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halemerry · 9 months

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I’m doing it. I’m breaking down the Scene. You know the one. I've been tearing it apart for a week straight now in discord and figured I should leave my observations here. So, uh, yeah, this one's a big one so buckle up folks!

I want to start with the build up because I can never leave well enough alone and because I think the framing we have coming into this sequence is important. We start with the camera on Mr. Acts of Service himself. Crowley, after banishing Muriel, starts cleaning up the bookshop. The music playing is the soft slow rendition of the opening theme. He is returning this space to the status quo, resetting back to normal, fully intending to do this for Aziraphale before dragging him out to the Ritz, falling back on their typical pattern of going out together for food and drink.

Now in a moment he's going to get interrupted by Nina and Maggie but before we get there I want to take a second to draw attention to the area of the bookshop that Crowley will be operating in for the bulk of this. This space is one we very frequently see Aziraphale in. It's his desk behind the till - a spot linked intrinsically to him, even down to the fact that it's located on the east side of the shop. The windows are throwing beams of light onto Aziraphale's chair and onto the same spot Crowley will stand during The Scene. This lighting choice will not change from now until our last shots in the bookshop and the way the blocking plays around these sunbeams is very aware (as Good Omens nearly always is) of exactly where they will land.

Nina and Maggie enter the scene to have a chat about boundaries and communication. Maggie, his own mirror, tells him flat out that he can't play with their lives like that. Maggie and Nina then both tell him that he and Aziraphale need to talk. And I don’t think they're wrong, exactly, but I do think that Aziraphale and Crowley are actually a lot better at communicating in general than they are in these following high stakes scenes. But that's some meta for later - for now I want to just focus on the particular way Crowley's been primed for the conversation he and Az are about to have. Nina in particular does something really interesting. She does exactly what we as the audience did when we first saw Nina and Maggie: she mistakenly projects herself onto Crowley. She says he has trust issues because she does and in the process accidentally frames the core of their problem as Crowley needing to allow himself to trust Aziraphale, a thing that he actively already does and has done for quite some time and has been shown to us several times throughout the two seasons.

Now the build up we get for Aziraphale going into this conversation is very small. By which I mean practically non-existent. We start at the end of his conversation with the Metatron who tells him to go tell his friend the good news - which notably does not imply that the news is something that would require Crowley to make a choice - and sends Aziraphale on his way. Now the most crucial thing in this sequence, to me, is the expressions Aziraphale makes when he thinks the Metatron isn't looking at him. While polite and smiley when engaged with him, Az's expression falls as soon as he doesn't have eyes on him. Something is wrong and Aziraphale knows it.

Aziraphale enters the shop. The doorway is dark and shadowy and he hasn't composed himself yet - though he does give Nina and Maggie a little smile as they leave. Then, as soon as they're not looking at him, but before he approaches Crowley, the tension is back.

He hesitates, then smiles and approaches Crowley. Crowley, planted dead center in that beam of light from earlier, takes off his glasses and promptly starts nervously rambling. The music cuts off here entirely, giving us nothing to focus on but the noises coming from our lead actors, the background noise from the street, and the ticking of the clock in the background. Aziraphale puts up his hands like he's going to interrupt then lowers them again as Crowley keeps talking, his face shifting into this helpless sort of smitten look.

Now look at the light and how it hits the bookshelves behind Crowley as he tries to get his confession going. It's in the shape of a wing. Keep an eye on that - when the camera chooses to show us this one wing of light is important.

Aziraphale then interrupts and there are two things I want to draw attention to here as Aziraphale fumbles for words. First of all is the fact that he glances in the direction of the door (and the Metatron) at least three times as he's struggling to speak.

Secondly, I want to draw attention to the words Az actually says here. He first echoes the Metatron's earlier statement about good news. He then does not roll into the news itself and instead glances at the door and says the Metatron. He starts rambling about the Metatron to a very confused looking Crowley and evetually talks his way into that the Metatron said something. He then hits a wall again, scrambling to find words and instead of explaining the context of what the Metatron says he lands on Gabriel. His brain latches onto someone obviously on the forefront of both their minds and something vaguely relevant to the news he's about to share. He rambles more about Gabriel's job, glancing once again at the door in the middle of this, still avoiding getting to the actual point or perhaps even synthesizing said point as he goes.

We then cut to what is framed as a flashback. I think it is very notable we only see this as Az is telling it to us. In other words that this is not us witnessing an event happening but us witnessing what Aziraphale is telling Crowley. This sequence is the single scene where the Metatron calls Crowley by name despite actively avoiding it in any real time continuity sequences. He uses it twice here which I think also is the strongest thread in here that tells us that we are seeing what Crowley is being told not necessarily what actually happened.

The instant the idea of restoring Crowley comes up the wing of light behind Crowley loses visibility. Crowley's speechless for a moment so Aziraphale fills the silence, already looking like he wants to cry as he talks about the old days. (I also can't help but to notice that the lights behind Az in this shot look like eyes.) Crowley finally speaks and circles around the beam of light he's been standing in like an object seeking to re-establish a source of gravity. The music cuts back in here with tense drawn out notes.

Crowley talks about how Hell offered him his place back and he turned them down. Aziraphale in turn presses on ideas that we know he doesn't really believe. It's a echo of the bandstand and uses a lot of the same language of that fight - another fight we know features Aziraphale saying things he knows aren't true. By now, we have seen him multiple times this season express he does not want to go back and make it abundantly clear that the side they have made for themselves is important to him. We see him actively calling angels bad and incompetent, contrary to everything he's telling Crowley here. We see him be the one to repetitively remind Crowley that they are on their side and be the one that always draws attention to that first. Yet here he says Heaven is the side of light to Crowley - who by the way is literally framed in light. The frame is telling us outright that Crowley is already Good as he is, while Az's expressions are telling us he knows Heaven isn't.

Aziraphale can't tell him that he did not turn down the job and Crowley does another orbit. The music cuts again. This time, he stops with his back to Az, tilts his head upward and decides to ruin me by invoking God.

Here he is, hearing these awful things that he was sure they had moved on from, hearing these things he has tried for so long and so hard to help them both unlearn. But these sorts of habits and lessons are insidious and he knows that and he himself is even a victim of that himself. I mean, don't get me wrong, he recognizes this is weird, I think, but between his own self worth issues and the stress of the few days they'd had can't work out what exactly is off here. He's confused and lost and just been told, in his mind, that he is not good enough as he is - a thing he has always on some level also believed. Yet he reaches out to the parent that taught him that lesson in the first place for strength and grounds himself with that. He circles back to stand in the beam of light and, with that wing of light finally backlighting him again, he is brave and tries to be enough anyway. He bows his head downward, fully emerging the line of this body in the light and tries again. Because even now, even after that emotional blow, Crowley is an optimist who can't help but to try.

At first Aziraphale can't figure out quite what is going on here. He squints at Crowley and glances at the door again. Crowley meanwhile keeps continually glancing upward, whether at God or to hold back tears or some combination of both. In most of these shots Crowley bisects the room, creating a dark half to his left and a light half to his right.

Crowley says he relies on Aziraphale. Even here, even now when he's just hurt him. Because it is the truth. Because Aziraphale makes him feel less alone. Because Aziraphale proves to him that no matter how fucked the system is that there is still good in the world, even if he doesn't always agree with it.

It is only once there is no doubt what Crowley is doing that Aziraphale starts shaking his head in very small quick shakes. He looks panicked even as they both physically draw closer to each other. It's huge not here, not like this energy to me. Aziraphale asks Crowley to come with to help him run Heaven. This is the point where Crowley starts tearing up.

Crowley then says you can't leave this bookshop, trying to say you can't leave me. Az, nearly in tears himself, says 'oh Crowley. Nothing lasts forever' as a means to convey that the books aren't what is important here. Crowley, naturally, hears 'including us.'

Crowley looks down again, quietly agrees, and puts on his glasses, covering himself up again. He then wishes Aziraphale good luck and the music starts up again, still tense but sorrowful now. He leaves the light and heads to the door. Az can't help but to call after him. Please wait. And Crowley can't help but to listen. It's worth noting here that even as he rotates toward the north door, the light still gently hits his face. The shots in general are darker though. He's moved away from the light but it still can't help but to touch him.

"Come with me," says Aziraphale and then after a pause adds "To Heaven." Aziraphale, looking heartbroken, starts one of two 'I' statements he will struggle around in the next few moments. He lands on I need. Which. I want to pause there a moment because holy shit. That is not something they say out loud either. Az looks at him a moment, visibly struggling before he says his dialogue about Crowley not understanding his offer. Like he's said something he didn't mean to and needs to cover it up or like he can't handle the silence after such an honest statement. And on some level he's not wrong there. Because Crowley doesn't understand what Aziraphale is trying to say. But Aziraphale doesn't understand the way Crowley is reading it to course correct either.

Crowley says that he does understand and that he understands better than Aziraphale does. And he also isn't wrong either, from his perspective. Because he does understand the implications behind the offer theoretically in play here. Because he does know that the position Aziraphale is presenting him is not going to result in the outcome Aziraphale is presenting him with. There are some things you can't undo just like memories slipping through the cracks.

Az says there's nothing more to say, trying to dismiss Crowley despite having been the one to pull him to a stop moments ago. He puts on a fake polite smile for a beat but then his is jaw sets, mouth working as his eyes drop - unable to look Crowley in the eye.

Crowley tells him to listen as the music fades out and points upward. Aziraphale humors this, glancing up a few times before looking frustrated, saying he can't hear anything. The light from the window shines down in his direction without actually touching him. Crowley tells him "That's the point. No nightingales." The shot he's on here is a dark one without even any of the book shops pillars visible in it to brighten the shot.

Aziraphale looks frozen a moment here and then as Crowley calls him an idiot and says 'we could have been us' his face completely crumbles. He rapidly glances away to hide his face and Crowley moves and reaches to pull him back. They're both distraught. Az is clearly already holding back tears even before Crowley touches him. The angle of this shot frames Aziraphale in the light of the window. For the first time in this whole sequence Aziraphale is in the light, literally being physically pulled into it by Crowley.

The music swells, playing a similar theme to the one that plays as the Pillars of Creation are formed at the start of the season. They shift back and forth, the camera focusing on Aziraphale's face and hands. His hands move uncertainly, trying to reach out even as he's struggling emotionally. He is visibly shaking but he crucially does not pull away, not even a little.

His hands settle on Crowley's back, right where his wings would be, and for a brief moment gets taller, like he's allowing himself to lean into the kiss. They press together tightly, their mutual gravity sending them crashing together before they break apart. When they do Aziraphale looks devastated and his eyes move pretty much instantly to look out the window where the Metatron would be.

Crowley's glasses make him harder to read here, but he looks at Aziraphale like a man awaiting judgement in a trial he knows he's already lost. He's sad too, but as always, is waiting for Aziraphale's reaction. Because he might push continually at he boundaries of them as a unit but he has always let Aziraphale decide where to set them in stone.

Az fumbles over words here. He gets stuck on "I" here and lets it hang in the air. He then visibly thinks his words over, his expression slowly filling with resolve as he comes to some sort of conclusion. Then, like it's difficult to say, he falls back into old coded language. "I forgive you." A thing he has always said in response to things that he agrees with but cannot or should not allow himself to have.

Crowley sighs and tells him not to bother, refusing to fall into the old pattern that Aziraphale has. He is setting a boundary, for once, and even if it is one born from misunderstanding I am proud of him for being able to. He turns away and leaves. And this is where Az seems most in danger of falling apart. His lips move as Crowley goes, forming the start of a 'no' after him. He draws back from the door and turns his body away from it, physically distancing himself from anything that would feel like following Crowley. Except he can't help himself. With shaking hands he reaches up to touch his lips. He presses in, like he's trying to recreate the pressure and then his jaw works a moment and his expression sets as resolved.

The Metatron enters through the front door, which is framed in dark lighting. Aziraphale looks panicked and immediately turns his whole body away from him to hide his face while he collects himself.

He turns around after a beat and the Metatron asks 'how did he take it?' This is an odd question that only sort of half fits the fact that we are meant to believe at this point - that Aziraphale should be obtaining a yes or no from Crowley. It's not asking Crowley's choice at all. It's like the Metatron assumed a different conversation had happened or perhaps that he already knew the answer.

Aziraphale says he took it badly and the Metatron just takes a moment to direct a few casual digs at Crowley. He references him being stubborn and too curious - all the while avoiding the use of this name. At this point Az's eyes are locked out the window in the direction Crowley vanished to. The Metatron asks if he's ready to start despite originally having promised Az time to think over his answer. Aziraphale keeps glancing out the window.

For a moment he cracks, stepping away from the Metatron and back toward the east side of the bookshop. For the only time in this whole sequence he steps right into the sunbeam Crowley started in. It notably never illuminates his face as he mentions the issue of his bookshop (a statement absolutely not about the bookshop).

The Metatron explains Muriel will take care of it. Aziraphale looks back out the window with the start of an objection.

The Metatron interrupts him asking if there's anything he needs to take with him. Az's mouth takes a moment to try and form words. He steps out of the light again, starts to object, and then cuts off, eyes back to the window. Then his expression shifts again, settling in another state of resolve before he puts on his falsely polite face and follows the Metatron out.

As they leave the shop we cut back to Crowley. Crowley, who could've left to go handle his own emotions, did not leave. Instead he planted himself there, nice and noticeable. Like he wanted Aziraphale to see and know that he still has a choice. Like he needs to see Aziraphale make that choice for himself. Like he can't quite bring himself to be the one to close that last door. He stands there, framed by light, and doesn't move until the doors to the elevator to Heaven close behind Aziraphale. He then glances at Nina and Maggie and then gets in the Bentley, which starts playing the song that we now know he knows is supposed to be theirs. He turns off the music and drives away.

So there's a lot in these sequences and most of it probably won't help us figure out exactly what comes next, but there are definite signs that all is not as it's being presented to us. Whether he's actively lying or not, something is wrong that Aziraphale either can't or won't talk about frankly with Crowley. I suspect, whether it's under stress from a literal threat or because he believes that it is the safest option for them, that Aziraphale is doing all of this to protect Crowley.

There are also all sorts of signals here, especially in the lights, that gesture at the fact their togetherness is a net good. Together they are balanced and stronger for it and likely more in alignment with the Ineffable Plan. And, more importantly than that, that said togetherness is so clearly what they both want. They have loved each other longer than anything alive has ever loved anyone and none of this changes that. They both are saying that in their own ways here, even if those ways are not ones the other is particularly good at picking up and I for one cannot wait to get to see the payoff of them learning how to.

#good omens #gos2 spoilers #good omens spoilers #good omens meta #kind of #is it meta if its mostly me pointing and yelling?#come suffer with me #you have no idea how many times i had to watch these sequences for this #crowley #aziraphale #the bookshop

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bchan95 · 5 months

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Picture Perfect (Bang Chan x Y/N)

Chan feels uncertain about his style choices, and you're determined to make him feel good about them.

Throwing on the oversized jacket, Chan tilted his head. Studying his appearance in the mirror, he sighs.

“This jacket feels… like a lot,” He starts, spinning back toward you. “What do you think?”

You smirk. The jacket was very Chan. Simple. Black. Sturdy. He loved being decked out in black clothing. You cross your leg, leaning a little to the left to drink him in fully. The simple rolled jeans, the big bulky brown shoes and a plain white t-shirt. Although the outfit may look simple, you couldn’t help but admire his effort.

He shook his head at you “Your silence is killing me…”

You bit down on your bottom lip, lifting yourself off the bed and over in his direction. Your arms wrap completely around him as you approach, leaning your head back to look at him again. His dimple is popped as he smiles down at you, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist too.

“I think...” You start, giggling a bit under your breath under his gaze. “I think you look so cool, Bang Chan.”

You watch as his cheeks begin to flush pink, rolling his eyes at you as he taps your backside lightly. You reach up on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek, bringing the color on his cheeks to a bolder red.

“Baby… don’t tease me.”

You shook your head, pressing your lips to his cheek once more before looking him in the eyes again. You tightened your grip around him with a wide smile splashed across your face.

“I’m not teasing honey,” you started, admiring the crinkle of his nose. “You know I love your style. Simple, but effortlessly sexy.”

You would have thought Chan’s head was going to explode the way he stared at you wide-eyed. You just giggled again, pressing a kiss to his lips this time and sticking your hands in his back pockets. He pressed two, three, four more to yours.

Finally separating, he releases your waist and grabs your hand. Guiding you towards the door, you can’t help but gaze at him as you wander through the living room and out the front door. He had put on that musky cologne that you loved and let his hair drape naturally and wavy on his head.

