor commented on my report. If only I had more time to develop my research. I always aimed for subjects whose magnitude is far outside the scope of what would be considered an “A” paper in a community college. While Mr. Timmy Clockinghammer is writing about -how his grandmother went to work, probably in some dusty factory, cranking out helmets for the war effort in the 1940s. School has always been structured over content but once again my delusions have caused me to only make my life more miserable(BIG SUPRISED).

#michigan #book writing #storytelling #holand

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blake-n-1107 · 4 days

Text

August 31st, 2023

—————————

number

i’ve been thinking about it all day. before i left bed i had already messaged my friends about it. it wasn’t hard. it was as simple as “hey i think you’re cute, can i get your number?” i was gonna ask her for it. i have absolutely nothing to lose. we barely interact or see each other. her name is josie by the way. think that’s how you spell it. cute redhead. sophomore. don’t know anything about her but she lives right up the road and i think she’s cute. throughout the day at school i had told a couple friends that i was just gonna ask today. if she’s gonna give me her number, she would now. the only other thing i’ve really thought about consistently today is the pizza i left in the fridge last night. so hungry. just finished eating it. delicious. well, i’ve thought about other things but, if i can’t rap about them i doubt i can write whatever this is about them. anyways, school finally ends after what feels like forever. we ride the same bus but don’t interact during the ride. she talks to her friend and i usually am in one of the seats nearby. smart people, it’s the best area to sit in the bus. for the ride i just listen to music and read the lyrics. don’t have anything better to do besides that. don’t know what led me to it but i ended up on frank ocean’s open letter from his tumblr. someone transcribed all of his tumblr posts to genius. he puts things in words where i fail to. the things i relate to in it are not about josie though. that’s another story. i discovered frank has a series of random passages that he wrote “to stay sane” and i’m just ripping it off with this but, i don’t care. i finished one right before my stop on the bus. she gets off on the stop before, barely over a hill from my stop. she lives right next to where i get off. i asked her once why she gets off at the stop before, “i like to walk” she said. i go the way the bus came after i get off because it’s faster to go that way and cut through a backyard to my house than the way i’m supposed to go. so every day we cross paths after we get dropped off. i thought she was cute so i’ve slowly made our interactions more consistent, found excuses or questions to ask. some days just a wave and smile, others a joke, etc. i figured today was as good a day as any to just ask for her number. i got off the bus and started my walk while my bus driver got into an argument with a person in a car. shook my head, fixed my hair, took my earbud out. we were about to meet in the middle and we finally decide to acknowledge each other. “how are you doing?” “Good, how are you?” “i got pizza at home but i have work so it’s alright” she smiles while she talks and whatever she said after that. at the last second i said “you look good today by the way,” she said “thanks” still smiling. dunno why i didn’t do it. she smiled, should’ve just gone for it. damn. i got work in forty minutes.

—————————

p.s. i did get her number eventually, nothing came of it which is fine, cool girl, hope she’s doing well in her relationship

#journal entry #writing #writers on tumblr

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bubuthoughts · 2 years

Text

3.10.22

Let’s start with something fun

Why not 🤷‍♂️? I mean is Monday we are all lazy let’s do some questions I think maybe that’s fun 🦭 I hope you consider it a bit fun 🫣

How do you de-stress after a tough day?

I like to live on edge HAHAHAH jk jk. I have two options for this one. I really like going out by myself. After a long day of working I would just go out to eat, to a cafe or restaurant whatever really. I love just eating by myself and relaxing enjoying my food. Then I would come home and shower probably get off my phone a bit and watch a movie or something.

The other option is just go directly home, my introvert ass needs that most of the times. Order some take out or depends on how tired I am I would cook not a full meal but probably something small. I would eat while watching TV, I would open a can of beer or open a bottle of wine (beer is more often 🤣). I would talk to my girlfriend until I fall asleep (now I just listen to music and write this silly things until I get tired). I love my night routine Tbh.

What’s your ideal sandwich?

Damn this is a hard one 🤔🤔🤔 I’m not very picky on my sandwhich tbh 🤔 I eat whatever but if I had to pick.

Bread (any bread)

Pepperoni (whatever kind, I’m not picky 😋)

Caramelized onions

Tomato and lettuce (keeping it healthy)

Bacon (keeping it not healthy)

Some nice cheese (I don’t really know the kind of cheeses there are but just some good ass greasy cheese)

Garlic mayo

Try it please, I swear is heaven! I know your tummy will hurt but 🤣 you gotta try

What’s the worst date you’ve ever had?

