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3rensgf · 3 years

Text

rent a gf - two eren yeager x reader

word count: 2.9k

warnings: mentions of sex, talks about "getting bitches", eren is an idiot, fuckboy!eren implied, tatbilb mention, uhh fluff idk theres not much to warn abt in here, not beta read

notes: chapter two is out! i'm really glad a lot of people are enjoying rent a gf. it really means a lot! i see some people commented on the previous chapter, and i would love to reply to them, but i'm not familiar with tumblrs commenting system D: if you wanna leave a comment for me to just read, that's fine you can still keep commenting here on tumblr. but if you would like me to reply to it, you can comment on ao3, and i will reply! happy reading :) p.s, waffles w whipped cream r so much better

[ read on ao3 ]

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In the early hours of Saturday morning, you felt a hand shaking your shoulder to wake you. Groaning and mumbling, you sleepily swatted the hand away and pulled the covers over your head. No one should be forced to wake up early on the weekends. It was Saturday, for fucks sake. Not to mention your hangover due to last nights mistakes was making your head throb.

The hand rested on your shoulder once more, shaking you gently. “(Y/N),” Mikasa said softly. “Your alarm has been going off for the past 10 minutes. Wake up. I have water and Advil.”

“Nooooo,” you moaned, snuggling deeper into your bed. “Don’ wanna.”

Mikasa stopped bothering you for a moment, and you let your guard down. Finally you could sleep. When it was time to wake up, you’d wake up.

Right as you were about to pass out again, your blanket was roughly tugged off of you. “Mikasaaa!” you whined, covering your face with your hands. “What was that for? I was trying to sleep.”

“Get up. You have to shower and get ready for lunch with Eren today. Breakfast is almost finished,” she explained, setting down the pills and water on your bedside table. “Go brush your teeth and wash your face so you can eat. Now,” she instructed sternly, moving to your window to open the curtains. The bright sunlight hit your still half-asleep face, making you hiss quietly.

She left the room moments after, probably to check up on breakfast. Honestly, you didn’t know how she could function this early in the morning despite having partied all night last night. Curse her and her inability to get hungover.

Grumbling to yourself, you adjusted your sleep clothes that had gotten disheveled overnight to make sure you looked decent. Your sleepy gaze wandered over to your nightstand to see two Advils on a napkin beside a glass of cold water. Thanking every higher power for sending Mikasa to you, you downed both pills and the glass of water. Even though you might bitch and moan to her constantly, you really weren’t lying when you said you’d die without Mikasa.

After sitting down at the edge of your bed for a few moments, you eventually shuffled into the bathroom to brush your teeth and do your morning routine. It took longer than usual thanks to your sluggish and tired movements, but you got done nevertheless.

A wonderful aroma came from the kitchen when you left, stomach grumbling in anticipation for the wonderful food you were about to scarf down. Mikasa was in the process of setting down both your breakfasts on the island, sitting down on the stools when you walked in. “Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” she greeted, resting her chin on her hands.

“Morning, sweet angel,” you replied, sitting at the stool beside her. In front of you was a plate of Funfetti pancakes with whipped cream instead of maple syrup (syrup was for pancakes only). There were a couple of cut up fruits beside them, too. “Where did you get these?” you asked, picking up your fork to take a bite of your breakfast.

Mikasa dug into her own breakfast of oatmeal as soon as you started eating. “Went grocery shopping and saw the mix in the baking aisle. I thought you’d like it,” she explained, taking a bite of her food. “Good?”

Your response was a moan, tilting your head back as you chewed. “Insanely,” you said, cutting up another bite. You stabbed the piece with your fork and guided it to Mikasa, keeping your hand under it to catch anything if it dropped.

She finished her bite and leaned in to take the bite, humming in satisfaction at the taste. “Good,” she nodded.

“They put like crack ‘n this shit,” you said through a full mouth, shoveling forkful after forkful into your mouth.

You could feel Mikasa's judging gaze for eating like a pig, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was eating these crack laced waffles as greedily as possible. “What time are you supposed to meet Eren today?” she asked to make conversation.

You remember drunkenly slurring to her that Eren was supposed to take you out for lunch today while she was trying to put you to bed. All she did was nod and dodge your flailing limbs while she tried to change you into your night clothes.

“Uhhh,” you trailed off, “I dunno actually. I think he’s gonna text me when.” The familiar notification from your phone indicated you had a text from Eren. “Right now.”

ren ᕙ(`▿´)ᕗ - 9:04 AM picking u up at 12 dont be late

you - 9:04 AM k

ren ᕙ(`▿´)ᕗ - 9:05 AM dont use k with me that makes me sad :(

you - 9:05 AM k

“He says 12,” you told Mikasa, setting your phone back down on the table. You went to go take another bite of your waffles, only to be met with stray bits of whipped cream and waffle crumbs. How disappointing.

“You have time to get ready then,” she said, finishing up the last bit of her own breakfast. Holding her plate, she got up to go put it in the sink, taking your plate for you as well. Literally an angel.

Suddenly, she leaned in to sniff you like the weird English professor you had your freshman year and cringed. “You’re gonna need all the time you can get. You stink.”

Never mind, not an angel.

Grumbling and cursing under your breath, you got off the stool to go take a shower. “And here I was about to offer to get you something for lunch while I was out.”

“A burger from the joint I like would be nice. So would a Coke and side of onion rings.”

“Size?”

“Medium for both.”

You would’ve caved in and bought her something, anyways. Might as well know what she wanted in the first place.

Showering took longer than expected. Most of your time got wasted by you standing under the shower stream and soaking in all the warmth. It wasn’t until Mikasa knocked on the door asking you not to use up all the hot water that made you actually start going through your routine.

The clock read 10:09 when you got out. You still had more time to kill until Eren came, so you elected to sit on your bed in your towel to scroll through social media. At 10:45, you started to get ready for real now.

Your makeup was just enough to cover any imperfections on your face, and your outfit cute enough for a lunch outing with your friend-fuckbuddy.

At 11:50, you stepped out into the living room with your belongings in hand to lounge around while you waited for Eren. You would’ve gone to bug Mikasa, but she had just stepped into the shower minutes prior.

12 on the dot, a rhythmic knocking was rapped on your door, meaning Eren was finally here. Skipping over to the door, you opened it to reveal him while slipping on your shoes.

“Hey,” he grinned when the door opened. He leaned in to give you a kiss on the lips after you’d straightened up from putting on your shoes.

A grin found its way on your lips during the kiss. It only lasted a couple of seconds, ending with you pulling away with a quiet smack. “Hi,” you greeted back.

“Ready to go?” he asked, one hand leaving his jacket pocket to jut his thumb down the hallway towards the elevators.

“Yup, ready,” you said. Over your shoulder, you yelled into the apartment to say goodbye to Mikasa and locking the door once you closed. “Okay, ready for real now.”

There was a new hot pot restaurant near campus, Eren told you, that he so desperately wanted to try. He overheard some people talking about the place in his Stats class, and he’s been wanting to go ever since.

“So, about what I told you last night,” he said, leaning on the table close to you after giving your orders to the waitress. “You said you would help me get Mina.”

“I said it was a bad idea,” you countered, taking a sip of your drink.

“But you said you would help me. For a price.”

“That I… did say,” you sighed. “What’s your plan?”

Smiling, he opened up his jacket and dug into the inner pockets, getting out a small notepad and a pen. Your eyebrows raised at the sight of them. “Okay,” he started, flipping through his notepad. “So I was thinking about it this morning, and this is what I have down so far.”

Sliding it towards you, he waited impatiently for you to read what he had.

Your lips pursed to prevent giggled from leaving your lips. Well, it was a plan, alright. Written in Eren’s chicken scratch of handwriting were a few very simple steps.

eren yaegers fool proof plan to get bitches get mina aka operation rent a gf by eren yaeger 1. talk to mina to get her interested in you ✓ 2. get hot girl ((Y/N)) to pretend to be your gf and show you can be a good bf 3. get mina jealous so she wants you even more and not poopy thomas wanker 4. “break up” with (Y/N) and pretend to be sad 5. get mina to comfort you 6. get bitches make mina your gf 7. pay (Y/N) for her services 8. ta-da!

When you looked up from the notepad, you saw Eren waiting for your answer. “Well? What do you think? Is it any good?” he asked.

“Were you high when you wrote this?” was the first thing you asked him. Eren shook his head innocently. “You’re 100% serious?” He nodded.

You bit your lip, deep in thought about Eren’s supposedly fool proof plan. “What makes you think it’s gonna work?”

“I know girls and how they act. If Paradis University let me major in women -- don’t get smart with me I don’t mean Women Studies -- I would be passing all my classes with flying colors. I know it’ll work, trust me,” he said cockily, leaning back in his chair.

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do. I know you. I know everything about you, (Y/N). I even know how to make you scream my name in--”

“Okay!” you cut him off, not wanting the strangers around you to know the intimate details of your sex life with Eren. “Okay.”

“I knew you were gonna do that. See, I do know women.”

A moment or two passed, both of you staring at each other. You with a deadpan expression, and him with a proud one. You were the first one to break the silence with a heavy sigh. “Okay, say I agree to this. What do I get in return?”

“Anything you want,” he said. “Within reason, of course. Please don’t ask me to like, hide a body or something.”

Ignoring his last comment, you continued speaking, “You’re not allowed to back out of whatever I ask you to, right? If this plan fails or succeeds, you still owe me whatever you promised.”

Eren nodded. “Of course. I swear on it.” He shifted a little so his elbow was on the table, holding out a pinky. Instinctively, you held out your pinky as well and intertwined the both of them. Pinky promises were something you and Eren had been doing for years now. It meant that the other was dead serious on their promise.

The waitress came back with your broth and dipping ingredients, setting them on the table for you right when your pinkes left each other. Thanking the waitress, the two of you talked some more while you waited for the broth to heat up.

“We should make it official. With a contract and set of rules,” he said. “Like that one movie you forced me to watch with you. The Boys I Loved or some shit like that.”

“To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before,” you corrected.

“Yeah, that. They’re kinda doing something like us, yeah?”

“Guess so,” you shrugged, picking up your chopsticks and a sice of pork belly when the broth started to boil. “After we eat though.”

Idle chatter was shared between the two of you as you ate. Even though you saw each other nearly every day, you never ran out of things to talk to. You could be talking about complete nonsense or how quantum physics made no sense, and you would still have the best time of your life.

By now, the broth had been drunk up and the table had been cleared out to be replaced with banana milk and ice cream. Eren brought out his notepad again to write down the set of rules for your fake relationship while enjoying your desserts.

Good progress had been written so far on the notepad. Both of you had given input and criticism on each rule made. In the end, you finally had a good set of rules written down.

(Y/N) and erens contract and rules for eren yaegers fool proof plan to get mina aka operation rent a gf by eren yaeger 1. act normally. eren and (Y/N) act like a couple already. just double the pda a little more 2. don’t tell anyone about the deal. the more people who believe in the relationship, the more likely it is for the plan to work 3. post each other on ig a lot. maybe add names and a date to bios to make it more believable 4. date night every saturday (go out or just hang out) 5. go to parties together 6. walk each other to class if you can 7. call each other cute pet names 8. after breaking up, the couple act has to stop including the sex 9. DON’T SLIP UP

payment for (Y/N):

Eren tapped a beat on the notepad, reading “payment” over and over again. Eventually he looked up at you, deep in thought. “Have you thought of anything so far?” he asked, clicking the pen to write what you wanted.

This was a tough decision. Eren was ready to give you anything to help him get Mina. You had to be wise and pick something big to take advantage of him. Something you were sure you wouldn’t ever regret getting.

“How about,” you started, trailing off, “you do my laundry for the rest of our time at ParadisU, buy me lunch every Wednesday even after we break up, recommend that godsend of a tutor you keep gatekeeping to help me too, and…”

“And?” Eren asked, looking up from his writing, waiting for your next words.

“All the orgasms I want during our relationship,” you finished, satisfied with what you chose.

“Is that all?” he asked, writing down the last of your words. “That’s a lot.”

“How about I let you know if I wanna add more,” you said. Eren nodded in response. His head hung to look at the notepad again, writing something down. Once he was done, he plaed the pen on the pad and slid it to you.

“Sign it so it’s official,” he instructed.

There were two lines beside each other, one already with Eren’s signature. Without hesitation, you signed your name neatly on the paper, giving the items back to Eren once you were done.

payment for (Y/N): eren has to do the (Y/N)’s laundry for the rest of university, buy her lunch ever wednesday, get tutor to help her and give her as many orgasms as she wants during the course of the relationship

signed x eren yaeger x (y/n) (l/n)

The two of you shook hands when Eren put away his things, to seal the deal again. The waitress came by again to give you the bill and collect your dirty dishes. Eren set down the cash needed to pay along with a tip in the check presenter before the two of you left.

You walked hand in hand back to Erens car before you realized you missed something. “Wait. What do we tell people when they ask how we got together?” you asked, pausing in your tracks.

Eren stopped with you, turning to look at you. “Um, you can say I confessed after lunch, and that this is technically our first date,” he suggested, tugging your hand to walk back to the car.

“Huh. Okay. That works,” you nodded.

The two of you got into the car a little bit past 2:30 in the afternoon, ready to go home. “Wait,” you said again, making Eren pause. “Mikasa wanted a burger from that one joint near our apartment. Could you take me there first?”

Eren smiled and nodded, starting the car. “Of course. Burger with medium Coke and onion rings?”

“How did you know?”

“She always gets that when we go there.”

“Huh… I guess you’re right.”

“When am I not?”

"Always."

taglist - @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag , @lazalee , @countthemoons , @se-va-muriendo-mialma , @liaxxx109 , @prxttyguardian , @jeansbabycake

italic names, it wouldn't let me tag you!

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alj4890 · 3 years

Note

I got an ask we know Riley gets kidnapped by Anton but what if Anton was in love with her and he didn’t wanna kill her but makes her his. What if Olivia killed Claudus for shooting drake.

I love the way you think, Nonny! I actually would have eaten this up with a spoon if that had happened in canon. To be honest, I really liked Justin in book 2. If he had been a new love interest, I would have done a play through just to see what happens if Riley chose him 🤦🏻 Of course then we find out he is behind all the bombings and such so...oops, LOL. When I first saw your request, I made an aesthetic with just Justin/Anton and Riley in mind. I completely forgot to add a definite OTP of mine, Drake and Olivia, to it. Smh. The story though will definitely include them along with Riley and Justin. I am so tempted to turn this into a series 🙊

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg @amandablink @neotericthemis @mm2305 @sfb123 @iufilms

Masterlist

True Intentions

It had happened when he had not been paying attention. It shouldn't have happened at all. He had one goal. One mission. Nothing had ever come to mean more to him than that. Nothing. No one.

Until Riley.

He knew he shouldn't have spent so much time with her. He shouldn't have helped Maxwell in picking the right dresses for her. He shouldn't have stuck around to see her come out of dressing rooms, an excited smile upon her face, as she twirled around for them to give their opinions.

It had taken all his will power to keep from telling her what he truly thought. Riley's beauty was simply stunning, not because of her outer loveliness, but more that he saw her inner beauty shining through each trial she faced. Her strength amazed him. Her wit brought a smile to his face. Her kindness touched his heart.

It made him begin to long for things he shouldn't. They shouldn't be a part of any dream or plan he had.

And yet...she was beginning to crop up in his thoughts. In his dreams.

In his plans.

He winced as he tried to get comfortable.

His plans hadn't exactly gone as he had hoped. In fact, he should have talked to his men and explained that Riley was not to be a target.

Thank God for Drake. If he hadn't jumped in front of her, she would have been taken from me.

His lips twisted in another painful grimace.

"Are you in pain?"

Justin looked up and tried to smile. "Just a little."

His nurse shook her head. "I told you to buzz before it got too bad." She gently checked his wound.

"I don't want to be a bother." He mumbled.

"You aren't." She patted his hand. "You aren't any trouble at all." Her nose wrinkled. "We had a few nobles cause unnecessary problems when the attack happened."

"Really?"

She rolled her eyes. "Some were knocked down during the chaos and demanded they be admitted."

He chuckled softly. "Sounds like something they would do."

"It's a shame that good people like you were seriously hurt while those spoiled nobles try and take all the attention." She readjusted his covers after administering some more pain medication in his IV. "I don't know why King Liam is so hellbent on bringing them back to court."

"What do you mean?" Justin tried to fight the effects of the pain medicine. "What's he doing?"

"He and Lady Riley are going on some type of tour to some of the major houses to personally invite them to their wedding."

His brow furrowed.

A unity tour. That would work on these small minded individuals. It was a smart move. The public were already Team Riam. Once the royal couple convinced the most powerful houses to come to their wedding, all the other minor lords and ladies would follow suit.

"Well played, Liam." Justin's eyes drooped closed. "Well played."

**************

He couldn't believe that they not only convinced Madeleine's entire family, but also somehow got all of Portavira on their side.

"What's the plan?" Claudius asked.

"We need something big to remind everyone that we aren't a one trick pony." Justin told him.

He looked out the window. Leaves were beginning to change with the first hints of autumn in the air.

A hint of a smile appeared as a plan began to form.

"It would be a shame if Cordonia's apple orchard had a bad year, wouldn't it?" He eyed his second in command.

Claudius chuckled. "It really would."

******************

Justin watched as every channel showed the devastation of the orchard near Applewood. He couldn't help but smile over Riley making the people love her even more for her righteous anger. Her promises to bring those responsible to justice along with making the orchard bigger than before made him nearly burst with pride.

She had grown into her role more so than he had ever imagined. Gone was the timid young waitress from New York who uttered no comment when reporters surrounded her. She was a confident woman now who could think on her feet.

Justin thought she was more attractive than the first time he had seen her floundering in front of the cameras, in desperate need of a hero. It hadn't been a bother to rush to her side then and put his arm around her. Her wide eyes had lifted to his and he had nearly melted from her beauty.

He still couldn't believe that she forgave Liam for choosing another over her. Granted Madeleine impressed him with how she could manipulate reporters into spinning a story to her advantage, but Riley was so many things that the cold countess was not. She deserved better than what she got.

And he planned on giving it to her.

*****************

A week after the orchard burning, he turned to see the one rarely far from his thoughts.

"Justin!" Riley rushed over to engulf him in a hug.

"How's my favorite media darling?" He asked.

She leaned back and gave him that smile that was brighter than flash bulbs. "Much better now that I know you're recovering." She playfully glanced about before whispering, "Save me from Madeleine!"

He laughed as he hugged her once more. "I don't know. I've seen her work and can't find fault with it."

Riley pouted. She linked her arm with his as they walked down the hospital hallway. "I prefer your guidance to hers." Her nose wrinkled. "It's weird being told how to act by Liam's former fiancée. I know there wasn't anything between them, but still."

Justin patted her hand. "Tell you what. If Madeleine is unable to do her job or you decide to fire her, then I will gladly step back into my old position." He dug around in his pocket for the earpiece she had used during Liam's engagement tour.

Her smile reappeared. "Old faithful."

"I'm always Just-in-time." He teased.

*****************

It had been too close. He hadn't expected Riley to go anywhere near Constantine. And there she was, by Liam's side, graciously accepting some necklace from the old man who had destroyed her initial happily ever after.

His heart had nearly stopped as he watched rubble fall around them. Riley had frozen in fear over Liam's safety. It was a nightmare come to life as pieces of the wall and ceiling began to collapse.

At least one good thing had come from this: one king was dead.

It sadly wasn't the king he needed to die.

Justin began to plan how he would comfort Riley once Liam was gone. He wouldn't have to tell her it was he, himself, who orchestrated his death. But he would make certain to enjoy the benefits of it.

His eyes narrowed over another slight problem he had.

He was going to have to kill his own wife too.

******************

Lythikos...

It had been almost too easy. Madeleine was already in need of a distraction after hearing Liam gush over how excited he was to marry Riley in a few weeks. Once she requested a fruity cocktail, he knew then that the poison could go undetected taste wise.

The bartender left to go replenish the champagne. Madeleine's irritation over having to wait on a refill was drawing attention.

"Here." He grinned at her. "Allow me to make you another."

Her eyes widened. "Aren't you that press secretary that helped Riley?"

"I am." He began to mix a strong cocktail for her while adding the poison, all right under her nose. "And I must say you are the best I've ever seen."

Madeleine's irritation disappeared over the compliment. "I am, aren't I?"

"Riley's lucky to have someone so knowledgeable in ways of both the court and public like you." He added.

"Yes, she is." Madeleine muttered. "I'll do anything for my country, even if it is a thankless job."

"You should be recognized for your sacrifice." Justin handed her the deadly drink.

"Yes, I should." She took a gulp.

"How is it?" He asked.

"It's the only good thing here." A tipsy grin appeared on her face when she saw Riley. She grasped Justin's hand and pulled him in her wake. "Let's go say, hi."

"Boooooo!" Madeleine giggled when Riley turned around. "It's the ghosts of press secretary past and present."

"The what now?" Riley lips trembled with suppressed laughter as she looked up at Justin for clarification.

"I'm the ghost of press secretary past." He winked at her.

"OoooOooo!" Madeleine swayed where she stood.

"Whoa, there." Riley tried to steady her. "You okay?"

"She's had a little too much." Justin mimed drinking.

"It's a party!" Madeleine slurred. "It's in the worst place ever but it's a party and I'm going to...going to..."

"Enjoy it?" Riley offered.

"Extractly!" Madeleine's brow wrinkled over that not being the right word. "Expactly?"

"Exactly." Justin corrected.

"That."

The crowd quieted around them when Olivia took the stage to offer a final toast of the evening to Liam and Riley's wedding.

"Woo!" Madeleine cheered.

Riley and Justin tried to shush her.

Her giddy smile fell as her rosy cheeks drained of color. "Somefing's not..."

"Madeleine?" Riley lost her grip on her when she swayed violently to the right. "What's--"

Madeleine hit a table, causing the plates to clatter and the vase of blood red roses to fall over.

"I hate this place." She collapsed on the floor.

"Madeleine!" Riley dropped to her knees and tried to bring her to. "Liam! Mara! Come quick!"

Justin stepped back as the two came to see what was wrong. He watched as Olivia made her way through the crowd to find out what the all the fuss was about.

"What's wrong with her?" Riley asked.

"She's been poisoned." Mara whispered.

*******************

Justin loved seeing the delighted surprise once more on Riley's face when he said he would take over Madeleine's duties for the rest of the tour. It would have been a perfect moment if Liam had not been standing there. He was ashamed to think of his nearly giving himself away when he panicked at the sight of Olivia walking in behind him.

He wished Lucretia would quit trying to push Olivia into going into the family vault. She had a sick sense of humor in wanting her niece to discover she was already married. For some reason, she did not approve of the way her niece depended on her friends for support.

Justin knew the power friends could have. Had he not been trained by his own parents' friends, he wouldn't be the worthy man next in line to the throne. His comradery with his own men inspired their loyalty and willingness to die to make him king.

He needed to distance himself from Lucretia the moment they got out of Lythikos.

****************

She was supposed to come alone! Why did she bring Riley? I can't kill her. I need her. I deserve to have a choice in the one I want ruling by my side. The people already adore her, much more so than they admire Olivia. I was supposed to become free of this marriage. Once she and Liam are dead, I'll be able to be king and have--

"Justin?" Riley's eyes were clouded with confusion as she looked first at a picture of him dressed in a royal uniform. "What is this?"

"I'm sorry, Riley." His voice cracked on her name.

Justin reached in his pocket and pulled out a revolver.

Lucretia cackled with glee as she told her niece the truth about her marriage.

Justin stood there silently as the woman he loved shook her head in denial.