You had actually begged him not to take you out to a fancy restaurant for once. You longed for a casual, lowkey date night like when you first started dating. Nervously trying to come up with questions for each other to answer as you walked up and down the streets of Seoul. Eating street cart food and looking over at the water before he’d throw his jacket over your shoulders and walk you home.

Now that Chan’s group has made it big, he loves to spoil you. Not that you can complain. You have every perfume, tiny black dress and big romance book you could ever ask for. Fancy five-star dinners just to celebrate the tiniest accomplishments you had at work.

But what you were really craving was just time with him. He had been so busy. First the Maniac album and tour, and then several follow-up projects within the last year… he was nonstop. He’d of course always make time for date night, but it never felt right that you didn’t get the time to just be with him. To be relaxed. Not trying to perform for anyone in particular. Even if it’s just his leveled-up innate kindness to the waiter. You knew that Chan just did this to show you how much he loved and valued you, and you never wanted to feel ungrateful.

That’s why a few nights ago when you brought up the idea of a chilled winter walk and with a quick bite to eat, he looked at you gobsmacked. He fully sat down on the couch next to you, your hands in his, rubbing soft circles on the tops.

“Baby… are you unhappy with our dates lately?”

His eyes were wide and pleading. You shook your head furiously and squeezed his hands.

“Oh god no Channie nothing like that… I just,” you stop, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment. “I just want a night where we can just let go together. No dressing up, no fancy dinners… just us.”

He nods, staying quiet for a moment. His hands dart to your intertwined hands as they rock back and forth.

“Chan…” He looks back up at you with wide glossy eyes. You shake your head and lean up to touch his cheek. “Oh baby, I love everything that you do for me… but I just want a simple night out this time. I promise you’ve done nothing wrong.”

He leaned into your touch, pressing his lips to the side of your hand before looking back at you and nodding, a soft smile across his lips.

So, now you were hand and hand with him, walking leisurely through the darkened streets, filled with bright lights. You smiled to yourself as you watched Chan take everything in. It had been a while since he had been this silent. You slightly shake his hand that’s in yours to get his attention. He looks over at you and his lips curl up slightly.

“Channie baby, are you okay?”

He nods “Yeah, I just….” He sighs, rolling his neck back and forth before stopping the two of you and pulling off to the side of the street.

“Chan?” You were getting anxious now. Maybe he hated this idea and didn’t want to do this lowkey date night. Maybe you had crossed a line.

“Chan,” you started again, your eyes darting across his face. “If you don’t want to do this, it was a silly date idea anyway and-“

Chan zeros back in on you, viciously shaking his head back and forth. He pulled you in closer, but his eyes stayed glued to the ground.

“Do you think…” he sighs before continuing. “Do you think this jacket looks like I’m trying too hard?”

You furrowed your eyebrows together “What do you mean?”

Chan sighs again, eyes finally meeting yours with a pleading stare. “I don’t know, this whole brand name stuff is kind of new to me… I just don’t know if it suits me.”

A small smile pulls across your face as you look at your bashful boyfriend. He looked good effortlessly, and it blew your mind that he thought anything otherwise. You knew his friends would make silly jokes about how “aesthetic” his Instagram has become, and Stays everywhere begging for designer brands to swoop him up in a deal. They all meant well, but you were sure that Chan felt the pressure to look cool.

“Chan… I think you look so cool, baby…”

He sighs “You’re not just saying that?”

You cocked an eyebrow, “Have I ever lied to you?”

He shook his head quickly, leading your smile to widen even more. Your eyes take in your surroundings. In the distance, you see a cool, open building. You weren’t sure if it was actually open, but you had an idea. You grabbed Chan’s hand and started running down the street. He protested, asking a lot of questions but letting you pull him along behind you.

Once you stepped up to the building, you pulled at the door. It opened with ease, and you quickly pulled Chan inside. Once you were inside the building, you smiled looking up at a plain white staircase ahead of you. You tugged on Chan’s hand, pulling him in front of you.

“Go stand up there.”

He looked at you in confusion, staying where he was. “Why?”

You let go of his hand, reaching up and shoving his shoulder forward.

“Just go! Trust me!”

Chan strolled up the stairs, looking down at you in confusion. You grabbed your phone, pointing it in his direction. Once you have your placement you smile up at him. Chan is still thoroughly confused, standing at the side of the staircase.

“Baby,” you call up to him, pointing him toward the middle. “Go to the middle of the staircase.”

He still looked confused, but walked sideways and inched toward your placement. He looked at you expectedly, waiting for his next direction.

“Okay, so I want you to put your hands in your jacket pockets. He followed your instructions and you giggled to yourself before moving forward. “Now I want you to turn your face to the right and smile, and act like you’re walking down.”

“Baby what are you…”

“Just do it, Chan.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. Your cheeks flush pink once you realize how sharp your tone has been.

“Please, baby?”

It’s his turn to chuckle at you. He follows your instructions and you snap a few photos. You look back up at him with a smile before looking down at your phone and scrolling through the pictures.

“Perfect!”

Before he can ask any more questions, you guide him upstairs and set him down in a chair. He looks at you bewildered, watching you post his hands, resting his elbows on the sides of the chair and spreading his legs ever so slightly before moving back to the side.

“Okay baby look slightly to the right again, but this time let your face just sit naturally.”

“Y/N…”

You pout, lip jutting out as you look up at him. “Chan please, it will only take a second.”

He complies, letting you snap a few more photos before pulling him outside. His giggles ring through your ears as you pull him back onto the street. Before you can pull him down the road again, his firm arm pulls you back into him, a small smile pressed against his lips as he looks down at you.

“Sweetheart, what are you scheming…”

You bat your eyelashes at him, widening your gaze. “Nothing Channie, just helping you get Instagram photos. Is that okay?”

He smiles even wider “Baby why do I need Instagram photos right now? That can wait-“

You interrupt him, your hands grabbing at the sides of his jacket, bouncing on the balls of your toes.

“But Channie, this outfit is so perfect. Let me just take a couple more please please please?” You pout again, his hand coming up, finger tapping against your lip, silently instructing you to put it back in.

“Fine baby, but then we’re getting you something to eat,” He grabs your hands, feeling the chill of your palms. “and something warm to drink because it’s getting cold and you didn’t bring mittens.”

You nod, biting back a squeal. You push Chan a bit back from you in front of the Deli sign. Just as you raise your phone again, snow starts to softly fall from the sky. You smile as you see Chan try to capture some into the palm of his hand. Your heart melts, quickly switch over to the record button to take a quick clip of his antics.

He finally notices you filming and motions “no no no” trying to lower your camera. You frown, shaking your head.

“But Chan you are so cute. I have to keep that video.”

You show him the quick clip, loving the way he shies away from your eyes as his cheeks turn rosy. You quietly take a few steps back, snapping two photos of him smiling without knowing before he pleads for his release.

“You’re done now baby,” he says, taking the phone from your hand and placing it into his pocket.

You giggle to yourself as you grab his hand again, this time letting him lead you down the corridor to a nearby shop. You lift his hand up, pressing a kiss to it quickly. He turns back around, halting you both. He leans forward and captures your lips. As you pull away, he smiles brightly at you.

“Handsome,” you mutter softly, keeping your eyes on him. “You are so so handsome baby, don’t forget that.”

He presses his forehead into yours for a moment, leaning in for one more quick peck before guiding you down the freshly fallen snowy path.

#bang chan x y/n #bang chan x reader #bangchan x y/n #bang chan fluff #bang chan fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x y/n #stray kids fanfic #bang chan

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oh-meretseger · 2 months

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part 2 (of whatever this is) - Clean Freak

attack on titan modern college au // Jean Kirstein x fem!reader

notes: 18+! smut (there will be a lot more coming, I’m pouring all my fantasies into this fic lmao so bear with me), Jean being quite a pervert, fantasizing about oral, masturbation

word count: 3,4k

“You're gonna let Jean see you in THAT?!" Sasha yelled out suddenly, right after she promised to stay when Jean was coming over to your dorm to finally finish your project. You had to complete it by Friday, and it was already Wednesday, leaving you the most frustrated with Jean you've ever been. His immature approach to the whole thing made you question how he even got admission to college. The way he ignored all the work and instead kept stealing your notes, your glasses, he pulled your hair, poked his fingers between your ribs made you think he was actually a toddler in an muscular man's giant costume...

"Yeah, you're right, I can't show any surface of skin around that manchild" you glanced in the mirror, and quickly grabbed a pair of sweatpants to slide over the tight shorts that covered definitely too little. Your arms were already covered in bruises due to all the damn poking, pinching and suffering Jean put you through this week. You couldn't let him target your legs next.

Since that ominous day in the library, Jean was more insufferable than ever. You had a feeling that it had to do with the multiple seconds you were kneeling on his lap, pressed up against his chest and face... And the awkward, quiet minutes after that you spent trying to hide your blood red face. You tried to ignore the heat that spread through your body whenever that moment popped into your mind, because it just left you confused.

You also tried not to look Jean into his eyes after that, if not necessary, but you could definitely sense him get ten times more irritating since.

And working on that project with him became impossible.

But you guys finally managed to arrange you and Sasha getting a two-bed dorm room together, and it seemed like the perfect, most peacful place to finally finish the project. With Sasha being there, you hoped you both would detain from bullying the hell out of each other, and actually get the work done.

"Pookie, stop covering up, just let it happen" Sasha laughed, sitting on her bed while watching as your movements became nervous. You turned to her confused. "How long are y'all going to pretend you're not into each other?"

You blushed instantly and turned away, hoping she wouldn't see you getting embarassed right away. What is she talking about?

"Sasha-" you awkwardly searched for the right words to reply, and Sasha chuckled again. "Stop being crazy. We're not into each other"

"Sure, Jan" she replied raising her eyebrows, and you let out a giggle at the joke. Although you wanted her to know how much of an insane idea it was to think that you and Jean...

"He's a damn playboy, he probably has a roaster of girls from around the campus that I definitely wouldn't fit into" you said your thoughts out loud while folding the few pieces of clothes laying around on your bed. "He's an annoying idiot anyway"

"He doesn't have a roaster of girls, actually. But I see why you would think that" Sasha smiled as she watched your movements in the mirror. "He does seem like an arrogant jock, but I've known him for years. He's a sweetheart. And there's definitely something between you two, so stop denying it to yourself, missy”

You quickly turned your back to her while quietly smiling at her words. You hoped she couldn't see, but she chuckled as she caught a glimpse of the curve of your lips in the mirror. Sasha grabbed the pair of jeans laying next to her and started changing her comfy joggers.

"He does seem arrogant, and he makes me go insane on purpose" you frowned, putting the stack of folded clothes away to your closet. "But I've only known him for a few months, so surely, you know him better"

"I do, and he's great. And don't call me Shirley" Sasha jumped from the bed, trying to use the momentum to get her butt into the tight jeans, and you bursted out laughing as you turned to her.

Your smile faded rather quickly as you saw her changing her shirt as well, as if she was getting ready to go out.

"Where are you going?!"

"Oooh sorry, Y/N, I forgot I already made plans with Hisu to go out, we're getting froyo" her eyes sparked with pure joy at those last few words, and you felt yourself shatter, instantly starting to panic.

"NO! You promised you would stay!"

"I knowww, I really am sorry" Sasha pouted, and quickly grabbed her cute little crotcheted bag on her way to the door, as you both heard a loud knock. That pout was SO fake, you knew she was doing this on purpose... Whatever her goal was. "I'll bring you a cup of that blueberry one you like, I promise"

"YOU PRO-" you froze in your place as Sasha reached the door and it swung open, revealing Jean standing in the doorway.

"Hi, Jean!" Sasha looked up at him with the most cheerful, chirping voice, as if she didn't just betray you with this evil surprise of hers. Of course, she'd made no plans to go out with Hisu whatsoever, but she did miss her, and getting multiple cups of froyo sounded like a great afternoon plan. Besides, she did want to leave you and Jean to be in private, completely alone...

"Hi, are you not-"

"No, no, no, I've got EXTREMELY important places to be" Sasha cut Jean off as she grabbed him by his jersey, then yanked him through the doorway and into the room. You stood there in shock, watching her leave you, with him, to suffer.

"Sasha!"

"Bye, pookies!"

BANG. The door slammed shut behind her, and you two were left there, completely alone. Your eyes darted to him, and Jean adjusted the jersey on his chest that Sasha nearly ripped apart a few seconds ago.

He was clearly coming from hockey practice, you could tell not only by the oversized jersey he wore, but also by the way his hair looked. It was messy, a few ashy brown strands sticking to his temple, wet with sweat, although it seemed like he did try to quickly comb it back. His face was flushed, the skin on his cheekbones and nose dusted with a reddish tint, his lips plump and wet from the empty water bottle he held in his hand. Your eyes wandered to the stubble on his sharp jawline, fading down to his neck. The skin slightly glistened from sweat, the muscles creating lines of shadow as he raised his head...

"The hell's wrong with her" he murmured frowning, looking up to see you staring right at him. As the hazel eyes met with yours, the heat forming in your center turned into a definite warm, tingling sensation between your legs, and you felt yourself starting to melt.

What. The. Hell.

There's no way you're getting wet at the sight of this idiot, dripping with sweat, smelling like a boy's locker room.

"I don't know, she's in silly goose mode today" you quickly shrugged and turned your head to break the few moments of silence of you looking into each other's eyes. Jean held back a smile forming on his face, and he dropped his backpack on the rug next to your bed.

"Sorry for being late, practice lasted a little longer than I expected" he apologized, throwing himself on the end of your bed without a second thought. You instantly felt your stomach drop at the thud, and turned to see the most horrific sight you could ever imagine.

Jean's sweaty, dirty body laying on your clean, white bedsheets.

"JEAN!"

"Are you fucking crazy?!" Jean yelled out, half-laughing from the element of surprise, as he tried to defend himself from your immediate attack. You jumped on the bed and started pushing his body down with all the strength you could gather. "AGH, you're breaking my ribs, you rat!"

"Get off of my bed, you're fucking dirty!" you groaned as Jean put his big ass palm on your forehead, trying to get you off of him. An intense wave of anger fueled your effort to move the sweaty body twice as big as yours. "You're getting your sweat all over my stuff!"

"You should be grateful for any bodily fluid of a man touching your stuff" Jean laughed, and moved his palm to cover and smush the whole of your face, when you decided that pushing with your hands was not enough, and started bullying his ribcage with your knee. Your shouts were muffled by his hand pressed into your face, but instead of giving up, you decided to let your teeth do the talking for you. "AARGH!"

Jean's muscles lost their defensive tension due to the sharp pain of your teeth sinking into his palm, and taking adventage of his momentary weakness, you pushed him as hard as you could. His body rolled over and landed on the hardwood floor with a loud thud.

"You're fucking insane" Jean pushed himself to slowly sit up, examining his other hand that you injured with a painful hiss leaving his mouth.

"PTUH, did you not wash your hands after digging in dirt?!" you growled at him, trying to spit out the dirty taste his hand left in your mouth. But that's what you get for biting him, you guessed.

You frantically started brushing off your face when you realized, it was not only your mouth that Jean's dirty palm got smushed into, but also the precious skin of your face.

"Yeah, I jerked off with that hand after that, hope you like the taste" Jean scoffed at you, but the smug look on his face quickly turned into an honest burst of chuckle as he watched you stick out your tongue, trying to get him out of your mouth by the little spitting sounds you were doing.

"You're a prick"

"And you're clinically insane, but here we are" he replied, then pushed himself from the floor to stand up. You followed his actions, then stepped to your closet as you shook your head.

"Here" you threw your largest oversized t-shirt you could find in his direction, and he reached to catch it, followed by the clean towel tossed to his chest. "You can take a shower here"

"A shower?"

"You will NOT rub your sticky body all over my bed" you crossed your arms, looking over to him. You could feel your lips curve into a smile, seeing the confused look on his face, still flushed from running from practice and of course brutally fighting with you. Confusion on that smug face of Jean's was a rare sight to see.

And it was kinda cute.

Huh?

You quickly shook your head to get rid of the stupid thoughts, and pointed your finger in the direction of the bathroom of your dorm. "You stink"

"Get off my back, I'll sit on the chair then" Jean gestured towards the only chair in the room, being Sasha's comfy rolling desk chair - which she definitely didn't want smelling of a dirty, sweating man. You shook your head. "C'mon, I skipped showering and dropped off my stuff at my dorm just to get here in time because of your bitching ass!"

"Don't care, didn't ask" you replied with a snarky, forced smile, and tossed a pair of Connie's sweatpants to him. He lended it to Sasha a few days back, after she yeeted a bucket of chocolate ice cream into her lap at Connie’s and Jean’s dorm.

"Thanks, dipshit" Jean grimaced right back at you, and accepting his loss, turned his back to you to walk into your bathroom. You couldn't help staring at the broad shoulders, his wide back muscles moving under the jersey as he moved, just like his glute muscles under the sweatpants that became visible where the jersey rode up... "Hey, these are my sweats!"