👁️👄👁️ I’m going to tell it quick but one time in highschool a girl had invited me over to her house and apparently it was a date. Well it didn’t go well cause we ate some chocolate. That specific chocolate got me horrible diarrhea and I spent the whole time at her house shitting my pants out. We never spoke again.

What's your favorite season?

I really love spring or autumn. I love rain and I love when the weather is a bit cold.

Deep dish pizza or thin crust?

Deep dish. I know you hate deep dish HAHAHAHHA but I love it. I like my pizza how I like your legs thick

😤😤😤

What’s your favorite aisle in the grocery store?

I really like the cleaning aisle 🤔 like to know which productos I can use. The washing clothes aisle is so cool too 🤔. Also I really like the snacks and the drinks aisles those four are the most fun aisles in the grocery shop. The other ones I just grab stuff in automatic mode.

Tbh I really wonder what yours are

What shows are on your Netflix queue?

I’m currently watching cyberpunk. So freaking good. I just feel like you will love it. It’s by your favorite anime studio I think. But yeah 👉👈. Also I’m watching all horror movies I can cause well is October 🤷‍♂️ it’s fun. Last night I watched Goodnight mommy, I give it a 3.9/5 it was kinda good tbh. Today I’m probably watching Hush. I will tell you how I rate it.

Is this entertaining? I feel like it’s a bit boring 🫣

What would you sing at Karaoke night?

Any IU song 🤷‍♂️. Any kdrama OST song ever made, I know them all. Oldies but Goodies.

In english probably Harry styles, Sam smith (I like him lately) also frank ocean and I wished artic monkeys but I can’t hit his deep notes 🥲.

If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Is it annoying if I say you? Cause you 😘 I mean I am not even lying at this point 🤷‍♂️.

I don’t really know, all I can think about is deep dish pizza at this moment 🤔 and you also 🤔 ugh hard.

How many pillows do you sleep with?

I sleep with just one 🤣 I’m simple. I Can sleep on the bare mattress 🤷‍♂️.

That’s all :3 I know it was a lot 👉👈 I hope you have a beautiful day today. I’m proud of you everyday.

I love you

Here is the little quote of today: you can’t go back to change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.

#Spotify

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fueledbyapplepi · 3 years

Text

Twenty Steps Backward, One Step Forward | Shinichiro Sano

-Twenty times you rejected Shinichiro, and one time you didn't.

warnings: none

genre: fluff, angst

A/N: When I found out that he got rejected 20 times, I know that I need to write something about it. Although I'm not really sure if writing this at 1 A.M while listening to Lorde then Frank Ocean was a good idea (｡•́︿•̀｡)

If there's one thing you want to tell your younger self, it's telling them to take risks and say "yes".

But time travel doesn't exist. Well, maybe it does, but not in your realm anyway. And every decision you've made in the past made you who you are now. There can't be any room for regret.

You looked at Shinichiro. Your eyes wrinkling from how wide your smile is.

"Shinichiro-san, do you remember the first time you confessed to me?" You laughed, remembering the memory.

Your mother always taught you to stay away from bad boys for they are only trouble knocking on your door. And that's what exactly you're doing.

You know Shinichiro Sano as an owner of S.S Motors, where you're a usual customer. You must say, the man's great at getting the job done.

It's not like you're a member of a gang or a professional biker. It's just that you enjoy taking rides on your motorcycle that your mother gave you. But being on the streets every once in a while made you familiar with the man.

Other than being an owner of the bike shop, you know Shinichiro as the leader of the Black Dragons. One famous gang around Tokyo at that time.

While for Shinichiro, you're not just another customer. The moment you first stepped into his shop, you already captivated him. So when you asked him to customize a few parts for your bike, he decided to take it slowly. Just so you'll come by and check on more often.

He didn't dare to ask you out at first. Well, because he wanted to test the waters first and he didn't want to scare you away. So it took about three visits from you when he had the guts.

"Y/N-san, you're beautiful and kind. Honestly, I would love to take you out on a date some time" Shinichiro smiled at you while scratching his head. Honestly, he isn't expecting an answer right away.