She's so incredibly sweet to doubt a friend could be the bad guy. I hate that I can't pull her away from all this and simply explain why I should be the ruler of Cordonia. I deserve it. I worked for it. My entire life was made for me to take the crown. She would be able to understand that. Look how far she's come in her own life. Who could imagine a waitress from some dive bar in America would come to be the next queen of a small European nation?

"Do it already!" Lucretia hissed. "Shoot her!"

He couldn't do it. Even as he held the gun steady, pointed directly at the woman he loved's heart, he couldn't shoot Riley.

"Get away from her!" Liam ordered.

Justin spun around to see the king and guards filling up the narrow passageway.

"I thought you said this was secure." Justin snapped at Lucretia.

"It was." She held her hands up in surrender.

Justin watched as she stepped forward, pretending to stumble.

His eyes widened as once again his love was trapped within a collapsing room.

He managed to see her safely end up in Liam's arms before escaping through a hidden passage.

He left Lucretia to the guards. She had served her purpose and was sadly of no use to him any longer. Now he could plan what he truly wanted to happen.

*******************

Liam and Riley's wedding day...

"I don't care who you kill. Olivia and Riley are to be taken alive." Justin told the small team of men he was sending in. "If you have to wound them to get them here, make certain Riley's is non life threatening.

He ignored the questioning look Claudius sent his way.

"Bring them both to our stronghold." His eyes narrowed. "Do not fail me."

****************

Later that night...

"Good work." Justin straightened his jacket. He wanted to look his best when he saw Riley again.

Claudius smirked at him. "Just think of all the men we would still have if you had let me go alone."

Justin chuckled. "True, but at least we are free of our weakest links." He smoothed his hair back. "Now take me to our guests."

***************

"I know the real Justin is somewhere in there." Riley leaned as far forward as her bindings allowed. "You helped me gain the love of the people. You know that if you kill me, the people will not readily accept you as king."

He couldn't help but smile. "I know and that is why I don't intend to hurt you."

"Then why kidnap us?" Olivia demanded.

He turned toward her. "If I'm to be king, then I have to take the necessary steps to claim the throne." He motioned for Claudius to come in.

"You're the one who shot Drake!" Olivia shouted, struggling against the ropes biting into her tender skin. "You'll regret that."

"And you tried to kill me!" Riley added, narrowing her eyes.

"That was a mistake." Justin quickly said. "You were never to be harmed."

"Then why all the attempts?" She asked. "Why do you persist in--"

"You weren't supposed to be here, Riley." He knelt down in front of her. "You should have stayed in New York until the time was right"

Her eyebrows drew together. "What are you talking about.

Justin asked Claudius to remain with Olivia while he took Riley somewhere private.

"If you think for one second that I will remain with this man while you take her away go do only God knows what," Olivia's chair creaked at her straining to break free, "then you don't know what a Nevarkis is truly made of!"

Justine rolled his eyes over her rant as he untied Riley from her chair. He kept her ankles and wrists bound together. He swept her into his arms and carried her out.

Olivia's shouts were silenced by the sound of a hard slap.

Riley struggled in Justin's arms. "What did he do to her? OLIVIA?!" Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Justin, please don't--"

"Nothing's happened to her." He took her into a surprisingly clean, yet drab, sitting room.

Riley was dropped on a chaise lounge. She eyed the door then Justin.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He repeated. He gently cupped her cheek, fingers brushing along her jaw line. "I love you too much to ever harm you."

Riley stilled. She looked up at him. "You what?"

He knelt before her. "I'm in love with you. It didn't hit me until you told me you had accepted Liam's proposal on the train. I didn't plan it, but I refuse to hide my feelings any longer." He smiled at her. "You've proven yourself as the rightful Queen of Cordonia. Once Liam and Olivia are dead, you and I can rule this country as we see fit. We'll--"

Riley shook her head. "Justin," she believed he was deranged and knew she had to handle this carefully, "I'm flattered. Really I am. I mean, we both know I would never have gotten this far without you."

His smile grew at her realizing she owed him for her meteoric rise within the court.

"But if you kill Liam and Olivia, the people will not feel any love or loyalty for you." She tilted her head as she studied him. "Surely you see the problem with this plan."

"People respect power." He explained. "They respect someone who fights for what is rightfully his. Since my birth, I have been meant for something greater. My parents, Olivia's family, even my soldiers realized that I alone am worthy to rule over this country." He focused once more upon her. "And I've seen that you are the one to do so by my side."

Riley shook her head. "Justin, I am honored," her voice cracked on that lie, "to have your love but I can't accept it." Her eyes filled with tears. "I'm in love with Liam."

"Riley, he didn't choose you." Justin argued. "He left you on your own to fight against nobles, the press, even his own father. You deserve so much more than being an afterthought."

Tears slipped down her cheeks once more. "That wasn't what he did. He was trying to protect me. And I--"

He leaned down and kissed her.

She froze at the touch, refusing to participate.

"Once Liam's gone, you will see the truth." Justin promised.

"I won't." Her eyes narrowed. "As long as I live, I'll hate you with everything within me for taking him from me."

"You don't have it in you." He shook his head in amusement. "You've forgiven everyone. Olivia, Penelope, Madeleine, even Constantine. You never hold a grudge."

"You'll be my first." Riley vowed. "Liam is the love of my life. If you ruin my chance to finally be with him, I will never forgive you. As long as there is breath in my body, I will find a way to destroy you."

"You are amazing." He murmured, knowing she was speaking from her heart. He couldn't wait for that devotion to be for himself.

"Anton?"

The two turned to see Claudius in the doorway. "Liam should be here any moment."

Justin nodded and told him he would meet him and the rest of the men downstairs.

He lifted Riley in his arms and placed her back in the cell with Olivia.

His wife had the bruised imprint of Claudius's hand on her alabaster cheek. Blood had dried on her bottom lip. No tears had fallen from the force of the hit. Her left eye was bloodshot as she glared up at him.

"Liv?" Riley choked out. "Are you--"

"I'm fine." Her harsh answer echoed in the chamber. "It will take more than some two bit thug to hurt me." Her eyes did a quick scan to make certain Riley wasn't hurt.

"If you will excuse me, I have to go prepare for Liam's last night on earth." He retied Riley to her chair.

She threw her head back with all her might to connect with his face.

His glasses broke from the force of her strike. Blood poured out his nose as he stumbled away from her.

"Don't ever," his voice dropped to a hiss, "do that again, my love." He gripped her chin and jerked her face up toward his. "You will learn how to behave soon enough."

He slammed the cell door and left them alone.

"Did he hurt you?" Olivia whispered.

"No." Riley bit her bottom lip. "Not yet."

*****************

"Where is my wife?" Liam demanded.

Justin couldn't help but be impressed. The young king was standing before him, completely outnumbered, yet didn't show the slightest flicker of fear.

He asked the one question that he himself would have asked if Riley was taken from him.

"She is well." Justin replied. "Which is something I can't promise about your own well being."

"I want to see her." Liam bit out. "Now!"

Justin's chuckle was interrupted by a hastily whispered message from Claudius. His head jerked around to search the dim hallway as if doing so would reveal the missing prisoners.

How had they escaped?

"You don't get to make demands here." He snapped at Liam.

"Let Riley and Olivia go." Liam ordered. "And I will take their place." His eyes narrowed. "I know it is a temporary one."

Justin couldn't help but smile. The man was indeed brave to trade his life for Riley and Olivia's.

"No!" Riley screamed out from the stairs.

Chaos broke out as she led the charge to attack the Sons of the Earth. Justin watched as she ran over to protect Liam's back.

The couple were doing their utmost to protect the other from harm.

Their friends were taking his well trained soldiers out one by one. It was embarrassing to see how pitiful his men fought.

Olivia moved into his line of sight. Fury blazed across her delicate features.

"I'm impressed." He told her, unsheathing his sword. "I should have searched you myself."

"Trust me." Olivia circled him. "It will be the last mistake you'll ever make!"

She lunged at him. He easily parried her attack. "I think you've forgotten that it was your parents who gave me the same training you had."

"I think you talk too much!" She twirled about, bringing her daggers up to stop his sword from meeting her shoulder. He grunted from her heel piercing his leg as she pushed off to break his hold.

They continued to try and deliver punishing blows to the other. She was desperate to kill the man who was after her friends and country. He was anxious to be free of their marriage.

He noticed from the corner of his eye Claudius and Drake fighting. His second in command stunned the commoner with an uppercut to his jaw, causing Drake to stumble back into a wall.

Olivia heard the scuffle and followed Justin's line of sight. Her face paled at Claudius moving towards Drake to end him once and for all.

With a flick of her wrists she not only slashed Justin but threw her other dagger at Claudius. It struck true along the side of his neck, cutting into his jugular. He let out a garbled scream as he fell to the floor.

Justin hissed at the deep gash she had made along his ribcage.

Seeing that it was a lost battle, he hopped the banister and began to rush upstairs. He would have to go into hiding once more before orchestrating another attack.

"This ends now!" Riley yelled out at him.

He spun around to see both her and Liam rushing toward him. He raised his sword, determined to put an end to the man who stood between him and the throne. He hesitated when Riley jumped in front of her husband.

"You're not taking him from me!" She raised her battle ax. "Every time you try, I will stop you."

Does Liam know how lucky he is? She waited on him to choose her. Twice! And now she stands here, ready to defend him to the death. How could any man not fall in love with Riley?

His refusal to fight her was his downfall. He was pushed over the banister by the royal couple. While his breath was knocked out, Maxwell and Hana bound his hands together behind his back.

He looked about at his fallen and captured comrades. His attention was drawn toward Olivia and Drake. The pair were covered in blood and bruises, yet they were leaning against each other. Drake had his arm around her while softly speaking. Whatever was said caused Olivia to press even closer to his side. Her arms slipped around his waist. Her eyes were closed tight as she allowed him to hold her.

Justin had suspected something more between the pair. It looked like his coup for the throne had accomplished something for them.

Bastien and the rest of the King's Guards rushed in. After talking to the king and new queen, he collected Justin and hauled him outside.

On the way, Justin met Riley's eyes.

There were so many things he wanted to explain to her. He believed she would have been on board with his plans for the kingdom. Once he had killed Liam and Olivia, he would be the benevolent king the country needed. Gone would be the purpose for pompous nobles. He would have established a council of Cordonia's citizens from all walks of life to advise him. People would be rewarded and honored for their service instead of simply being born to the right parents.

And she would have been his queen, guiding and protecting all she deemed worthy.

"Riley, I..."

"You will never ever hurt those I love again." She hissed.

"Take him away." Liam ordered, keeping his arms locked around his wife. "He will be dealt with in the morning."

Justin knew then that it was pointless to try and explain. She would never give him a chance after all that had occurred.

For the first time in his life, he realized that his intentions didn't matter to the one he loved most.

#the royal romance #trr #choices #trr liam #liam x riley #drake x olivia #justin x riley #choices the royal romance

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livlepretre · 3 years

Note

Are there any real life moments or feelings that have made their way or informed scenes in any of your fics? Not asking about anything very deep or personal (unless you want to go there). For example, something as small as knowing specific places or sensations and using that to inform scenes better.

Oh tons and tons!

I did get lucky in two respects with writing tvd fic specifically--

I'm actually a painter in real life, so all of those details about using oil paints are from long years of personal experience, as well as all of the parts about drawing. The show is dreadfully wrong about the technicalities of how paint works, like, in just about every scenario, so it does grant me some satisfaction to write about it for real. (and to pretend that Klaus isn't an awful painter) (Writing about Elena as a writer is so much the same, though-- it's special as a writer to get to access a character who also writes, because there's that immediate connection to the process and the feelings that go with it)

The other is that the Originals happens to be set in Nola (for some reason), which I know better than any other place on earth. When I write about that, I'm really writing a love letter.

In general, I try to write about the places I really know well-- Nola and NYC are both pretty drawn out as portraits of those places just because I've spent so much time there (but, ummm, notice that all they seem to do in NY is drink and look at art, which is basically how I spent my 20s there ha) I picked Barcelona for SWBS in particular because I've actually been there, so I could write about my impressions of it (which get heightened in memory... and maybe that's a good thing for fiction) so much better than if I had picked, say, Marseilles where I've never been. That also extends to writing about the feelings certain places evoke-- the descriptions from the Met and the Frick, the air of nostalgia about them, the descriptions of the hall of broken Greek statuary, are all taken from a journal I was working in back when I was spending the winter in New York City and having a bizarrely melancholy time spending all day by myself at the Met.

Experience in the landscape is part of that. Every rural place feels different, and drawing on the physicality of the locations I've spent a lot of time hiking in like New Hampshire for example has really grounded the work. Also, paying attention to the things that are interesting-- I paint landscapes, mostly, so the shape of the land, the color and quality of the lighting, the kinds of flowers and trees and rocks, even the weight or lightness of the air itself, are all things which draw my attention anyway, so it's very natural for me to want to add them to fic-- and they all evoke really powerful sense memory for me, so I try to overlay that with any writing about emotions or introspection.

A lot of the details that fill the story in are just taken from personal interests-- like the books Elena reads in the library are almost all books I've read and loved, and which are influences one way or another on that story. Same for the hapless cooking experiments.

There's obviously also a ton in FE that I've gotten from talking to other people-- I personally have a knack for killing all plants I touch, but my mentor loves to garden, and invites me to paint in his garden all the time, so that's taken from him; I'm far too impatient for yoga or meditation, but again, that's the sort of thing my sister really benefits from, so I've talked to her about the experience of it a lot.

I think the creeping around old houses and snooping through shut in antique curiosities is like a very prime memory from my childhood. My grandfather had this ancient enormous ramshackle house from the 1860s that definitely used to be lots of different smaller buildings but were at some point seamed together; now, my grandmother was a legitimate hoarder (I'm being completely literal, like she makes the hoarders on TLC look like jokes), and there were lots of rooms that were shut off from the main part of the house because they were so full of dusty old interesting things, as well as a few outbuildings like that. My grandfather was very old, in his 90s, when I was a child, too old for him to really keep the house up, so my cousins and siblings and I used to run wild all through this house playing hide and go seek in those shut off rooms and corridors and finding lots of weird and inexplicable objects my grandmother had bought at auction back in the 50s and 60s and piled up high at the house. There were six hundred year old vases mixed in with old record players from the 60s, sewing kits from the 30s and boxes full of letters my great-grandfather had written and little statuettes from India and China and Vietnam sitting atop little two hundred year old painted tables. Just the wildest mix of mundane artifacts from my grandparents' actual lives mixed in with all of these beautiful old objects my grandmother used to collect. I think a lot of Elena's creeping around and hunting through drawers and going down corridors to peer into secret rooms probably stems from that childhood immersed in my grandfather's house, and then all of the time I spent as a teenager helping my mom go through it all and try to make sense of it after he died-- there's probably a weird level of specificity to the names and mechanics of different antique objects and furnitures in FE because I had to learn all about it to help my mom categorize and sell all of those things.

And that kind of takes me to one of the main things I really wanted to write about in this fic-- a detailed and empathetic dive into depression. It's never sat well with me that depression is so often so poorly depicted in media, especially on tv, and that it gets treated like a story arc (tvd season 4 is one of the worst offenders in this regard-- Elena's depression and grief from her brother dying is like a 4 episode arc and it's offensive). I had very severe depression as a teenager, compounded with a lot of grief, and I will probably always be melancholy because some things are just indelible. As a teenager, I was very much so hemmed in by death, and I was very frightened all the time; I was really broken by that experience, and I used to think the loneliness had sunk so deep inside of me that I couldn't even feel lonely anymore, or wish for anyone else. I was probably about 26 before I finally healed from this. These feelings are all probably major reasons why I'm drawn to Elena Gilbert as a protagonist, and why I read her as I do-- I know there are a lot of people who disagree with my interpretation of her, and it's possible that I am so convinced of my character reading of her because I was 20 and still battling in the heart of all of that trauma from my teen years and I felt a resonance with her. So, in writing FE in particularly, and SWBS to a lesser extent, I wanted to write about depression as honestly, openly, and lovingly toward the depressed as I could. I also wanted to write about loneliness, and grief, and what it's like to emerge from those things-- slowly, painfully, with lots of stumbles and hard, hard days. I can recognize that the depictions of depression in FE are ultimately just a reflection of my own personal experience wrestling with it-- but I'm trying to tell an ultimately hopeful story, capable of staring down into the deepest darkness and still clawing its way up into the light. Learning to write honestly about these feelings was hard-- I was so used to protecting myself and pretending that I wasn't something that had once been smashed to pieces that I found myself downplaying the emotions in my writing, being less honest. There came a point there where I realized this story was only ever going to be what I wanted it to be if I did get really honest, as much as possible. I often think of this story as being especially dedicated to the readers who recognize that experience-- and I hope it does, ultimately, read as a story about healing, as dark as it is.

#sevensistersofsussex #asks #on writing #fairytale ending #swbs #personal

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

( SWEET MAGNOLIAS. )

He was your unlikely muse; you were the weird girl in the park. Could you make it any more obvious?

pairing. myg x named f!reader. s2l.

genre + rating. college!au. fluff, angst, smut. explicit.

tags / warnings. light cussing, yoongi being rightfully weirded out, a whole lotta softness, sadness if you squint at the right times, body painting, and then, of course, the most tender, dumbest lovemaking (unprotected but don’t be silly like them!). there’s also a really bad callback to the titanic. i’m not sorry. lol.

wc. 8.2k

You try not to stare for too long, sweeping your gaze in wide circles so as to be as inconspicuous as possible. You try not to let your eyes linger, follow the contours of his cheeks - soft, pronounced when he smiles - or the shape of his mouth - delicate, petal pink. You try not to make it weird - but it’s decidedly, very weird.

You just can’t help yourself.

He’s always here around this time, laid out on a worn red blanket. Sometimes, he reads. Books like The Alchemist and the Stranger and once, Dante’s Inferno. Other times, he pops a pair of headphones on - oversized, intimidatingly large over his ears - and closes his eyes. Most rare of all, is when he’s not alone, joined at the hip by at least one other boy and on occasion, an entire group of six.

They’re all interesting in their own ways.

There’s one with shoulders the size of boulders, a mountain range situated beneath his shirts. He has a weird laugh that sounds like windshield wipers and your mother’s spring cleaning routine. He yells a lot and even across the lawn, you can sometimes make out his voice.

There’s the tallest one, with kind eyes and dimples so deep you question if there’s treasure buried in them. He reads a lot, too. You’ve seen him in the library more times than you can count, always dutifully tucked away in a back corner surrounded by scattered looseleaf. Despite the course load he seems to have taken on, you’ve never seen him lose his cool. You have seen him lose his phone, though, and pencils and textbooks and AirPods.

There’s Hoseok, whose name you only know because he held your hair once at a fall sorority party. You hadn’t been drinking but somehow, somehow, your roommate had convinced you to apple bob with her. He’d been gracious enough to help you out, fisting your hair in a gentle grip. It’s what spurred you to now always have an elastic on your wrist.

There’s the dancer. He’s slight and even in stillness, far more graceful than you’ll ever be. He’s got pillowy lips and hair that gleams like silk. You’ve sketched him too, once or twice, but never more. It just didn’t feel right - as if you’d never be able to translate that sort of beauty onto paper.

There’s the one from your Art 340 Drawing II class. You’ve wondered, on more than one occasion, how come he isn’t the model. He’s got perfect proportions - defined jaw, strong nose, cheekbones carved from marble. It’s almost off-putting seeing him in person; it feels far more fitting for him to be displayed in a museum, with a plaque that reads Perfection, Mixed Media.

There’s the youngest one, Jungkook. They call him maknae despite the fact that he dwarfs nearly all of them. Maybe it’s just the clothes he wears: boots that look like they’d break your neck and everything in slightly darker shades of black. You run into him at least four times a week - trading greetings at the campus coffee shop and at the library. You’re practically best pals by college standards.

And then, of course, there’s him. Your muse. The one you can’t help but stare at - even when you’re trying your hardest not to. The one who wears glasses though you’re almost certain he doesn’t need them. The one whose smile is more gums than teeth, who looks unassuming and yet often breaks out into the strangest, most inspired dance moves you’ve ever seen. The one who plays recreational basketball on Tuesday nights and who drinks more coffee than you think should be humanly possible.

Min Yoongi.

You sketch him like you’ll never see him again, dragging charcoal strokes across paper until your hand is muddied and the curve of his ear is looking worse for wear. You repeat lines over and over, turning the mop of his hair into ringlets and waves, weaving dimension through the india ink that spills over his eyes. You sometimes add his glasses; you’re quite fond of the look on him.

You paint him sometimes, too, imagining how he’d look with periwinkle blue hair, or maybe dressed in shades of maroon. You swath him in textured fabrics and lovely watercolours, turning him into a fantasy that’ll never see the light of day. Pretty little daydreams with him fixed at the centre.

You fill your pages with his figure, the way he smiles when Hoseok does something silly or how he joins in when Jungkook laughs. You study every bit and piece, learning him in every admiring way you can - despite the fact that you don’t really know him at all.

It’s a staggering lesson in futility but one you take almost daily, armed with pencil and paper and not a single ounce of common sense.

That is, until you’ve done the stupidest thing imaginable.

No, not getting caught. Not in the traditional sense, at least. He hasn’t realised you sit on your bench - yes, your bench, with the sticky metal arm rest and illegible initials scratched into the back - and watch him almost every day. You thank your lucky stars for that.

What you’ve done is much worse - punishable by death by embarrassment.

You have no fucking clue where your sketchbook is.

You could’ve sworn you had it in your bag when you’d returned to your room last night. You can’t imagine you would’ve left it anywhere in the open, orphaning it on a campus full of idiots. You were always so careful. You don’t just lose things.

“I think it’s gone, girl.” You’ve never wanted to yell at your roommate more - not even when you’d caught her and her boyfriend banging in your bed after you’d come home early on the long weekend or when she’d eaten all of your Cherry Garcia ice cream. The desire bubbles about in your chest, fizzing angrily like an agitated soda bottle.

“It’s here somewhere.” The words grit between your teeth, insistent as can be.

“You’ve been looking for like, twenty minutes.”

“It’s here.”

“I really don’t think it is…” Jisoo doesn’t quite deserve how you explode, rounding on her with hands flying and eyes wild. “You’re also going to be late for your class.”

Your words falter with the verbalisation of hers.

Lucky for her; unlucky for you.

The hands of the clock above your desk wave at you mockingly. You are, indeed, going to be late for your class.

“Shit! Shit!” Everything you’d torn out gets shoved back into your tote bag. Band-Aids, mints, too many wayward pencils and pens. You almost forget your phone, attention only drawn to it when Jisoo catches the strap of your backpack and yanks you back.

“Don’t forget,” she hums, far more kindly than your harebrained self deserves.

You forget all the reasons you’re upset with her. “Thanks, Ji.” You force a kiss on her cheek before you’re darting out of your room and sprinting across campus to Art 340.

“Nice of you to join us, Miru.” It’s your professor greeting you as you run in fifteen minutes late, weaving through other students to find your seat near the far wall. Laughter follows you, coiling around your ankles and over your shoulders as you settle into your seat, fully hidden behind the oversized easel.

You can’t help the scarlet that paints your cheeks, creeping high across your temples. You know no one cares - that Professor Kinsella is probably the most laidback professor you’ve had in your four semesters - but it can’t be stopped. You’re already flustered from temporarily misplacing your sketchbook that everything else just feels like shit icing on your garbage cake.

“Sorry!” It squeaks out - a mouse, eaten up wholly by cat-ate-the-canary laughter that sounds over your shoulder and not very quietly.

“Having a bad day?”

You’ve heard the voice a handful of times so it shouldn’t shock you the way it does, nearly knocking the graphite from your hand.

“What?”