"Tell Connie, he's the one giving away your stuff" you replied with a smirk. "You're welcome, by the way"

Jean shut the door behind him, and you threw yourself on your bed, burying your face in your hands. What the actual fuck is happening in your head?

Jean in your bathroom, on the other hand, was not so confused by his feelings as you were by yours.

He stood in front of the sink and lifted the shirt you gave him up to his face. He closed his eyes as the familiar smell of you filled his nose. It was a clean, kind of a sweet scent, that he knew exactly from all the times he got into your face, bullying you to insanity in the past few weeks.

He smiled to himself at the thought, and threw the clean clothes on the edge of the sink. It was a small bathroom, full of a bunch of shampoo bottles, cream jars, serums, pots, and whatever other girly products he couldn't identify to save his life. There was not much room to put any of his stuff.

Jean started taking his clothes off, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sink. You were kinda right, he did look dirty. His hair was a mess, a few strands dripping of sweat and stuck to his face and neck.

He saw you staring at it when he caught your eyes after Sasha left.

Maybe you thought of him the same way he thought of you? The way he still saw you as a stuck up little nerd, but found you more and more attractive the more he got under your skin, just turned him on so much. More than anything. Maybe it was because your angry moments made your tough, icy shell break, that you specifically made just to hide from him. And under that shell, you were not the mousy dork you wanted him to see.

His dirty, sweat-drenched clothes dropped on the tile floor one by one, as Jean got completely undressed. He saw you getting flustered more and more frequently, when you two were close to each other. He wondered if you thought of him getting naked in that small bathroom right now.

You absolutely did. You felt your cheeks growing warm under your palms, as you laid there, face still buried in your hands, Jean getting undressed on the other side of the door being the only thought in your mind. You wanted to stop the thoughts, but they sent waves of warmth down your body, making you throb in your panties...

And it felt good.

You've been denying the pleasure of letting these thoughts flow free for weeks now. You gave up. He was within a few feet from you, and he was probably already naked.

Jean grabbed the clean towel, and swiftly looked around to find a place to put it, where it'll be within reach from the shower. There was a wicker basket half-full of clothes, with a familiar pair of socks thrown on the top, covered in small little teddy bears. That was definitely Sasha's. Next to it was what looked like another laundry box. That must be yours.

Jean stopped for a moment. Instead of simply using it as a temporary towel holder, he stepped closer to the box and slowly lifted the lid.

Yes, it was definitely yours.

After a quick glance at the closed door, he carefully reached into it, pulling out a familiar lilac top of yours. He remembered it, because it was quite a tight one, not like your usual baggy t-shirts that you liked to hide under. This one top made it hard for him not to look at the round outlines of your perfect tits, your nipples poking through the thin fabric. Jean lifted the top to his nose, getting a whiff of your sweet scent.

Jean felt like such a fucking pervert at that moment. There has never been a need for him to get creepy, he could basically get any girl he wanted. There was not one time when he felt called to stalk on anyone, or act out of line, being in their bathroom and smelling their used clothes.

Dear lord.

He almost, almost convinced himself to cut it off, and just take a shower. But as he reached to drop the lilac top back in the box, a pair of panties caught his eye on top of the laundry. Fuck.

Jean already felt himself getting hard as he pulled out the soft piece of fabric, and felt it between the tips of his fingers. It was a simple cotton pair, with a blue little bow at the top. Jean closed his eyes, imagining the bow sitting right above your little pussy, and blood flowed into his groin, his cock getting rock hard in no time.

He let out a quiet sigh as he imagined how your wet folds must taste just as sweet and salivating as you smelt. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was extremely wrong... But he also couldn't stop now.

Jean wrapped his fingers around his hardened cock, and jerked himself a little bit while thinking of how he would lick and tease your little clit through this soft fabric. His tip started glistening with precum as the thought of you moaning in pleasure filled his mind. Your eyes would be looking into his, your long eyelashes blinking down at him, practically pleading him to pull the panties aside and lick your wet, creamy center.

"Holy shit" Jean whispered with a quiet, low groan and hesitated for a moment, before wrapping the pair of panties around his achingly hard cock. He had to gather all his strength to hold back his moans as he started to slide them up and down on his shaft. This is so wrong.

But he so desperately wanted to be inside of you.

He bit down on his lower lip, tightening your panties around the head of his cock. The precum leaking from the tip started to form a wet little patch on the fabric. The softness of it, your smell still lingering in his nose and overwhelming his senses, the image in his head of your legs spread wide open for him... It just felt so fucking good.

Jean started to let out a few quiet sighs as he let himself enjoy the thought of eating you out, then the whole of his body jerked in shock as a loud knock on the bathroom door stopped him in his tracks.

"Jean, what the hell are you doing? Quit admiring yourself in the mirror and get in the shower, we don't have all day" you yelled through the door. It took you multiple seconds to talk yourself out of peeping through the keyhole.

Jean quickly dropped the panties back into the laundry box and closed the lid. You heard the shower start running in no time, and you threw yourself on the bed again, as if burying your face in the pillows made all your dirty little thoughts of him go away. You imagined as water ran down on his skin, wetting his hair, dripping from his most sensitive parts...

"Holy fucking shit, I'm out of my mind" you murmured into the pillow, and cursed Sasha for leaving you to suffer in this situation.

And for being so right about you being into him.

In little less than ten minutes, the bathroom door swung open and with a cloud of hot steam around him, Jean appeared wearing the clean clothes you gave him. You sat up on your bed, and instantly bursted out laughing at the sight.

His own grey sweatpants obviously fit him right, but the large t-shirt you lended him was so tight around his chest and shoulders, it looked like it was moments from tearing apart. Not to mention the length of the shirt on his tall frame left the lower part of his stomach completely uncovered.

"I like your crop top, babygirl" you grinned looking up at his face, and Jean frowned, but you could see the glimpse of the smile he was holding back. You forced yourself to ignore the wetness you felt spreading in your panties as you looked at his happy trail peeking from under your shirt. The V-line formed by his hips lead your eyes right down to the crotch of his sweatpants, and you felt yourself blush again.

This was going to be a misery, that was for sure.

"Shut up, clean freak" Jean growled and occupied his well deserved place on the end of your bed.

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rishiguro · 1 year

Text

DESOLATION - S. RINTAROU

a/n: i’m projecting and got carried away

warnings: self-deprecating thoughts, self-loathing and slight allusions to passive suicidal ideation (just to be safe, i don’t know if that’s actually the case). 2.3k of hurt/comfort (though i feel like it’s mostly hurt)

slamming the door shut behind you, you let out a sigh, leaning your body against the wood. you closed your eyes, fists clenching on your sides.

nothing felt right anymore. the weeks passed by in an instant and yet every day seemed to be endless and monotonous. you woke up, did your work, came home and repeated that cycle the next day and the day after that.

you forgot how it was to wake up excited for the day and content with the path you were taking. how long has it been? now it was just a drag, a weight on your shoulders that kept pressing you down.

you couldn’t tell when or even how this started. everything was fine after all, wasn’t it? there was no trigger that caused all of this, no, and yet it would feel wrong to say that there was no reason in particular.

you just knew that you wanted it to be over.

taking your shoes off with a low hanging head, you sat down on the floor, trying to take deep breaths and calm yourself down.

it was okay, wasn’t it? you were finally home, you could recharge and just shut yourself off from the world. just let go of everything for a couple of hours before you would be thrown back into real life.

all you needed was a break.

“baby?” suna’s voice came from the living room, faint as it reached your ears. “you alright?”

you could hear his footsteps as he came closer to the hall, quickly jumping to your feet before he managed to poke his head out of the doorway.

you felt your chest getting warm as a smile plastered itself on your partner’s face as soon as he saw you.

you affirmed as you turned your back to him, slowly taking off your jacket and putting it away. you barely even paid attention to the questions he was asking you, simply answering them with only two to three words before diverting the attention back to him and asking him about his day.

suna didn’t have to be a genius to notice that something was off. you hadn’t seen how his smile was immediately wiped from his face as soon as you turned around after seeing him, shifting into a confused frown. he saw how you not just hung your jacket, but also opted to sort the hallway closet, acting like you were actually interested in the order of everything inside of it in a pathetic attempt to get him to go away.

but he wasn’t having any of it.

you didn’t notice how suna went quiet, studying your form and taking notice of your sluggish state.

he wasn’t an idiot. he had noticed how you got quieter with every passing day, losing more and more energy until you barely did anything outside of going to work. and he hated how you put on a smile whenever you thought he was looking, only to have it wiped away as soon as you turned around. and when he did approach you, you only shrugged him off, pinning your state on a stressful day at work or a bad night’s sleep.

“what’s wrong?” he finally asked, arms crossed and leaning against the doorframe.

“long day,” you only claimed “i’m gonna go wash up” immediately after you practically ran away, locking the bathroom door behind you and releasing your breath.

you thoughts raced as you washed your hands under the cold water. was it really fair to act this way? you practically dismissed your boyfriend, not even paying attention to anything he was saying just because you didn’t feel your best. and this wasn’t just a one time thing either, no, it happened countless times already, to the point of you not even remembering the last time you had an actual conversation with him that lasted longer than five minutes.

you were really terrible, huh?

you didn’t want to think like this, you knew that this spiral would just sent you down further with no way to escape. you could talk, communicate, somehow get your feelings across, apologize for being such a horrible partner, just anything. you just needed to get your mouth to open.

running the freezing water on your wrists to calm yourself you stared down at your bare skin.

you had to get out there and talk. you had to reach out. suna wasn’t going to turn you away or laugh at you, he’d be there for you just like he always was. he would probably scold you if he knew about the doubts you were having. scratch that, he most likely already knew, having spend so much time by your side, but decided to give you your space until you were ready to come to him, knowing how you could get when people pressured you.

he was so considerate. and you just stomped on that and tore him down.

you stood there for who knows how long, your wrists have gone numb from the water, when you finally decided to turn off the sink, drying your hands and wrists.

meanwhile suna sat on the couch in the living room, his leg bouncing as he stared on his phone, mind drifting back to you. you were so absent, so tired that it started to hurt him. you suffered on your own, shutting everyone out. maybe you didn’t even have the energy to reach out to him and here he sat, perfectly aware of your state of mind with no idea how to help or just make it a little bit easier on you.

his head shot up as he heard the door to the bathroom open, gaze softening as he saw you stepping out of it, feet dragging over the floor as you approached him.

the middle blocker didn’t take his eyes off of you for a second when you came to a halt in front of him, playing with your fingers in front of you.

you took a deep breath as you began to speak, head still hanging low, not wanting to look into his face. “please hug me,” you mumbled, already feeling how your throat closed in, “i really need a hug right now”

he didn’t even waste a second to get up and step closer to you, wrapping his arms around you and pushing you into his body. “always”

and so you stood there, suna holding you secure in his arms, the both of you having your eyes closed and taking in each other’s warmth.

“i’m sorry,” you finally broke, fist clenching the fabric of your boyfriend’s hand, “i’m being such a shitty partner right now and you don’t deserve this”

“it’s okay,” he replied, hands moving from the middle of your back to your waist, drawing small shapes.

you shook your head, still not daring to look at him. “no, it’s not,” you denied, “i have no reason to just waltz in here every day with my shitty mood and ruin your day because of whatever the hell is going on, that’s not fair. and to make it even worse, i’m not even talking to you about it, it’s just like i’m punishing you for something that isn’t even your fault” you rambled, only coming to a stop to take a breath. opening your eyes, you opted to stare at the fabric draped over his chest, face contorted into a pained expression. “i don’t even know what i’m doing anymore,” you whispered through your tight throat, feeling the first tears welling up in your eyes so you immediately shut them, not wanting to feel them pour over your cheeks.

“hey, take a deep breath, alright? we’re okay, i promise” suna was quick to reassure you, hands squeezing the sides of your waist in an attempt to comfort you. he would be lying if he said he wasn’t shocked. he never imagined you to feel so guilty for it, beating yourself up over the fact that you weren’t doing good mentally not for yourself but on his behalf. mentally he scoffed, cursing himself out for not realizing sooner just how long he let this drag along. but he knew that all he should do right now is be there for you and ease your mind, not potentially making everything worse for you. “and don’t you worry about ‘ruining my day’ or something like this, because you’re not, i don’t know who told you this”

he softly petted your head, mumbling some short phrases of affirmation with your arms still tight around him.

“i want to be better, i will be, i promise” your voice was all choked up, your eyes watering behind your eyelids. “i’m sorry i’m not good yet, i’m sorry”

“shhh” the young man shushed you, pressing you closer to him and softly swaying your bodies back and forth. “you’re good, you’re a good person”

you shook your head violently and even though your mind screamed at you to let him go and push him away, you only grabbed him tighter. “i’m not, i’m terrible, i’m horrible and nothing i do is changing that”

“that’s not true,” suna spoke softly, carefully, almost like you were about to run away. he didn’t force you to look at him, looking to the side himself as he spoke, but occasionally glancing at you, only to find you still staring at his shirt concentrated. “you’ve grown so much already and you’re such a good and kind person,” he claimed, a fond smile on his lips. you could hear that he truly believed what he said and while you didn’t exactly want to take his words to heart, you allowed yourself to succumb to them, heart warming at the thought of him genuinely thinking that you weren’t this horrible person you saw yourself as. “i know you can’t believe me, i know, but i promise it’s true”

after a few moments of silence he slightly pulled away to look at you again, one hand traveling to face, a thumb brushing over your wet cheek. “you trust me, right?” you nodded against him. your heart was beating rapidly, to the point of you being afraid that he could hear it.

your boyfriend smiled again, tilting your head upward. “good. then trust me with this too, okay?”

if he was shocked to see the tears running on your cheek quietly, he didn’t let you notice, instead wiping them away carefully.

“okay,” you whispered, “i’ll do my best”

suna smiled softly, kissing your forehead. “i know you will and you’ll do great”

“do you want to talk?” he asked after a couple minutes of you sobbing into him, but not before he couldn’t feel your body calming down in his arms.

you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, ashamed to face him with what you were about to say. you didn’t want to look at him, you didn’t want to see whatever expression he might have on his face. pity? sadness? or even anger?

“i don’t want to be strong anymore,” you finally confessed.

strong. suna always knew you were strong — a strong person, able to hold so much pain inside of them and not cracking underneath it all. willing to burden yourself with so much, all to see the people you cared for happy, content. strong and carrying so much weight on your shoulders and yet you never wanted to give any of it away, opting to just swallow it down and keep going.

until you couldn’t anymore.

“don’t be” and while others saying this may sound almost condescending, thinking that this was the simplest thing in the world, he somehow made these two words sound so understanding, letting you believe that maybe it was alright for you to want it. “it’s okay”

“i can’t anymore,” you continued, eyes clenched shut as more and more tears found their way out of your eyes, staining not just your cheeks, but also your lover’s shirt.

“i know”

“what can i do?” you asked him, fully knowing that he didn’t have an answer to this question. you felt bad for asking this, bad for dumping all of these thoughts on him, but you knew that he wouldn’t hold this against you. suna wasn’t a particularly complicated or deceiving person — quite the opposite. he was here with you because he cared. and he was willing to deal with whatever it was that was weighing you down. “i don’t want to feel like this”

you continued to sob into him, a warm hand finding it’s way onto your back and drawing circles on it to get you to breathe. “i don’t want to do this anymore”

“i don’t know what to do,” you continued helplessly, mind racing as you poured your entire heart out, “i just want to let go”

and suna pulled you close to him again, whispering softly. “i got you”

“i’m scared,” you admitted, “i’m so scared, rin”

scared of your feelings, scared of change and yet scared of everything remaining the same. scared of not doing well and scared of failing and at the same time scared of losing everything and everyone that was dear to you because you wouldn’t change.

“i know. i’m here,” he didn’t waste a second to reassure you again, desperate to help you understand that no matter what, he loved you and wanted to do everything for you. “i’m here, i promise”

“please help me” suna’s heart broke as you whimpered in his arms, so terrified and vulnerable, exposing just how lost you felt. “make this go away please”

“i got you” he felt his throat drying after he pressed yet another long kiss on your forehead, desperate to convey his deep feelings for you that he just couldn’t voice out loud. “i promise”

“you’re not alone”

reblog to get cuddles from suna

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amakumos · 1 year

Text

CUPID’S CONFLICT — eight ; i see what’s happening

as the man behind cupid's corner, jungwon is responsible for getting majority of the couples at decelis together (namely, riki and his girlfriend.) but there's one person that always gets in the way of half of the couples that jungwon sets up together — you. you are the polar opposite of yang jungwon, affectionately called "evil cupid" by your friends, as you have the unfortunate ability to break any couple up within a couple of weeks just by taking a picture with them. it's not intentional, you tell jungwon. what's also not intentional, is when jungwon finds himself crushing on you.