"Shinichiro-san, don't get the wrong idea. I'm only here as your customer. Nothing else." You smiled kindly at him. You'll be lying if you say that Shinichiro isn't attractive. But then again, you want to stay away from trouble as much as possible.

You bit your lip as you reminisce the first time he asked you out. If you just knew that you'll end up being with the man, you would've said yes.

Your hand grazed over Shinichiro. "I remember it all too dam well in my heart."

There are two things that Shinichiro is bad at fighting and giving up.

It has been a week since your motorcycle has been fully customized by Shinichiro himself. And you can't help but be impressed every time. From the polished and flawless paint job to the customized seat, you got to give it to the Shinichiro.

The only thing you can't give to him is your "yes" to the date he's been asking for. As much as it is tempting, you knew that he'll only break your heart.

15 or 19? You've honestly lost count on how many times you rejected him. He kept pestering you even though you're not his customer anymore.

From a bouquet, a box of chocolates, and waiting for you after your work, Shinichiro kept on asking you for a date.

He even attempted to ask you out over a cheesy pick-up line.

"Hey Y/N, you look like someone I know."

"And who might be that?"

"My future s/o."

Well, who is he to give up though? He became a leader of Black Dragons for his determination. And he's not backing down on you.

Although, he would sometimes feel like a fool from the rejections he got from you. Is there something missing from him? You never said he isn't your type, so what could be wrong?

He could only take several rejections from you. So maybe 21st times the charm? Maybe this time, he'll be able to pursue you.

After work, you once again saw Shinichiro leaning on his bike waiting for you

"Shinichiro, I already told you-"

"Y/N," Shinichiro walked over to you and held your hand in between his. "Just one date. If you don't like it, I'll never bother you again. I swear."

The heart wants what it wants. Maybe Shinichiro is trouble, maybe not. One date wouldn't hurt, won't it?

And that was one of the happiest days of Shinichiro. While it was a day of experience for you. Something that'll be treasured in your heart forever.

It wasn't anything special. You and Shinichiro only rode around Tokyo that night. Enjoying the breeze, night lights, and your youth.

But one thing you won't forget that night is how you two danced under a lamp post. Particularly, the one in front of your house.

"Well, I wasn't able to get a date at my prom and you weren't able to attend yours. So, care to share a lovely dance, Y/N?"

It felt like a dream. A long-lived one. What you thought was trouble knocking on your heart was an angel in disguise.

Everything all seemed like it just happened yesterday.

That one "yes" you answered to Shinichiro is something that you'll never regret. But maybe, if you would've said yes to him sooner, you might have had more chances to spend time with him.

Maybe you would've built a family sooner. One thing that you and Shinichiro have dreamt.

You feel your heart clench at the memory. "I'm sorry, Shinichiro," your cheeks felt wet from the continuous tears falling from your eyes. "I couldn't do anything."

It's been years since Shinichiro left you. But time still won't fly around you.

You took a deep breath and leaned your forehead against the cold marble of his grave. Trying to feel some possible warmth from him.

All you could do is remember the twenty times you rejected Shinichiro and the one time that changed your life.

His absence forever leaving a void in your heart.

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asterlark · 3 years

Text

ok. samwell college of music au. i wrote all four years let's go babey

eric bittle is this lovely southern tenor (sounds kinda like mitch grassi or ben j pierce) who posts covers (& sometimes originals, but always with neutral or no pronouns because he can't post anything that says he or him ☹) on his youtube channel and has major stage fright but is very talented; he also plays ukulele

he got into samwell college of music on a voice scholarship and his dad doesn’t exactly approve but eric was never the 6′2″ masculine football player he wanted anyway so why not go for his dreams

he auditions for the very competitive samwell men’s contemporary chorus (there’s like 20 choirs; chamber choir, jazz choir, a cappella groups (lax bros do a cappella), combined choirs, etc- smcc does contemporary pop/rock music) and while he’s very very nervous and shaky as he auditions, directors hall & murray see a lot of potential in him (with major grumbling from student director jack)

(the rest of this ridiculously long au under the cut)

the group is small, for a chorus, because the point of the group is not a wall of sound but a focus on all of the very talented guys’ voices coming together in these gorgeous harmonies and basically they’re like one of the best choruses on campus and all the male singers want in

so there’s jack zimmermann, who of course eric knows because everyone knows who he is, he’s the son of bob and alicia zimmermann, both incredibly talented and famous musicians, and basically those genes were in his favor because he’s mega fucking talented