Kim Taehyung’s on the edge of his chair, one long leg stretched toward you, the other balanced across his knee. You’re not sure how that’s meant to be comfortable but he makes it look effortless. Then again, looking like him, living probably was effortlessly. You can’t deny you’re a little envious.

“Your face is all red. You’re out of breath. Feels like a bad day to me.”

You try not to dwell on the fact that, apparently, you look like an absolute mess. “No, I’m good.” It sounds fake even to your ears, tinny and wrought with anxiety.

“You sure?” He’s not really paying attention to you as he speaks, tracing the contours of the model across his canvas. He begins where you’d never think to, framing the main masses with a languid twist of his wrist. Unlike you, he doesn’t get caught up in the detail; he sees the bigger picture for all it is, building from the outside in.

You’re watching him for longer than you realise, whipping back around once it dawns on you. “Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

“Who knows.” There’s a playfulness in his tone that sets you on edge. You’ve never heard it before, all rounded vowels and molasses laughter. You mean to work as you listen, waiting for some indication of whatever lies just beneath the surface.

It’s a mistake. Your stick of charcoal snaps in half when he continues, low and slow as if he’s dragging it out.

“—maybe you lost a sketchbook?”

“Did you say…” You can’t finish the sentence. You feel like you’re about to be sick.

The amount of mischief in his expression should be illegal. It’s dancing in his eyes, curling wide and unabashed over his lips. It’s practically radiating off of him.

“So, bad day?”

He waits for you to pack up, hands tucked into the endless pockets of his black slacks. At any other time, in any other universe, you’d be giddy. Girls on campus would kill for even a second of Taehyung’s attention.

(It’s true - you’d heard a group of them talking about it one time.)

Here and now, you want to sink six feet under.

“They’re really good, you know.” As if the compliment will dull the mortification that threatens to cleave you in half. “You’re really good at capturing his boredom. That’s not easy.”

“Thanks.” You should make conversation; it’s the polite thing to do.

After all, he was kind enough to find and return your sketchbook. Better him than someone else, right? Better him than Yoongi himself? That’s what you tell yourself, at least.

Yoongi doesn’t know and therefore, it’s okay. Semi okay. Distantly related to the idea of okay.

As if he can read your mind, Taehyung speaks gently, with a hand that burns through the linen of your blouse. You know he means well but it sears white hot, eviscerating your nerve endings. “You have nothing to worry about. I didn’t tell him.”

You don’t answer him. There’s nothing to say - not really. You’re far too lost in your own thoughts to acknowledge the effort he’s making. Maybe this was life’s way of telling you to back off - to find another person to paint.

Or maybe it’s brought you two together, says the silly, naive angel on your shoulder.

You’re ready to flick her off - launch her like some kind of poor Tinkerbell - when your name catches your attention. It’s announced so dramatically that you double take, making sure you haven’t completely run through a picnic or accidentally slammed into someone.

“This is Miru.”

Cognisance comes slow and unhurried, even as your stare swivels wildly in search of context clues.

Laid out before you, right under that familiar magnolia tree, is one blanket, three bodies, and enough takeout to last you an entire week.

“Ohf, phey!” With cheeks stuffed full, it’s hard to make out the two syllables. They crowd against each other, offered in a garbled mess that has you regarding Jungkook with a mixture of concern and confusion. He’s swallowing thickly before he rises far too quickly; you watch a forgotten piece of kimbap go flying, lost to the dirt and bugs. “Sorry. Hi.”

“Do you want to join us?” It’s the angelic one, fitted with cherubic cheeks and a rounded Cupid’s bow. “I’m Jimin, by the way.” He pats the empty space beside him, eyes waning into crescents with the force of his friendliness.

Taehyung had asked if you wanted to grab dinner but you’d never imagined he meant this.

You’ve never been subtle but you try your damnedest to peek at him from your periphery. Unfortunately for you, he’s already sat down, fully made himself comfortable beside the last member of the group.

The one who, for all intents and purposes, appears as if he’d rather be anywhere but here. If looks could kill, you think.

“Don’t worry about him,” Jimin says, so sweetly, with a small bento lid held towards you. It’s already stacked with goodies - a selection of banchan and homemade-looking meatballs sitting alongside a poorly-shaped mound of rice. “Sometimes, he gets like this.”

You want to believe it. Really, you do, but by the way Yoongi’s mouth curls in distaste, all signs point to it being a matter of you rather than a mood.

“Maybe if she respected peoples’ privacy, I wouldn’t have an issue.”

It’s a single sentence quietly spoken and yet it feels like an open-palm slap to the face. Heat radiates over every visible inch, starkly coloured in contrast to the white of your top. It burns as it licks over your cheeks and past your temples, tipping your ears.

“I’m so sorry.” It isn’t clear who you’re apologizing to, the words tumbling wet off your tongue like a waterfall.

You’re gone before anyone can ask.

“That was a dick move.” Jungkook is the first to break the silence, levelling his friend with a disapproving stare. He’s not used to this side of him - the one that can tear a person apart with just a few words. It’s not the Yoongi he knows. It’s not really Yoongi at all.

“Yeah, hyung.” It’s thinner, but just as reproachful. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

Yoongi’s laugh is dismissive but he won’t meet anyone’s stare - a tell-tale sign that he’s just a little affected by their words - choosing instead to shovel bites of soondae into his mouth. “Mean what? Invading my privacy?”

“She’s an artist.” Taehyung doesn’t mean it as an excuse but by how Yoongi bristles, he’s certain the senior takes it as such. Before the argument can begin, he continues, all while wrapping a piece of samgyupsal in lettuce. “I doubt she meant any harm, so just cut her some slack.” Fringe is flicked away from his eyes, something sparkling in the pretty brown of his irises. “I’d actually be flattered, if I were you.”

“Then you be her model.”

You haven’t drawn in four days. Well, not really.

You’ve completed what you need for classes, filling your books with mandatory figures and notes on colour theory. You’ve diligently mapped out proportions and brought to life sunsets and sceneries. You’ve done everything you should be doing but nothing that you want to be.

It just doesn’t feel right. Not anymore.

“I hear he’s a really nice guy.” You can’t count how many times Jisoo has tried to cheer you up. From picking up your favourite ice cream (the one she tends to devour anyway) to ordering in fried chicken, she’s been the picture perfect roommate. It only makes you feel that much worse.

You were moping over something that was your fault. And she had to pick up the pieces! It seemed wildly unfair but when you’d told her to stop - insisted upon it with a wail into your pillow - she’d simply shook her head and wrapped you in her arms.

For all of your stupid, silly little rows, Kang Jisoo was the best roommate you’d had in your entire university career.

“Just go outside.” She’s perched on the edge of her bed, painting her toes a brilliant shade of neon green. She’d offered to do yours too, but you’ve more or less refused to leave the comfort of your burrito blanket for anything beyond classes or food. “You can’t avoid him forever.”

“I can try,” you mumble, words lost to the cotton of your sheets.

Try - and fail, it seemed. You’d already run into him twice. Twice! Even after you’d started taking absurdly long roundabout routes to your classes, the universe had conspired against you.

The first time he’d been walking out of the gym, shoulder to shoulder with another upperclassmen you didn’t recognize. You’d seen him coming from a mile away thanks to his obnoxiously bright Lakers jersey and you’d booked it back the way you’d come, nearly mowing down a couple making kissy faces at each other in front of the lecture hall.

The second time was yesterday afternoon. You’d thought he’d be in his usual spot - so close to your usual spot - that you’d gone to the coffee shop for a midday pick-me-up. Even embarrassed, you weren’t about to suffer a caffeine deficiency. You’d rounded the corner in the same instance he had and you’d sworn he’d seen you, recognition flickering across his face. Fortunately, there’d been a door directly to your right and you’d all but thrown yourself inside.

It was the first and hopefully last time you’d be in a men’s washroom.

“I thought you were tougher than this,” Jisoo hums, equal parts disapproval and kindness. She levels you with a stare - you can feel it burning into your fortress of blankets - and sighs. It’s a bit dramatic, you think.

“Tell me you wouldn’t be doing the exact same thing!”

Then again, she’d probably never be stupid enough to lose something so important nor would she fixate so heavily on one person. Your point still stands.

“Seriously, girl.”

Her nail polish bottle bounces off your bed, tumbling to the floor with a quiet thump. You look up in time to see her staring at you imploringly, so wide-eyed and innocent you can’t help but be a little suspicious. “What?”

“I wanted to have Andy over.”

It all falls into place then. Her boyfriend’s in a frat and your (poor) dorm room is the only place they have any sort of privacy. It makes you want to gag but you can’t blame her. You’ve always had an unspoken agreement; you’d just tossed it out the window the past few days.

Guilt prompts you to extract yourself from your duvet, though you don’t stop the chorus of gross, gross, gross! as you begin gathering your things. You almost leave your sketchbook, only opting to tuck it under your arm at the last minute.

“Please, please, don’t use my bed this time.”

“We love you!” She sing-songs as you tug your sneakers on and slip into the hallway.

You’re at a different bench across campus when you hear the voice. It comes from behind you and to your left, accusatory and sharp. You nearly jump out of your own skin, toppling over your water bottle and plastic paint palette. Orange watercolour soaks into the material on your thigh. Dammit.

“Are you following me?”

Min Yoongi stands not three feet from you, arms folded over his chest.

Your heart stutters at the sight of him. It’s hard to speak when it feels like it’s leapt into your throat.

“What?” You hate how you sound - a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. You have nothing to be ashamed of. At least, not right now. You’d come all the way here, as far from the magnolia tree and red blanket as you could.

“I said—” His words are glacial and biting. It’s suddenly winter, far chillier than spring should be. You wish you’d brought a sweater or maybe, that the ground would open up and swallow you whole. You can’t be cold when you’re dead. “—are you following me?”

“Of course not!”

There’s nothing but disbelief in his expression. It paints itself in broad strokes, prominent in the shadows beneath his eyes and the curl of his mouth. He says nothing.

“Really. I’m not.” You’re insistent, apologetic. Every nerve ending is shot, going haywire beneath your skin and lighting you up in shades of red. The tips of your fingers are tingling. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You wonder if he’s baiting you now.

“For…” Words are cherry-picked and perfect, chosen with a shaking head and the utmost care. “I shouldn’t have drawn you without asking.”

“No shit,” he returns, completely deadpan. He’s really not making this any easier.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” you continue, a little hopeful and a lot bashful. “I just— I don’t get inspiration like this that often. So I couldn’t let it go.” You don’t need to add what you do, but you do so anyway, because you’ve never been great at making good choices. “Your face is really unique and when you’re happy, it’s just so expressive and your smile is—”

There’s a siren blaring in your ears. A red alert going off so loudly you almost miss the way he laughs.

It’s not the same one he offers to his best friends - far more reserved, exceedingly softer - but it’s there and it’s real and you don’t think you’ll ever forget this moment.

“You’re laughing.”

He stops immediately. Fair.

“I’m sorry.” Again. More. Draped in apology and optimism that peeks out between your teeth and shines in the dark of your stare. “Even though I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I did, and for that I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

It’s hard to read him, even after you’ve spent hours studying his face. There’s a distinct difference between seeing someone and knowing them, you realize. You might be able to map out every wrinkle of his eyes - replicate every dot and freckle - but you have no idea what it all means or how it comes together to create something more.

Silence fits between the two of you for what feels like a long time. It’s not uncomfortable, though, so you allow it to settle. You figure it’s better than his anger, in any case.

“You could’ve just asked me.”

You can’t wipe the disbelief from your face. “Would you have said yes?”

Yoongi shrugs, a small roll of his shoulders beneath the oversized sweater that dwarfs his frame. “Don’t know, but I would’ve appreciated it.”

Because that’s really what it came down to - the thought, not the action. He’s not entirely sure you understand that yet but he’s willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Blame his softening on the steady repetitions Taehyung and Jungkook have made the past few days. You were lucky to have them in your corner - even if that meant they’d been a thorn in his side.

“Then… can I sketch you?” You’re probably (read: definitely) pushing it. You can’t help it.

He doesn’t know whether to laugh or scoff at your audacity. He decides on the former, with a shake of his head that swings his bangs across his forehead and a small, private smile. “Maybe next time.”

“Next time?” You imagine he can’t hear you as he’s backing away and disappearing the way he came.

“See you tomorrow.”

True to his word, Yoongi lets you draw him the next time you see him (and the next time and the time after that).

It’s different - working off someone who knows they’re being studied. He holds himself a little more stiffly, a little more carefully. His laughter isn’t quite as loud, his smiles more forced. He apologises, even though he doesn’t need to.

Even his untrained eye can see how you struggle to bring life to a robot.

Over time, though, it comes - comfort.

Like the quietly burning coals that melt him down from the inside out, he begins to warm up to you. It comes slowly but it comes nonetheless, as steady as the sun. You appreciate his effort - his patience - more than you can ever say.

You know he gets it, though. He always does. It’s a Yoongi thing.

“You can relax.”

It’s just the two of you, swathed in sweat and waning light that casts shadows across his cheeks. The days are longer than they’ve ever been and the both of you tend to lose track of time, spending hours under that magnolia tree.

“I am relaxed,” he returns, sinking further onto his back, elbows hardly acting to prop him up. He’d been engrossed in a novel for the first half of the afternoon. Another book you’d never bothered to read outside of high school English class. You never really understood it - you much preferred to watch than read - but you loved when he’d recite the words to you, clear and bright and better than any melody.

“You’re trying to stay awake.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“No. You’re just as good of a model when you’re sleeping.”

The smile is lazy, hazy like Sunday morning. It reveals his gums and ticks higher on the left side. It makes your heart skip a beat.

“Go ahead then,” he continues. The entirety of his body sags, drops onto the bag he likes to use as a makeshift pillow. You don’t imagine it’s all that comfortable but he never complains.

“If you’re tired, we can just head in, you know.”

You always offer. He never says yes.

A part of you thinks he likes the attention. It’s different from what he receives from anyone else - thoughtful and careful. You think he might like the quiet, too. The benefit of quality time without any of the effort.

So you push on, charcoal edge meeting paper once more. “Just another twenty minutes.”

“Why me?”

The enquiry comes one day, completely out of the blue. It skips your heart and breaks the pastel in your fingers, dust chalking them a lovely shade of lilac.

“What?” You’re not ready for how close Yoongi is - much closer than he ever is - and you shift back, away from the face you’ve spent months filling your sketchbooks with. “Why you what?”

He’s completely nonchalant as he moves even closer.

You can smell his cologne - a distinctly masculine fragrance that’s musk and cedar - and the coffee he’s been nursing for the last hour. It fills your senses, recentring all of your focus so intensely that you don’t immediately recognise he’s continued speaking.

“Why’d you choose to draw me? Why not someone else?” He seems genuinely curious, even though it feels dangerous - a dangling string that’s meant to unravel you.

The answer doesn’t come easily, despite the fact it’s something you’ve asked yourself.

Why him? Why Min Yoongi?

“I don’t know,” you answer, perhaps too honestly. “I saw you and it sort of… just clicked.” How it sounds doesn’t escape you - like something plucked out of a bad romance novel. “I didn’t expect it to be you. I thought I’d draw you once - okay, twice - and then I’d move onto another subject. But I just… couldn’t?”

“So, what you’re telling me is it was love at first sight?” It’s glaringly obvious he’s teasing you. He’s got that grin of his, sly and feline as it creeps across his mouth.

You don’t bristle, instead painted bright red like the sunset that streaks across the sky.

“I— I wouldn’t say that.”

“Well, you didn’t say otherwise.”

It’s an uncomfortable line of questioning. You’re not used to it and certainly not from him. You hesitate to speak, turning words over and over on your tongue in an effort to make yourself clear.

You’re not weird. You don’t want this to be weird. But you can’t deny - it’s, decidedly, still very weird.

He tries again - a different tactic this time. One that surprises you, despite the unique friendship you’ve forged over the past few months. “What if I told you I was glad?”

“Glad?” It feels like an echo chamber. Repetition. As if you’re going in circles, chasing a tail that remains just out of reach. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“What if I told you I’m happy we met?”

Your blink is owlish, fully caught off-guard. “I’d say the same thing. I’m happy we’re friends.”

Amusement rolls off him in waves, evidenced by the laugh that curls into the afternoon. He shimmies closer and closer until there’s barely three inches between you. His knee knocks against yours, bony and denim-clad. You try to ignore the way it burns through your own jeans, sparking heat all the way up to the tips of your ears and down into the soles of your feet.

“What if I told you I don’t want to be just friends anymore?”

It’s not a surprise, really. It’s something that’s been on your mind the past few weeks, sown by offhand comments and little gestures you haven’t been able to ignore. Jungkook had even practically shouted it at you just the other night.

“I’d say…” You trail off, lost somewhere among the constellations in his eyes.

“You’d say?” The words are parroted back at you, threaded together by gossamer thin hope.

“I’d say you’re welcome. For choosing you.” The confidence isn’t your own. It comes from him, crafted by the support he offers easily, hands out like keys. Keys to his heart, you realise belatedly, with a sudden bashfulness. Of course.

He can’t wipe the smile from his face. It eats up every inch, dominating even the playfulness that shines through, turning it the prettiest shade. It stands bright against his cheeks, staining the pale apples red. “That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say?”

You’re suddenly very determined - because you want to give this to him. Just as he’s given you everything you wanted, you want to do the same. In this little cut-out piece of paradise, there’s nothing quite as important.

The one word isn’t much but it feels like a turning point. “Yes.”

“You want me to say ‘yes’?”

He nods, just once. There’s so much certainty you can’t doubt him.

“Then yes—”

It doesn’t matter what you’ve just said yes to. It doesn’t even matter that it could be something awful or really, anything under the sun. All that matters is the feeling of his lips, soft and warm and dry on yours. It’s better than any painting you’ve ever seen, any song you’ve ever heard. It fills you wholly, stuttering your heart and bubbling giddiness in the pit of your stomach.

You probably sound a little silly, surprisingly breathless from such a little thing. “Wow.”

“Good things happen when you ask,” he states, solemnly. You’d take him more seriously if he weren’t so dopey, grinning at you like he never has before.

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Nope.”

Luckily, you don’t mind. Not if it gets you another kiss.

You tell him as much and he happily obliges, stealing your breath and replacing it with sugar-coated stardust. You ponder whether you might be able to create with those same particles, turning them into colourful streaks to paint his cheeks. You’d like to find out.

You want a lot of things with Min Yoongi, you decide.

You don’t know how you ended up here.

Actually, that’s a lie. You do. All because of a dumb joke, uttered in passing by Taehyung and now ingrained so deeply in your psyche that you haven’t gone a single day without thinking about it.

“Get out of there,” he whispers right against your temple, lips following to soothe whatever’s got you preoccupied.

“Where?”

“Right there, idiot.” Fingers tap twice, a quick one-two against the side of your head.

You can’t help but grimace, a wrinkling of your nose that your boyfriend chuckles at, pressing kisses across the bridge and over your cheeks. “Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry - just come back to me.” To this moment, he means.

This strange little scene, with his fingers dressed in non-toxic paint and you stripped down to nothing but a flimsy cotton bra and thong.

Have him paint you like one of his French girls, Taehyung had said. It’ll be fun, he’d said.

You think it might be - if you weren’t bouncing with nerves, all five feet three inches of you fizzling with anticipation. Yoongi was only painting you. This was a bonding exercise. Something to bring you closer, to breach the gap between lovestruck artist and inspired musician. Nothing more.

“You’re beautiful, you know.” It’s not meant to be a reassurance but simply a passing comment, like looking at the sky or seeing it snow. So straightforward it makes you laugh, the sound bubbling about in your throat.

“Thanks, Yoongi.”

“No, seriously.” He levels you with a look. You know the one - a touch stern but ultimately playful. “I wanted to make something beautiful but…” Digits wiggle, Atlantic blue sweeping over the tips and up his knuckles like the sea. “I can’t really improve on something that’s already perfect.”

Your cheeks light on fire, as brilliantly coloured as the red in his - your - palette.

He thinks it looks pretty against his hands. The same ones that cradle your cheek, so precisely you want to remind him you’re a canvas and not clay.

“You’re silly.”

“ You’re silly,” he returns, as if that’ll somehow win him this battle of wits.

The roll of your eyes is undeniable. “Good one.”

“You know, I’ve got a ton of paint, right? Not your best choice, making fun of me.” He punctuates each word with passes of his fingers. Colour appears wherever he travels, dragged over your skin with dreamy twists of his wrist. A line here, a circle there. Goosebumps follow in their wake despite the fact that his touch is like candle wax - soothing and deliberate.

You wonder, idly, whether he can feel you burning up beneath him.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs again, almost to himself as he dips his fingers into another dot of paint. Pink this time - in the same shade as the magnolias outside. He spreads the colour over your chest, right where your heart beats an erratic rhythm.

He takes his time in admiring his handiwork, swirling the two shades together until it’s the most flattering shade of purple.

You try - and fail - to ignore the way it stirs something behind your ribs. A need that flickers to life without any sort of warning and has you pressing your thighs together.

“Can I take this off?” It comes abruptly, with eyes that snap up to yours. There’s already a hand tucked beneath the small of your back, right under your shoulders. He already knows your answer - can see it in the blown out pupils that reflect his entire world back at him. He still wants to hear it.

You’re unable to find your voice. It’s gone, stolen by the way he ghosts his fingers up and down the sensitive notches of your spine. You could get lost in this feeling, if he let you. You almost do, only nodding when he moves no further, flat of his palm a solid weight right against the clasp of your bra.

You don’t mind that the band is coloured pink and blue when he tosses it aside. You don’t have it in you to focus on anything but how he studies you now. Openly admires you, like you’re the most incredible thing he’s ever seen.

“What?” Mellifluous and adoring. Music to his ears.

“I think I’m getting distracted.”

“I think so, too.”

“Is that okay?” He speaks more to your boobs than you, single stained hand coming to rest across your ribs. The pad of his thumb swipes over a single bud, perked and already far too sensitive. He’d put his mouth on it, if not for the fact it’s now covered in paint.

Fortunately, there’s still so much of you - places he hasn’t explored but suddenly, desperately needs to.

From the column of your throat and all the way down to the valley of your breasts, he offers sweet kisses. Open-mouthed adoration that leaves you needy and breathless and writing. He catches your untouched nipple between his teeth, gently working it into the same state as its tinted twin.

You shift beneath him, unable to stop the bolt of electricity that rips through you like a thousand volts. It cracks your composure like lightning and sends your pulse racing like thunder. “Of course.”

He hums, content, and nearly falls, dropping his cheek fully against your chest. You’re so soft beneath him, velvet and pliant under his tongue.

“I think I love you.” It’s his voice but your words, spoken so faintly you almost miss it against the roaring in your ears.

“I think I love you, too.”

Yoongi stares up at you then, so full of wonder that you can’t help but look away. It’s an incredibly intimate moment - so much emotion carried in one simple look that you’re not quite sure how to process it. He’d been your inspiration and now you were his. The realisation is almost too much, filling you until you feel like you might float away.

His hands act as an anchor, keeping you here with him.

“You don’t have to say it back.” It’s careful, loaded with his heart and every key to open it.

“I know - I want to.”

He grins so breathlessly handsome that you can’t help but return it, rubied cheeks crystallised with delight. Those same paint-stained hands of his find their newly discovered favourite home of your chest and he sounds like sin when he speaks. “I want you.”

“You can have me.”

It’s all he needs before he’s ducking down and smothering every uncovered inch of you in sweetness. His mouth burns hot but he’s unbearably gentle, searing the shape of his mouth over your breasts and across your collarbone. He licks and sucks as he goes, soothing any ache left behind by the edge of his teeth.

You’re not quite sure where the bites end and the paint begins. It’s all so pretty you don’t mind either way.