“Have fun on your date,” Rei says to you, watching as you shove your books into a tote bag. “I’m going to work on a project.”

“Project, date, same thing. Take lots of cute pictures of Maeumi for me. ” Wonyoung says, and you roll your eyes. “We're actually going to be working. It's not a date.”

“Don’t get distracted, by his… face?” Wonyoung replies, and you give her a weird look. “What? You guys would be cute together.”

Yes, he’s good looking, and basically your exact type, but you don’t really know Jungwon well. Plus, you’re pretty sure he isn’t really fond of you.

You take the train to Jungwon's, and it's not too far away from Decelis. You don't know why he doesn't choose to stay at home instead of the dorms since he doesn't live too far. When you stand in front of the lift, waiting for those elevator doors to open, you suddenly find yourself feeling a little nervous.

You press the button to the 9th floor, watching as the doors close. It's just a project. You're not nervous. The doors open, and you step out of the lift. Jungwon says he lives in apartment 9B, and as you approach the door, you hear the sound of a dog barking.

You assume that's Maeumi.

Jungwon opens the door, wearing a plain white t-shirt and sweatpants. "Hey," he says, opening the door wider to let you in. You take your shoes off, leaving them near the entrance. "Maeumi gets really excited when he meets new people." Jungwon adds as he watches Maeumi jumping up on your leg to greet you.

"Ah," you say, smiling. "That's very cute."

"Come in," he says, and you walk into his apartment, Maeumi trailing behind you. It's very clean, and Jungwon's placed his laptops and books on his dining table. "You can just put your bag on that chair," he says, sitting down at the table.

You slide into the seat next to him, taking your own laptop out. "So... where are your parents?"

"They're working. They're a bit busy this week, so I've kinda got a lot of time for myself."

"Oh, I see." you say. It's a little awkward, with it just being you and Jungwon. In his apartment.

"So... should we start working on this?" he asks, and you nod. He opens his laptop, creating a new slideshow and sharing it with you. "We've just got to create a presentation about this poem... and analyse it. Then share it with the class. Super simple,"

"I think we can finish it in 20 minutes. I mean, we did do a lot of preparation in class - we kinda just have to type everything out now."

You find that you work well with Jungwon. He's easy to share your ideas with, and even when you find that you can't exactly find the right words to use to get your points across, he understands what you mean. The nervousness you felt before fades away, and you start to think that you were just overthinking everything, especially when it came to you thinking that Jungwon hated you.

The project's finished in less than 20 minutes, much to your surprise. "Do you wanna grab lunch?" Jungwon asks you, and you shrug. "Sure. Are we going to go outside?"

Jungwon walks towards the window, pushing the curtain aside. "Ah, it's raining. I'll just order takeout. Are you okay with fried chicken?"

You nod. "I'm not a picky eater. Order whatever you like."

You get up from your chair, making your way over to Maeumi. You sit down on the floor, away from the carpet (because you've seen Jungwon's tweets about Maeumi shitting on the carpet), and the dog comes up to you, and you give him a head pat.

You play with Maeumi for a bit, picking him up and settling him in your lap while Jungwon orders the food. "He likes you," Jungwon says, placing his phone on the table.

"Does he?" you ask, ruffling Maeumi's fur.

"Yeah, he does. Give me a second, I'm just going to get Maeumi some treats." he says, before disappearing into the kitchen. He returns with a container of dog treats, and he sits down beside you.

Jungwon takes one of the treats out, feeding it to Maeumi. "He's so cute." you say, and Jungwon smiles.

Jungwon's opinion of you has changed very quickly over the past few days. He supposes that it was a shitty thing to do, to hate you over the fact that you had broken up a lot of couples at the school unintentionally. He guesses that he takes his role as Cupid a little too seriously.

You're very nice. So nice to the point that Jungwon feels terrible for being mean to you on his private Twitter account.

Suddenly, Jungwon hears the door unlock. He furrows his eyebrows - his parents aren't supposed to be at home until 9pm. It's only 3pm, and he doesn't think he's expecting anyone to swing by.

The voice of Kim Sunoo rings out, and the boy stops in his tracks when he sees that you're in Jungwon's house. "Jungwon, Riki wanted to know if you're free- oh! I see what's happening."

"Hi, (Name)." Sunoo says, a smirk on his lips. "Hi, Sunoo. Nice to see you," you reply, still giving Maeumi head pats.

"What are you doing here?" Jungwon asks. "Riki sent me to see if you were free, since I know the password to unlock your door. But, I'll just tell him that you're not available." Sunoo says, wiggling his eyebrows at Jungwon.

Sunoo's going to tell everyone in their friend group. And now everyone will think that you two are a thing.

"Have fun on your date," Sunoo whispers to Jungwon, who elbows him. "It's not a date." Jungwon whispers back.

"Sure it isn't. Bye (Name)! See you tomorrow!" Sunoo says, waving at you. You bid farewell to him too, and before he leaves, Sunoo whispers one thing to Jungwon.

"Don't fall in love."

"I won't," Jungwon replies.

Jungwon doesn't know it yet, but he is very, very wrong.

eight －i see what's happening! previous ☆ next ♡ masterlist

author's note. first written chap of the series !! my entire body hurts cuz of badminton #lovemysport

CUPID'S CONFLICT! a jungwon smau. genre: smau, crack, fluff pairing: non-idol! jungwon x non-idol! reader warnings: swearing, ignore timestamps taglist is CLOSED!

#kflixnet #k labels #enhanet #enhypen smau #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #jungwon smau #jungwon imagines #jungwon fluff #jungwon au #jungwon scenarios #jungwon x reader #jungwon angst

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vyl3tpwny · 8 months

Text

Music Genres

When I was kid, you would have probably heard me say something like “I don’t believe in genre labels”. To a degree, there is still something about that sentiment that I agree with; I don’t think you can really put music and styles of music in neat little boxes. But otherwise, I was pretty much wrong about everything else.

Let’s go over that.

pictured: Mala, one of the godfathers of roots Dubstep

—

To be blunt, “genre” isn’t just about approximating what a song sounds like. If you say “I love pop music”, that honestly doesn’t mean much. The more specific you get, the more you will approach something someone can imagine like “I like experimental progressive noise pop music”. Ok, I can start to imagine things that likely approach what you're talking about, but even then it will usually not help someone fully understand what something truly is. In categorizing and approximating music styles, genres only go so far. So what makes them important then?

Well, not to say that approximating a style when describing an artist to someone is a bad thing or that doing so isn’t meant to be valued, but it’s hardly the only reason these labels exist. Importantly, “genre” helps establish culture, history, and a musical identity. So when you're trying to tell someone you're listening to a "progressive rock” project, you’re not just imagining odd time-signatures and complex riffs, you’re also meant to understand and consider that whatever is being described as to you has some sort of relevance or importance with regards to the history behind progressive rock; the culture of college bands in the UK, the sound that the punk movement revolted against, the progression of musical storytelling in rock music since the late 60’s and early 70’s, stuff like that. There’s a distinct culture and history you can pinpoint and understand when you describe something as being progressive rock and you can’t just go around calling any complex electric guitar oriented music "progressive rock" unless it has those specific ties as well as understanding and iteration of the roots.

pictured: Genesis, because progressive rock mention

—

Genre labels help to clarify what kind of culture and histories a music project is being associated itself with and where a lot of its inspiration comes from. This is much more compelling reason for underlining the importance of genre labels and why they should be used correctly.

So, there is something I need to get off my chest then. There are a lot of misuses of genre labels all over the place, especially online. And I’m not talking about saying something is “Alternative Rock” when it’s clearly some kind of “Folk Rock” record instead. What I’m talking about is something like “Dubstep”.

Even as recent as a few years ago, I started personally reclaiming the term “Dubstep” as a genre label to describe any bass-adjacent music. At the time I did this, I thought it was cool, because the term Dubstep had been dubbed (pun intended) to be cringeworthy lexicon to some people. And while I feel that’s a noble reason to reclaim something like that, because some weirdos think it's cringe, in this case I actually think it’s wrong.

The term “Brostep” has been used to describe any non-roots bass-oriented music that originates from the proper roots Dubstep. It’s a term I didn’t like FOREVER, especially because the phrase was derived as a generalization of the kind of people who tend to listen to it. However, I actually think that Brostep is a title that people should be more comfortable and confident with labeling things as.

The original Dubstep came as a result of Jamaican immigrants bringing Dub music to the UK, which then fused with the remnants of 2-Step Garage which was prominent in the 90’s just years prior. Timbah.On.Toast made a great video called All My Homies Hate Skrillex and it is a really good breakdown of what separates roots Dubstep from the Americanized Brostep, which came after it. I think everyone knows by now that I have a deep, deep love for EDM based Broste and I am the biggest Skrillex fangirl alive. So being both a Brostep and Skrillex superfan, please understand that I think the video is one of the most important things you can watch as an EDM enjoyer.

Conflating the term Dubstep with things that aren’t actually Dubstep is honestly a slap in the face to all of the pioneers of Dub and Dubstep, which famously were both pretty much ENTIRELY invented by black people. I think it’s fair to say that incorrectly labeling music in this way has racist implications. It dishonours and twists the legacy of the music. You can find og Dubstep to listen to on the RYM Ultimate Box Set > Dubstep page. Check some of that out, then listen to some 2010, 2011 Skrillex and see how different things really went.

It confused me at first when I was a teenager, I didn't understand why so many people hated Skrillex back in the day. I came to realize so much of the hate wasn’t even really with regards music itself, but the total lack of understanding or care for the roots of the genre, which all of his work was founded upon and he then subsequently bastardized without caring at all. It was pure disrespect, it was practically cultural erasure and so many people will now only know of Dubstep as “that Skrillex transformer screech music”. Yeah. It actually fucking sucks.

But there is a LONG history of black music being erased from history and being undermined, whether entirely intentional or due to systemic unawareness.

I saw a post the other day talking about how it sucks that so much music is just lumped into being “video game music” when so much of this stuff has deep roots and cultural significance. The first example pointed how a lot of acid jazz music is just described as “Persona music” by the layperson now. Meanwhile, Acid Jazz as a genre is a huge development on things like roots jazz, disco, funk, and hip hop music. You know. All genres that were invented by black people. Fascinating, right?

Jungle music was also mentioned. And this one is very particular for me. Jungle music, when not being generalized as "PS1 Music", is often just called drum & bass or breakcore (also please Google the difference between breakbeat and breakcore, thanks) which are all fundamentally misunderstanding what Jungle music even is. Much of Jungle music, AS MANY THINGS DO, finds VERY prominent roots in Reggae, Dub, and sound system culture in Jamaica as well as countless other prominently black communities in the UK.

But it doesn’t stop there.

If you’re unfamiliar, there is a genre called “IDM”, otherwise known as Intelligent Dance Music. When I was a kid, and I first heard that word, I immediately was like “that is the most pretentious, stupid thing I’ve ever heard”. Eventually as I grew up, I just stopped thinking about that and started referring to more music as IDM. This style of music is generally characterized with “complexity” and being “not much danceable”. While I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the music that is called IDM, I do think there’s everything wrong with the term IDM, intelligent dance music.

When asked how he feels about being labeled as an IDM artist, Aphex Twin responded:

"I just think it's really funny to have terms like that. It's [basically] saying 'this is intelligent and everything else is STUPID.' It's really nasty to everyone else's music."

pictured: Aphex Twin, the funnyman himself

—

I think most people would agree with this sentiment. It’s so strange to call one kind of music “intelligent”, out of the hundreds of thousands of genres out there. But let’s bring this back to Jungle music. The reality is that IDM started to become a term around the same time that Jungle music became prominent, in the 90's. Both styles of music are complex, introspective, skittery, and chaotic (but refined and often disciplined) genres. Except, of these two, Jungle music was the one pioneered primarily by black artists. IDM was a sort in competition with Jungle. To therefore call IDM “intelligent” in comparison to Jungle music ... well. I don’t feel like I really have to explain why that’s fucked up.

A lot of people have proposed different names for IDM. A quick look on reddit yields things like “Experimental Electronic” and “Brain Dance” (which was coined by Aphex Twin's label). Me personally, the term “Electro-Prog” comes to mind. Sounds cool.

Similar conversations are presently being had about the term “Riddim”. This brings us back to the dubstep side of this discussion again. Riddim, as an EDM genre, is an offshoot of Brostep music that focuses a lot on repetition over the downbeat, maintaining an insanely distorted sound design, a lot more than the average Brostep song. However, the term “riddim” originates — yet again — from the Jamaican Patois for “rhythm”. And Riddim as a musical style in Jamaica is actually more associated with things like dancehall and reggae, rather than the commercialized "Riddim" that is several hundred times removed from its own roots.

Last year, musician INFEKT proposed that what most EDM listeners call “riddim” should be referred to instead as “Trench” in an article on their website. This proposed name is derived from Getter’s use of the term on his 2014 record “Trenchlords Vol. 1”. I don’t personally know how much I resonate with the term, but whatever the consensus is, I don’t think we should be conflating a westernized, commercialized, and EDM-centric genre like this to Jamaican roots music. Over and over again, it seems that black music is constantly overwritten by developments like this, so I think more care needs to be taken in not allowing that to happen.

As a side note, a lot of people online seem very keen on appropriating Jamaican Patois quite often? There are so many examples of this. When the term “Bomboclaat” started making the rounds on Twitter a few years ago, so many white people were quick to either talk wildly about the term and trend or otherwise start saying it as well. There was a fucking article that sought to answer “The Bomboclaat >> Meme << Meaning Explained”, like they’re not dissecting an element of Jamaican slang lol. Then there was a period of time where people were constantly saying things like “On Jah?” as a stand-in for “On God?” even though this, again, is Jamaican Patois. And even now, you have tons and tons of non-black people going everywhere being like “what is blud waffling about?”, the phrase “blud” ONCE AGAIN also being Jamaican in origin.

I shouldn’t even have to explain what makes these kinds of appropriations weird and messed up. But black people lose jobs and are denied basic things in life over their hair styles, their expressions and slang, and so many other things that a white person can just appropriate and face zero consequences whatsoever for.

That aside, aside. Understanding and labeling genres correctly is such a big part of music history and highlighting and preserving cultures worldwide. When efforts are made to undermine the meaning of a genre label or otherwise use it incorrectly, so much damage is done to the communities and people groups that innovate and pioneer this art to begin with.

For these reasons, I will gladly use the term Brostep. I will happily call things Electro-Prog. And when you talk about genres like Jungle and Dubstep, say it with your whole chest. Be proud of the human race, show respect and love for the people who have forged the greatest parts of music with their bare hands. We will always stand on the shoulders of giants as musicians, so instead of pretending you yourself are the giant, build monuments and maintain the history of these people. You as an artist are nothing without them.

pictured: Augustus Pablo, one of the most important innovators of Dub. Without him, and without many of his contemporaries, I would reckon that half or more of all modern music would simply not exist.

CONTENT WARNING FOR THIS FINAL SECTION, THERE ARE LIKE LOTS OF STRANGE SLURS AND RACIST VIBES.

—

One last thing I wanna mention, this is slightly tangential but I think it's relevant to this conversation. It's always weird how lots of websites categorize things like this:

From Big Fish Audio... "G**sy*? "World/Ethnic Loops & Samples"? What the fuck are you talking about. Seems like racism to me.

On Loopmasters they have a "World" section. Any Americanized genre gets its own category, but the entire continents of Africa and Asia as well as the country of India and region of the Middle East (which are part of Asia, hope this helps btw) and lastly South America are stuffed into the nebulous "World Label". Seems like racism to me. Are you telling me you weirdos can't figure out a better way to represent these things?

But then Psy Trance gets its whole entire own category? Aren't there only like five people who listen to Psy Trance? /hj . But like come on.

Shoutout to WA Productions for categorizing a universe of suspiciously mostly black music as """Urban"""". And this company is a dime a dozen, hundreds of corpos do this shit.

East fucking West, what is this dude. There is a racism happening, I just know it. Please give me a count of how many poc are on payroll at your company, I am so curious.

And while we're at it, East West, what is this. Tell me. Fucking tell me.

Thanks for reading.

#vyop

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stylespresleyhearted · 29 days

Note

what’s the secret project you posted 👀

oh gosh i keep meaning to answer this and then i keep forgetting or pushing it back for reasons unknown to me i think im just unaccustomed to having any asks lol but anyways this is something that actually started because of a certain thing me and marina yell about when it comes to austin and then as our love for callum grew it came to something else grand and beautiful. now it’s only something that has been discussed in the chat, it has no doc or nothing official to it, it may never even come to fruition (marina is already gifting us with so much goodness in the fic worlds she dabbles in)

but i will share some of it and feel free to come further talk about it if it interests you 😘

Warnings: nsfw below the cut, open relationship, threesome, guy x guy, guy x guy x girl

So we’re all aware of how Austin put his blood, sweat, tears, and soul into his Elvis role. This man gave it his all and I’m truly so grateful to him for it because in my opinion (and most importantly in Lisa Marie’s opinion) he did Elvis Presley justice.