(jack was supposed to sign a recording contract to be in a band with his best friend kent parson when he was 17 but something happened between them and the pressure was too much and jack overdosed on something- there’s so many rumors no one knows what’s real- and kent signed solo in LA & went on to win grammys for his albums about a mysterious ex and jack disappeared for a few years to be a counselor at a music camp and reappears at samwell, knocking everyone’s socks off again like he’d never left, except with a renewed vigor and intenseness that freaks everyone out)

jack is a contemporary writing & production major, freaky talented and sings like a modern day frank sinatra, and he plays like 20 instruments and can read music like breathing air and writes songs like if he stopped he’d die; his music is folksy and mournful and he plays all the instruments on his tracks himself- guitar, piano, strings, drums- it sounds like a full band but nope. just jack. he’s intense

“we all get nicknames in this choir,” justin informs eric on his first day, “we’re those kinda guys.” so he’s bitty, which he finds vaguely offensive (bc he’s not that short!) but still cute, & the rest of the group is introduced to him:

“shitty” knight (voice like colyer) is a musical education major and an enigma of a singer with this awesome, earthy, raspy voice that’s really interesting to listen to and a very.... unique style & look; he writes cheesy but shockingly good raps about social justice topics and he will sing-lecture you if you’ve said something offensive (he also plays banjo)

justin “ransom” oluransi is a music business & management major with an angelic voice you can’t help but listen to; he’s sultry and has an incredible range and does runs like nobody’s business (with a voice like daniel caesar or leslie odom jr UGH)

adam “holster” birkholtz is a voice performance major, wants to be on broadway and it’s all he ever goddamn talks about basically, he’s a belter and has a lot of charisma and starpower and he’ll charm the pants off of you within one note; can also play piano and irritates everyone constantly because his regular volume is like a level 11 (voice like the frontman of my brothers and i combined w/ x ambassadors lead singer)

larissa “lardo” duan is at the local art institute because performing arts is not her jam and she’d much rather paint; she’s a barista at annie’s and supervises open mic nights and keeps the annoying choir dudes from driving away all her patrons

“i’m not even in your dumbass choir,” she says when the group gave her her nickname. holster just told her that she was an honorary member and then started sing-shouting a song at her about how good she is

bitty’s first year is hard because he’s talented and he works hard but he shies away when anyone asks him to sing outside the group and like, he can sing to a camera by himself but being on a stage with everyone looking at you and the sole responsibility of the song on your shoulders is terrifying and no thanks

jack does not. understand this. he’s been performing practically since he came out of the womb and he doesn’t really get performance nerves (what he gets is anxiety about how he did after he gets off stage that follows him home and makes it so he can’t sleep) - so he bothers bitty about it constantly like “you just need practice, you just have to sing by yourself a lot and then you’ll get over it” which like.... that’s true but it’s also hella scary and bitty’s like “no thanks!!!!”

but jack’s annoying and intense so he makes bitty do open mic with him every saturday night and it’s going okay and bitty loves his choir and loves his school and these new friends he’s making and he finally feels comfortable enough to come out to them during his second term

then during their spring choral showcase at the end of his freshman year bitty has a solo and he’s worked really hard on it and he’s feeling good- okay he’s completely freaked out but he’s trying to feel good- but when he gets up on stage there’s so many people and the stage lights are so hot on his face and he flips out a little and maybe he passes out from anxiety and stress right on stage and it’s terrible and he’s so embarrassed and ashamed that he ruined their set at the showcase

of course jack blames himself because “we shouldn’t have given you a solo before you were ready, i misjudged it, i’m sorry” - and they all feel kinda bad bc holy fuck they didn’t know his stage fright was that bad like they didn’t know someone could pass out just by being anxious to sing

he practices all the time over the summer and goes to his local open mic at jack’s insistence and it actually helps a lot because instead of a sea of strangers judging him it’s a bunch of people he knows and they’re all smiling at him and when he finishes his song they cheer for him and it boosts his self-confidence a lot

his sophomore year they have three new members- chris ”chowder” chow (voice like ieuan), an excitable music education major with impressive rapping skills, derek "nursey" nurse (frank ocean or leon bridges type), a songwriting major who can also play violin and guitar, and will ”dex” poindexter (like tom west), a production & engineering major who tried out with chowder bc he needed moral support and didn't expect to get in but impressed the directors with his voice

the year’s going pretty good, bitty’s still pretty scared of singing alone but more confident now and the open mic nights with jack haven’t stopped, so he’s getting better. and one night they’re hanging out at annie’s after closing waiting for lardo to be done so they can walk her home, and bitty suggests that jack sing with him one of these nights, and jack says he doesn’t know any of bitty’s songs and bitty says they can write one together half jokingly but then jack is like “yes.” with that Intense Look