But it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough, you think, even as you whine airily, words stuttering out in a half-formed breath. “Please touch me.”

“Where?” He’s hardly given you room to answer, crowded so closely against you that you can feel his heartbeat all the way through to your own. He’s so warm - so solid - upon you that you almost want to tell him that here, just as he is, is perfect.

A momentary lapse in lust before rational judgment is clouded yet again.

Instead - and with more demand than you mean - you grind purposefully against him. A benefit to having him sitting how he is, knees hooked on either side of your hips. He can’t pretend like he doesn’t feel it, cock twitching beneath the constraints of his boxer-briefs.

Your eyes meet and he chuckles, nuzzling his head back into that spot between your neck and shoulder that has you whimpering. The sound alone drives him crazy.

“You’ll be the death of me.” Yoongi knows this like he knows the sky is blue or your smile is his favourite sight.

You’re teasing him when you catch his face, palms cradling the shape of his jaw. “Then it’ll be a good death.”

He doesn’t disagree - especially when he slips his clean hand along the length of your body. He tweaks your nipple on its descent, tickles the underside of your ribs, and then finds the band of your underwear, all in one fell swoop. A digit dips below the elastic, neatly clipped nail grazing the jut of your hip before shifting and dropping further.

You keen when the pad of his finger grazes your clit.

“Do that again.” He doesn’t need to tell you twice. When he repeats the motion, the sound spills off your tongue without restraint.

He slips further down, pressing his hand to gently part your folds. Digits glide easily, coated in slick that drips between your legs and sorely tests his patience. Yoongi’s not sure what he’d expected but this is so much better it’s making his head spin - and he hasn’t even felt you yet.

“You’re so wet, love.” Shame would swallow you whole if not for the way he speaks with reverence. “How badly do you want this?”

“Don’t tease,” you huff, rutting uselessly against the fingers that tease your centre, barely slipping in before resuming a lazy, leisurely path back up to the bundle of nerves that throbs at the contact. He’s hardly touched you and you’re already at a six, entire body alight with need that thrums heavy in your veins.

“Just tell me.”

“I want this. I need this.” You hope he believes you. You’re not sure what you’ll do if he doesn’t. “I need to feel you - please.”

His entire world is spinning, kicked on its axis by the way your tone pitches, demands and begs in the same lilting voice he so adores but has never quite heard like this. He loves it. “I need to stretch you out. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You whine so prettily he almost cracks. It’s enough to have him choking on his own words, not that he’s saying anything. He’s too focused on how he sinks into you - a single digit but so tightly it feels like there’s no way he’ll survive his cock buried inside.

You’re a dream come true. He never wants to wake up.

“More. Please.” You’re so polite, he almost laughs. You’d really taken his words to heart - always asking for what you wanted now. He can’t deny how proud he is. It blossoms in his chest, juxtaposed greatly against the salaciousness that drives him to do exactly as you ask.

His index finger slips in alongside the other. You make that noise he loves, grinding your core against the flat of his palm as he curls his knuckles and seeks out that spot. He knows he’s struck gold when he taps it experimentally, pressure turning light but unrelenting when a choked cry ricochets off your tongue and onto his sweat-slicked shoulder.

“Right there?”

Your nod is enough of an answer.

He redoubles his efforts, fucking you with measured glides of his fingers and precise presses against your g-spot. In no time at all, you’re barely coherent, mumbling his name in a slew of breaths that has him grinning. You’re a sight to behold, moaning so obscenely you’d be ashamed you weren’t so preoccupied by the fact that every part of you feels as if it’s about to splinter.

“Miru— Princess—” Your clit aches and you nearly shriek when he applies pressure against it with the pad of his thumb, swiping your cum over it in slow circles. He wants you so badly - just as bad as you want him- but he’s torn halfway between watching you unravel by his hand and wanting that same euphoria when he’s buried home in your dripping pussy.

“Please, please, please.” There are tears in your eyes. You’re so close you can practically taste it, entire body shaking with the effort of keeping the coil from snapping. “Yoongi, please.”

He’s a fucking goner then, filling you with a third finger and grinding his palm against your clit as you come apart beneath him.

It starts in your toes, stealing feeling all the way up your calves and over your thighs. You’re only aware you’re trembling because it vibrates through Yoongi’s body, looped back to yours when he mouths across your shoulders, sucking memories into your heated, sweat-sweet skin. The stimulation is what keeps you from floating off on a cloud of bliss, the warmth in the pit of your stomach liquifying your bones.

“Are you tired?” Because you certainly look tired - too fucked out to properly meet his stare as he looms over you, both hands adjusted to rest comfortably over your hips.

You are, but it doesn't matter. You haven’t gotten what you wanted - not really - and you aren’t about to let it go without asking.

He’d taught you that.

You smile up at him, doe-eyed and alluring. A hand reaches for his, curls around the fingers still glossy with your slick, and squeezes. “I still need you.”

They’re words he’ll never tire of - also words that have him kicking out of his briefs and rolling your thong down your legs, all too eager. He’s painfully hard, leaking pre-cum and purple at the tip, but he fists himself in slow, measured pumps regardless. It’s a show for you, more than anything.

“ Please.” So pretty, so ready. He can’t resist.

Yoongi sinks against you, the head of his cock brushing through your folds as he slots himself into place with his paint-free hand. The other, still coloured garishly bright, brushes the curve of your lip, the delicate skin beneath your eye. It’s so tender you can’t help but blink, caught off-guard.

“I love you,” you say, though you’re sure he’s meant to, too. You can read it in his eyes - brilliant and bright like a beacon in the night.

He speaks with a roguish grin and a fluid press of his hips. “I know.”

You fit like two puzzle pieces, the stretch perfect as he sinks deeper, a low groan sounding from somewhere deep in his chest. You’re so tight around him but he glides in easily, coaxed to fill you by your wetness and the soft, whiny noises you make.

“Holy shit,” he manages once he’s buried as deep as he can go, head spinning with the way you clench around him, nearly stealing the words off his tongue. “Am I dreaming?”

Laughter is a salve - a catch-all remedy for anything that ails him. It pulls him to the here and now, drawing his attention from the overwhelming bliss that creeps up his spine and recentring it on you, beautiful and bashful beneath him.

“No, you’re not.” It’s a caricature of your voice but he doesn’t mind. He loves that he can bring you to this.

“Thank God.”

Except it’s not God you’re thanking when Yoongi begins to move against you, dragging his cock through your walls with such slow, measured strokes you think you might combust. It’s his name when he pulls almost fully out of you, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock, before snapping forward to bury himself to the hilt. It’s his name that rolls off your tongue like a mantra, hoping and praying and begging for more as he consumes you wholly, in no half measures.

It’s him - Min Yoongi, your muse, your love - that has you crying out, pleasure coursing through your veins as he adjusts and fills you at a completely new angle, brushing against your g-spot with every thrust of his hips.

“Yoongi - please.” You’re chanting the two words again, turning them into a song he’ll never get out of his head, when you spasm around him. His eyes nearly roll back into his head, the sensation turning his rhythm sloppy as he chases the same high. The hand that had previously been propping him up falls, thumb seeking out your clit as he charges toward the precipice.

“One more, love. Once more for me, okay? I want you to come with me.”

He asks so nicely you can’t deny him - even as the overstimulation takes over. You’re shaking so badly you’re not sure how he keeps you in place; it’s a tremor that won’t stop, traipsing over every limb until you’re sobbing.

“I love you,” he chokes out as he tumbles over the edge, falling headlong into climax with you in tow. It’s so strong it feels like it blinds you, spotting your vision with white as he fills you with his cum and continues to fuck you through it, milking every last moment just like you were his slowly softening cock.

You don’t have it in you to answer, far too exhausted by the last orgasm that has your limbs turned to jelly. Yoongi doesn’t mind though; he likes the just-fucked afterglow and how you sink into his arms when he slips out of you and onto his side.

He eyes the cum that spills onto your thighs, pearlescent and going to waste. He has half a mind to push it back where it belongs.

He only doesn’t because of the words you speak next, hardly above a whisper but loud enough that he groans, burying his face into your hair. “So, thanks, Taehyung?”

“Can you not?” It’s a playful response, with teeth bared against the sweat-slicked nape of your neck.

“Sorry.” A beat. He wonders if you’ve fallen asleep suddenly. “I meant thanks, Titanic.”

author note. this was a drabble prompt i got from the lovely @hecticwonderer and i kind of just... ran with it. oops.

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icollectyoursins · 3 years

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Gift Headcanons Melone x Reader

Look. I know the holidays have just passed, but I am unashamedly a SIMP for all of La Squadra and I wanna give them gifts. I just love them. So here, have some (mostly) tender gift giving and receiving for da boyz. I’m excluding Sorbet and Gelato because I know next to nothing about them, sorry!

This one was very hard to keep this one SFW, but I tried!

Risotto

Prosciutto

Pesci

Illuso

Formaggio

Ghiaccio

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: Mostly SFW, second bit is light NSFW, no sex, but lingerie is involved.

Word Count: 1559

Giving:

Melone is uh... gross, so most of his gifts are sort of sexual, even if you don’t know it (like very large heels). That being said, he does give some sweet gifts every now and then! It’s always something you’ve been eying for a while or boasting about and 100% a pleasant surprise that makes the nasty things so worth it.

He loves getting you jewelry! Anything from earrings, rings, bracelets, necklaces, body piercings, body jewelry that wraps around you. He just loves making you shine! Or, he’ll impress you with fancy drinks in ridiculous bottles (looking at you Crystal Head Vodka), weird things that he can enjoy with you and then use to decorate the house with. Also (unsurprisingly) lingerie. Any kind that looks good on you he will get it.

He’s honestly a mix of both private and open when giving gifts. You’re together and close, but not 100% alone. He wants a few people to see how happy you two are.

You sat on the couch with a phone in one hand scrolling through social media while the other idly rubbed circles into Melone’s back. He was hunched over his computer, typing various commands with nimble fingers. It had been so far into the relationship at this point that you didn’t even bother asking what he was doing. You were just there to make sure he didn’t mess up his back too much.

Suddenly, he sat up, stretching out his back before looking over to you, head still tilted back slightly. He smiled in a way that would have been sweet if it wasn’t Melone, but you got the message. You think.

“I have something for you, mio caro/mia cara. Would you like it?” He purred. There was something about the sparkle in his pretty blue/green eyes that made you curious and hesitant at the same time.

“That depends. Am I going to like it?” You teased, letting out a light chuckle which he returned.

“Of course!” He said, voice full of false defensiveness. “When have I ever given you something you didn’t like?”

“Do you want a list? I can give you a list!” He laughed again, getting off the couch, waving his hand dismissively at you.

“No, no need for a list. Just stay where you are, I’ll be back.” Melone kissed the top of your head as he passed behind you. “Oh, and close your eyes.”

You couldn’t even get out a final quip or protest. He was through the doorway with a coy wink and a smile. You rolled your eyes before closing them, waiting patiently for him to return, though you did look at your phone one time while waiting. What can you say? He took a little longer than you expected and so you had some extra time!

Finally, he came back with two gifts in hand. One long, slender gift bag which you assumed had some kind of alcohol in it and the other was a thin box wrapped in ribbon. The grin on his face said that this was either innocent, harmless gifts, or something a little on the more devious side. You couldn’t quite tell.

He swiftly made his way back to the couch, placing the box in your hand while he began showing off the mystery contents of the bag. With slow elegance, he pulled out a rather odd and sensual liquor bottle. He presents it to you on an open palm. From the clearness, you could tell that it was probably vodka or something like that. The bottle was a glass-blown pinup of a woman with her arms folded over her head. Definitely vodka. Only people who made vodka would be this extra. And only Melone would buy a bottle of a naked woman.

The wicked grin on his face told you that he was very proud of this piece. You laughed light-heartedly, examining the bottle in your hands.

“Well, it’s certainly unusual!” You mused. “As long as the drink is good, I don’t care!” He grinned, licking his lips as his eyes drifted down to the box. This was his favourite part of tonight. Unless something else were to happen, but that was entirely up to you.

Setting the bottle down on the coffee table you moved on, pulling the bow apart with ease. Taking the lid off revealed a thin layer of tissue paper with holographic dots on it, how cute. Underneath was-

“Melone!” You shrieked. He only chuckled.

“There’s more than that, amor mio/amore mio. Here, let me!” He reached it, pulling out a beautiful, delicate gold chain that looked as though it wrapped around your torso with smaller chains crossing over your chest. There was a matching bottom too, with glittering gold hanging off what would be your hips if you were wearing it.

“Oh, Melone!” Ah, there it was, that wonderful joy only he could bring out. Like music to his ears! “They’re beautiful, thank you so much!”

He swiftly caught you in a hug, pulling you close to him before he brought your face up to his, pulling you into a passionate kiss that left you breathless. Everyone around you who was staring turned away, giving you a little bit of privacy.

Receiving:

Oh my god, does this man love being spoiled. Melone will love pretty much anything you give him. Honestly, probably was sugar baby at some point (or maybe he’s yours), but yeah, happy receiving lots and lots of gifts from you.

I can see him enjoying sweet things with whipped cream and strawberries, lots of sparkly things and shiny things. Basically, anything he would get you, he would also enjoy receiving. If it’s something you can use erm... together *wink wink* he is, like, basically drooling already.

Does not care how you give him the gift, though if you have the guts to give him that kind of gift in front of people, he will absolutely feel something stir in him. But for the most part, he’s happy with anything.

You adjusted your “outfit” in the mirror while you were waiting for Melone to find your little treasure hunt. It wasn’t much, just a few small notes hinting towards something more and more as he got closer.

It started at the door with a cookie and a note telling him to follow the trail to his gift. Once he read it, he was excited in more ways than one. He followed the notes around the house. Some told him to do chores like fold the laundry to get to the bottom where the next clue was, or water the plants.

He loved every minute of it, happily pairing each sock with its missing partner and smoothing out any creases in shirts. A sweet tune hummed from his chest while he sprayed each delicate flower, smelling the sweet scent until he got dizzy and feeling each leaf to make sure it was healthy before moving onto the next. It was agonizingly slow for both of you, though that was the point. If you were going to tease him all the way to the bedroom, then he was going to make you sit and wait.

Melone’s eyes flicked up to the clock. He’d been there an hour already. Poor thing must be so tired waiting. But, he still has more chores to do, right? His suspicions were confirmed when he found another note, hidden in a succulent, telling him to grab something from the fridge.

“Di molto! I wonder what that could be?” He asked the air sarcastically before practically skipping to the fridge where he found another slip of paper saying to look for something sweet and light. A hummed chuckle buzzed on his lips. “Hmm, sweet and light. Sweet and light. I wonder what that could be?”

You rolled your eyes. The kitchen wasn’t too far from where you were hidden in the bedroom, so you could hear every exaggerated word that he said. You scoffed, muttering out some kind of insult under your breath.

“Sweet and- Ah! This will be perfect.” He mused, grabbing 2 things from the fridge. You hoped one of them wasn’t honey, but then again, who would keep honey in the fridge? Honestly, probably Melone. Not for any particular reason, just because!

The door was closed with a joking hip jerk. He didn’t even bother looking for the next clues. He just made his way straight to the bedroom, calling out to you as he entered. You were nowhere to be found, much to his dismay. However, he did find the box you left for him on the bed.

Eagerly, he tossed what was in his arms onto the bed, then the box lid as he plunged into the gift. His eyes grew wide as he pulled out a harness he’d only been dreaming about using for years. A sound of pleasure rolled through his body. That’s when you came out of your hiding spot, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

“Oh, you spoil me, mio caro/mia cara!”

“I know, just don’t get whipped cream on the bed. Or strawberry leaves.” Melone laughed darkly, turning around and wrapping his arms around you.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispered against your lips before smashing into them gently. As far as he was concerned, he would do whatever you wanted after tonight!

-----

Translations:

mio caro/mia cara = my darling (masc and fem)

amor mio/amore mio = my love (masc and fem)

#melone #melone x reader #melone jojo #melone prompts #sfw

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neoyi · 3 years

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I don’t think I’ll ever get to humorously commentate on KH2 piece-by-piece as I tried to do for the first two games (and god knows if I’ll wrap up Re:chain of Memories with the writing method I was doing, but I digress.) I like talking about this endearingly dumb series and replaying this game is a nice opportunity to revisit how I feel now versus how I felt back when I was a fresh-out-of-high-school Neo playing this game for the first time back in 2005.

So I’m going to surmise my current play session (this collects my thoughts up to the Hercules world) with easily containable bullet points.

*I kind of want to make a separate post about the infamous prologue and discuss how people felt Back in the Days (an understatement, let me tell ya), and ultimately what I feel it does for the game and whether I personally liked it, so I'm going to leave that in the back burner for the time.

I will say Twilight Town sounds like a nice, quiet place to live. I love the concept of a city that's always perpetually sunset. It's a beautiful place and like Traverse Town, sports an amazingly cozy soundtrack.

*I'm sure there's some bullshit reason why, but I don't get why Sora's one year absence meant some of the people he's met just....forgot him. Like why? What purpose does this serve? This especially affected Kairi, but it’s ultimately negligible because she regains her memories of him during the beginning portions of the game.

Was this Namine's doing? Was it to protect Sora from the bad guys or something? Why hasn't Riku forgotten him? Was Namine just selective on who she erased Sora's existence from? Did Kairi forget just because she’s connected to Namine? Or Sora? What purpose does this narrative serve? What was the point?

*Speaking of, I forgot, did they ever explain why Riku disguised himself as Ansem? I don’t remember if they ever explained it when I played through this game, but also I haven’t touched KHII in six thousand years, so I don’t remember a lot of the more convoluted parts of the plot.

*It is comical to see Setzer of Final Fantasy VI fame turn from a risky, gambling sky pirate who doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the empire, only cares for the freedom of the skies, and enduring survival’s guilt over a tragic loss of someone dear to him into a...

Whiffle Bat Champion.

*My sheer excitement and obsession when they first announced Vivi as one of the FF cameo was astronomical. I remember keeping a DeviantArt journal detailing any news and screencaps of the little guy pre-release. Still my favorite character from the whole franchise.

Even if he suffers the same fate as Donald and has a zipper on his mage hat for absolutely no reason other than this game existing during Nomura’s Belt-and-Zippers phase.

*Someone’s going to get sued one day because these damn kids keeps sitting atop the clock tower that has yet to be grafted with bars to prevent their inevitable deaths when one of them slips and falls.

*I swear I could play a six degrees of Kingdom Hearts with all the voice actors in this game. Or at least a "Whozit" and "Whatzit" they've done in other media (like Yuffie who is voiced by Mae "Katara" Whitman here. Pre-Avatar, even.)

Also I’m sorry, Will Friedle, you’re a fine voice actor, but you’re...Terry McGinnis. Batman told me he “totally owned all you lamers.”

*I love the Nobody enemy designs. The sheer creepiness and uncanny valley of them all lends credit to their existence as, well, non-existences. The Dusk enemy design alone is inspired with its unsettling belts wrapped around its fingers, or terrifyingly sharp teeth subtly hidden inside of its mouth. I can imagine the creature unzipping its mouth to reveal a set of flesh-eating teeth and the fear is real.

I love the way it flies and circles around its victim, almost like it’s trying to wrap itself around you, but I’m especially fond of that one attack where it essentially kicks you as while it sashays over to you upside down.

The Samurai Dusk also has my favorite reaction command. It’s just unspeakably badass.

*I never liked Squall in FF8 back then (don't know how I'd feel now if I ever replay FF8) and he was just okay in the first Kingdom Hearts, but I remember I really endeared myself to his reappearance in KHII. Squall in this game is what happens when he grew up, found good friends and family, and got some therapy for his issues. He’s stoic, but always a team player, and supportive of Sora and the people around him. KHII Squall is what FF8 Squall has the potential to be once he reaches adulthood and it’s nice to see that here.

*I really love the little changes the developers inputted for Sora, Kairi, and Riku's models to accommodate for their physical growth. Riku's is the most obvious (boy clearly ate his vegetables), but I like that you can tell Sora grew not just through story observations (Yen Sid points out how he outgrew his old garbs) but by comparing his height in relation to Goofy. Sora was shorter than him in the first game, but has since outgrown him in KH2.

Along with his better skill set during combat, this is a really nice way to visually shown how far Sora has come and how much time has passed.

This also goes in the opposite direction with Namine whom I think had to redo her mod when they remastered Chain of Memories for 3D. I notice she looks younger in that game than in KHII which would make sense at the time since it takes place a full year ago.

...Well, maybe. Can Nobodies age???

*Damn it, game, don’t give me a pouch containing 5,000 munny and treat it as an in-game key item that I can’t use even though munny is literally the currency I use to buy things.

*The retooling and emphasis on battle mechanics means the platforming element of the first really suffers and that’s a damn shame. I wasn’t particularly in love with exploring the Disney Worlds in the first KH, but I appreciate the effort put into so Sora could not easily get from Point A to Point B.

Even finding treasure chests is comical and if not for sake of posterity for anyone going for 100%, I wonder why Jiminy bothers to keep track of how many you find. There were literally like three out in plain view the minute I entered the Mulan world.

*Speaking of level designs, yeesh, the layout is not optimal for the skateboarding minigame.

*Trying to design a gummi ship in this game requires a masters degree in gummiology and metaphysical engineering, as well as the ability to tap into the 4th dimensional. The 45,000 page instructional manual they give you, the odd grid map used to piece together your ship (fair, the latter was also in the first game), and finicky button controller layout means it took me a while to fully grasp what I was suppose to do and I’m still not sure I got a full handle of it just yet.

*I don’t understand why Sora had to use a physical object as a conduit in each world to open up a metaphysical gate to the next world. He never had to use an in-between to close it. What’s the exception outside of unnecessary symbolic tie-in to the individual worlds he’s in?

*Props to the developers for recreating the ballroom. It’s actually kind of majestic to look at the beautiful ceiling and chandelier design from Sora’s perspective.

*There are a couple of random gameplay elements I forgot completely existed and seemingly there for arbitrary purposes. I just find it unusual that Mulan’s world forces you to collect literal manifestation of morale. It’s like the developers decided they wanted to reuse the Struggle minigames’ balls into a repurposed Morale Ball because well shit, someone programmed these things they’re damn well going to put it to good use.

I guess if Sora and pals don’t literally collect morale, all the soldiers will be, I don’t know, sad and die in battle or something.

*I’m aware Disney villains using the Heartless as their personal army is the norm, but it’s tonally weird when it’s Shan-Yu of all characters doing it. The infamous Charge-In-The-Snowy-Mountain scene doesn’t quite have the leg up in terms of threat when his army consist of adorable Heartless bumblebees.

*You know what pointless shit I am obsessed with? The stupid puzzle pieces scattered throughout the game. This is the first time I’m playing the Final Mix game and I’m just seething at the lack of abilities I currently do not have that prevents me from reaching certain pieces.

*Auron was instantaneously my favorite character when I first played FFX twenty years ago, and his return in KH2 sent me in fangirlish squeals. How could I not? Look at this handsome bastard. He’s calm, collected, badass with a cool sword, has rugged good looks (he doesn’t have it here, but he rocks some killer shades), and a good dad. That’s prime DILF quality right there. Of course I can’t get enough of him.

Square Enix knows we can’t get enough of him; dude be all “fuck off hades” and gives the god the middle fingers and fucks off elsewhere. Auron is King Shit.

*Oh man, do I still have my old Sora figurine? I think I got him in Katsucon way back in 2009.

*So who’s done a drinking game every time the game introduces Sora, Donald, and Goofy individually to every character they meet?

*Hey, so I noticed Square Enix is finally moving their asses and bringing the Ultimania books to the US. I doubt they’re going to bring the older KH Ultimanias overseas (my kingdom for an officially translated FFIX one), but ya know. I kinda think that yeah, I might want the KHIII Ultimania.