• Bree is a famous and highly esteemed guitarist, singer, and lyricist. She’s won multiple Grammies and written for and with Lana Del Rey, Arctic Monkeys, etc., that’s more her vibe. Baz hires her on during the making of Elvis movie so she could help him modernize the soundtrack and help with the choosing of songs. Maybe she’s even there when Austin gathers all the people from the record label and has them ridicule Austin after his first run through.

• But she’s there before filming and she’s there during filming and her and Austin even shack up together for a while during the first COVID lockdown, spending time with him in his apartment and staying up at all hours of the night to help him get certain scenes right. The bed sheets are tangled, kisses are shared, breakfast is eaten in bed not in the kitchen and there are multiple walks on the beach taken together.

• Bree tries her best to be there for him through all of it. She can sense he’s about to sky rocket and rightfully so, she doesn’t think anyone around can currently measure for his talent. She tries to be a soundboard and a friend and a girlfriend of sorts and a co worker and he’s got her playing all these different roles to keep up with him but keep in mind he never asked her to do any of that. She’s doing it because she loves him, maybe she isn’t in love with him or if she is she isn’t aware of it yet but she does love and care for him.

• And he’s going through his shit. He isn’t sure where Austin begins and Elvis ends and he isn’t in the headspace for a relationship, especially with Bree who deserves the world so when he’s sick as a dog and bed ridden before heading to London he makes sure to have the conversation with her. They were never official. Never went public or had rumors swirl. It’s better to end it on a good note and leave it how it is.

• So consider his surprise when a few months into filming MOTA, Bree shows up on Callum’s arm being introduced as his girlfriend. It’s supposed to be a lads night and Barry dragged him out and now someone who he calls one of his closest friends is introducing Bree as his current girlfriend. A close friend who he goes on walks in the parks with, who places kisses on his cheek after a few drinks, who places his hand on the small of Austin’s back when he approaches him, who pinches his cheeks and welcomed him with open arms. Dating someone who was there at his worst and gave him her heart and stayed up entire nights talking him down when his anxiety was too high and made him do self care when he forgot he was supposed to be his own person.

• and see, Callum and Bree are both Brits so they run in semi same circles and they knew of each other and were friends but Callum was with Vanessa Kirby and they were in love and for a while Bree was with Alex Turner and them afterwards there was Austin. So Callum and Bree were already friends and when they run into each other at a record shop and then head to lunch after and maybe Callum gave her a kiss goodbye when they went separate ways - it all just grew from there.

• so maybe Austin feels a green jealous monster growing inside his chest but who he’s jealous of he’s unsure and a larger part of him is actually happy for both of them. They’re good people, they love each other and both deserve each other.

• they’re suddenly everywhere. She accompanies Callum on set and it’s clear to everyone how in love they are and one time when they’re filming the POW scenes and everyone’s on lunch Austin is looking for peace and quiet so he wanders into their “bunks” but there right in front of him - Callum holding Bree up against the wood panel walls, pounding into her as she moans his name so prettily, his sheepskin jacket still on and making him sweaty. Callum’s eyes open and he catches Austin walking, Austin who trips over his own feet to back away but Callum just smiles and winks at him.

• and later Callum approaches Austin with a high five and a cheeky, “see how good I was giving it to her, mate?”

• and fuck, Austin gets hard thinking about it. Gets hard thinking about Bree’s moans and Callum’s grunt and his sweat and her breasts bouncing against his chest.

• then filming wraps and Austin’s free of them. Doesn’t have to be in there presence every day anymore and he meets someone, a nepo baby who’s beautiful and kind and he’s in a place where he feels he can be with someone so he goes for it and he falls in love.

• and MOTA press isn’t until 2024 so it’s two years of only a handful of run ins with them but then press starts and news break: Callum and Bree are engaged. And the entire cast and crew are happy and they all celebrate.

• She didn’t join Elvis press because she was touring.

• so now Austin is around his engaged friends and he has mixed feelings regarding both of them. See he’s happy and he loves his girlfriend and his career is good but if he’s being honest something is missing and when he wants to torture himself he admits he knows exactly what it is. And he’s doing interviews and Bree is backstage and Callum’s always so touchy and so kind in his words in regard to Austin and one day Callum admits Bree told him what went down between Bree and Austin and Callum’s a confident guy, he assures Austin it’s all fine.

• But maybe it’s the first screening of MOTA, and Callum and Bree are tired of Austin’s sad puppy dog eyes every time they catch him watching them so Bree corners Austin backstage. Gets close and starts palming him through his pants, assuring him Callum wouldn’t mind, in fact Callum has been purposely teasing Austin during interviews trying to get him to cave.

• Callum and Bree both decided if they all wanted it how could it be wrong? Why not go for it?

• And Bree’s falling to her knees and taking Austin in her mouth, pretty pouty lips wrapped around him as she takes him all the way in and suddenly Callum is there, watching them, talking her through it.

• “Isn’t she phenomenal, mate? Had to work with her to get rid of that gag reflex and now she can deep throat me.”

• and Callum waits until Austin mewls his name and calls him over, begging him to be a part of this somehow, to please hold him. So Callum is joining them, Bree so pretty on her knees between them and Callum is flicking Austin’s nipple and letting Austin let his moans out in his neck.

That’s all we have more to come soon if ya’ll wish 🌚

• oh yeah there’s a scene where Bree holds Austin’s hand the first time Callum fucks him because she’s aware of the pain of how large Callum is.

@precious-little-scoundrel

#callum turner #austin butler #callum x austin #callum turner fanfiction #austin butler fanfiction #callum turner fanfic #austin butler fanfic #callum turner smut #austin butler smut #*made by me #return to sender 💌#blurbs #austin x callum #mota fanfic #callum turner x reader #austin butler x reader #callum turner x austin butler #illicit affairs 💫

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goldenfigtree · 8 months

Text

Noise Complaint

Summary: AU where Leon Kennedy's first day isn't being attacked by zombies but handling a noise complaint which leads to a... miscommunication on your part

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Fem Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: Okay this is Part 1 of a concept that I thought was pretty humorous. part two here! The Porch Swing.

Feel free to let me know what you think :)

The police car door shut abruptly from the force of Office Kennedy’s arm. Hands dropping to his side, he feels the ground pulse a rhythm beneath him. His eyes scanned the area before they planted on the view of a house, neon lights projecting out of it. He let out a sigh of agitation.

When he told the chief he was ready to go on patrol this wasn’t exactly what he meant. He figured he’d be doing what he signed up for in the first place. Helping people, not telling partygoers to keep their music down. It was definitely given to him because no one else wanted to do it. Give the rookie the dirty work while the other more experienced officers do the real work. That’s definitely what they did. But hey, he had to start somewhere. With a huff of encouragement to himself, he approaches the house, which is practically vibrating with party music and boisterous laughter, and knocks.

To no avail.

Tightening his lips, he knocks again.

Still nothing.

He holds up his fist to knock on the door one last time until the door suddenly swings open, revealing you. A red cup in your hand and the other hand gripping for dear life on the door knob as you hold your weight against the door.

“Heyyyy” you slur, a bubbly giggle trailing behind it. lowering his fist, he hesitantly greets you back,

“Uh.. hi. I’m here because we received a noise complaint for this locat—“

“Oohhh” you interrupt, “that’s right, the noise complaint” in a fit of giggles you smile at him mischievously. For what reason, Leon had no idea. But seeing that you were obviously drunk, he just figured you were just saying things, to say things,

“Right” he gingerly responds, narrowing his eyes at your demeanor, “I’m going to have to ask you to turn down the volume a bit”

“Uh huh” you say mindlessly before grabbing his wrist and pulling him into the chaotic environment,

“Leslie the stripper is here!”

“The what?!” Leon exclaims. However you don’t hear him over the loud music and drag him through the crowds of people, “I’m not a stripper!” He yells over the music

“Yeah I know you’re a stripper! You know you’re actually a half hour late!” You yell back,

“No, I said I’m not a—“

“Leslie! There you are!” Once you find a familiar face wearing a bridal sash, you come to a sudden halt, Leon bumping into you in the process with an annoyed groan, “the stripper is here!” You teasingly say in a sing-song voice.

While you were fully convinced that officer Kennedy was a stripper, her friend panically glanced between you and him, “um, that’s an actual cop” Leslie says sheepishly. You, still drunk and still brutally honest, turn your head to look at him. Your eyelids lower and lift as you shamelessly check him out,

“Are you sure? He’s too hot to be a cop” the sentence alone makes the hairs on his arms stand up and all the blood in his body rush to his face. With all the patience he has, he takes a deep inhale and leans forward to speak to Leslie,

“There’s been multiple noise complaints about this party so I suggest you put this party to rest or I will” Leon says loud enough for both you and Leslie to hear. Before you could protest, Leslie swings an arm around you and covers your mouth with her hand.

“We’ll close it down, sorry about the inconvenience” Leslie says apologetically while you try to wriggle free from her grasp. Begrudgingly, Leon moves his way through the crowd until he finally makes it to the door. Relieved to finally be out of the chaos he sits in his police car and leans his head against the headrest,

“One hell of a first day” he murmurs to himself.

—

The next morning was less chaotic than the booming music and the overwhelming smell of alcohol of the night prior. However, against his will, he was reminded of last night by his fellow police officers once he walked in, asking how the patrol went. Not wanting to be the laughing stock of the police station as a cherry on top, he failed to mention the part where you called him a stripper.

Yeah, he still hasn’t gotten over it.

After a bit of poking fun, he started his work day with paperwork. Although boring, he’d take filling out forms over being mistaken for stripper anyway. He hoped the mindless work would take his mind off of it. Yet, it only made him dwell even further. The thought of it made him aggressively swish and press his pen tip harder on the paper as he signed his signature in one designated box.

“Hey Rosa” His head snaps up at the sound of a familiar voice. He couldn’t forget that voice even if he tried. Turning he sees you conversing with the receptionist at the front desk,

“Hey how’s it going?” The receptionist greets

“The usual, just dropping off lunch for Will” you casually say, holding a paper bag in one hand and a pair of sunglasses in the other. Standing up from his desk, he readies himself to confront you once and for all. One foot after the other, he gets closer and closer to the front desk. However, you’re so enthralled in your conversation with the receptionist that you only look up when he clears his throat. You look at him and politely smile, in which Leon doesn’t return,

“Hi, I’m Officer Kennedy”

“New recruit? I don’t think I’ve seen you before” Your polite smile soon drops when you notice Leon giving you an incredulous look. All of a sudden, all the things he was going to say to tell you off fell back into his throat. His tongue felt like it was stuck to the top of his mouth, “Are you okay? You don’t look so good” you ask softly, your eyes filled with concern.

She doesn’t remember anything from last night? Of course she doesn’t remember she was drunk! What was I thinking?

His mind was spinning. Expecting a careless, bigmouthed partygoer, he is instead met with a nice girl with a pretty smile. How the hell was he going to get out of this without looking like a dumbfound idiot?

Clearing his throat he tries his best to calm his nerves, although it was a bit of a dumpster fire in his mind at the moment, “Do you… need something?” He musters to ask. Flashing a sweet smile again, you lift up the paper bag you were holding,

“My brother works here, just dropping off his lunch. He always forgets it”

“Ah.. well it was nice to meet you” Leon weakly greets with a shy grin backing away from the receptionist desk slowly to his own desk.

“You too, see you around”

And with that, he resumes his paperwork, his mind spinning like a tire rolling from its axel. Not sure what to think anymore when it came to you. Was he supposed to act like nothing happened? He didn’t know if he could. Subconsciously shaking his head free from his dwelling he decides that it’s a problem for another day.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy x reader #spotify #re2r leon #resident evil imagines #resident evil drabble

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moremaybank · 9 months

Text

THIS LOVE — j.m

pairing actor!jj maybank x actress!reader

chapter summary jj faces the possibility of his scandal going public. then, he ends up reconnecting with you after five years. what happens when the two of you end up as costars for your upcoming romantic comedy?

warnings mentions of a sex tape, mentions of domestic abuse (jj and luke), language, violence, sexual content/eventual smut, anxiety. ex best friends to lovers, fake dating. this will be updated as the story develops. [2.2k]

author's note just a little post of the first chapter to build the hype! hope you enjoy and decide to continue reading ♡︎ also special s/o to @mvybanks and @jjsbank444 for beta reading and quelling my nerves <3

recommended listening second chances by kiana ledé ft. 6lack

this love — the complete playlist ;; the masterlist ;; the tag list

❝ CHAPTER ONE ❞

Threesomes are fun. Foursomes, however, are a blast.

At least, JJ Maybank seems to think so.

“You have three different women threatening to release your sex tape. It’s not a good look for you, JJ.”

Well, he does when they don’t include a secretly-filmed sex tape and three fame-thirsty girls trying to ruin his career for a quick cash grab.

“It’s not like they’re three separate tapes. We were all together when it was made,” JJ smirks.

Josh, his manager, lets out an exasperated sigh. “That doesn’t make things any better, and it does nothing to help our circumstances. You need to clean up your act and you need to start doing it now, Maybank, or you’re going to lose everything.”

JJ rolls his eyes for what feels like the millionth time in the fifteen minutes that this meeting has been going on. It’s bullshit, really. He’s one of the hottest actors in Hollywood right now. He’s youthful, dashingly handsome, and loaded. The world is his freakin’ oyster, and he deserves to have some fun.

“You’re supposed to keep up your whole approachable, goofy, boy-next-door image intact, and having a ménage à…quatre, is not the way to do it.” my publicist, Andrea, chimes in. “If you aren’t careful, you’re going to lose your entire fanbase. You’re one of the most universally-liked celebrities in the business, right now. If this gets out, you’re going to have to kiss your crystal clear reputation goodbye.”

“So, let’s just pay ‘em the hush money. What do I care?” JJ says, taking his cap off and running a hand through his unruly strands.

“And you’re fine with forking over ten million dollars? Just like that?” Andrea scowls. “What if they take the money and still decide to release the tape? Or demand more?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, Andrea. Now, are we done here? I’m supposed to meet my co-star for my new movie in an hour and I’d really like to get in another — how did you put it? Ah, yes. Ménage á quatre — before I go.”

Josh runs a hand over his face, “Do you care about anything anymore?”

JJ ignores his statement, putting his hat back on and sitting up in his chair. “Can I leave?”

He can tell that Josh wants to scold him or make some witty remark in return, but he bites his tongue.

“Go. And, please, for the love of all things holy, do not screw this up.”

If JJ had a penny for every time he’s heard that, he’d be richer than Jeff fucking Bezos.

Y/N

“And last but not least, this is your dressing room. You’ll have your own trailer, but this is more for when we’re actually on set and in between takes.”

You grin as you look around the luxurious room. There’s a huge vanity in front of you, as well as some plush couches, and you don’t fail to notice the large mini-fridge in the corner of the room or the flat-screen TV plastered onto the wall. There’s a window as well, letting in the California sunshine you’ve come to love and appreciate beyond your beliefs.

“Wow, this is…amazing. I can’t thank you guys enough for this opportunity. I’m so grateful, I hope you know that.”

“Don’t be silly, Y/N. You’re the very reason we wanted to do this project in the first place. If anything, we’re the lucky ones,” Derek, the director states with a grin. “So, you ready to meet your co-star, or what?”

“Yeah! I mean, I’m nervous, but, beyond excited.”

Derek leads you back into the hallway, and you make your way to one of the offices.

“I think you’ll love him. Word is, he comes from the Outer Banks just like you. Who knows, you’ve probably met him in passing.”

Wait…what? He’s from OBX? No. No way. He couldn’t possibly mean—

“Y/N Y/L/N, meet the esteemed JJ Maybank,” Derek states, his proud smile growing sizeably larger than you thought possible.

It doesn’t matter how excited he is, though. All you can focus on is your heart beating out of your chest and the ringing in your ears. You see Derek’s lips moving but you can’t hear a thing. Your eyes are caught on the blonde in front of you, and all you can think about is how painful it is to look into those oceanic eyes after five years.

It’s equally as painful as it was the last time you saw him. If not, more.

“Uh— Y/N, I…it’s— it’s been a while,” JJ stutters out.

It’s all too much. Seeing him here, in front of you. His eyes locked on yours, his hand reaching out to touch you but retracting once he notices the fear in your gaze. Your eyes flit over to Derek, whose face has a more than confused look painted over his features.