SO they get together a couple days later in jack’s room at the house they all live in together (bitty moved in at the beginning of the year after previous smcc member john johnson called him- how’d he get his number?- and told him he could take his room if he wanted), jack with his guitar and bitty with his ukulele, and it’s a little awkward until bitty says jack should play him one of his songs

and, okay, he doesn’t really know what to expect because the only music jack ever released to the public was that one single he did with kent parson when they were 17 so bitty doesn’t even know if he has anything to play him, but he does- he starts playing these soft, sad notes on the guitar and opens his mouth and sings about being lonely and scared and unsure, about false starts and shaky ground and not knowing where you stand with someone, about expectations and lying awake at night and wishing so hard you were someone else, and bitty watches him sing and just kind of... realizes he’s head over heels for this boy and internally Freaks Out a little

he tries to put that aside and they start to write this song, at first it’s weird because jack’s like “all your songs are love songs i can’t really relate to happy love songs” and bitty’s like “listen... i’ve never even had a boyfriend i just write a bunch of sappy love stuff because it’s not about me it’s about whoever’s listening to it, they’re gonna project their own experiences on my music anyway so it doesn’t matter if it’s my real life or not” and jack’s like “alright while fake af that’s smart and i respect you” (what bitty doesn't say is that he writes about what he really wants which is to fall in love & be in a happy relationship)

they say they’re just gonna write this kinda vague sad song but they both secretly write lines about their actual lives so it ends up being really personal and real and raw for the both of them

they sing the song at open mic that saturday and the crowd at annie’s is never that big but they’ve never got a standing ovation here before, and some girl shouts “MAKE AN ALBUM” (it may or may not be lardo) and they both blush furiously and bitty’s like “... that was really nice, jack” and jack’s like “... yeah it was good good job you’re really getting some confidence out there nice work” (bitty: “THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT AAAAH”)

around this time jack’s really thinking about what he’s gonna do when he’s done at samwell, talking with his parents and his agent and looking into different record companies and deciding if he wants to sign with anyone or possibly start his own company- the head of a small company called falcon records in rhode island has been talking to him a lot, and jack talks to bitty about how he thinks it’d be nice to start small, and the record exec georgia and the producer marty had both been really nice and welcoming, and bitty’s so happy for him but also just... sad that he won’t be around jack every day after he graduates

THEN at a haus party celebrating their win of a local choral competition, who shows up but none other than pop star kent parson to Ruin The Fun

bitty sees the way jack pales when kent walks in, notices them disappear upstairs together and feels a little sick worrying about jack but chalks it up to the highly alcoholic concoction shitty and lardo had cooked up but nonetheless decides he’s sick of the party and goes up to his room and hears.... a little too much

and YIKES he’s standing right there and kent parson, pop star, two-time grammy winner, is looking a little rumpled and staring right at him and he puts his hat on and clears his throat and snaps at jack- “hey. well. call me if you reconsider. but good luck with rhode island. ...i’m sure that’ll make your parents proud.” and jack’s shaking, and bitty doesn’t know what to do but jack goes back into his room and bitty’s just kind of standing there like What The Fuck

so.... he kind of stews over winter break but tries not to think about it too much and he and jack text a bit and jack tells him to practice and bitty’s like “oh, you” and jack’s like “im serious” and bitty’s like “>:( it’s christmas”

spring semester starts and they're doing well in competitions and they go to semifinals and then finals for a prestigious collegiate choir competition and the pressure is mounting but they all are so optimistic and really feel like they're on the same page and bitty’s confidence is better than ever and then.... they don't win

jack especially takes it very hard, but then he also has signing to worry about, which everyone helps him with and he decides to sign with falcon records and start work on an album after graduation

speaking of graduation, shitty and jack graduate and it's hard for them but harder for bitty who feels like he's losing jack in a way, he knows how intense jack gets when he's making music and it doesn't feel like he'll have any time for bitty anymore so when they say goodbye bitty goes back to the haus and listens to his and jack's song and just cries