...Just saying.

*GET UP ON THE HYDRA’S BACK! GET UP ON THE HYDRA’S BACK! GET UP ON THE HYDRA’S BACK! GET UP ON THE HYDRA’S BACK!

GET UP ON THE HYDRA’S BACK!

#kingdom hearts #neoyi talks #kingdom hearts II

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ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult · 5 years

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Reality Check-Euphoria Imagine

Requested: No Warnings: mentions of trauma and a scene of an attempted sexual assault

A/N: I’m back from a super long break! I am so sorry I have not been able to update this blog since I started grad school but I have a bit of a break to write a bit. I just finished Euphoria so after this imagine, I’ll get started on the requests.

I own nothing from Euphoria and do not claim to own anything

Gif is from:geek-ramblings

Everything in italics in the story is Rue’s narration

Y/N Y/L/N wanted to be a princess for as long as she could remember. It didn’t hurt that every Disney movie and other piece of media designed for little girls endorsed this dream. One of those movies was the 1997 Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella starring Whitney Houston, Brandi, Whoopi Goldberg, and Victor Garber. It was the first time Y/N saw a princess who looked like her and it solidified that her dreams were possible. She watched that movie every day for three years and knows the soundtrack by heart. When her older cousin, McKay, irritated her, she would belt “Impossible/It’s Possible” at the top of her lungs in retaliation. While McKay was pushed to his limits on the football field, Y/N would twirl around in her living room during the ballroom sequence, pretending as though she had a dashing partner who would whisk her away. Her parents didn’t mind this dream since it suggested that she was as “normal” as a little girl could be. Eventually, Y/N’s mother put her in dance classes so that she could learn how to be graceful and dance with real people. Y/N fell in love with dancing since it gave her a way to express herself without speaking. Y/N was one of the sweetest people ever, but she was so shy and nervous, and I didn’t get it. Once she got comfortable, she actually had some things to say and a decent sense of humor. What she rarely let anyone know was she still dreamed of finding her prince, even though East Highland was overrun with frogs. In middle school, Y/N focused on studying and dancing while everyone else was practice dating (ie talking for a few hours on Facebook Messenger and avoiding eye contact in the hallway save a few nervous glances). She was hopeful that she would meet her prince in high school since that’s how it worked in the movies and what her older cousins had her believe. Y/N learned quickly that high was not like the movies and did not entertain herself with frivolous things, something Maddy called her out on at lunch one day.

“I’m right so don’t even try to fight me about it,” Maddy affirmed from across the table.

The cafeteria was busy and smelled of semi-fresh food and bubblegum. Y/N, Maddy, Cassie, BB, and Kat sat at their usual table. Y/N paused mid-bite into her cucumber sandwich and closed her mouth as soon as she realized it was hanging open.

“What?”

“You don’t do anything outside of school and dance team unless we drag you out and that needs to change,” Maddy insisted.

“I do other things,” Y/N said hesitantly.

“Yeah, like what? And it can’t be anything that you would use for college!”

Y/N racked her brain for a few moments. “Well, I watch movies and I read----”

“Fun things!” Maddy interrupted.

“Like gettin’ d-ck,” BB added.

Y/N’s face warmed up and she looked away from BB. “B, why’d you have to say it like that?”

“Well, at the end of the day, all that romance sh-t you’re into is just a pretty form of foreplay.”

“No, it’s not, they’re displays of affection and they’re beautiful. I know you all think romance is dead but I can’t and I don’t want to settle for that.” Y/N nodded her head in the direction of a table of guys who were concocting potions by mixing up the lunch of day with milk.

Cassie grabbed Y/N’s hand. “No one would expect you of all people to settle, but you haven’t dated anyone and there are some good guys in this town if not in this school. We just want to see you happy.”

Y/N could tell that Cassie was being sincere by the look in her eyes, all her friends were, but they also knew why Y/N behaved a certain way. The summer before eighth grade, Y/N saw the texts on her mom’s phone between her and a man that was not Y/N’s dad. It sickened her to her core, and she had no idea how to process it. Suddenly, her parents’ nightly arguments coupled with her mother’s late returns from nights out with “a friend” made more sense. She did not tell either of them that she knew and kept quiet about it. If she did not acknowledge it, she thought it would go away. She threw herself into dancing and studying, which did not raise any eyebrows. One night, Y/N, Maddy, Cassie, Lexi, and I went to the movies to see a Twilight movie. When she stepped out to get a popcorn refill, she saw her mother standing on the other side of the theater, smiling and flirting with a man who had to be in his seventies. Y/N managed to keep it together until we got back to Cassie and Lexie’s, where she broke down and told us everything. We hugged her and tried to calm her down, but there was nothing we could say that would repair her heart. Y/N’s mom officially stopped cheating when Y/N was fifteen but by then, the damage was already done. Her parents wanted to work on their marriage but neglected their child’s emotional and mental wellbeing since Y/N was so good and pretending she was fine. Her grades were excellent, she was the youngest co-captain of East Highland High’s dance team, and she stayed out of trouble. But if you really look at her, you can see the heartbreak in her big, coffee-colored eyes. Despite this, Y/N was convinced that there was a great guy out there for her, but she was extremely reluctant to date. She prayed that college would be better than high school and she would find the courage to date then.

“I love and appreciate your guys’ concern so much, but I am not about to give up my,” Y/N paused and glanced around the cafeteria before whispering, “virginity just to fit in, no offense.”

“Come on, Y/N, you may look and act all pure but you have to be dying to know what good d-ck feels like,” Maddy whined.

She had been, Y/N was human and not a total saint after all.

“I can wait, really.”

“So, have you just not been interested in any guys? I know plenty who are interested in you,” Cassie added.

“What?” Y/N was baffled by the loaded statement.

“Come on, Y/N, you know you’re hot,” Kat said.

“Your legs go up to your neck, Sis,” BB blurted as she nibbled on a Twizzler.

“Your face is basically perfectly symmetrical, it disgusts me,” Maddy said, emphasizing her statement with hand gestures.

Y/N chuckled nervously under the attention. “Thanks, guys.”

“But, is there anyone that interests you?”

Y/N glanced down at the tops of her metallic rose gold sandals. “No, not really.”

That was a total f-cking lie. Since fourth grade, Y/N harbored a crush on Nate that was fueled by when he shoved Caleb Parker after Caleb shoved Y/N during a game of tag in gym class. When Nate helped her stand on her feet, he was basically her knight in shining armor. Nate fit Y/N’s type perfectly: tall, dark hair, dark eyes, killer smile, and kind. Y/N never said anything, but anyone could tell just by observing the way she looked at him and the fact that she could never string together a decent sentence around him. This did not stop her from daydreaming about him and watching him from afar. She thought that maybe she could impress him with her dancing, and he would be forced to make a move. Y/N paid close attention to what Nate liked and disliked about girls, leading to religious mani-pedis and waxing. I tried to talk her out of it freshman year, but I can’t blame her for ignoring a junkie’s advice. When Maddy and Nate started dating, Y/N tried to cut off her attraction to Nate because she loved Maddy like a sister. She stopped pining after him but wished that she had a tenth of the confidence Maddy had.

“That’s it, we’re going to a party on Friday and you are going to meet a guy,” Maddy demanded.

“What?”

“Relax, you don’t have to sleep with him…unless you want to.” BB wiggled her eyebrows and Maddy, Cassie, and Kat burst into giggles.

“I think I can start off with kissing.”

“Have you even kissed a guy?” BB shot back.

“Yes, I have.”

In second grade, Travis Williams was double-dared to kiss Y/N on the playground. She knew that he wasn’t her prince charming since he produced too much saliva, and he was dared to do it. It gave her a weird complex about how attractive she was since no one really approached her. Sure, there were guys at parties but they just wanted something warm to slide into, not a real relationship.

After practice, Y/N and Maddy sat across from each other with their legs spread out, pulling each other back and forth to stretch.

“You really went in with this number, my legs are still killing me,” Maddy moaned as Y/N tugged her hands.

“Well, Alia wants to do something super impressive for homecoming; it’s not my fault she was so inspired by Homecoming.” Y/N relaxed her back while Maddy gently pulled Y/N’s arms towards her.

She relished in the stretch as her muscles released. Alia had tasked her with working on the homecoming choreography a month ago and the only requirement was it had to be set to Beyoncé’s “Diva/Everybody Mad” mix. It was tricky choreography, complete with acrobatics and lifts, but it would be entertaining.

“Well, we better do Beyonce well because she deserves nothing but the best.” Maddy’s expression dropped.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N turned and saw Nate heading towards them. He was so gorgeous even though he was in a black t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. His hair looked perfect for finger-combing and Y/N could just see his muscles flexing with every step he took.

Y/N could never relax around Nate, even though she tried everything----slowing her breathing, counting backwards from twenty, and imagining him with food poisoning since no one looks good with that. But nothing worked, nothing ever worked, and she was forced to do whatever she could think of in the moment.

“Hey, Y/N,” Nate greeted.

“Hi,” Y/N breathed.

“Maddy,” he looked at her and Maddy rolled her eyes.

“What?”

“Are you done stretching? I’m giving you a ride and we can’t be late, remember?”

“Well, it doesn’t really matter since I always take too f-cking long to get ready.”

Nate sighed. “Maddy, I didn’t mean it…”

“I can go,” Y/N volunteered meekly, suddenly very aware that she was still sweaty from practice and needed to shower.

“No, Y/N, stay,” Maddy said, “stay so you can hear the bullsh-t he comes up with.”

They argued for about five minutes, all of which Y/N used to make herself as small as possible. She knew they had a dysfunctional relationship and that was the last thing Y/N wanted, she’d seen how they worked. If the couple weren’t arguing with each other, they would rant about the other person to a friend. Maddy did it all the time, but she was nowhere near as bad as Y/N’s dad. Her dad spoke explicitly about Y/N’s mother’s activities when things were really bad. It was always late at night and Y/N was not always sleeping over at someone’s house. Her father would rant for hours and force Y/N to sit there and listen. Whenever she tried to ask him to stop, he would say, “Tell your mother to stop, she did this. I didn’t do anything!”. Y/N cried a lot more than she would let anyone know. She wanted so badly to be whisked away from East Highland, preferably by a tall, handsome prince who would take care of all of her worries. She would be comfortable around him and feel loved. After Maddy and Nate’s argument, Y/N was able to slip away and go home.

Y/N stepped out of a relaxing shower when she heard the low rumbling that started before every argument. The walls of her room felt closer than usual and she could easily run her hands over the lavender and white checked wallpaper. Everything felt so far away and she felt much smaller than five-foot-nine. Y/N slowly curled into a ball on her bed and shook as the rumbling grew higher.

“Please stop,” she whispered.

It persisted.

“Please, please stop,” she repeated.

Y/N kept repeating herself for so long that she did not know how long it took before her parents burst into her room. Her mother wrapped her up in arms and rocked her while her dad tried to get her to talk.

“What’s the problem?” he asked.

“The fighting, it’s loud,” she whispered.

“Well, you can’t react like this every time we have an argument, Y/N. You’ll fall apart as an adult,” Mr. Y/L/N affirmed.

“Dinner is almost ready,” Mrs. Y/L/N said and kissed her forehead.

When they left the room, Y/N felt dejected and uninterested in food. Just as she was about to start lotioning, her phone dinged. It was Maddy.

Maddy: Football party’s on Friday. UR GOING.

It wasn’t a difficult decision for Y/N to make. Her parents gave her a generous curfew since Y/N wouldn’t go out every weekend. But her parents didn’t care how she felt so they shouldn’t care about what she did for once. And if they didn’t care, then why should she? It wasn’t like she going to engage in an orgy or something.

Y/N: You had me at football.

Scott Callahan’s giant house was filled with smoke and strobing lights on Friday night. People were dancing and drinking half-naked in his front lawn and inside was another kind of pandemonium. There was every kind of expensive alcohol one could imagine scattered throughout the house, marijuana, Percocet, molly, and cocaine. Travis Scott’s “Sicko Mode” was blasting through the surround-sound speakers and people were either dancing, grinding, or making out to it. Y/N arrived at the party with Jules and Rue. Hours prior, Y/N gave Jules free reign to do whatever she wanted with her makeup.

“Ugh, I have been waiting ever since we met for this moment. No, maybe even before then,” Jules said as she swiped silver glitter around Y/N’s eyes.

Cassie, Maddy, BB, and Kat already helped Y/N pick out an outfit a day before via Facetime: a shiny silver mini dress with platforms. Y/N had been nervous as Jules helped her do her makeup and put some waves in her shoulder-length dark hair. But the finished product made her look like a totally different person.

“Is that me?” Y/N had whispered as she stared at herself in the mirror.

Jules rest her chin on Y/N’s shoulder. “Yes, it is, the shinier version.”

“You look good, Y/N,” Rue complimented.

“Thanks, Rue. Are you sure you’re okay with me drinking tonight? I feel so weird and guilty.”

“Yes, it’s fine,” Rue had insisted. “I just got out of rehab and I don’t wanna go back.”

“And I don’t want you to, either,” Jules added.

Y/N agreed.

Y/N still felt weird about drinking around Rue once they arrived at the party, but Rue insisted that Y/N and Jules have fun. Several guys stared as Y/N walked past, but that could have been attributed to Jules’ neon green corset dress with matching hair or Rue’s tie-dye ensemble. When they reached the kitchen, they found Kat and BB doing tequila shots. Their eyes lit up at the trio.

“Finally, you’re here!” Kat hugged Rue, Jules, and Y/N.

“Did you miss us?” Jules teased.

“Little bit. You guys want a shot?”

“I’m DD-ing, or DR-ing since it’s a bike,” Rue said.

“Or DB-ing, for bicycling,” Y/N added.

BB poured Jules and Y/N shots and handed them over. They cheered before downing the alcohol. The tequila burned down Y/N’s throat and Y/N fought the urge to cough. She’d had alcohol before but she did not drink as often as her friends. Y/N immediately felt the liquid courage coursing through her as she slid her shot glass towards BB.

“Another one?” BB arched an eyebrow.

“Are you complaining?”

“Not at all, you look hot by the way.”

“Thanks.”

“I did her makeup,” Jules said.

Y/N laughed and continued drinking.

I watched as her third shot became her fifth, and then Jules made them both screwdrivers and she made them strong. I’d only seen Y/N drunk once and that was at freshman winter formal. Maddy convinced her that Gatorade and Everclear were a good mix. She was tripping over herself for most of the night, so there was no telling what she might do.

“Crap, I forgot to tell you, Maddy and Nate broke up again,” Kat said.

“Why?” Y/N asked.

“Stupid same old bullsh-t, probably,” Rue said.

“Where is Maddy, anyway?”

“Last I knew, she was outside with Cassie,” BB said.

Y/N finished her screwdriver. “Let’s go, then.”

Y/N was surprisingly agile as she weaved her way through the crowd and lead the way outside. Maddy and Cassie were easy to spot since they were standing by the lounge chairs and rolling their eyes at every guy who tried to talk to them.

“Maddy, Cassie!” Y/N announced.

They both looked up and smiled at her.

“Y/N, you look amazing,” Cassie said.

“Thanks, and you look great as per usual.”

“You’ve been drinking,” Cassie said.

Y/N nodded.

Cassie and Maddy greeted Rue, Jules, Kat, and BB.

“Hey, I’m sorry about Nate,” Y/N said.

“It’s fine, I don’t need him and I could get any guy here I want. Besides, it gives me the chance to focus more on getting you a guy,” Maddy said.

“Oh, Maddy, don’t worry about me.”

“No, that’s why we’re here. Now, let’s do some shots and scope!”

The shots were easy but finding a good guy was not. Y/N was officially drunk and giggled a lot whenever the guys Maddy or Cassie found spoke to her. Y/N would push the guys she didn’t like away, which was the majority of them.

“Alright, you rejected eight dudes, why?” Maddy asked over City Girls’ “Act Up”.

“Well, one had horrible halitsosissss and another kept talking about how he had never been with a black girl before.”

“Which one said the last thing?” Cassie asked.

Y/N shrugged and drank more beer. “Seriously, do not worry about me, guys, I’m fine, I just wanna have fun.”

“Yes, fun!” an equally inebriated Jules commented.

At that moment, Lizzo’s “Truth Hurts” started playing and Jules and Y/N screamed in unison.

“I love this song!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Me too!” Jules said.

“Let’s dance!” Y/N turned to the rest of the girls and extended her hand. “You have to join us, it’s Lizzo, it’s basically law.”

“Yeah, basically law,” Jules echoed.

The others couldn’t argue, and they all moved to the dancefloor, which was really the living room. Jules twirled Rue around even though Rue was reluctant, and BB started grinding on some basketball player. Meanwhile, Maddy, Cassie, and Y/N alternated between shouting the lyrics and moving their hips to the beat.

Dance truly set Y/N free, but the song also helped. There was something about Lizzo’s voice and choice of beat that made Y/N want to dance and never stop. She would move her arms and hands and feel more fluid than water. For once, she wasn’t calculating each step and making sure she was on beat, she was simply reacting to the music.

Towards the end of the song, Y/N muttered that she was going outside to Cassie and slipped away from the circle. Y/N found herself enjoying the fresh air and giggled to herself when she saw a couple going to second base by the pool.

“Y/N, I didn’t think you was into watchin’ people,” Fez teased.

He was sitting on a beach chair in a corner a few yards away from the back door. He was wearing a navy, yellow, and red Coogi sweater with jeans. He was fully reclined in his chair and smoking a joint.

“You don’t know a lot of things about me,” Y/N shot back as she walked towards him.

She plopped down on the seat across from him and tried to steady herself.

“You good, Y/N?”

“Yeah, just drank a lot more than usual.” Y/N eyed Fez’s joint. “You know, in all this time I’ve known you, you’ve never offered me drugs.”

“No disrespect, I just didn’t think you’d be into it, didn’t seem like the type.”

“Oh yeah? Then what do I seem like?” Y/N leaned towards Fez and arched her back a little.

Fez blew some smoke away from Y/N and tried not to stare at her. “You…you look like the type to stay away from this stuff and even me.”

Y/N laughed and shooed the thought away. “How could I stay away from you, Fez? You have the best snacks at the gas station. Plus, I like talking to you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you have an interesting but simple way of looking at things.”

Fez looked as though he was thinking for a long moment as he smoked his joint. “I knew I liked you for a reason. You act all quiet and nervous usually but you got a lot to say and say it in a good way.” He extended the joint towards Y/N. “Be careful.”

Y/N focused as hard as she could to grab the joint with two fingers. She’d only smoked once with Rue and Rue was the one to drag her over to Fezco to get the weed. Y/N remembered coughing a lot, but she knew how to avoid that. She took two long drags before handing the joint back to Fez.

“Thanks, Fez. We should talk more later.”

“Sure, if you feelin’ up to it. I’m here all night.”

Y/N stumbled back into the house, her full intentions to find her friends. Then, she heard the beginning strains of Kanye West’s “Father Stretch My Hands Pt. 1” and she smiled to herself. She started spinning around in time to the music, twisting her arms up and down as she did. Her hips began to sway gently to the rhythm. She ran her hands through her hair and exhaled.

Y/N was lost again and wrapped up in the beat. She usually did not drop low outside of the comfort of her bedroom, but the alcohol mixed with the weed mixed with the great music made her think differently. She was free and everyone else around her was free. There was nothing to worry about and she could let go of her inhibitions. It didn’t matter that none of the guys at the party were her type nor really interested her, she was having too much fun. But little did Y/N know that someone had their eye on her since she started dancing to “Truth Hurts”.

Y/N felt someone push up against her from behind, followed by hands slink around her hips. Her eyes fluttered open and she covered the large hands with her own. “Sorry, I don’t----" She stopped when she made eye contact with Nate. “I’m high,” she muttered.

“I don’t know about that, but you’ve definitely been drinking.”

Y/N tried to ignore the way his gravelly voice made her stomach drop to her heels or how she felt like everything was throbbing. She shook her head and backed away from him. “I can’t…you just broke up with Maddy.”

“Y/N, please don’t.” Nate looked worried as he took cautious steps towards her.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, and everyone else, Nate had a fascination with her that bordered on obsession. He noticed her in fourth grade and how much she got excited about reading and history lessons. Even then, Nate thought Y/N was innocent and so quiet. He was curious about her but never really approached her until that day in gym. That day was a godsend so that he could show off how strong he was and get her to talk. All he got was a “Thanks” and “I’m okay”. Nate was disappointed, but he didn’t stop looking out for her. He made sure none of the football players went after her, which McKay appreciated but he thought Nate was doing it as a friend. No, Nate was doing it because he knew that football players were animals and Y/N was high above them. Maddy was too but Maddy was different .She was so much more confident and bold than Y/N was, and she was a virgin when Nate asked her out. But Maddy liked to fight with him and test him and Y/N wouldn’t do that----she was too sweet and would most likely want to resolve everything as quickly as possible. So, she was unofficially his and Y/N had no idea.

Y/N kept shaking her head as tears welled up in her eyes. “I can’t do this, Maddy’s like a sister to me.”

“Y/N, breathe, please.” Nate took another step and when Y/N didn’t move, he got close enough to grab her forearms and rub them soothingly. “You’re allowed to dance with me, all we did was dance.”

“That was not dancing, I’m a dancer, I would know.” Y/N tilted her head back to will the tears away.

“You look beautiful, seriously. Don’t cry.” He tried to touch her face, but Y/N backed away.

“Thank you, but I think we should stop talking.”

“You always look beautiful, especially when your hair is down, it frames your face nicely.” He brushed some hair off her shoulder.

“Nate, stop.” A tear rolled down her cheek.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“I know you’re doing this to make Maddy jealous, it’s what you always do, it’s the same game!” Y/N cried, but it was masked by the music. “I’m…I’m not going to be your pawn in this weird game, Nate. I deserve better than that.”

Nate reached out and cupped the side of her face in one hand. “Oh, Y/N, you would never be a pawn and I’m not playing with you. Maddy’s not gonna care if you dance with me, she’s not even here.”

Y/N glanced around the room and didn’t see Maddy anywhere. She suddenly got a sinking feeling and looked back at Nate. “I’m just not comfortable with doing anything with you, she’s my friend.”

“And I would never want to ruin that and I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable; I just wanted a chance to dance with the prettiest girl at the party.”

Y/N snapped her eyes to him. “You think I’m the prettiest girl here?”

Nate nodded. “But if you don’t want to dance with me…”

“Fine, one dance.” Y/N held up her pointer finger for emphasis. “And we’re done.”

“Deal.”

“Good.”

The song changed to “One Dance” and Y/N was stiff for a moment. She never really did partner dancing and was lost. Nate sensed this, grabbed one of her hands, and spun her around. She laughed and swiveled her hips to the beat. Nate continued twirling her around and watched Y/N move to the music. When he spun her out again, Nate pulled her back in and held her close. Y/N did everything in her power to fight to gnawing desire to melt into his embrace. He felt so strong and protective. Y/N stared at the collar of his t-shirt to avoid eye contact and kept her hands on his chest.

“This isn’t fair,” she whispered.

“What isn’t fair?” “I’ve had a crush on you since elementary school and the time you decide you want me, it’s just after your break up with one of my best friends.” Y/N buried her head in her hands. “I’m such a bad friend, I should go.”

Nate held her there and stared her down. “Go and do what?”

“Um, find my friends.”

“And then what?”

“Dance?”

“Just like you’re dancing with me?”

“No, not this close and you know that.” Y/N stepped back. “We should stop.”

“But, you said you’ve liked me for a long time.”

“I did, but I want to be a good friend. I’m sorry, Nate.”