“Excuse me, Derek, I— I need to get out of here.”

You speed into the restroom, locking the door behind you and setting your hands on the counter. Your chest tightens, and your breathing speeds up. She shudders, trying to shake it out as the room starts to feel like it’s closing in on you.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. You can do this. Don’t let him get to you,” you say, staring at yourself in the mirror. “It’s just…it’s just JJ.”

You feel the tears start to well in your eyes and you watch as they overtake their boundaries and roll down your flushed cheeks. You’re quick to wipe them away, though, refusing to admit defeat.

“Stop,” you tell yourself. “It’s been five years. You’re better than this.”

You aren’t sure if the words are true to your heart, because all you can think about is how the boy you loved from the ages seven to eighteen — the one who betrayed you and shattered you into a million pieces — is now your co-star for the romantic comedy you’ve just been cast in.

What could possibly go wrong?

A lot, you think. A lot could go wrong.

JJ watches as you make your way back into Derek’s office, shooting him a convincing smile.

“My apologies, Derek. Girl troubles,” you say.

JJ still knows you well enough to see that you’re hoping Derek will believe your bullshit excuse.

“Oh, uh, no worries at all, Y/N. I completely understand. I’ve got three daughters at home,” he speaks, trying to assure you that everything is fine. He places this hand on JJ’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. “JJ, here, was just telling me how the two of you have known each other since you were in elementary school. It must be quite the hell of a reunion, huh?”

You plaster a fake grin onto your lips, “One hell of a reunion, indeed.”

JJ refuses to look at you, his ex-best friend, and vice-versa. Truthfully, he’s terrified to catch your eye again. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to form a coherent sentence if he does.

“Well, I’ve got some stuff to take care of, so I’ll leave you two to catch up.”

Derek exits his office, and you and JJ are left in complete and utter silence.

God, JJ missed you so much. He’d seen you making headlines just as you always said you would, but he was always quick to click away, deciding not to dwell on everything he’d lost. But this, now, seeing you right in front of him as gorgeous as ever…it made the walls he’d worked so hard to put up begin to crack.

Then again, you’d always had that effect on him.

Even after all these years, he was still a complete wreck over you. You held his heart in the palm of your hand and he wasn’t even sure if you knew it.

Your scent was still etched into his mind, still buzzing deep within his senses and his memory. You smelled of the saltwater beaches of the Outer Banks. The notes of coconut from the shampoo he’d recognized still lingering in the tresses of your hair. The sweet hints of vanilla that clutched to your skin are prominent as ever. The combination sounds like a lot, and it was, but not in the overpowering way one would assume. They blended into one heavenly and unique fragrance.

She smelled like her, he thought. She smelled like home.

To be honest, JJ wasn’t sure whether or not this was a reminder he wanted to welcome with open arms, but either way, here it was. Here you were. After the way he’d hurt you and destroyed your relationship forever.

After he lost himself.

Funnily enough, you’d always had a way of popping up whenever he needed and longed for you. He never even had to speak a single word. You just always knew. And you might not have guessed it now, but he needed you more than he ever had before.

JJ scratches his brow with his index finger. “So, um…how have you been?”

“Don’t. Just…don’t.”

“Y/N, please,” he pleads. He almost wants to get down on his knees and beg. You can’t even look at him, and that hurts more than he could ever put into words.

“No. I don’t wanna hear it. I’m fine with being professional while we film this movie, but I’m not getting into this with you. I’m not getting into any of it.”

JJ remains silent, choosing to nod because he’s not totally sure he can find his voice.

As much as he hated to let the thought in, you were a walking reminder of every bad decision he’d made since he left the island and never looked back. He looked at you, and he saw two things. The first being the crinkling of your bright eyes when you smiled. The melodic laugh he could pull from your lips at a moment’s notice. Your hair blowing in the wind as you stuck your head out the window of John B’s Twinkie. And the second being the look of despise and pain on your face as you confronted him. The mascara-stained tears flowing down your heated cheeks. The way you walked away from him and deliberately chose not to look back and steal a second glance at him.

How was he expected to act all suave and cool when you were right there in front of him, actively choosing not to even look in his direction?

Truth is, he doesn’t think he can.

JJ glances at his phone once he leaves the production office still shaken by the day’s events.

2 Missed FaceTime Calls from John B

JJ swipes to the right and watches as his phone rings, awaiting his best friend’s answer while he plops down on the steps in front of the building. The line rings for a few moments before he hears shuffling through the speaker, followed by John B’s face appearing on his screen.

“Hey, man. how was your meeting? Your new costar as hot as we imagined?”

JJ tears his eyes away from the camera, his lip sinking between his teeth. His complexion pales, and John B picks up on it.

“Jeez. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Because I have,” JJ deadpans. He’s still reeling from your presence, and it shows.

“Huh?”

“It’s Y/N…my costar is Y/N.”

“Ooh, yikes,” John B responds. “Did she nut-punch you?”

“It’s not funny.”

JJ tugs his cap off as he always does when he’s stressed, and his fingers card through his hair. He tugs lightly at the strands as he tries to alleviate the tension building up in his head.

“She couldn’t even look at me, John B. Her eyes were on me for all of five seconds before she made an excuse to go to the bathroom. Then, when she came back, she looked at everything but me. She barely even let me speak to her.”

“Well, to be fair, you guys didn’t exactly leave things on the best of terms.”

“Yeah, JB. I know. Thanks for the reminder, as if I didn’t fucking know that already.”

“All right, look. Did you fuck up majorly? Yeah. But the love the two of you had…it ran deep. It doesn’t just disappear without a trace, especially if things are this heated after five years. I think you can get her to forgive you.”

JJ scoffs, “Yeah? And how do you suppose I do that?”

John B gives him a knowing look through the screen.

“You have to tell her the truth, JJ.”

“Funny.”

“J,” John B mildly scolds. “The reason she hates you right now is because you weren’t honest with her. The JJ she knew before that night never would’ve treated her the way you did. Buck up. Tell her.”

The call disconnects, and JJ is left staring at his screen with a tense jaw. He knew John B was right. He was always right. But how on earth was he expected to muster up the courage and tell you the truth about that night? He doubted — no. He knew it’d be impossible to convince you to hear him out.

Then again, he also knew he had to try. Because he couldn’t stand to be around you nearly every single day for the next few months, knowing that you wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire.

jj tag list: @pankowperfection @oncasette @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @maybank-archives @whoisdrewstarkey @aliyahsomerhalder @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @pankhoeforlife @cecesrings @wildflwrdarlin @loverofdrewstarkey @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @topper-thornton @em0-b0ysworld @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptherecs @bloody-mf-bsc @maybanksbabe @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @lvvrgrl @dancinglikeaballerina @somerandos-world @shahanaazsoumah @peachpitlover @pinkpantheris @julesmendoza890 @emmalandry @blueicequeen19 @madelynie

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watchmegetobsessed · 1 year

Text

❄️DEAR HARRY❄️

A/N: how crazy that we are on week 3 already?? i hope you guys are seriously getting into the holiday spirit!!

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

SUMMARY: You become penpals with a cute boy in middle school. You fall for him while he becomes an international rockstar, but will you ever actually meet him?

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

This fic is part of ❄️ FANFICmas 2022 ❄️ Read more about fanficmas here!

“Y/N! You got a letter!”

You have never sped down faster than at that moment. You’ve been anticipating that letter more than anything and quite frankly, you never thought receiving a letter would ever feel this exciting.

But it does. And it’s all because of a boy you have never even met.

“Gimme!” you exclaim as you run up to your mother, grabbing the letter from her before she could even hold it out for you and you are already on your way back to your room to read it and probably memorize every word of it.

Throwing yourself onto the bed you take a look at the handwriting on the envelope, your smile growing wider before you open it and pull out the paper.

Dear Y/N,

I have news for you! But I will only reveal them to you at the end of the letter. And don’t cheat! Don’t read ahead!

This week has been boring so far, we had a math quiz and I didn’t do too well, but it’s okay. If only you lived here, you could tutor me, but I’m left with my sister who is definitely not fit to be a teacher. She is so impatient and gets angry when I don’t understand something.

How did you do on your science project? I bet yours was the best and I’m convinced you’ll be a scientist one day. A scientist with a coffee shop. That’s an awesome pairing, don’t you think?

It’s been raining a lot here so I haven’t been out that much. Mum said it probably won’t change for a while.

And now the exciting news… Drumroll please! Are you ready?... I’m going to be on the X-Factor! Crazy, right? But I finally applied and I got a date for my first audition. It’s not the one you see on TV just yet, I only get there if I pass this first round, so wish me luck. Don’t worry, I won’t stop sending you letters even when I’m a big star. You’ll always be my favorite penpal!

I can’t wait to read your next letter!

Love, Harry

You read it over and over again until you can recite the whole thing almost word to word. Then you grab a paper and write your letter right away, putting it aside when it’s done so you can neatly fold Harry’s letter into the box that has all his previous ones. Eighty-seven, to be exact.

You’ve been penpals since last year. Your teachers were friends in college and they loved matching up their classes every year, turning them into penpals and making them send a few mails as a task so kids experience what it was like when there was no internet. You didn’t think much of the task and never expected to make a friend out of it.

But then you got paired with a boy named Harry, who lives in Holmes Chapel.

The first few letters were awkward and both of you just wanted the task to be over. But then you started sharing more and more with each other and kept up with the letters even when the task was over and they haven’t stopped, not even over a year later.

You have no idea what he looks or sounds like, you haven’t exchanged phone numbers, you both agreed you wouldn’t do that until your 100th letter, which is now approaching. Still, you feel like he is your best friend, better than the ones you see every day. And maybe it’s starting to feel more than a friendship, but can you fall for someone you have never even met?

You finish the drink in your hand, wait for the girl next to you to get to the end of the story she’s been telling your group. You came down to this little dorm party willing to socialize and make new friends, but you feel like a total outsider and you really don’t want to stay any longer. There are other things you’d rather do right now. Or at least one thing.

Trying your best to stay unnoticed, you slip out of the basement where the party is being held and head up to your room on the third floor. Your college experience hasn’t been like the ones you saw in movies, if you’re being honest, but you’re hoping it will get better in time.

The building feels empty outside of the basement, everyone is down there, having a blast while you can’t wait to return to your room. You’re roommate is either at the party too or maybe she is out with her friends, whichever it is, she’s not there when you get back to your room.

Throwing yourself down to the bed you grab your phone and type out a quick message to the only person you always want to talk to.

Y/N: What time is it where you are? Are you up?

You don’t expect him to answer right away, but his reply comes just moments after your message.

HARRY: Call?

You smile at how he ignored your questions and then start a call. He answers after the first ring.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at a party?” he asks instantly.

“I didn’t like it,” you shrug.

“You said that about the last three parties you went to. You’ll never meet people if you just sit around in your dorm room, Y/N.”

“Didn’t know I called my mother,” you mumble under your breath, which makes him laugh.

“Sorry… I’m just… worried. I want you to have fun.”

“Let’s talk about the fun you’re having. Tell me, where are you today?”

“New York. But I’m leaving tomorrow to LA. And don’t think you successfully changed the subject, we’ll get back to your social distancing.”

“LA, wow!” you pretend to be so into it, even though he’s been there a million times before. “Work stuff?”

“You could say that. There is this thing…”

You listen to him talk, he could be saying anything and you’d have him talk for hours, you wouldn’t get enough of his voice. After all, he’s a singer, it’s no surprise his voice is so soothing, though deep down you know you like it for a different reason.

It’s kind of ridiculous. You’re in love with a guy you’ve known since you were fourteen, but you’ve never met and in the meantime he also turned into an international rockstar, so the whole world knows him. It took the two of you almost two years to have your first phone call instead of sending letters. You still remember the first time you heard his voice over the phone, how he said your name and how you could barely get a word out at first. Now you text and call all the time though you’re still yet to meet.

You like to say it’s just how things turned out so far, that you could just never match a date to meet up, but in reality, you’re too scared to meet him, it would make it all too real and you fear he wouldn’t like you if you stood in front of him. So you remain in this bubble, where he is your friend far away who is also a celebrity. But to you, he’s just Harry, your old penpal.

“Promise me something, Y/N.” His tone turns serious and you bite your bottom lip before answering him.

“Okay.”

“Make at least one friend by the end of the semester.”

“Is that my homework?” you try to joke.

“I’m serious,” he breathes out. “I hate knowing that you’re there all alone.

“I do have friends. You’re my friend.”

“But I’m not there. You need someone to go to the library with, have lunch together and all that stuff. Please, promise me you’ll try, okay? Or I will have to take matters into my own hands.”

“Uh, what’s that supposed to mean?” you frown.

“I will fly over to you, no matter what and show up with you so people will want to get to know you.”

“Oh, so you’ll use your fame to get me friends who are only interested in you?” you laugh.

“Exactly, so you better get a friend yourself!”

“Okay, you got me. I will… try.”

“That’s good enough. I gotta go now. Talk to you later?”

“Sure. Call me whenever your schedule loosens up,” you tease him, hearing his laugh on the other end of the call.

“Will do.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Because I could come over, make a woodoo doll for Mark and poke the shit out of him.”

You chuckle at Hilde’s suggestion as you sink further into your couch.

“I’m sure. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“Okay, but I’m taking you out for lunch tomorrow. I’m not letting you lock yourself up in your cave just because a dumbass with a receding hairline dumped you.”

“God, Hilde, will you ever run out of the mean comments about him?” you laugh in disbelief. You knew she wasn’t too fond of him, but she’s been extremely, aggressively mean towards him since the two of you broke up two days ago. You can’t believe you thought her to be an angelic, shy girl when you met her in college. It must have been those Scandinavian features, her blonde hair and blue eyes tricked you for sure when you sat next to her at the cafeteria. Hilde is the friend you made because Harry forced you to meet someone and you hate to admit it, but your life wouldn’t be the same without her. She’s the only friend you made in college and luckily, she’s still in your life, three years after graduation.

“I have a whole notebook full of them,” she proudly says. “Alright, I have to go now, but call me if you feel like you want to cry after Mark. He doesn’t deserve your tears, so we have to prevent that.”

“I promise,” you smile softly.

“I’ll be at yours tomorrow at one. Bye!”

The smile fades from your face as soon as the call ends and you settle back into your loneliness. If anyone saw you, they would think it’s because of the breakup, but deep down you know it’s not the reason.

Yes, it’s shitty that you dated someone for almost an entire year and they dumped you over the phone, but that’s not what hurts the most. You’re alone. Well, Hilde is always there for you, but you can’t turn to the person who was your biggest support in the past decade. Your failed relationship is just a reminder that you will never have the same kind of feelings for anything like you had for Harry. No matter what went down with Mark, you always knew he wasn’t the one.

Because he wasn’t Harry.

Unlocking your phone you scroll down in the messages until you find the last one you sent to Harry. It’s been over a year and you still miss him.

There was no fight, no one hurt anyone, you just had a fall-out around the time he started dating some model. The messages came less and less often, he missed your phone calls and took a long time to respond whenever you sent him a picture of something you thought he would appreciate. His actions spoke loud and you didn’t want to be the annoying friend who doesn’t get a hint. He just started his solo career, things were going great for him, he didn’t have time to keep in touch with the penpal he had when he was a teenager.

So you stopped trying and eventually, everything stopped.

And you miss him probably too much, but you can’t help it. You keep catching yourself wondering if he thinks about you too, if he sees something and it reminds him of you, because it happens to you all the time.

You’ve wanted to text him a million times since the radio silence has started, but talked yourself down every time. He is a celebrity, he has way too many things to do than to catch up with you, that’s if he even answered your message. His number might not even be the same.

You regret never meeting him. Now you’ll never know what it feels like to hug him, to see him smile in real life, to smell his scent. He’ll remain just his letters you still have under your bed and the memories you have of your phone calls.

Seeking closure you grab a paper and pen and write one last letter to him.

Dear Harry…

You can’t mask your shock as you stare down at the letter you just took out of your mail box. You recognize the handwriting right away, but you never thought you’d ever see it again, not on an envelope at least.

It takes you several minutes to snap out of your initial shock and rush up to your apartment, holding the letter to your chest as if it was your most precious treasure and in the meanwhile you think back at the date you sent out that last letter to Harry.

It’s been six months.

It took him six months for him to reply to a letter you didn’t even think he would ever read. What happened? Did he only get it now? Or did he hesitate for this long before deciding to reply? You have so many questions and you might get a few answers from the letter.

You drop down to your couch and open the envelope with shaking hands, pulling the neatly folded paper out.

Dear Y/N…

“You look disgustingly happy, have I told you that?” Hilde comments and you roll your eyes at her.

“Yes. Like a million times before.”

“Okay, then I will just keep saying it.”