but, like in canon, dadbob has words of wisdom to impart and jack has an "oh" moment and races across campus to kiss bitty

they get together and the next few months are spent with jack working nonstop on his album (which tbh, he'd had many of the songs written already so it's mostly recording and producing) and texting bitty constantly and coming to visit him and playing him demos of all the songs

jack also asks bitty if they can record the song they wrote together & have it as a bonus track on his album & bitty says of course, so when jack visits they set up an impromptu studio and record vocals in the guest bedroom and this deeply personal song they wrote before they were ever together means so much more to them now

and bitty is so happy but so scared and sad too because jack is playing him these songs telling him "they're all for you bits, & a lot of them are about you" and he just doesn't know how he's going to keep all this love inside even though it feels like jack's career is at stake

he tries to shove it down and stay strong though, especially since he's now an upperclassman and they're taking on new members- connor "whiskey" whisk (voice like finneas or the male singer in valley), a music business/ management major who seems to hate bitty's guts and tony "tango" tangredi (like chaz cardigan), a jazz composition major who astounds everybody with his endless questions but also his ridiculously impressive composition skills & naturally perfect pitch (he can also play saxophone??)

i want ford in this au so fuck it she is a composition major with dreams to write scores for musicals and she stars training as a barista at annie's (aka training to corral the smcc)

the pressure of it all proves to be a lot and bitty and jack have their hi, honey moment where bitty's like i can't be this deep in the closet!!! and so they tell the smcc and also jack's label that they're together and that eases things a bit

jack's album comes out to much critical acclaim and shouting in the groupchat ("#1 ON ITUNES BRAHHHHH!!!!!!!!") and several months later, when smcc has already been eliminated from choral competition in an earlier round, jack is nominated for SEVERAL grammys including best album, song of the year, and best new artist

when the time comes he takes his parents and bitty on the red carpet which, everyone keeps being like "who are you here with jack?" and he's like "my family and my good friend :)" and yes it is awkward

jack wins... all three awards. it's the comeback everyone is stoked to see and when his third win is announced, he and bitty are so elated that they kiss before he goes to accept the award

his speech is basically just "um... wow. thank you. i just kissed my boyfriend on live tv. this is amazing and i'm so humbled. i'd like to thank my boyfriend and georgia and marty and my parents and my friends and my boyfriend"

obviously the press has a FIELD DAY with this but bitty & jack are honestly vibing and so happy that it doesn't matter untiiiillll bitty's mom calls and he has to tell her "mama i'm gay and i'm going on tour with jack this summer okloveyoubye"

the last few months of bitty's junior year pass quickly and he's voted student director which is a huge honor considering how much he struggled with stage fright and confidence & how he'll now be stepping into ransom & holster's shoes

r&h and lardo all graduate (the smcc basically crashes the art school graduation and all scream when lardo gets her diploma lmao), which is a bittersweet occasion and they all do a bit of tearing up

that summer bitty goes on tour across the u.s. & canada with jack and his touring band (snowy is a bassist, tater is a drummer and poots does backing guitar, he also brings nursey to play violin on a few songs) as well as georgia who's there to manage logistics

and tour is so fun & chaotic with many bi and rainbow flags in the audience that end up thrown on stage and draped around jack's neck and they spend so many nights in the bus drinking and laughing and fooling around on the guitars and bitty's uke and exploring new cities bitty has never been to before and it's the freest bitty has felt in a long time

summer ends though, and jack leaves for the uk/europe leg of the tour, and with the new school year brings a few new members- river "bully" bullard (voice like gregory alan isakov), a music therapy major who draws his own cover art for his songs, lukas "louis" landmann (like jr jr), an electronic production and design major with a penchant for EDM, and johnathan "hops" hopper (like keiynan lonsdale), a film scoring major who wants to write music for movies and video games

bitty meets and befriends some of the other student directors- shruti, sd of the women’s contemporary chorus; sharon, sd of the chamber choir; and edgar, sd of jazz ensemble (even chad l., sd of the all-male a cappella group)

senior year passes similarly to the comic; coach visits and sees one of bitty’s competitions, jack comes to madison for christmas, smcc does well in competition and goes to regionals etc

however… bitty keeps putting off and putting off gathering the songs for his senior recital