Y/N really didn’t want to, but she pulled away from Nate. She couldn’t believe she’d spent a whole song dancing so close with her friend’s ex. Maddy would kill her if she found out. Maybe if Y/N told her first, things would not be as bad.

“If we can’t dance, can we at least talk?”

Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly.

Nate grabbed her hand and led her upstairs. A few coked out people and couples pushed past them and Y/N felt more and more nervous. They found an empty bedroom and Nate closed the door behind them. The room was dark and Y/N found a light.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” she made herself comfortable on the bed.

Nate sat next to her and clasped his hands together. “Things with Maddy and me have always been f-ckin’ crazy and they will always be. She always wants to fight when there shouldn’t be a fight.”

“If you wanted to complain to someone about your ex, you could have found someone who wasn’t her friend.”

“Stop, what I’m saying is I don’t like it, it’s exhausting, and…and we bring out the worst in each other. But you, I don’t think you would do that to me.” He glanced down at Y/N’s hands. “You’re kind and you want the best for everyone.”

“I try.”

“You would never want to hurt anyone on purpose and you listen, you really listen, and I feel like I could tell you anything.”

Y/N nodded.

“The truth is, I’ve liked you since fourth grade too, but I never asked you out because you seemed disinterested.”

“How’d you get that?”

“Whenever I tried to talk to you, you wouldn’t talk and I thought that meant you didn’t like me. So, I started going out with Maddy because she was clear about that, but now, I think we could be something.”

“Just like that? But what about my friends? Maddy and I have the same friends and I don’t want to hurt Maddy.”

“You can make new friends and you’ll have me.” Nate leaned closer to Y/N. “C’mon, Y/N, you know you want this. You’re always thinking of other people, be selfish for once.”

In that strange bedroom, with the guy she had been crushing on for so long begging her to do something to him, Y/N was at an impasse. She loved Maddy like a sister and didn’t want to divide the group, but Nate was making so many good points. The only reason she did well in school was to please her parents and the only reason she would go out was to please her friends. She didn’t do anything to please herself and this was her chance.

Nate leaned closer to Y/N and looked up at her for confirmation. Y/N closed her eyes and relished in the feeling of Nate’s lips against hers. They were slightly chapped but he knew how to use them, applying pressure in the right places at the right times. His hands went to her waist and Y/N wrapped hers around his neck. He slid her into his lap and Y/N gasped.

“Did I scare you?” he whispered.

“A little,” Y/N murmured.

He rubbed her sides and kept kissing her, adding tongue. Y/N shyly tapped her tongue against his and he smirked into it. He rolled his hips underneath her and Y/N gasped at the shocking feeling, pulling away.

“Does it feel good?”

Y/N nodded.

“Say it.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, it feels good.”

Nate nipped at her neck and Y/N moaned out, grinding down on him. Nate’s hands tensed around her hips. “You’re so hot,” he whispered in her ear.

Y/N laughed.

“Seriously, I’ve thought about what this would be like, what we would be like.”

“And?”

“And, so far, it’s better than I thought.” He kissed down to her collarbone and palmed her chest. “I’ve thought about these.” “Really? But they’re so small.”

“No, they’re just right.” He bit the base of her neck and Y/N hissed. “I’ve also thought about your legs, how they distract me during practice when you guys are outside. They’re so soft but firm.”

Nate kissed her again and pinned her on the bed. Y/N gasped as she felt one of Nate’s hands trail up her dress. Her mind was jumbled up and she didn’t know what to think. Everything he did felt so good, he knew just where to kiss and nip. He looked at her with full-blown lust in his eyes. Maybe Y/N had finally found the prince she’d been waiting for, but he was always there.

Then, his hand went a little too high. She squirmed and shook her head.

“Nate, that’s a little too much.”

“What?”

“I said it’s a little too much,” she repeated louder.

“I thought you liked it, don’t you want this? Isn’t this what you’ve always thought about?” Nate tangled his hand in her underwear.

“Nate, stop, I don’t want to do this.”

“You weren’t acting that way earlier.”

“Nate, please, stop.”

“You don’t want me to stop.”

“Yes, I do, please!”

Y/N tried to push him away but Nate pinned her down. He rolled his hips into hers and Y/N turned away, tears falling down her cheeks.

“Do you feel how much I want you? I’d do just about anything to have you.”

“Nate, stop!”

“Shut up!” Nate growled.

One of his hands let go of her wrist and wrapped around her neck. He had a death grip on her neck and Y/N started gasping for air.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t want this? Like you weren’t dancing on me, begging for it? You were jealous that Maddy got me whenever she wanted. You wanted me all for yourself just like I want you.”

Y/N wanted to scream at him, tell him he was wrong about everything, but was he? When Maddy talked about sex with him, Y/N would feel pangs of guilt and jealousy for wanting to trade places with her. Most of all, she wanted Nate to get off her. She wanted Nate to leave her alone forever. When she looked at him, the sweet fourth grade boy was gone and replaced by a full grown monster. Why was she getting monsters when she wanted princes? What did she do to deserve this?

Nate unzipped his jeans and tears kept flowing down Y/N’s face, ruining Jules’ masterpiece. He kept his eyes trained on her and Y/N was losing oxygen, she couldn’t think to move any of her muscles. Just as he was about to push in her, someone banged on the door.

“Occupied!” Nate yelled over his shoulder.

“Whatever.”

Nate turned back and looked down at Y/N, shaking and crying. He leaned down and whispered, “Don’t make a sound.” He released his grasp on her neck and pinned her wrists again. Y/N’s throat felt numb and she couldn’t do anything. She inhaled through her nose and before Nate could thrust, she took gathered all her strength to knee him. Nate groaned and rolled onto his side, releasing her wrists. Y/N scrambled to her feet, unlocked the door, and ran outside. People in the hallway looked at her bewildered. Y/N nearly fell down the stairs and ran into Rue.

“Y/N, what happened?” she asked.

Y/N gasped for a moment before burying her face in Rue’s shoulder and crying, full-on, heaving, shoulder-shaking crying. Rue held her close and ran her hands through her hair. “Nate,” was the only word she managed to get out.

Before Rue could only see Red, Fez approached them. “Hey, I’m about to head out if you wanted a ride. What’s up?”

“I think Nate tried to do something to Y/N,” Rue whispered. “Y/N, could you look at me?”

Y/N straightened up and Rue and Fezco saw the handprints around her neck. Both of their expressions hardened.

“Where’s Maddy, Cassie, and Jules?” Rue asked.

“Right here,” Maddy said as they approached. Her eyes widened at Y/N. “Y/N, what the f-ck happened?”

Y/N swallowed but winced at the feeling. “Nate tried to rape me,” she rasped out.

In an instant, Fez and Rue handed Y/N over to Cassie, Maddy, and Jules. Y/N collapsed in their arms and continued crying.

“Honey, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” Cassie said.

“Breathe, Y/N, you need to breathe,” Jules muttered.

“I’m so sorry, Maddy, I’m so sorry,” Y/N said.

“No, don’t apologize,” Maddy insisted, stroking Y/N’s hair.

They cleared a couch for Y/N to rest and they continued trying to comfort her. A few seconds later, Nate came tumbling down the stairs, with Rue and Fezco on his heels. Rue was cursing at him while Fezco laid more punches on him. Nate’s face was already bruised and scratched up.

“It’s not my fault!” Nate spat out. “I told you, she came onto me, she’s been in love with me since fourth grade, she wanted this! Maddy, Y/N’s a bad friend, that’s not my fault.”

“Don’t even talk to me right now or I swear, Rue and Fezco will have to keep me from killing you,” Maddy hissed.

“I’m a bad friend,” Y/N whimpered.

“No, you’re not,” Maddy, Cassie, and Jules said.

“I liked him a lot, even when you dated, I liked him and then he…he came onto me, maybe I deserved it.”

“Y/N, no one deserves to get raped, no one, you did not ask for this,” Jules assured her.

Y/N turned to lay face up. “Why does everything hurt so much? I just wanted someone to like me since loving me is asking for too much.”

“No, it’s not,” Cassie hushed.

“And we love you,” Maddy said.

“I love you the most,” Jules said.

Y/N smiled slightly. “But you know what I mean.”

Y/N loved her friends and appreciated their love, but she wanted the fairytale. She’d convinced herself that maybe she would get some idea of that with Nate but she was so wrong. She wanted the dream and got a nightmare. It was a terrible f-cking way to learn how real life works, but it had to happen. Besides, we’re in high school and the love Y/N truly wanted was impossible to find in high school, especially East Highland. Y/N ended up pressing charges on Nate and that encouraged Maddy to open up about stuff he’d done to her during their relationship. Everything is different with Y/N now, I can see it in her eyes, they aren’t as bright as they used to be. Before the stuff with her mom, they would shimmer and after that, some glints remained. Now, it was like looking in a dark hole and I could guess what she was feeling since I’ve been in that place too----in fact, I’m still in it. I think the saddest part is she always had so much optimism and now it’s gone before she’s twenty and I don’t think she’ll get it back.

#euphoria imagine #angst imagine

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aboutcaseyaffleck · 3 years

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Actor Casey Affleck Reflects On The Past And 'The World To Come'

The last time I saw Casey Affleck was after an 8:30 a.m. Sundance Film Festival screening of “Manchester by the Sea,” which left my colleagues and I so emotionally drained we were pretty much useless for the rest of the day. Affleck finds this very funny. “Oh man, that’s awesome,” he laughs. “That was a tough screening. At Sundance I’m usually just going to sleep at 8 a.m.” We’re talking on the phone a few days after the festival’s virtual premiere of his latest movie, “The World to Come,” which made its Sundance debut last month under very different circumstances. “It’s so strange doing these things sitting in front of your computer,” he sighs.

Directed by Mona Fastvold, “The World to Come” is a powerful period piece about a forbidden love affair between pioneer women played by Katherine Waterston and Vanessa Kirby, set in upstate New York during the early months of 1856. Affleck produced the picture, in which he plays a supporting role as Waterston’s uncomprehending husband, and he did his best to soldier through a crowded Zoom Q&A after the Sundance screening, with results pleasant enough, but nonetheless missing that in-person festival magic. “I used to love going to film festivals and talking to journalists and seeing all the movies and talking to other filmmakers,” he laments. “Sitting here alone in a little office in my house is such a drag. But it was nice to know that the movie was getting seen, at least.”

While big brother Ben plays Batman in studio pictures, Casey has exhibited a restless independent streak ever since he was a student at Cambridge Rindge and Latin School. (Our ninth-grade classes competed against each other in the Mass. High School Drama Guild Competition. His won, perhaps unsurprisingly.) A longtime friend of the Brattle Theatre and former creative advisor for the Independent Film Festival Boston, the younger Affleck has always seemed more at home in indies. Not a lot of actors would follow an Oscar-winning role in “Manchester by the Sea” with a microbudget art film like “A Ghost Story.” But then his internalized, minimalist acting style is often at odds with the concerns of contemporary blockbusters. There’s a weird dissonance watching something like Disney’s hokey Chatham sea adventure “The Finest Hours,” with Affleck going full Montgomery Clift while surrounded by CGI silliness.

“The World to Come” is the most ambitious project yet from Affleck’s Sea Change Media, which partnered with Pamela Koffler and Christine Vachon’s legendary NYC indie institution Killer Films for the arduous production that began with a conversation between Affleck and novelist Ron Hansen nearly a decade ago. “When I did ‘The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford’ I got to know Ron Hansen, just because I loved the book so much. Ron has a very unique talent for writing 19th century language. He’s just from another era. I asked him if he had something he wanted to work on together, and I thought he would send me one of his things. Instead, he sent me this story by Jim Shepard. It was beautiful. I said, why don’t you and Jim write the script? And they took about six years, but it came together beautifully. Good things come to those who wait, I guess.”

The film eventually shot in Romania with a break built into the schedule to accommodate the changing seasons that are so crucial to the movie’s rugged, outdoor textures. “We were way out in Transylvania, out in the mountains,” Affleck explains. “We were just in some valley and they built a couple of farmhouses. I like being far away in a new place. It makes you feel outside of your life. And I love working in weather. There are so many aspects of moviemaking that are artificial, but when there’s extreme weather, it’s real. I did this Disney movie about a boat rescue, and it was, like, December in friggin’ Quincy and they were just soaking us with water every single take. There’s not a lot that you have to quote-unquote act. You’re just standing there, teeth-chattering, shivering, just being.” This reminds me of the scene in “Manchester” when he and Lucas Hedges have an argument walking in the blistering cold and can’t remember where they parked. “I forgot about that one,” he laughs.

I’d never say so on the phone, but I consider Affleck’s performance as Lee Chandler in “Manchester by the Sea” among the finest I’ve seen in my 22 years of reviewing films, worthy of discussion alongside Brando’s Terry Malloy in “On the Waterfront” in its aching, inchoate longing. Lee holds his grief somewhere very private and dear, as if to begin to forgive himself would be an act of betrayal. The movie nails a gruff, emotional constipation popular among men of a certain stripe, especially in New England. (My mother offered my favorite review of the film: “Why don’t they just talk to each other? Jesus, this is like watching you and your father.”) Words don’t come easily to most of Affleck’s movie characters, but he chafes at the description of them as inarticulate. “It’s funny, I find the characters in ‘Manchester’ to be sometimes very articulate,” he argues. “There’s misunderstandings, but they end up communicating what’s inside.”

“The World to Come” is rife with such mixed signals and miscommunications, about which co-star Katherine Waterston raved during the Zoom Q&A after the Sundance screening. “It was so much fun to play the scenes with Casey,” she said. “A lot of these scenes are written as dances, where somebody tries to reach out and engage and they’re misunderstood. Inarticulacy is a very interesting thing to see in film. The failed attempts. Failed communications. It’s actually fun to play those things. You don’t know what the other person’s going to throw at you. It keeps it really alive on set. Mona and I felt if we had the money we could have kept shooting this thing for months, because the scenes were so much fun to explore.”

Affleck agrees. “When Katherine’s character writes in her journal or she starts talking to Vanessa, they have this beautiful, expressive way of speaking to each other,” he enthuses, whereas his character “says what he’s gotta say in as few words as possible. He’s very brusque and curt, which I enjoyed. The way that he talks is the communication equivalent when he gives her a birthday gift of sardines and a tin of raisins.”

Indeed, her increasingly florid diary entries — originally intended as a ledger to keep track of the farm’s monthly expenses — become the heartbeat of the film, providing an emotional release otherwise suppressed by the rigid formality of the era and the ugly drudgery of day-to-day farm life. “The World to Come” is ultimately a movie about the need to share our stories, and how through telling them we make sense of ourselves. As producer Koffler explains in the press notes, “Part of the film’s vision is to dramatize a very basic human impulse: to create, to connect, to say ‘I was here, and I mattered.’”

This has become a recurring theme in Affleck’s recent work. In 2019, he wrote, directed and starred in “Light of My Life,” a little-seen but strikingly tense post-apocalyptic road movie about a father and daughter hiding out in the wilderness after a pandemic has wiped out most of the women in the world. The film begins with Affleck telling the little girl a bedtime story that runs almost 13 minutes and sneakily sets up the movie’s major themes. Then in last month’s well-acted but regrettably soggy “Our Friend,” he starred as real-life journalist Matthew Teague, whose soul-baring Esquire story about his wife’s struggle with cancer became a national phenomenon.

“Matt Teague wrote that article and then wanted it made into a movie as his way of processing everything that had happened,” the actor elaborates. “You transform pain into other things as you go through life. That was all him working through it. I like stories about storytellers and I like stories within stories. Obviously, I wrote and directed a movie that starts with a 12-minute bedtime story. I love that. I know that other people don’t love it as much as I do, so I have to be careful about it.”

That kind of love led to last summer’s “Stories From Tomorrow,” a project initiated during lockdown by Affleck and his schoolteacher mom Christine, encouraging children to send in poems and short stories to be read on social media by celebrities like Matt Damon and Jon Hamm, as well as his “The World to Come” co-stars Waterston and Kirby. “That was something I started out at the very beginning of the quarantine as a small project to encourage kids to write creatively, because I know it can be a great way of processing anxiety and working through feelings that you aren’t really talking about or aren’t aware that you’re having. It wasn’t something I thought would go on forever; once the kids are back in school that ought to be where they should be doing all that kind of work. But while they were sitting at home, I thought it would be a good way to get their attention off the awful news and into something more imaginative. And I also got a chance to read all these super-cool stories! Really creative stuff that kids sent from all around the world.”

Finally, as a Boston publication it would be dereliction of duty not to mention the hysterical Dunkin Donuts commercial parody from when Affleck hosted “Saturday Night Live” in 2016, so dead-on in its depiction of a local 'regulah customah' that on one of my critics’ poll ballots that year I tried to nominate the sketch for Best Documentary. Alas, the performer shoots down a pet theory I’ve been hanging onto ever since, that the dirtbag Boston guy in the Bruins hat is secretly a grown-up version of Affleck’s scene stealing, bug-swallowing Morgan from “Good Will Hunting.”

“I hadn’t thought about that, dude. That’s really funny. It never crossed my mind." He pauses before confiding, "I wasn’t that great on SNL… I just wasn’t all that funny on the skits, because it’s live and you’re reading the cue cards and it was my first time. But when we went to make that little pre-recorded short film of the Dunkin’ Donuts ad, I really felt like that was my wheelhouse there. I could’ve played that character in a movie. I could have gone to work and played him every single day, and I would have had a blast. That was really fun to do. I would love to do another one of those. That would be funny to see that character again.”

I bet that guy’s got some stories.

“The World To Come” is now in theaters and will be available via video on demand Tuesday, March 2.

[source]

#casey affleck #the world to come #quote #photo #movies

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #334

"i dreamed i was missing / you were so scared / but no one would listen, ‘cuz no one else cared”

Sunrise or sunset? Sunset has prettier colors, imo, but I enjoy the pastel nature of sunrises, too. Are you mentally ill? Oh brother. Are you physically ill? I don't have any serious physical health issues, no. Introvert or extrovert? I'm a very strong introvert. What do you think when you look at your body? That it's fucking disgusting. What have others said when they look at your body? When I was healthy, I was complimented every now and again. With the body I have now? I'm glad people keep their months shut. Do you have a particular song that you feel deeply? There's a good 'ole handful or two. Talk about a time in your life where you have felt most alive? It's weird, I'm not a city person at all, but possibly when I was walking the streets of Chicago with Sara and her dad one evening. There was just so much life, so many new sights, that it was impossible not to. Plus, I was at a very happy point in my life, so. I just enjoyed a lot. Are you confident wearing a bikini? FUCK NO. Have you ever been hurt physically or mentally by a family member? Mentally, obviously. Everyone has at some point. I've never been seriously physically hurt by family, but Mom did spank my sisters and me as kids if we did something wrong. Biggest lie you have told? I don't really know. I get really uncomfortable telling even minor lies, so making a big one would be excruciating. I'm not saying I've never said a biggie, I'm sure in 25 years of life I said something stupid at one point, I just don't remember it. Do you believe in the Illuminati? Nah; there's some compelling evidence, but I just think it's way too big of a secret to keep. Regrets in your life? Blaming the breakup entirely on Jason and saying just plain cruel things to him afterwards. Also sending an appallingly hateful letter to Dad to vent after the divorce. Flirting with my then-best friend's boyfriend at the time behind her back. Dating Tyler (it's a small one, but still a regret). There are others, those are just the only ones coming to me right now. Achievements in your life? Lots of academic success and awards (before college, anyway...), artistic accomplishments like having my work put in a museum, surviving a traumatic breakup, (mostly) recovering from massive depression... What did people say about you in school? Nothing, really. I was a quiet student who just did her work and tried hard. Is there something you have never told anyone? Yes. If you had two days to spend one million dollars how would you spend it? First, I'm paying off college debt. Then Mom gets a new car, followed by me getting new glasses and renewing my permit. I'm getting a good terrarium setup for Venus. Then, it's tattoo time, baby, haha. I can't really do the mental math on how much this all would cost, but those are the high-priority things I can think of. Describe your first kiss? Was it how you imagined? Jason and I were playfighting in bed, and he had me pinned. Our faces were close, and I decided to kiss him. It was a fairy tale moment, in my eyes. He looked so bashful for once (he's far from shy) but also really happy, and I was too. Growing up were you in a wealthy, average, or low income household? Low, I think. Or maybe average, when Dad was still around. Have you been raised by a solo parent? When I was around 17, my parents split, so kinda-sorta. Do you know both your parents? Thankfully, yes. Have you abused drugs or alcohol? No. Are you comfortable accepting compliments? Ehhhh, I really appreciate them and they can make my whole day, but I'm very awkward about it. I get shy. Are you comfortable giving compliments? Oh yes. I honestly love giving compliments; I know how happy they can make me, so why not share that with others? Is any mental illness hindering your life? Guess. (: Is any physical illness hindering your life? Well, it's not an "illness," but the muscles in my legs have severely atrophied from leading such a horribly sedentary lifestyle, and that has greatly affected my ability to work without the risk of just collapsing. Walking at all is painful. Are you preparing for an apocalypse? No. I'm not really one to worry about "prepping." If it happens, it happens, man. I'm not spending loads of money on a "maybe." Are you interested in cults? Not really, no. Are your parents good cooks? Mom is fine, but it's hard to really judge Dad's cooking since he barely ever did it, plus I haven't had his cooking in many, many years. I remember he was great at making breakfast, though. That was like a rare treat, him deciding to make breakfast for everyone. Have you ever been to a chiropractor? Did you like it? No. Do you know anyone who is an actor? No. Have your wisdom teeth come through yet? They never did. Have you ever used a public pay phone? No. Have you ever made an item of clothing? No. Have you taken someone's virginity? No. Is confidence cute? "Confidence, yes. But cockiness and arrogance, no. That’s a whole different area that’s definitely not cute." <<<< Nailed it. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh? Doubt it. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda? No; rather, I drink too much of it. I'm trying really hard to lay off of it, and I drink nowhere near as much as I used to (when oddly enough, I was healthy and fit), but I'm still not comfortable drinking a can and a half a day. Listening to? "Castle of Glass" by Linkin Park. Kinda obsessed. Ever used a bow and arrow? No, but archery is cool. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? I don't think this has happened since my senior shot in HS. Take a vitamin daily? Daily, no, but I really should. I take a Vitamin D capsule every Sunday, though. Favorite Taylor Swift song? I only really like "Love Story" and "Picture to Burn." Have you ever cried because you were so happy? Yeah. Which are better: black or green olives? I don't like olives period, but I guess black. What’s your 3rd favourite animal? Huh, never thought of #3, just #1 and #2: meerkats and opossums. Maybe snakes? Do you like mushrooms? NO. NO NO NO. What dream do you remember most vividly? One I don't talk about. A childhood nickname? Mom called me "Twinkie" and still sometimes does. ;-; Does anyone in "real life" know that you take surveys? Would you be embarrassed if they found your blog? Just Sara. And yes, regarding some people. Who was the last person you blocked on social media? Did you have an argument that lead to that happening? I'm unsure, but probably. I don't tend to just like... randomly block people. What was the first social media account you remember signing up for? Are you still a member of that particular website, if it even still exists? Of course it was MySpace. It's still floating around somewhere in cyberspace. What website from your childhood/teen years do you wish still existed? I get nostalgic over the Animal Planet forums sometimes. Have you ever met up with anyone in real life that you first met via the internet? Did you get on as well as you thought you would? Yes, Sara. I felt like it would go just fine, but it went even better than I expected - I was oddly very comfortable around her and her family. Have you ever tried any of those meal replacement shakes? Are you a fan of things like that in general? Yeah; I tried many brands until I settled for Equate, surprisingly. Cheap does not equate to bad quality, my friends. We always have the chocolate ones in the house, and they're really not bad at all. Are you the kind of person to enjoy taking naps? I love me my daily nap, man. What's your favourite kind of cheese to have on a pizza? Idk, whatever cheese is normally used, lol. What's a hobby you loved when you were younger but no longer enjoy for whatever reason? I guess video editing. I can't say I'd no longer enjoy it at all, but now the idea sounds far more like a chore than fun. Is there a popular food/drink that you can't stand? What is it and why don't you like it? I could name five dozen, but here's just a few: coffee, pie, tea, fried chicken (or is that just a Southern thing to be obsessed with?), and... of course now that I'm asked this question, I'm blanking on the huge number I know exist. As for "why," that varies, but it's either just simply a taste or even a texture thing. How would your wedding boquet look like? I want a gothic-themed wedding, so imagine a mix of black and maroon roses... whew-wee. You’re at a bar, and you witness a man drugging some girl's drink. What do you do? No hesitation, I'm decking the motherfucker. Fuck my fear of men, he's getting knocked out, and I'm immediately alerting the staff, as well as of course the girl. Kids? How many? Why? Names? Boy or girl? Y'know, loads and loads of scaly and hairy ones. Got plenty of name ideas depending on what they are and how they look. The only baby whose gender matters to me is the tarantula because females live waaaay longer. Fuck them human babies, not for me. Are you an organ donor? Absolutely. I sure as hell ain't usin' 'em once I'm dead, so consider it my last act of selflessness. Whats the most you’ve ever lost gambling? I don't gamble. What is something you can never give up (that's not love or family)? My pebble from my "graduation" from my first partial hospitalization program. It's meant to symbolize how great pain and trials can file you into something beautiful. It was passed around group, everyone holding it in their hands as they wished me well and spoke their piece about me. I'm honestly just fighting back tears remembering it. Have you ever waited in line overnight for something? No, I'm way too impatient for that shit.. Do you think having an expensive phone is a good investment? Hm. I guess it depends on what you use it for. Have you ever witnessed a birth in person? A human birth, no fucking thank you. I've only ever seen pet cats give birth. Does anyone in your family smoke? My dad does, big time. He quit drinking, but never quite managed to stay away from cigarettes. Have you ever had a pet escape and run away? Seeing as I grew up with outdoor cats that we couldn't afford to fix, pretty much all of our tomcats left for roving once they came of a certain age. Do any of your exes know each other? Juan and Jason know each other, Jason and Girt know one another as well, and Sara and Girt have met. What’s an opinion you find impossible to take seriously? I simply cannot fathom the belief that "dinosaurs never existed." Explain the fucking fossils, like come the fuck on. It's absolute denial in the name of religion. What was the very first election you voted in? This one that just passed, actually. What is one random fact about you? I want like 20 tarantulas but Mom says no. :( Do you spend a lot of time outdoors in the summer? Fuck no, I will do anything to stay inside in summer. Do you wear band tees? if yes, which one is your favorite? I love band tees, yeah. My Ninja Sex Party shirt is the most comfortable, but comfort aside, it's hard to pick a favorite. Possibly my Otep one, 'cuz the design is dope. Do you ever re-arrange your room? No. What season do you want to get married in? Fall. What is the highest name-brand thing you own? Oh god, I don't own expensive brand stuff. I guess the only exclusion would be my Cloak shirt, but even that's not like, mad pricey. What color GameBoy did you have as a kid? Red. What was your favorite GameBoy game? Maybe that Catz game? Even though the music was the most fucking obnoxious meowing ever lmao. What was the last compliment you remember someone gave to you? Who was it? It was this guy in my PHP group; my therapist surprised the fuck out of me by sharing with everyone my most recent poem (I trust him a lot, and he urges me to send him my art, so I've done that twice), and I nearly fucking died from cardiac arrest. However, this Nick guy, who's a poetry major, told me it was better than stuff he reads in his Master's program. I almost cried. Have you ever personally been friends with a stripper or prostitute? No, not that I'm opposed though or anything. If you have tattoos, which one that you have was the most painful? The one on my inner forearm. Have you ever actually met and talked to someone who’s famous? No. When was the last time you got a parking ticket for anything at all? I never have. Do you have any pets who will bite anyone else out there, besides you? No; Roman won't even come close enough to a stranger TO bite, haha. It's funny, he's so goofy and you'd guess outgoing, but instead, he's terrified of people he doesn't recognize. What’s your favorite type of sushi? I don't eat sushi. What’s your favorite patriotic song? Don't have one. Have you ever read a book about a character in a psych ward? No, and I'd really prefer not to because it would just drag me back to dark times. Have you ever been in a mental hospital as a patient? ^ Have you ever had an ulcer? No. Do you like soy sauce? omfg no What’s your favorite store to browse around? Morph Market. @_@ It's a hub for reptiles for sale, and I have my days where I just browse the ball python morphs for like an hour or so, haha. What’s the name of the most recent baby a friend had? Christ, half my friends on Facebook are having babies, idr. I don't know who was the most recent. Do people normally say you’re a fast typer, or are you rather slow? I'm very fast. Have you ever been considered the "smartest person in school?" No; that was my friend Hannia. I'm pretty certain she would qualify as a genius. Her GPA was fucking incredible. Were you named after anyone famous or anyone on television? No.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''leave out all the rest'' by linkin park