“I thought you’d be happy to see me like this, you’ve been nagging me about him for years!” you tell her off teasingly.

“I am happy! But I didn’t think you’d radiate like this! Though I should have expected, you are so hopelessly in love with that man,” she sighs. “I can’t believe it took you guys fourteen years to finally arrange a meeting, what the fuck?”

“It’s not that dramatic,” you tell her, finishing up putting the mugs away. It’s the 23rd of December, you’re just an hour away from closing up so it’s just two customers and Hilde left in the café. Soon everyone will be gone and Harry will arrive to meet you for the very first time in real life.

It’s been a long journey up to this point. After your farewell letter you didn’t think you’d ever talk to him, but then six months later you got another letter from him. Since then, you figured out what took so long. You sent the letter to his old address, but his mum has moved away for a while now. Luckily, the new owner was kind enough to track Anne down and give her the letter, but it took some time for that to happen. Then it took about two months for Anne to give it to Harry, she kept forgetting about it until he was finally home and she could just hand it over when she remembered she still had it. Then came some hesitation, but it was just a week before Harry decided to write to you.

And then you started talking again.

He apologized for being so distant, he said his then girlfriend didn’t appreciate the tight friendship he had with you and it didn’t take long to get back to where you were before the fall-out.

Now it’s been a year and the moment has finally come. It’s time to meet in person and you feel better about it than ever. Probably because the two of you have definitely passed being just friends.

The flirty texts started about a month after you reconnected and they’ve been building up ever since. All your doubts that Harry could never see you as more than just a friend has vanished and now you’re just patiently waiting for the big moment to happen.

“We can’t change what happened now,” you shrug.

“Yeah. Now he’ll have a great story to tell at talk shows about how he met his girlfriend!” she snorts out a laugh.

“I’m not his girlfriend!” you protest, but your heart skips a beat at the word.

“But you will be when you leave this place tonight, hopefully with him, heading up to your place to make up for all the sex you missed in the past decade.”

“Hilde!” you chuckle, throwing a rug at her.

Soon the café empties out, Hilde helps you closing and she heads out to give you some peace before Harry is set to arrive. As you’re left alone, you take a look around the place and you can’t help but feel content with your life.

You opened the café last year, an old dream of yours that’s now finally reality. It’s small and took almost all of your savings to start the business, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s decorated with Christmas lights and ornaments, one of your employees, Krissy did it, she’s obsessed with the holidays so you let her go all out. Now it looks like a tiny winter wonderland, setting the perfect mood for your first time meeting Harry.

You can’t help but feel nervous. What will he think of you? Will he think you’re just like on the photos he’s seen of you? Or are you different? Is he nervous too?

You arrange a little setup on one of the tables, some freshly baked cookies and two mugs of hot chocolate. Everything looks perfect and he could be here anytime.

A car pulls up in front of the building and your heart skips a beat when you see him get out of it with a bouquet of roses in his hands. He doesn’t notice you through the windows, so you can have a good look at him before he comes inside.

He seems to take a few moments to himself, checking his hair in the mirror before taking a deep breath and nodding to himself. Seeing him like this, nervous like you makes you smile.

Then he turns to face the café and he spots you through the glass of the door and your eyes meet for the first time. For a few seconds you just stare at each other, bask in the moment before you both break out in smiles and he walks inside, stopping by the door, a few feet away from you.

“Hi,” he breathes out and you swear his voice sounds a million times better than on the phone or any video you’ve seen of him.

“Hi,” you chuckle and your legs start moving before you could even think.

You throw yourself into his arms and he catches you with ease, holding you tight and suddenly, you know this is where you belong.

“God, it’s so good to hold you, Y/N,” he chuckles, burying his face into your neck. You want to say the same, but it’s so overwhelming that you can just laugh and hold him tighter.

You have no idea how long you stay like that, wrapped up in each other, hours could have passed by and you wouldn’t have noticed. All you feel and see is Harry.

“It’s really you,” he chuckles when you pull apart at last and he can take a better look at you.

“I should be saying that, I was the one talking to a celebrity! You could have been a catfish all along!” you laugh as you soak him in, standing in the middle of your tiny café. “Um, come sit. I made cookies and… hot chocolate.”

“And I brought you these,” he holds out the roses for you that you take with a lovesick smile, placing them onto the counter before the two of you settle at the table you set.

You sit and talk and talk for hours, tell each other everything you’ve written about and the things you didn’t. Words and stories flow so easily, it’s like you’ve spent every waking moment by each other this past fourteen years. You cherish how you’re able to touch his arm and hand and he barely looks away from you, as if the sight of you has put a spell on him.

“Oh wow, it’s past midnight,” you snap out of the bubble you’ve been sitting in, realizing just how late it has gotten.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome.” His eyes widen, but you just chuckle, shaking your head.

“You didn’t. It’s just that I have to be here by six thirty to open.”

“Oh shit, then… we should get going?” he suggests. “I can drive you home.”

“That would be great, thank you. Let me just bring these back to the kitchen,” you gesture at the empty mugs and plates.

“Let me help,” he offers, but you shake your head no.

“It’s alright, I can do it.”

You stack them all together and then bring them back, just tossing them into the sink. You’ll deal with them in the morning. When you walk out, you find Harry inspecting the place with a tiny smile.

“You really made this happen,” he says. “I remember when you wrote about wanting to start your own business when we were sixteen.”

“Well, it took me over a decade, but yeah,” you chuckle softly.

“I’m proud of you,” he says, his gaze meeting yours as he steps closer to you. “You’ve achieved so much. I just wish I could be next to you on the way.”

You catch a hint of disappointment flashing through his expression, but you don’t want him to blame himself. The fall-out might have been his fault mostly, but before that, it was you who avoided meeting him at any cost. Maybe things would have turned out different if you just met as soon as possible.

You’ll never know. But it’s alright, because you have a second chance now.

“You can be here from now on,” you quietly say and you can feel the atmosphere change in an instant. “If… If you want to,” you add.

Harry steps closer again until there are only inches parting you from him. He reaches up and cups your cheek in his hand, his eyes snapping down at your lips when they part.

“There’s nothing I would want more,” he replies, his lips pressing against yours finally.

Suddenly, you’re a curious teenager again, whose heart threatens to jump out of her chest seeing a new letter. The excitement of opening the envelope, reading his words and then writing back to him as soon as possible, it’s all here now that there’s no distance between the two of you.

You belonged to him even before you met and you belong to him now that he is closer to you than ever before.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#fanficmas #fanficmas 2022 #fanficmas2022 #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas 2022 #harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months

Note

AITA for assuming a fellow student used ChatGTP on one of our group projects?

i’m in my late 20s, and i decided to pursue a (post bachelor) degree where one of the required courses is also open to bachelor degree students. this is a class that is heavy on fieldwork, meaning we go into the field, and then go home and write a paper about it, and since this group is small enough, group reports are done with everyone collaborating, no sub groups. our first report was pretty much torpedoed by our professor, who took serious issue with how we didn’t call in ahead for some format changes, didn’t write the report in a way she liked, dismissed our photographs as unprofessional, and almost accused one of our members of committing plagiarism because for one section of the report, we were asked to do risk analysis. since we had never been taught an official way to do it, and the professor gave us an old report from a few years ago as a reference point, that member used it to base her own analysis and the professor went so ballistic, our member was almost in tears. so now you know that the professor is extremely sensitive about the topic of plagiarism. of which she considers chatgtp a part of.

now, the second time around i was in charge of managing the report, and i decided to make it absolutely perfect so we could minimize any friction with the professor. so, same as last time, the group distributed report sections amongst ourselves, and i would edit and coordinate so that the end result would be coherent and to our professor’s liking. and when it came time for me to start editing the document, i start with the introduction, which sounded very familiar in tone, and it read very nonsensically to me. almost like no one who was actually trying to convey an idea would write those sentences. when it dawned on me that possibly, the reason why the sentences sounded so nonsensical was because the writer could have used chatgtp, but that the tone and topics sounded straight up lifted from the introduction i wrote for our first group report, i was pretty damn mad, but i decided to take a diplomatic approach.

i contacted another group member who had formerly been a students association leader and asked her to mediate for me: had this student used chatgtp lifting from my introduction? his response was that no, he hadn’t, but that he had “taken inspiration” from my introduction to write his. hearing this was very aggravating, especially since the mediator a. disagreed that it sounded AI generated and b. said maybe i should be flattered because i’m just a really good writer. this despite the fact that the introductions for the two reports did not have anything to do with one another. they had different objectives and different skills to practice, so even if he had just “taken inspiration” from my introduction, he had written a terrible introduction that could barely be understood, paying no attention to what he was supposed to be writing. so at that point i just took over that section in the rewrite because i felt like i couldn’t trust him to actually put in any work and contribute.

later on in the editing process, i also caught some suspicious sentences in another section, written by someone else, that sounded like someone had copy pasted from another source. i didn’t think of this as an intentional attempt at plagiarism, more like whoever wrote it had pasted some reference sentences to write his own things rewording the core idea and then citing the sources. but i still took the time to message the guy and tell him maybe he should be more careful in case our professor got on our case over it and started yelling plagiarism about it. and his answer was to be offended that i would even accuse him of such a thing, and that maybe i should be careful about levying such serious accusations at people.

this guy had never been cold to me in my life. i think the other two must have talked about my chatgtp suspicions in some other group chat and now i was the bad guy for having even briefly suspected that something had been up. i decided to just concentrate in doing my job and ignore whatever shit these people had started about me behind my back, and what do you know, we get our report back with perfect marks. no thank yous. no word about it in the group chat where we organized. this despite the fact that when we handed in our first report, much appreciation was given to the girl that helped organize the report hand-in. hell, about half an hour before i handed in the report the girl i asked to be our mediator sent a meme saying “leaving before i end up looking like an idiot” before leaving the group chat which was. an insane thing to have to face in response to my working my ass off to make the report work.

if it were just the guy that i had accused of using chatgtp who turned on me that were acting like an asshole, i could take it, maybe that the mediator, but it’s ridiculous that we turned things around completely from the first report and no one’s mentioned the report since i handed it in. did they all just suddenly decide to enforce the silent treatment? did i not approach it in the right way? i said at multiple points that i wasn’t interested in bringing this up to our professor because as i mentioned earlier, she can be kind of a pain to deal with, especially where alleged plagiarism is being discussed.

for context: the group member who wrote the suspicious introduction had never been a very involved student in the class, which could be a constant bummer considering it was a very group oriented fieldwork class. he had previously mentioned he had no idea what to put in the introduction. i still don’t think i would have given a single thought about his previous track record in class if this incident hadn’t happened.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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ageofbajabule · 9 months

Text

Dawn of Love | Chapter 1

Josh Kiszka x F! Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Fluff, Anxiety talk?, (i don’t think i’m truly missing anything. if i am please let me aware!)

Series Masterpost

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Author’s Note: (18+ themes further on in the series) This series is going to be my baby, my pride and joy. I’ve been putting so much time and thought into this, and I truly do hope you all enjoy it and what I have planned. Please understand no themes relating to 18+ will take place until Josh and Reader are of consenting legal age in the series. Other than that, I do hope you enjoy this series.

October 2013

You had moved around different school districts thanks to your father being in the military… But this move was the final one. He had retired from the Air Force and decided to move to a small town. Known by the name Frankenmuth. It was a Bavarian town, everyone knew everyone and everyone was friendly.

Fitting in wasn’t typically hard, but being a new student in school also put you in the spotlight. You never really made the time to make actual friends considering the situation you grew up in being a military family. So this time around, you had to make the effort to find friends. All day you had the boring classes of general studies. But the class you couldn’t wait for was poetry - something about poetry just spoke to you, it always gave you the feeling of a welcoming home.

It wasn’t always just poetry that caught your eye, film and theatre also held a special place in your heart.

Something about the way Shakespeare wrote always called out to you - specifically Macbeth.

The bell rang indicating your Math class had finally ended. And your last class of the day was Poetry. Making your way there, you had entered the classroom. It was a smaller class, giving it an elective course. There was about 9 other people, you sat near the front of the classroom. The first bell had rang, the teacher waited for any last minute students. And sure enough a boy with shoulder length wavy hair cane sprinting in.

“Sorry! I got stuck in a little traffic jam there in the hallway.” The brunette boy laughed,

“Mr.Kiszka… This isn’t anything new. You need to do better on being on time.”

Mr.Zawalski motioned for him to join the class. He ended up sitting at the desk beside you.

“Last week we finished up our readings from Emily Dickinson, we will be starting with Edgar Allen Poe today. I’m sure most of you are well aware of his work, he had a very different approach than most poets.” Mr.Zawalski spoke as he started parading around the classroom. Everything about Poe, he wasn’t typically your style, but you had grown to like his work.

“He’s kind of a bore… I wish he was a bit more enthusiastic when teaching.”

The brunette boy had leaned over to whisper to you, chuckling as he saw you jump at the sound of his voice, making you giggle softly.

“He has a very monotone voice… Makes me want to fall asleep.” You shifted your body so more of you turned to face the stranger beside you.

“I’m sorry. Let me introduce myself, I’m Joshua Kiszka. But you can call me Josh. What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N, but you can call me Y/N.” You smiled at him softly.

“Well, it's a pleasure to meet you. Are you new here?” Then you heard Mr.Zawalski clear his throat, “Mr.Kiszka this isn’t time for mingling. Would you care to enlighten the classroom on what Poe’s poems were inspired by?”

Josh’s cheeks turned a shade of pink, then turned towards the teacher. “His own childhood trauma. At least that’s what most researchers have gathered.”

Seeming to be satisfied with Josh’s answer, Mr. Zawalski nodded and proceeded to carry on with his lecture - leading you and Josh to giggle quietly.

Before the end of class, Mr.Zawalski had announced there would be a project. And you had to pair up with somebody. Being you had been a new student and the only person you really clicked with was Josh, it was obvious who your partner would be.

“Well I guess we’ll be partners then?” He turned towards you,

“If you’re okay with that?” You smiled softly.

“Of course. Here is my number so we can start working on it.” He smiled taking your phone to type his credentials in, you sent him a text right away for him to save your information. “I’m free whenever. Except for this Wednesday night, I have theater tryouts.”

“I’ll be there too!” You smiled at him.

He chuckled softly, your smile turned wider. “Oh really? That’s great.”

You felt a blush creep onto your face.

“So what part are you trying for?” The bell then interrupted your conversation, “Guess you’ll have to find out at tryouts.” He smirked, getting up.

“That is a whole two days away!” You groaned getting up from your desk.

“I’ll tell you what, come over tonight so we can start working on this project. And maybe I’ll run a few lines to give you a hint at what part.” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Fine. You better stick to your word.” You giggled softly, walking towards your locker.

“You can come over around 5, join my family and I for dinner. My mom always makes enough to practically feed the neighborhood.” Josh spoke as he followed behind you, smiling from ear to ear as he spoke.

“Sure, as long as she doesn’t mind.” He shook his head, “She’ll be thrilled.” He smiled, then he was being pulled by a brunette guy who looked similar to him. But his hair was like a Justin Bieber style cut.

“Josh, we’re gonna be late for band practice.”

“Jeez, Jake I would’ve been right out!” Josh shouted, you looked between the two of them confused. “Sorry Y/N. This is my brother Jake.”

He smiled at you, “Twin brother actually.” Jake chimed in,

“But I’m older by 5 minutes!”

“Will you ever live that down?”

You giggled softly at them bickering. “It was great to meet you, but I don’t want to keep y’all from band practice. I didn’t know you were in the school band.” You smiled softly.

“No. Not a band for school, we have an actual band. We’re just getting started still…” Jake shook his head as he scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“Oh. I’m sorry… Well, have fun, and I’ll see you later.” You flashed a smile before leaving the two of them to go on with their business.

➳

You had luckily gotten your license recently before moving to Michigan and asked to use your mom’s car to drive over to Josh’s house to work on your project tonight.

The drive wasn’t too far from where you lived, in fact you only live a couple blocks from each other. You could’ve probably walked. When arriving you parked on the street out front of their house, making way to the front door. You knocked softly, hearing some yelling behind the door - a girl who looked close in age to you answered the door.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. Is Josh here? I’m here to work on a school project with him.” You spoke offering a small smile.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Veronica but I go by Ronnie. I’m his younger and only sister, he is actually finishing up practice with the guys. You can come in.” She motioned for you to come in.

“If you want, we can go out to the garage. That’s where they practice.”

You smiled, “Sure, why not.”

Ronnie nodded and took you out with her to the garage. As you walked in the guys were in the midst of a song, Josh was singing, Jake was playing guitar and there were two other boys. One looked similar to Jake, assuming it was another sibling of theirs. He was playing bass, and the other was playing drums. Ronnie and you had sat on the couch in front of them.