he has a hard time doing that because he’s so focused on the group and making sure they’re performing well and as they advance in competition, everything else starts to fall away

eventually the rest of the smcc has to lock away his uke and change his youtube password and FORCE him to choose songs for it and start preparing because he cannot graduate without doing this recital and doing well on it

he chooses (of course) a beyonce song, a few of his own songs, an ellie goulding song, and an adele song

with all that his breath hitches and his hands shake before he goes on stage, he does really well and his voice instructor prof atley tears up a little in the audience as does his mom

meanwhile smcc goes to semifinals, then finals, of the national collegiate choral competition they participate in

and i imagine bitty faces somewhat less homophobia in this au because i mean, he’s in the performing arts, but i think it’s still there and he also faces a good amount of classism from richer students and performers who think they’re better because they had the resources and money to be performing professionally from a very young age, and he has been practicing via filming himself on a shitty camcorder and posting it to youtube

but they still get there! and the national finals are fucking HUGE and a big deal and a little overwhelming

bitty’s stage fright is Present because this is the biggest stage and the biggest stakes he's ever had and he has a big solo in one of their songs so if he fucks up, he fucks up a national championship for his whole group and school

luckily though, when he steps on the stage with his best friends and sees his boyfriend and family and smcc alums in the audience and they perform their first song, a high-energy pop medley that always gets the crowd going, everything seems to melt away and it's just him living in this moment and singing his heart out

when it gets to the next song and his solo, he forgets to be nervous and belts it out, getting screams of approval from the audience when he finishes

(dex and nursey do have a duet together that they had to practice for many long nights in the practice rooms alone but that's neither here nor there)

their time on stage seems to last both hours and no time at all and then they're done, the crowd gives them a standing ovation and it's at least 30% r&h & shitty's hooting and hollering and jack's enthusiastic clapping that makes bitty & the others beam with pride

then it's just waiting, giddy and nervous beyond belief in their green room, for the judging to be over

after what feels like forever they're back on stage, arms linked together waiting and hoping for their name to be called and it is, they win and it feels like years have built up to this moment, and bitty tears up because years ago when he was fainting from anxiety at having to perform in front of people he never could've imagined that he'd do this, that he'd be the student director that led them to a championship

they get the trophy and a ridiculous amount of flowers from their loved ones and they all are just in giddy disbelief that this is happening, they're national champs!!! they are the best choir boys in the nation!!

they come home and the rest of the school year passes by so quickly that it's very suddenly graduation and bitty can't believe his college career at samwell is over 😢

(he and ollie and wicky take pictures together, o&w talk about how excited they are to devote full time attention to their band & wedding planning and bitty's just like wait you're gay??)

bitty got plenty of offers from record companies but he likes his freedom of creativity and he has a built in fanbase from doing youtube all these years so he decides to make an album independently (jack helps him produce & master it 🥰)

when bitty's album comes out about a year later, full of bops about being gay and in love and having struggled but come out the other side more confident than ever, it doesn't get any grammy nominations- and he didn't expect or need that.

what it does do is it resonates. it makes the rounds in youtube and queer internet circles; people his age reach out to him saying this is the music they wish they had as a kid and kids reach out to him saying he's a role model and they're so glad to have his music to listen to. his album is written about as an underrated gem that shines with queer brilliance and is sure to start a party when it comes on.

his parents may not fully understand the road he's chosen for himself but they're still so proud and promote the album as hard as any of his loyal fans (especially the one country-inspired song on the album that he wrote and dedicated to them).

and jack, jack who saw this album from its infancy to its release date, who took the film photo that ended up being the album cover, who worked with bitty to make sure his vision was realized exactly how he wanted it to be, is proud beyond words.

jack starts using his semi-abandoned twitter again to tweet "stream [album name]" every day and bitty retweets them sometimes, with just a "this boy. ❤"

and they're happy. they're good. they have come so far and they are reaping the rewards of all the hard work they put in to make the music that they truly love.

the end :)

#check please #omgcp #samwell college of music au #mine #my writing #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #omgcp fic #check please fic #zimbits #uhh idk what else to tag #this fucking thing is like 4.1k words i'm-#i hope you enjoy it (and reblog it!) bc i've been working on this for literal years #i know i'll never actually write it as a longform fic so here's a bullet pt fic instead #pls let me know your thoughts i have so many things to say about this au

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