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angrycowboy · 4 years

Photo

A couple weeks ago, I decided that for my birthday, I was going to attempt to put together some of my favorite things this fandom has created. I say *some* because this is an incomplete list. There are so many wonderful and talented creators in this fandom that this list would go on forever otherwise. If I have I ever reblogged something of yours, flailed in the tags, reached out to via DM or sent you a message, talked on discord or even Twitter, know that I love and adore not only the things you’ve created, but you yourself as part of this fandom.

And now, without further ado…

FIC

memento by @nielrian

I was obsessed with the idea of coming up with the backstory to the photo we see Michael look at in 1x02. When was it taken? Does Alex have a copy? Did Alex bring his with him to the other side of the world? How often do you think Michael looked at his own copy? And Nicki took a little prompt of mine, and wrote an achingly gorgeous piece about one photograph, and it’s significance to Malex in less than 700 words.

a little something to make me sweeter by @partsofthesamecosmicbeing

Camluca + D.E.B.S. is like a recipe for the perfect fic. I freaking love the movie, and when I saw this fic pop up on tumblr one day? I couldn’t even contain my excitement (seriously, the tags on my reblog were just me flailing wildly because it felt like Ly had reached into my brain and written something I wanted to read before I even knew it myself). Casting Alex as Scud and including Malex in the mix just made me love this fic even more.

And the Sun Rose Red by @michaels-blackhat

A Miluca Kissing Kate Barlow AU? SIGN. ME. UP. I adore Christi, and I adore her writing. One day she was like, “miluca kissing kate barlow au?” and the only appropriate answer to that is HECK YES. Michael/Maria is also a dynamic that just works for this AU, given their canon relationship, and Michael’s penchant for fixing things and Maria’s desire to have someone just be there for her. *runs off to re-read fic*

something broken in this town by @irolltwenties

Okay so, Meagn is one of my favorite people in this fandom. We kinda ramble at each other, and one day this happened where she started talking about the parents. About the relationship Jesse, Jim, and Mimi had as kids, as teenagers, as young adults. How they got sucked into aliens and government conspiracies. How they became the people we see and hear about in S1. If you’ve ever had the privilege of talking with Meagn, you know how amazing her mind is, how she takes these characters and the mere scraps we’ve been given in canon with some of them, and creates entire lives for them, and it’s beautiful.

open up my eager eyes by @haloud

It took me a while to get into Mylex, but apparently it was just because I hadn’t read Hal’s series yet. I’m usually terrible about multi-shipping, but once I find a writer that nails the characters down, I could probably read anything they write. And Hal writes all three of them perfectly. (I mean, Hal is just a phenomenal writer in general, but I digress.)

META

Michael’s bisexuality by @chasingshhadows

There’s been a lot said in the fandom about Michael’s bisexuality and how it’s been portrayed. While the show was airing, I was having trouble finding people who felt the same way I did about how it was being shown - that it wasn’t problematic, but that it was good and accurate. Not to mention that it made me feel seen. I tried writing out what I was feeling but nothing sounded right - until Chasing wrote this piece. It was everything I’d been trying to find the words to express, and it remains one of my absolutely favorite pieces of her writing.

Semiotics of Roswell by @hannah-writes

Hannah did this amazing thing where she took the camera work of RNM and analyzed the shit out of it. And in some moments of doubt, where I was still worried about Malex because of the direction the show had been taking, Hannah’s semiotics (or better known as “Why Malex is Endgame”) pointed out how the camerawork for Malex and Echo is very similar, not to mention deliberate as fuck.

Maria Can’t Catch a Break by @ober-affen-geil

I adore Maria Deluca. She has gotten such a bad rap in the fandom because of the “love triangle” business. But fandom in general has done her dirty in that without removing the shipper goggles it is very hard to see that the show has established Maria as a character in her own right, just as much as it has with Kyle and Alex. And that’s why I love Riley’s meta about everything that Maria is dealing with, what she’s going through, and what it’s been like for her to be the one left behind 10 years ago.

GIFSETS/EDITS

i would know him in death, at the end of the world by @vlamito

I don’t even remember now who told me I had to read The Song of Achilles - it was pre-RNM hyperfixation, but I absolutely loved it (I definitely cried while reading it). And then I saw this gifset, oh mah gawd. Mich just has this ability to find quotes from other media and fit them seemlessly into Malex. And the moments she chooses for her gifsets are utter perfection. I think everyone has probably seen this now, but it’s a gifset I just keep going back to over and over again.

Are you okay? by @maxortecho

So I adore Echo. There is something about their softness, the way they look at each other, the way they act around each other that is just beautiful. Mo made this set, and pointed out in the tags that Liz pushes her arms underneath Max like she’s going to hug him, and it broke me. Like, I thought that scene in the finale was heartbreaking enough, but pointing that out? It hurts and I loved it.

Leading Ladies Appreciation by @lsobelevans

Lucie does some amazing things with color that truly make her edits stand out, and stick out in your mind. And it’s one of the things I love about her gif sets especially - it makes them uniquely hers, her own signature if you will. And this edit is no different - the splashes of color, the texture used for the background, the highlighting of the leading ladies is stunning work.

Same page/Different book by @bisexualalienblast

Let’s just say that picking ONE gifset of Amanda’s is an impossibility for me, okay? Amanda’s sets are the reason I wanted to learn how to gif - her gifs are beautifully colored, they’re crisp, she always picks the best fonts, they’re smooth, and her ideas are stellar. Anyway, she more recently made this set, which just so perfectly illustrates Malex’s issue IN TWO GIFS. That’s it. Their entire problem in S1, right there. Beautiful.

VIDEO

Juice | Women of Roswell by @isakvaltersnake

Katie is a wizard with the video editing. She’s going to be a force when we’ve got more than one season of footage to play around with. And this video is fun and hot and LOOK AT THE WOMEN. They are smart, they are kind, they are flirty, they have agency, and they’re all hella sexy.

Weird Science | Liz & Michael - Science Bros by @soberqueerinthewild

Hands down, this is one of my favorite videos from the fandom, and definitely one of my favorite things Christina has made (though I basically love everything she does). It’s silly and ridiculous and 100% fun. She found every bit of footage in S1 and matched it to the song perfectly. It’s impossible to watch this video and not smile and laugh - it will instantly brighten your day.

MISC

RNM Texts From Last Night by @audreyblanche

I am slightly biased here, because while Irena came up with the idea, I encouraged her to actually go through with it, promising her that the fandom would enjoy it. So because of that it’s next to impossible for me to pick a favorite out of all the ones she’s done for this series (though the one where we settled on the Camluca ship name, as well as one I specifically requested for Malex come close), and I’m hoping that with the new season (and when she returns from hiatus), she can pick this up again.

#roswell new mexico #roswell nm rec list #also every single person here is a joy to talk to and follow #notso celebrates a birthday #fandom love

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aahsoka · 4 years

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So having been on tiktok for a bit I wanna talk a little about it.

What I like

It’s actually rather entertaining to scroll through up to 30 second videos one after the other. Sometimes the humor falls flat or it’s not your taste, but the algorithim is quite good at recommending the kind of content you will like.

I joined right when there was a big trend going around about sharing your culture, and soon after a Blackout trend where non-Black creators stopped posting for a day & spread/supported videos by Black creators. So I ended up with a fairly diverse fyp or “for you page”. It also quickly gathered that I am bisexual, so I get plenty of lgbt+ content. There’s some art mixed in there, some cosplay, some historical costuming/seamstresses, lots of avatar jokes lately, musical theatre content, fashion, girls in bikinis on rollerskates (in outer space), commentary on political issues, body positivity, all the kinds of stuff I like. To get a feed that caters to your interests you just have to watch & like videos you’re interested in & eventually it gets a feel for what you’ll watch and what you won’t.

Theres a trend where people say which ‘side’ of tiktok they’re on and I get ‘science side of tumblr’ flashbacks but I’ve mostly avoided the “straight” and conservative sides of tiktok. I would be considered a part of “woke”, “alt” (as in alternative) and lgbt+ tiktok (there are separate ones for each letter of the acronym). Possibly also “theatre” and “cosplay” tiktok. These categories are nebulous and you’re usually part of multiple communities; its just as arbitray as ‘science side of tumblr’ was.

The format reminds me of snapchat a little, and I love to talk to myself on video & post dumb thirst traps for my friends (none of which I’m attracted to so idk what my goal is there) and make stupid jokes. So this app is kinda perfect for my attention seeking side & hyperactive tendencies. Its very easy to consume on a short attention span, though not as easy as vine was.

Being in quarantine, its a way for a lot of people to engage in hobbies that involve community. Cosplay is pretty popular, as its a fun way to show off a costume & dress up & have fun without having to attend a convention. I enjoy the way lip synced audios can be used to emulate the character someone is dressed as; that’s something you couldn’t really do unless you were really good at impressions. Its a nice succinct way to show the process of creating a cosplay as well.

Those who enjoy theatre, but cannot perform in shows at this time, are able to create mini-monologues & sketches as well as sing parts of their favorite songs. Its an avenue through which to perform without putting anyone at risk of the virus. It’s also an easy way to show off your talents without having to go through the audition process & actually get cast in a show as a prominent enough role that someone will notice it.

It’s a convenient format for discourse and educational videos. Nice, short, easily digestible tidbits that stay in your mind. This extremely catchy song, for example: “Black neighborhoods are overpoliced, so of course they have higher rates of crime, and white perpetrators are undercharged, so of course they have lower rates of crime. And all of those stupid stats you keep using are operating off a small sample size. So, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up”.

As well as other videos where people take the time to explain historical events, satirize racist arguments to demonstrate why they are wrong, talk about prevalent tropes in movies, teach a few signs in ASL, share facts about their culture, etc, etc. I have found there are quite a lot of people there from unique and fairly unknown cultures and backgrounds- and this is a place where they’re able to share their culture & existence with people all over the world. There are a thousand different viewpoints. Their videos are doing far more for diverse representation than any other platform, I’d argue, as everyone is extremely visible on the app. (‘Their’ as in the creators, not the app itself).

I also have enjoyed coming across new artists on the app. It’s really fun to watch the process they go through, as most art videos deal with the whole creation of a piece. It’s inspiring. I have also come across a painter who’s work I’m in love with, and a woman who makes and sells the CUTEST ceramic mugs, and I need to purchase some stuff from them both.

Now onto the bad:

Unfortunately, the app doesn’t have much in the way of a filtering or warning system. I talked about that tiktok of the kids coming across human remains? That was just on people’s fyp. Just popped up. No warning. No reason for it to still be up. Traumatizing.

You can click on a video and say ‘not interested’ (I do this to literally every video I get where some girl is thirsting after kylo ren 🤮..... like I want the star wars videos just not THOSE videos). However, it doesn’t seem to know exactly why you weren’t interested, because I still get those videos from time to time. There’s no content filter where I can blacklist the kylo ren or any other hashtag.

There’s some very shitty content. There are racist conservatives. Misogynistic teen white boys. Really weird thirst traps. Videos where people lip sync to something with a straight face and tag it with #acting. Harmful body image trends. I thankfully stay very clear of this, but this kind of content makes me worry for the minors on the app. The one’s who don’t have enough of a concept of self yet to realize they don’t need to be able to do the newest pointless beauty trend to be beautiful, to realize it’s ok for them to be gay, to realize how predatory some adults can be, etc etc.

It is extremely easy to come across minors on the app who don’t look like teens. One time I went to a girl’s page and it said she was FIFTEEN. I’m usually good at guessing ages but something about this app messes that up. I wish there was a way to separate people under 18 and adults. Where I don’t have minor’s thirst traps popping up on my fyp. Where pedophiles don’t get a chance to curate that fyp intentionally. If anyone reading this has kids, I highly recommend they make their tiktok private or only viewable to friends.

Just like any site, there are plenty of bigots. Lots of racist comments. Plenty of transphobia. Any hatred you’ve seen elsewhere, of course it exists on tiktok. I have actually zero clue if you can report people & if it works. Most people seem to send a video commentary to their haters or duet a video of a racist pointing out their racism. I’ve heard of creators blocking people, however. I remember a tiktok of a Black woman who’s video somehow went fairly viral in Poland and now she gets a lot of racist comments from this large group of random racisf Polish followers she has and its extremely time consuming to block them all, as there’s no mass block feature.

The rumors about what works with the algorithm and doesn’t abound. I’ve heard well lit videos get more views. Many people suspect they have been shadowbanned for speaking out about current events. TikTok will remove the audio from videos sometimes if they deem it controversial enough. Most of us know they were criticized recently for intentionally keeping Black creator’s videos from being seen (a catalyst for the Blackout, actually). Or you may also recall when it was criticized for widely removing lgbt+ content. Those creators are fighting to be seen the same amount as straight cis white creators are allowed to be seen with no effort.

The effects some trends could have on teen girls. So many of them are already so uncomfortable in their own skin simply because of societal standards, but the absolutely meaningless challenges people come up with on tiktok make it so much worse. One trend was based around whether your finger touched your lips when you put it in your nose. Or if you could get your clasped hands around the back of your legs and over your butt (if they get passed, you have a flat ass, if they get stuck, its big). These completely arbitrary signifiers of the things you need to have in order to be pretty, are far more ridiculous that anything I have seen yet in my life. I worry about little girls taking these ideas to heart. There is a very kind body positive community on the app & I hope more people can find that.

There’s also that thing where they steal your data. Like most apps. But apparently they got a lot more invasive than usual, so I would look into it before making an account; if you want to do that.

I think the apps users can be great & its a pretty intuitive set up. It certainly deserves its popularity solely as a creative form of social media. That being said, its owners are so so insidious & do the worst things. Just like all other social media, its controlled by the worst kind of people. Who can never figure out how to effectively get rid of nazis or keep kids safe from adult content.

These are my less serious gripes with the app:

1) Lip syncing

When people lip sync and don’t do any kind of skit, joke, etc, just look as if they’re saying what someone else said; I hate that. I have to go back and find the original tiktok so I can like it instead. You literally did nothing interesting by ripping off someones audio and moving your lips along to it. So many people on this app are creative and so many others lack any semblance of creativity.

Also people are too easily impressed by lip syncing to kinda-fast songs. I lip synced to like....10 seconds of the devil went down to georgia and two people praised my lip syncing abilities. Like, I can also sing and talk fast, out loud, isn’t that more impressive? more skillful? The fiddle playing in that song is impressive, not the fact I can lip sync ‘the devil went down to georgia, he was lookin for a soul to steal, he was in a bind, cause he was way behind.’ Have you ever seen someone play Johnny’s fiddle solo????? It’s insane!!!

Rather than see someone lip sync to the verse in Stressed Out 2x faster than normal (which is, extremely simple and the song was overplayed and ingrained into our collective consciousness) and go WOW what about someone.....doing the verse out loud. You can litterally just mouth random words and look like you’re saying the right ones. It’s driving me crazy lmao. I’m set to become a God of tiktok because I have a repertoire of fast songs and rap verses memorized. It’s not even an uncommon skill to speak or sing quickly, people literally make rap music for a living! Listen to it maybe.

2) “Acting”

I am begging you to stop making me sit through those horrible POVs. I cannot take another girl not quite fake crying towards the camera as she lip syncs the words from a song that apply to the random situation she decided she was in. I cannot take another boy who thinks its sexy to stare into a camera and smirk in every single situation he creates.

Back to lip syncing, making facial expressions along to words isn’t really acting. Try saying the words out loud perhaps? The inflection you use with your lines is a pretty big part of acting. Like you can lip sync all you want, just stop tagging it with #acting.

3) Comedic timing, or lack thereof

You don’t need the entire intro to sit there looking at the camera waiting until the first line starts and you can lip sync to the part that’s the joke. You could cut off at least 15 seconds. Brevity is the soul of wit.

When your joke involves both reading text on screen and listening to the song for the punchline, if it isn’t done prefectly, its so difficult to follow. I can’t read a paragraph in 5 seconds. Paraphrase.

4) self deprecating artist audio

the audio thats like ‘this wont get views’ ‘I suck’ ‘you probably won’t see this anyway’ LOVE YOURSELF

It sucks when people dont enagage with your art but it sucks worse when your value in yourself and you art is based solely on receiving that validation. Please find a healthy medium.

Also you’re asking for pity, and you don’t want that. You want people who genuinely love your art for what it is.

5) editing videos is really hard how do you make such cool & smooth transitions????

please help me I don’t understand

Finally

here’s my account if you’re interested

#this long ass opinion article no one asked for #tiktok #social media #jordan talks #long post /

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who-is-olivia · 5 years

Text

Track 10. From the Dining Table

Harry Styles x OC

Harry struggles with loneliness after Olivia refuses to answer his calls. [2.4k]

Genre: angst

Warnings: substance abuse, sexual language

December 2016

He calls her one more time. It beeps, beeps, beeps and it ends up on mail. It must be the tenth message he sends but he does so anyway.

“Hey love, it’s me again. We haven’t spoke since you went away and I hate this silence, if you don’t want to talk to me can I at least know why?” he begs to the cold phone, hunching over his knees with a hand holding back his hair. “I know I was an asshole, I’m so so sorry, but I want to talk. Can you please call me? Even if it’s just to shout at me and call me names? I love you”

He wipes the corners of his eyes, not in shame, just to avoid his mates asking what’s going on. Harry leaves the waiting room and walks in the studio where Ryan and Mitch are tweaking his recording of Two Ghosts. The album is almost done, they only miss a couple more songs to close the set. As he sits beside Mitch, he notices his friend’s worried gaze as if he could hear his failed attempts through the acoustic protection.

“Nothing?” he asks.

“Just silence” Harry sighs and Mitch pats his leg in comfort.

“Why don’t you go to New York?”

“I don’t know if she’s there, she could be with her grandma in New Orleans or Rio, she could be in London, I wouldn’t know”

“She’s not answering my texts either” Mitch replies. It’s as if, overnight, Olivia vanished from the face of the Earth. “Not even Frank”

He leaves the studio late and walks back to his hotel. A few fans stop him on the way, he’s not on the mood to be his usual cheerful self but he still obliges when they ask for pictures. One of them has a t-shirt with her album cover, when he looks up he’s almost speechless.

“You okay?” she asks, a mix of elation and awkwardness.

“Yeah, you just... remind me of someone”

“Olivia, right? I get that a lot” she laughs, “There was a time I copied her braids, people stopped me in the streets for pictures”

This time, he chuckles as well. Oli loves taking pictures, it appeals so much to her vanity it’s exhausting. She’s not a very sympathetic person when it comes to interacting with strangers, but she always made her fans an exception. “That’s crazy”

“Can you send her a picture of me? I’m a huge fan”

At her request his weak smile falters. He’d love to send her a picture but she won’t notice it, she won’t reply, she won’t care. “Of course”

He politely takes a picture with her and pretends to send it to Oli. “Thank you so much”

“Do you live nearby?”