They sounded really good, for being so young. Josh had finally noticed you as a blush crept on his cheeks, he averted towards Jake as they finished up the song, and concluded their practice.

“That was better than the last run. We’ll resume back to this tomorrow.” Jake directed to them, “Sam, we got to tune that better. And Danny, we’ll have to try and rig the snare.”

They all nodded, making way to head into the house.

“I didn’t expect you to come out here.” Josh had chuckled softly.

“Ronnie asked if I wanted to. And figured why not.” You smiled softly, “So how many of you are there?” You whispered to him - in hopes that his siblings wouldn’t hear.

“There are four of us. Jake and I are the oldest, Ronnie is the middle and Sam is the youngest. And Danny, he's Sam’s best friend. But we consider him a brother, he’s been around for so long.” He smiled, a dimple peeking out.

“Dinner is probably ready, we should head in before my mother starts calling.” He chuckled softly, you followed behind him into the house. He led you to the dining room, it was big enough for everyone that was present. Once you stepped foot in, all eyes were on the two of you.

“Mom and Dad this is Y/N. She is new to our school, and my partner for our class project. But also a new friend.” He smiled at you.

“Oh it’s nice to meet you dear! It’s always great to meet one of Josh’s friends.” She beamed with excitement, “Please sit anywhere you’d like. I made grilled cheese and a family recipe of tomato soup.”

She motioned for you to sit. Josh pulled a chair out for you, that was next to Jake, and you sat down as Josh sat in the seat next to you.

➳

Everyone had eaten, and once your bellies were full to content. You and Josh had decided to head to his and Jake’s shared room to work on the project. Both sides were different from one another, Josh having anything film related where Jake had music related posters.

“Jake and I are forced to share a room, while Ronnie and Sam get the luxury of having their own rooms.” He chuckled softly motioning for you to sit on his bed as he sat on a chair from his desk.

“It’s okay, my sister and I were forced to share a room when we lived in Oregon.” You giggled softly remembering the tiny two bedroom house your parents had gotten when your father was stationed on a mission again.

“Oregon? How did you end up all the way here?” Josh chuckled softly.

“My dad was in the military. We moved around quite a lot.” You responded nonchalantly.

“Oh wow. So you’re settled here in Frankenmuth, Michigan?”

“It's a cute town.” You giggled softly.

“We’re really known for Christmas. Whole town goes overboard with all of it, really. But it is nice. I do enjoy Christmas here.” He rubbed his hands together.

“So where are you originally from?” He questioned you.

“Florida.” You said flatly.

Honestly, you didn’t miss it - especially given the fact you had lived close to Orlando for quite some time, you hated the tourists all year round for the 9 years you lived there.

“Sunshine state… Hm. I think I’ll nickname you Sunshine. How does that sound?” He chuckled softly, a blush crept on your face.

“Sure…”

“Now, what role are you trying for Mr.Kiszka?” You impersonated Mr.Kiwalski’s voice. Earning a chuckle from Josh he shook his towards you.

“Don’t laugh.” He chuckled, “But I’m going for Wonka.”

You smiled at him softly, “I think you’ll fit perfectly…you have the characteristics for it.” You giggled softly.

“And how about you?”

“Veruka.” You giggled, sitting up straight.

“Well I guess we’ll just wait and see.”

December 2013

Ever since that poetry class, you and Josh had been inseparable. You finished your project earning an easy A on it. And then got the roles you had both wanted for the Willy Wonka play. Josh had been working on a film script for the last couple weeks, having you help assist him with it.

“You know you are quite the genius Sunshine.” Josh smiled at you, you smiled back. “I’m just doing what I can! I told you I’ll help film, and help with costumes as well.”

You finished writing in your journal with all of the plans for Josh’s film that was coming up early next month.

“Do you think it’s silly?” He scratched the back of his head.

“No, not at all. I think it’s going to be brilliant. You have a very creative mind Josh. You need to stop doubting yourself.” You replied, shaking your head to give more reinforcement to your words.

“It’s just I care a lot about film, and this band stuff with Jake sometimes can be a lot…” He sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Josh… Jake has told you that he would help in any way.” You sat next to him.

“Yeah, but this is his dream… He’s always wanted to be a rockstar. And I want that for him. Me, I'm just a silly old film guy.” He chuckled as you nudged him softly.

“Aaand he would want the same for you. Don’t beat yourself up. This film is going to be amazing. Now come on, we have a Christmas party to attend.” You stood up, putting your hand out for him to join.

Once he took your hand in his, it felt like electricity had gone through you. During the short time you’ve known Josh. You’ve grown to like him more than just a friend…

He stood up from his bed, dropping your hand from his slowly.

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks Y/N…” He smiled softly.

“Of course Josh, that’s what friends are for.” You smiled mentally slapping yourself. You wish you could tell him how you felt. But you also didn’t want to freak him out.

The two of you made way to the basement where the party was being held, Jake smiled and walked over to you giving you a tight hug. With how close you got to Josh, you got close to his twin as well.

“About time you two showed up. Was starting to think you were sucking face.”

Josh gave him a glare as his cheeks turned to a crimson. You blushed, staring at your feet. “No, we were just working on the last touches of the film Jacob.”

“Sorry…” He gave Josh an apologetic look, they had some sort of twin telepathy way of communicating. You just went with the flow of it all. Josh ventured off to some other film friends that you would eventually join.

“Hey I really didn’t mean to embarrass you guys…” Jake had spoken to you quietly.

“It’s okay Jake, really…” You fiddled with your hands.

“No, no it's not… Has Josh said anything to you lately?” You gave him a questioning look.

“Said what?” You grabbed a can of pop.

“Forget it…” Jake went to turn, you grabbed his arm.

“Jacob.”

“You can’t say anything.” Jake mumbled as he turned to face you.

You gave him a look, “Cross my heart and hope to die.” You giggled doing the little promise. He pulled you aside.

“Josh really likes you… But he’s just too afraid to admit it.” He said quietly to you, only audible for you to understand. You felt butterflies in your stomach.

“R-really…” You looked up at him.

“Yeah. Why do you think he’s been up your ass so much lately.” He chuckled softly, “But you didn’t hear this from me.” He gave you a stern look.

“Jake, I won’t say a word. Besides… He hasn’t even made a move…” You looked over at Josh watching him talk with your other friends.

“Give it time… He doesn’t really know how to go about these things. He might need a little push, but. He’ll do it.” He patted your back softly.

“Thanks Jake…” You smiled and walked over to your friends and talked about the plans for the new year.

January 2014

“Josh, how the hell did you book a hotel room for the weekend for this film? Don’t we have to be at least 21 to book?” You shot a glare as you settled your bags into the room.

“Sunny, you underestimate my skills… Have I taught you nothing.” He sighs, acting like he’s been hurt. “Okay. Maybe I did, but just a tiny bit.”

You giggled softly setting up your equipment - while Jake came into the room with the rest of their friends.

“Okay, so I totally did not cause a scene in the lobby…” He said nervously.

“Jacob, I swear if we get kicked out of this damn hotel before we even shoot anything. I’m kicking your ass.”

“Some idiot tried fucking with our equipment, what else was I suppose to do.” He defended himself, causing the two of them to bicker.

“Alright! It just better not result in anything bad…”

The remainder of the evening you had set the room up for the liking of how you were filming this short film that Josh had in mind. Jake was one of the main roles, along with their friend Grace. Filming was going great, you had everything pretty much under control so Josh could focus on filming and getting the right angles while you adjusted lighting, make up and props.

After a couple hours of shooting Josh figured it was time to call it a night. You had helped clean up the room while Jake and Grace had finished up their last shots, and proceeded to help clean as well. Josh had already started editing the clips from tonight, and said that we would pick it back up tomorrow.

The twins ended up sharing a bed, while you and Grace had shared the other. It's not like you and Josh haven’t slept by one another before. You had passed out on the pull out sofa bed in their basement a few times when you’d stay over late working on a project. But Jake didn’t want to make Grace uncomfortable.

➳

The next day filming had picked up, but Jake was in a mood as he was tired of filming the same scene for the past hour.

“Well Jacob if you’d actually put effort into it. We wouldn’t have to keep shooting this take!” Josh threw his hands up in frustration.

“How about we take a lunch break!” You suggested taking your headphones off.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” Jake huffed grabbing his things, “You want to hit that Sub shop Grace?”

She nodded in agreement following Jake, leaving you and Josh to yourselves. Josh had put some things away grabbing a microwave.

“Joshua, what are you doing with the damn microwave?” You crossed your arms staring at him.

“I want to make stir fry. And I’m not trying to burn the room down, so to the hallway we go!” He made his way to the door, but he could open it considering his hands were full. So you opened the door, following behind him with your camera and other supplies.

Deciding to sprint to be in front of him, you took a picture of him with the microwave. “You’re something else Kiszka.” You giggled, getting to the end of the hallway. He plugged the microwave into the outlet, preparing the meal he had planned.

“Is this even going to be any good?” You gave him a concerning look.

“You have to live on the edge, a little mama.” He chuckled, mixing it together and placing it into the microwave, turning it on and setting it to whatever time and power he had it set as.

“Sir, what are you doing?” One of the maids had questioned him.

“Just making a five star meal. Care for some?” He smiled.

“You can’t do that out here. Why is it even out of the room?” She had questioned him, with her arms crossed.

“What do you mean? It was already out here.” He played a great character.

“Sir, I can assure you that is the room microwave you need to put it back in its rightful place. Or I will have to report you to the hotel staff.” She huffed watching him.

“It’s almost done cooking. It’ll be out of the way shortly.” Josh replied, smirking.

“I suggest you take it back now.” She then started to walk away to clean a room. Josh sat there letting it continue to cook.

“Josh, she seemed pretty serious.” You looked at him with worry.

“Sunshine, you need to liven it up!” He chuckled softly, as the microwave went off he unplugged it and walked back to the room with it.

“You Kiszka’s sure have a way…” You giggled softly, sitting on the bed.

“I can’t tell if that’s a good thing, or a bad thing.” He chuckled softly sitting beside you with his plate, taking a bite he spit it out quickly. “Oh that is mortifying.” He made a gagging face.

“Not so bright Joshy…” You giggled softly.

“Come on, let’s go get some real stir fry.” You patted his back, he nodded, throwing out his creation.

➳

The two of you found a local Japanese restaurant not too far from the hotel. Taking in on dining there, you let Jake and Grace know where the two of you went in case they came back earlier than you two.

“So, the Valentine’s dance is coming up.” Josh had said nervously.

“Yeah, have you asked any special girl?” You smiled softly, taking a sip of your water.

“No, not yet…” He put his head down, like he was ashamed.

“It’s okay Josh, you don’t have to show up with a date. You can just go with friends.” You smiled softly at him.

“Uh actually. Y/N, I was wondering if maybe you would be my date for the Valentine’s dance.” He looked up at you nervously with flushed cheeks.

“You want me to be your date?” You smiled as your cheeks became a tinted pink.

He nodded, smiling softly, “Yeah. I’d really like it if you would?”

“Yeah, I’ll be your date…” You trailed off with a smile, giving him a small reassuring nod.

He smiled, chuckling softly, “I thought I was gonna walk out of here like a sore loser if you said no.”

“I would never say no to you Josh…”

February 2014

It was Friday, school was a complete drag the past week. They had a spirit week in honor of the Valentine’s dance tonight. Ever since Josh had asked you to be his date, the two of you had been inseparable. You had been working on the last touches of the short film you worked on together. It was nearing completion but Josh decided that the two of you should take this week off from editing, since the dance was taking up a majority of the time.

You had joined the student council prior to Christmas break, and helped the council decorate and plan the dance. It was senior year after all, you had to make some memories while living the last of your childhood. Josh knew how much it meant to you to partake in this, since you were never able to do much like this before.

You had been getting ready at home, finishing the last touches of your hair and makeup. You kept your makeup rather simple, not doing too much of a glam look, and your hair had some loose curls.

You went to your closet pulling your dress off from the hanger, it was an indigo dress that rested against your knees and had some slight rhinestone embellishments on the edges of the dress. You slipped it on looking at yourself in the mirror, content with your look you put your heels on and grabbed your small satchel heading downstairs.

Josh was at the bottom of the stairs waiting for you with your parents and sister.

“You look absolutely stunning.” Your mom beamed.

“You look amazing, sweetie.” Your dad chimed in, agreeing with your mother.

Your sister smiled, clapping her hands together. She opted on staying home instead of going to the dance tonight. She was in the same grade as Sam and Danny and you have tried multiple times to get her to hang out with them.

“You look beautiful, Sunshine.” Josh came in front of you holding a beautiful white rose assortment corsage, with a boutineer to go with it.

You smiled softly in response.

“You look dashing.”

Your mom smiled coming over to aid the two of you with putting his boutineer on. Then Josh slipped your corsage onto your wrist.

“Okay! In front of the fireplace, we have to get pictures of you two.” Your mom beamed, as your father ushered you into the living room. Josh and yourself stood in front of the fireplace, as he placed his hand on the small of your back you felt butterflies in your stomach placing your arm around his back. You both posed and smiled for the millions of pictures your mother insisted on taking. Then took a couple with your parents.

“Guys it's not even prom, it's just a regular dance!” You giggled softly after taking enough pictures.

“Yes you’re right dear, but it’s your senior year!” Your mom beamed at you.

“We should really get going, otherwise we’ll be late…” You looked at the time.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’m late to a function!” Josh chuckled softly, you giggled in agreement.

“Yeah, but I think for once you should be on time.” You smirked and started to head to the door with him.

Before leaving your father gave Josh a whole spiel on his rules and when to have you home by. Typical dad move, but he just wanted to be in good hands.

“Dad, he’s a good guy. Besides I think Mrs.Kiszka would be on him if he didn’t abide by your rules.” You giggled softly as Josh nodded.

“Yeah, my mom would have my butt canned.”

The two of you then left your house, he opened the passenger side to his car letting you get in before he closed it getting to his side. Once you buckle your seatbelt he had gotten into the car buckling himself in the driving over.

After arriving, Josh had parked next to Jake’s car. Jake had gotten out and let his date out of the passenger side. He had asked Valerie to be his date, she was more than thrilled when he had asked her. Valerie was this sweet junior who was a part of the cheerleading squad and Jake was absolutely crushing on her.

“You guys look amazing!” You smiled at them, hugging Jake and then Val.

“You guys look great too!” Jake beamed.

“Well we should head in, it’s freezing out here.” Josh had motioned for everyone to make their way, as he kept his hand on the small of your back.

Once you entered the high school gymnasium there was a photo station off to the left, then a table for water and punch.

“Do you want some punch?” Josh looked over at you.

“Yeah, I’d like some.” You smiled.

“Grab a table and I’ll meet you there.” He wandered off to the refreshment table as you made way to a small table in the corner. Jake and Val had already ventured to the dance floor, making the most of their night.

Josh had returned with two cups of punch, setting yours down in front of you on the table, he smiled softly at you.

“My lady.” He chuckled softly, sliding into the chair beside you.

“Well thank you kind sir.” You giggled softly, taking a sip of the punch.

“You guys did really well with planning all of this.” He smiled, taking a sip of his punch.

“Thank you, I was nervous they weren’t going to like my ideas…” You slouched a bit - suddenly feeling a wave of nervousness hit you.

“Are you kidding! Sunny you are brilliant. Who wouldn’t like your ideas?” He smiled softly at you, you returned a smile as your cheeks flushed.

After conversing for a bit, the two of you decided to hit the dance floor joining Jake and Val. You guys had danced the night away, laughing and acting like complete idiots. But it’s all you ever wanted at this moment.

The DJ then turned things slow for a remainder of the evening starting off with All of Me by John Legend. Josh had you pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck. Smiling softly at him, you giggled to yourself softly.

“What is it, Sunshine?” He chuckled softly, catching your giggle.

“Nothing…” You blushed, placing your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat as the two of you swayed.

“Your heart is beating rather fast Josh…”

You giggled and turned to look up at him, he then moved his one hand to caress your face.

“Y/N…”

You looked at his face, he licked his lips nervously.

“Yeah Josh…”

He studied your face, before zoning in closer he then pressed his soft plush lips against yours.

‘Cause I give you all of me

And you give me all of you’

You were taken by surprise, but immediately kissed him back softly letting your lips move in sync. Soaking in this moment together. After a moment the two of you pulled away, smiling while giggling at each other.

“God, I’ve wanted to do that for so long…” He shook his head, sighing softly.

“I think you should do it again.” You smiled brightly at him - he then captured your lips once more with his, giving a few little pecks before detaching his lips from yours.

“Y/N… I. Well, what I’m trying to ask.”

“Yes, Josh. I’ll be your girlfriend.” You giggled softly, rubbing his arm to soothe his nerves.

to be continued

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