“No, I’m staying at the Hilton, I’m actually from Mexico”

“So am I! I mean, staying at the Hilton, I’m quite British” she laughs at his clumsy excuse, “Do you want me to walk you back, maybe get a few drinks?”

“Sure!”

He tried to forget her, he tried to drown away his sorrow and sleep with someone else to fix the problem but he failed pitifully. His drunken haziness only caused him to sob over someone, and looking at her likeness made it even worse. He wasn’t struggling for the lack of sex, that’d be easy to fix, he misses her entirely, body and soul. He misses her company, her weird insights, her particular taste for rom-coms and the strange foods she smuggles from her hometown. He misses her touch, the texture of her collarbones and the way her hair smells in the morning, he misses the stargazing and the way her eyes shine like a dark sky with a single star...

When he wakes up the morning after, her twin fan is sleeping on his bed while he gets up from the couch. She’s dressed from head to toe, only her shoes are stored nicely in a corner. By the time, he’s already missed a fine amount of working hours in the studio. A text from Mitch begs him to stay at the hotel and try to work himself out, better than sniffle over his shoulder while he tries to work. He works his dizzy way to the bed and pokes the young woman.

“Oli... I-I mean...” he steps away, trying to recover her name somewhere in his drunken mind. “Luna?”

“Hm?” she rubs her eyes open.

“Hey” he strokes her arm clumsily, “Morning. I might need to leave in a few minutes, you’re a guest here right?”

“Oh, yes” she gets up in a stretch. “I’m so sorry”

“It’s alright, thank you for last night”

“It was nothing” she recalls him laying on her lap bawling his eyes out as she tries to comfort him the best she can. “I hope you figure yourself out”

“Thank you” he pulls her in for a friendly hug and walks her to the door.

Now that he’s alone, he takes his phone again to no avail. She won’t answer, she won’t even listen to his voicemail. He then googles her name to search for recent news, the most recent one is about Frank’s new affair and his sister’s approval, the last one indicating her location is three months old, when she joined him in Jamaica. He checks her social media, Frank’s, all her former bandmate’s but when he least expects it, he finds a clue.

Her friend Matty, who he hasn’t seen in months, posted a photo wearing one of Harry’s old t-shirts, a white one he wore to a Burberry fashion show. Without a second thought, he reaches out.

“‘ello? Who’s this?”

“Hey, it’s Harry, Harry Styles” he immediately regrets the call. It is a stupid idea, he shouldn’t be intruding.

“Oh, hey! Sorry, didn’t recognize your voice”

“I’m sorry... listen chap, I need to ask you something and you might find it weird but when was the last time you saw Olivia?”

He ponders for a moment, “She came by when her tour began last year, but we haven’t talked much ever since” Harry sighs in defeat, “But I saw Frank last weekend when I was in LA”

“Weird, I just saw a picture of you with a shirt just like mine-“

“It probably is, I got it from Frank” he shuts his eyes in realization. Of course, Frank is like a damn vampire, only he takes his peer’s clothes. “He stole a shirt from me, thought I’d do the same to him”

“Did he mention anything about Oli at all?”

“No, she said she’s just fine... but he was weird about it, I could tell” Matty confesses, always prizing his truthfulness.

“I see... cheers mate, sorry for the weird questions”

“No problem, let me know if you need anything”

Another finished phone call, another silence. He hates the silence, all that’s left in silence are his troubled thoughts. Slowly he falls back to sleep thinking about her, dreaming of their home in New York, Oli waking up early to water the plants as he played the guitar in the garden, making dinner together, napping together at their studio’s couch after a long day of work. He wakes up a bit lost and finds his writing journal few inches away from a pool of wine he accidentally spilled last night. He hoisters the journal carefully but lets something fall in that puddle: a map.

“No, no no no” he picks it up and runs to the bathroom pressing the white towels against the paper. He unfolds the thing and stares in slight relief as the whole thing wasn’t too affected. That map of New York has so many precious memories recorded on it, her handwriting is all over the place. He finds the spot east of Central Park where she marked with a circle and wrote ‘home’.

He wants to go home, he wants to relive their good moments and make new ones. Every piece of poetry in that book somehow reminds him of her. There’s the one describing how he felt after their vacation in Rio, when he got to see her interacting with the place she grew up on. She was so fulfilled, so joyful... He had then rented a penthouse across the street from the beach where they could see the whole coastline. They’d wake up in bliss, make love all morning and spend hours just on pillow talk. Then he’d take her to the sea and hold her legs around his waist, leaning to kiss her between the waves, her touch light on him. He called the poem “Waves in Her Eyes”, he never felt like making it a song, just a good reverie.

One of his favorites, “Spotlight”, is about watching her perform. She feels so in sync with her music, it’s like she’s possessed by it. He always idealized her when he saw her onstage, after all she looked other-worldly beautiful, but coming off stage that side of her disappeared and she was just Oli: playful, simple, charming Oli. He remembers watching her practice when she’d spend the weekends in his flat in London, one earpod giving her the playback as he could only hear her powerful low-pitched voice roaring the melodies.

He dozes off quite often, waking up randomly to read another poem, drink some wine and doze off again. When it’s noon, he picks up the phone to no messages of her.

“Hey Oli, it’s me again. This is getting old, but I just want to talk to you... You’re so fucking complicated, ay? Why won’t you ever say what you wanna say?” he spits bitterly but immediately regrets it. “Sorry, in your defense, that side of you never stopped me from loving you. I do it almost like breathing. But now... I know I’ve fucked up, but so did you. I’ll never give up on us but I’m tired of apologizing to silence, maybe one day you’ll call me and tell me that you’re sorry too... who am I kidding, you never do, do you?”

He loses track of the days he’s spent in the hotel room. One evening, Mitch comes around with his guitar to play something he’s working on but Harry barely clocks in.

“This is a bunch of shit” Mitch groans, looking around the place.

“Sorry mate, I’m not really in the mood for it”

“By the looks of it, your mood is only self-pity and wine. I could agree with wine but self-pity isn’t cool”

“I’ve never felt less cool, Mitch” Harry sighs.

“Fuck’s sake... Harry, go to New York”

“She might not be there-“

“She might be” he counters, willing to play cup half-full if it gets his friend out of this mess.

“I have to finish the album”

“You’re not finishing the album like this”

“I’ll write you something, I promise” he insists, the album is the last string he has grounding him to her world, he needs to finish it.

“Don’t force yourself to it, do what you want whenever you want it. I’ll be right here pal”

“Thanks Mitch”

He doesn’t remember when he left, nor how he came to the hotel room in the first place, but now he finds himself at the dinning table staring down a blank page of his journal. There’s so much he feels but very little he can put into words. In his haze, he thinks about writing about a particularly steamy night they spent together. It started with them making out on the couch, but slowly their touches became more daring and things got heated. He can’t take the pen to write as he’s too busy playing with himself.

He feels disgraceful, unable to work, to leave the hotel or do anything but feel sorry for himself. But suddenly, his phone rings. In a room so doomed by silence, his ringtone feels like a needle piercing his eardrums. “Hello?”

“Harry?” Frank asks from the other end of the line, “Is that you? Are you ok?”

“How the fuck you think I am?” he answers in a fickle tone, “Why didn’t you answer my texts, I’ve been trying to talk to you for days”

“I know man, I feel awful about it”

“Where is she?” his anger simmers to a small whimper.

“She’s in New York”

“Why won’t she answer my calls?”

Frank dallies with his words trying to find the best ones for this situation, “Harry, there’s something she needs to tell you but she doesn’t know how”

“What is it?” he begs.

“I can’t tell you, I swore to her I wouldn’t”

“Ain’t that precious: she can’t tell me, you can’t tell me, I might as well just fuck off”

Frank feels the full weight of his heart-break, which is in part his fault as he couldn’t talk Olivia through her silence, but this is his only chance to atone. “Tomorrow we’ll play at Jim’s to celebrate the band’s anniversary, 9:00 pm. Your name will be on the list. Don’t miss it”

Without further ado, he ends the call.

Harry leaps up in a burst of energy and starts packing his stuff. With everything packed, he looks at the mess he left in the room. If Anne was in this hotel room, she’d bash him up for his behavior, so in honor of her education he makes sure to leave the place spotless. After that, he texts Frank an apology. They both fucked up, but Frank never deserved this treatment. Years of friendship have made him look at his in-law through Oli’s lens, her undying love for him is contagious.

“Hey love, if you haven’t heard any of my voicemail you won’t hear this either, but I’m coming home. What I’m doing here without you doesn’t make sense. I hope when we get to see each other we’ll figure ourselves out, ‘cause this small taste of life without you is quite miserable... anyway, we’ll sort ourselves out. I love you”

He books himself an overnight ticket to New York and leaves, spending the whole trip trying to justify his absence to Ryan and the other producers. He can't work until he's got Oli back, or at least until they're sorted out.

He arrives at Jim's pub almost at the end of the show, calmly strolling down the snowy streets. The doors open to a crowded hall, he has to squeeze between the guests to find a privileged spot. Once he gets it, there's nothing between him and Oli. He sighs and smiles until her eyes find his beneath the spotlight.

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Masterlist

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breakingitswings · 4 years

Note

1-30

Not sure if this is all 30 I had to copy and paste one at a time

your favourite playlist (made by yourself or someone else): damn my old crying playlist from like 6 or so years ago. Never ever failed to hit hard

how many houseplants in your room, and what kinds are they?: none, not a plant person, although I like how they look, succulents are cute though

your favourite “grounding” activity (anything that involves using the hands/doesn’t involve “spacing out” or escapism - something like gardening, knitting, dancing, cooking): cleaning, cuz that usually involves dancing

an account on social media whose posts make you smile: my girl somethingabouttheway haha like the last account here I follow that's active. And a girl we know on fb always posts the funniest things.

5 tv shows that cheer you up: the office, brooklyne nine nine, soul eater, ouran high school host club, the good place

how you get relaxed when you’re struggling to sleep: I don't, I just put on YouTube and wait till I knock out

your favourite board game: my bros and I took a monopoly board and made our own, however it's broken and while one bro was getting all these things I still technically won. A version 2.0 patch is still to come

if you were going to write a non-fiction book on any topic, what would it be?: not sure, maybe heartbreaks, just curious to actually talk to people about emotions and thoughts on life in general but pain is always interesting

a quote that you would consider getting tattooed or putting in a frame: "We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?" Dead Poets Society

something you’ve created in the last year that you’re proud of (a playlist, a piece of art, some writing, a craft hobby, a social media account, etc): oof been a year of just getting by, well last how many years I guess. One of my bros and i are trying to write more, we keep brainstorming ideas whenever we hang out

a tip or hack you’ve learned that makes cleaning or tidying easier: nothing, still clean how I usually do

if you could make a candle that smelt like anything, what would you pick?: I don't even know, honestly my favorite scent is usually from a girl so

the last so-bad-it’s-good joke you heard: what's a duck's favorite drug? Quack lol wasn't that good but a friend and I were just sending jokes at each other it was a good moment

an artist (of any kind) whose work you look forward to seeing: in what way? I mean love to see whatever epik high does next. Or I wanna read more of Neil Gaiman. Or now that I've heard of Terry Pratchett I wanna read the Discworld series

the last tv episode that made you laugh out loud: brooklyn nine nine, watch it every week

how you wake your body up when it’s feeling tired, achy or needs a stretch: so I slap my chest, rotate my shoulders and start jumping

a bath, shower, beauty or toiletry product that makes you feel revived, or that you always re-order when it’s running out: nada

a book series you can always escape in: I wanna read series of unfortunate events again, I have most of the books, found them at a place that sells used books

the sport or exercise you enjoy the most, and what’s helped you get better at it: basketball, I still suck, but the sound and movements, the rhythm, feels amazing

a skill you’ve picked up in the past few years: I am a guy of no skill sorry

a youtube video you find useful, entertaining or relaxing:

https://youtu.be/AaV8NeT0fnY

And this isn't even mu favorite episode

if you were going to dye your hair any colour of the rainbow, what would you choose?: so weeb of me but I been wanting to do a white or silver with black mix. Was actually getting the balls to do it for vacation but that's canceled

the book you just finished and what you thought (no spoilers!): Good Omens was really good, not my favorite from Gaiman but how do i even compare books from my favorite author. It was enjoyable the whole way, i had fun and laughs.

describe the most wacky, weird and wonderful at-home outfit you’ve put together: don't think I have one, I prefer less clothes at home lol

a game you’re playing that takes your mind off things: besides the obvious of animal crossing haha astral chain

the film you watched most recently that you could watch again and again: tough one, I don't watch too many of the good ones over and over like I enjoyed parasite and knives out but not sure I'd watch often. I'd probably get sick of sonic or alita or detective pikachu after too many. AH rush hour was on tv, damn I can watch those all the time and still laugh

your favourite flavour and brand of tea: not sure, kinda just drink whatever tea is lying around the house. Not a big tea drinker but I like it and prefer it over coffee

a good-will story you’ve heard on the news that’s made you feel hopeful: my friend invited me to a fb group called go outside and howl at 8pm and it's just super wholesome seeing strangers send supporting messages or how people can post recovery type stories and find solace. Makes my day seeing it

a favourite easy recipe: 5 ingredients or less, or takes less than 30 min to make: does spaghetti take long? Cuz mom's spaghetti of marinara sauce, ground beef, pasta, brown sugar, sausages and pasta (yes that's 6 but whatever) love it

a song that makes you want to have a boogie round your bedroom:

https://youtu.be/Lbc2BkJrvWQ

My favorite singer took one of my favorite songs from him and changed it up and I still love it

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aleafofinspiration · 4 years

Text

Banana pancakes

Saturday morning. She woke up to the sound of a sizzling pan and the smell of something delicious. Someone was cooking? The kitchen is quite far away from her own room, so how could she hear it so crystal clear as if she was in the kitchen? She turned around, burying her face in the blanket. The bed was comfy and warm... much comfier. The blanket smelled different than usual..? Panic taking over her mind completely, she opened her eyes immediately and shot right up straight in the unfamiliar bed.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. Did you sleep well?”

Kohane turned her head to see Gabriel standing just around the tiny corner. He was standing there a few meters away, apparently cooking something in the small open kitchen.

Her eyes darted around the room she found herself in. It was a small studio with a kitchen. She was on a single person bed against the wall. At the end of the bed was a wardrobe in the corner. At the opposite wall was a flatscreen television above a cupboard. She could recognise some game consoles and games laying upon it. Between the tv and the bed was a low coffee table with a carpet underneath and with her height of vision, sitting on the bed, she could see a thin yoga mattress spread out with a blanket and a pillow. The room had a floor to ceiling window on one side. She could see an empty balcony and beyond that, a not so height sight over the city. She guessed she must be on a floor between the 5th and 10th of a flat.

“Well, that certainly is a sight I wouldn’t mind to wake up to every morning.” Gabe nodded and gave her a grin before turning his eyes back to the food in the pan.

Her eyes moved to herself on the bed. She was... half naked only in her underwear?! Quickly did she cover up herself with the blanket. Oh no... did they..? Did he..? She couldn’t remember anything. She remembered going to the school prom, being bored and having Gabe stick to her like glue while the rest of the students tried to distance themselves as much as possible with her. Desperately did she dig through her brain to find the remaining memories of last night, of how she ended up here, but nothing came to mind alas. There’s only one way to find out the how, why and what...

“... Say... did we... do anything last night...?” was her first question.

There was a bit of silence, only the sound of sizzling from the cooking, that could be heard before he hesitantly answered her. “... you don’t remember..?”

She turned her head to Gabe, concern in her serious eyes. “Just tell me.”

He pondered for a bit. Sure, he could mess with her like he would usually do. He would say something like of course, you were amazing! But he also knew this was something that shouldn’t be joked about. Especially not with her. He turned off the heat, before meeting her eyes. “No, we did not. I didn’t think it would be comfy to sleep in that fancy dress, which is why I helped you out of it. Also, I slept over there.” His head nodding at the improvised bed on the floor.

He could see the relief washing over her. The girl still held onto the blanket tightly, her eyes looking at the bed on the floor. It made sense for her to BE still in her underwear then... Probably if they did do it, she wouldn’t be wearing anything...

Gabriel walked over to what he would call his living / bedroom, and grabbed a hoodie and a pair of shorts from the wardrobe at the end of his bed. Gabe handed them to Kohane. “You can take a shower if you’d like to, while I finish making breakfast. Just grab a new towel from the cupboard in the bathroom.”

While with one hand covering herself, she took the clothing from Gabe with the other. Was that a slight blush on her cheeks? Hmm… “The bathroom is over there, the door next to the kitchen.”

“… Can you look away?” Yep, that’s definitely a blush. He chuckled to himself. He had already seen most of it last night anyhow… Of course, he wouldn’t mind seeing more… and more often. but he’ll keep that remark to himself for now.

“Sure.” Gabe walked off to the kitchen again, intentionally taking his time to grab some fruit from the fridge. As the fridge door covered most of his sight, he could hear her footsteps behind him and feel her presence walking past. The door to the bathroom opened, the light switch was being flicked on and then the door closed again. And then the door was locked. And soon after, he could hear the water streaming down from the shower.

If she just knew what happened last night… He sighed as he put the banana pancakes on two plates. After cutting and adding some fresh blueberries and banana to the pancakes and drizzling some maple syrup on them, he took them to the coffee table along with some cutlery. He then returned to the kitchen to pour and grab two mugs of hot tea to accompany the meal. Gabe sat down on his “new” bed and scrolled through his social media, waiting for Kohane to join him for breakfast. It only took a few minutes before he could hear the door unlock. He looked at the girl appearing in his hoodie, obviously a bit oversized for her, and his barely visible shorts sticking out underneath it. Her hair was tied up in a knot. No matter what she was wearing though, she somehow seemed to rock it in Gabe’s eyes. There was something undeniably charming about her.

“They are somewhat big.” She stated.

“Can’t help it that I don’t have your clothing here. You can leave some here next time you come over… but I doubt you’d be needing any clothing the next time hehe.” Gabe joked.

And… she was already done with his jokes. Kohane sighed mentally.

“Here, let’s have breakfast. I made banana pancakes.” He gestured her over to join him. “You can sit on the carpet. I do it all the time.”

She sat down opposite of him and eyed the breakfast he made. She didn’t take Gabe for someone that could cook very well, but the meal in front of her looked amazing.

“Hey, I cook for myself. I know how to cook.” He said, reading her mind. “Anyway, let’s eat. Itadakimasu!” He picked up his fork and knife to eat after clapping his hands once. She followed suit, being grateful for the meal.

“Bananas are supposed to be good for hangovers. How do you feel?” the guy asked before he brought a piece of pancake to his mouth.

“… Ah right…” she mumbled as if remembering that she had drunk last night, while cutting the pancake with her cutlery. “I actually feel quite okay. So… what exactly happened last night…?”

Almost finishing the first of his three pancakes, he looked up for a second at her. He finished chewing his bite, then proceeded to tell her about last night while cutting up his second pancake.

“You have probably realised it by now, but someone - or rather someones in plural - had been putting alcohol in your drinks last night. Aniki realised it later that night, after seeing some people sneakily hiding empty bottles of strong liquor under the tables. He warned me and asked me to watch you more closely. By then, you already had quite a lot… so I decided to take you home, before the teachers notice that you had had alcohol. This place was closer to the venue than your home.” Gabe took another bite. He felt her eyes staring at him intently. Her hands were holding the cutlery, but she didn’t move them. “You were already half asleep as you arrived here. I helped you out of your dress and had you drink a gallon of water, before you really passed out. Then I tucked you into bed and went to sleep myself. And then they lived happily ever after. Fin.”

“… I see.” She nodded slowly, processing the information. “… Did I do anything weird…?”

Gabe finished his second pancake. “Well… depends on what you find weird. Hmm…” He thought for a bit, then chuckled. “There maybe was one thing… It’s weirdly cute to see you ask me to help unzipping your dress. That was quite exciting.”

“… Never mind.” She rolled her eyes and started eating her breakfast. It was surprisingly really really good.

Soon, the guy finished his breakfast. Gabriel had always been a quick eater. He took a sip of tea, as he observed the girl eating. It would go unnoticed by others, but it didn’t escape Gabe’s observant nature: there was a shimmer of happiness in her face as she ate the meal he prepared. Gabe made a mental note for himself that Kohane loved pancakes.

“So… now I’ve practically saved your life, you owe me one~” Gabriel chimed happily.

Kohane sighed and continued eating, not even sparing a look at the probably ridiculous grin on Gabe’s face. Let’s just get it over with, she said to herself. “So what do you want this time?”

“Easy.” Gabe stood up from his seat and walked around the coffee table.

Now, she looked up to meet his eyes. To look at the guy towering over her, as she sat on the carpet. She raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Gabe sat down behind her on the bed, then shoved off the bed to sit directly behind her on the carpet. “… To let me sit and hold you from behind like this while you eat.” He wrapped his arms around her waist.

“…” she couldn’t really refuse his request. It was not nearly as bad for a request. A weird one for sure, but not a bad or hard one. She could feel him against her back. It was somewhat embarrassing and uncomfortable, but after all he had done last night… and these godly pancakes? She couldn’t reject him.

Gabriel could feel her body temperature through his hoodie. At first when he sat down, he sensed her tensing up. Yet, slowly he felt her becoming more comfortable with him. He sat there silently in the comfort of her presence and her warmth. The scent of his own bodywash had mixed with her own scent.

And to be honest? As uncomfortable the close contact was to Kohane, she slowly but surely got accustomed to it, finding it a rather pleasant feeling as well. As she started to notice the change, she blushed slightly, hoping Gabriel wouldn’t notice it from behind.

“… I’m done eating.” the girl whispered after she finished her plate.

He rested his head on her shoulder. “… Can we stay like this for a little longer?” he whispered back. He could feel the rhythm of her breathing. She felt so close and so alive in his arms.

She could feel his somewhat muscular arms embracing her a bit tighter. Her mind was a mess. Her heart skipped a beat. She reached for her cup of tea to take a few sips.

They sat there for quite a while in silence. Gabe lifted his head off her shoulder, guessing time was over. Kohane looked over her shoulder, her emerald eyes looking at his dark brown ones. Her eyes locked him in place.

She was so close. He was so close. Their lips were only three inches away. They were breathing the same air. Both of their hearts skipped another few beats.

She didn’t move away. Could that mean she was okay with it? She did realise what would come next in such a shoujo manga scene, no? So Gabe decided to test the waters and tried closing the distance slowly. Carefully observing her face, he moved in closer. Her cheeks were a velvet red.

Just before their lips touched, a loud melody rang through the room, startling both of them. Annoyed, Gabriel let go of Kohane and got up from his seat. “Sorry, my phone.”

The guy grabbed his phone from the television cupboard, glancing at the name of the caller. Visibly and audibly agitated, he picked up, stopping the source of the loud noise of his ringtone. “Ya Aniki. Yea. She fine.”

Never had she seen Gabe annoyed with Nick before. He always appears to be quite fond of his cousin. She giggled silently at the odd sight. It felt like she had discovered new sides to Gabriel today.

And just in that moment, Gabe saw a glimpse of Suzuki in Kohane. They indeed were twins after all. It felt like he had discovered Kohane is just a girl like any other after all.

#DGH-PHS02 #fiction #aleafofinspiration #OC #romance #shoujomanga #almostkiss #inspiration #writing #fantasy #fictional #imagination #storywriting #highschoolAU

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