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worldsover · 3 years

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Synamphoteron

Part 1 of Till The Sun Come Up, a series by @themanthemyththeverite and @worldsover

Few people get paid to have sex, the rest have to pay, and everyone has nothing else to do. You’re the sole person who can say how humanity got here, but you can’t begin to explain how you got here.

The startled starborn suffuses through smog, creeps like ice up maple bark, syrup slow, clangs past glass, clatter, clunk, and before its destination, it dances in fear of its father fire—millions of miles away, sure, but for light, those millions become minutes, so the meandering amasses. Hysterical wavelengths between dying sun red and orange of autumns forgotten seep into the room; you’re uncertain whether they complement or clash the mercuries, the xenons, the heliums in the tubes that sigh neon cyan and purple. With one arm, you lean against the window as hot coals on photonic feet give your unclad skin an ever-fresh coat of paint. That window leads to a wall of glass, leads to a concave sheet, a dome of glass, then hexagonal panes of—would you look at that, another layer of glass. Tomato-tinged air trapped behind transparent lasagna.

First measured in nanometers, electromagnetic waves transmute into meter-long air oscillations as sound shares light’s prismatic temper. "You had to send that in the group chat." Your tone is kindred to the two girls’ demeanour: annoyed, testy, like the restive, red-biased hue.

Bora sits at the edge of the bed. Her eyes could blast lasers, cook lasagna to a crisp. Tap. Tap. Her feet are purposeful and slow—a bit faster, now the count is in beats per minute. Fifty, forty-five, a dreary Largo. The rhythms accompany an implied song, a dirge that should not have percussion, yet the floor is a drum to Bora regardless.

Minji kneels and crosses her arms. The submissive stance runs counter to her irked brows, pouty lips. Nipples light and half-stiff in spite (or maybe because) of the cooking pot pressure of the enclosed space. Neatly trimmed so that your focus is on the tummy above and the sinuous folds below. You’re in full male gaze now but think of it as inspecting for clientele feedback. That’s why you’re writing it down so precisely in your memories, laser engraving every subtle line of her tits, her lithe arms. For work. Definitely. Professionals look out for professionals.

Direct your attention back to Bora. That same experienced eye discerns the contrast in her curves to Minji’s. Filled further in both of her money-makers—ass and tits—yet they command a comparable cost. Different strokes. She has writing along her cleavage. Are those notes? Closer inspection (not too close, not right now) gives a glimpse of a few words: three, Amazon, harsher. Of course, the woman would write notes on her own body.

The earth spins too slowly, the sun’s scaffolding too sound; it hangs in the sky for uncountable time. You expect a retort by now. The air conditioning is at full blast, yet sweat drips down all three of you.

Bora almost falls off the bed, leans forward, and words fail when she tries to explain. The anger between the two girls only forces your erection to admit itself, and you want to exclaim that the whole situation is silly when everyone’s stripped down to the bare essentials.

“I—”

Just when Bora finally finds her message and parts her lips, Minji interrupts. "I was first! Open your phone right now.”

She isn’t wrong. However, Bora was much closer, already at the hotel restaurant when she called you up. Even the express tunnel took an hour or so for Minji to get here. No sense in arguing because it was all your fault regardless: you made the final mistake of giving both of them your room number after much dawdling. Hindsight tells you to have canceled with each of them, maybe postpone for tomorrow, but hindsight’s a dead concept in these times—at least, that’s your excuse.

“Oh, so it’s gonna be like that, huh?” Bora says to Minji.

You puff up your cheeks, storing air to blow out dramatically, exasperated. “Yeah, yeah, you’re all mad, look. Since we’re all naked and, as it seems, in the mood anyway, how about we compromise?”

The two of them glare at you for the disgusting profanity. The world’s a concession, so get over it, you wish you could say. Again, you keep quiet since you find no sense in starting further arguments.

“There’s no point hiding shit between us, is there?” Your eye contact with each of them is to search for approval. Both are empty with an emotion you can’t decipher. Increased anger? Understanding? Whatever. “Minji needs practice taking dick in her throat. Bora needs to practice taking dick in new ways. Ah, Amazon position," you say as your sight inevitably falls on Bora’s tits used as a canvas.

Their glares pierce the feeble filaments of your explanation.

"I-I, uhh, look. What? I’m sharing company secrets, not even secrets, really, to company employees. Who cares.”

Try not to fall—you’ve already tripped. The signals they send between each other are palpable. Smirks, slight nods. They see through your pretense.

Or at least they think they do. This is your most potent weapon. Give them a common foe, and they’ll come to that dirty word of compromise. No, Minji and Bora aren’t best friends, but they are the kind of friends who push each other. And sometimes those pushes are mean-spirited, a toe gets stubbed, some scrapes, but they’re always forward-facing shoves. Much better than your shared past.

They glance at each other, both skeptical but with fantastical sparks in their eyes, flashes of consideration dancing in their pupils. Even the hungriest of the pack would rather secure half a meal than risk no meal at all.

“Alright,” Bora mutters, the scowl on her face still prevalent but significantly less marked. “Are we sharing or not?”

“So impatient,” Minji retorts, her tone as sharp as ever. “But fine. I’ll pity you just this once. You need the practice anyway.”

Bora’s jaw sets into a tight line, taut and irritated, her mind eagerly snatching up ammunition for an equally petty reply. It’s one you won’t allow, not tonight, not on your terms. It’s an easy endeavor to shut her up: you kiss her, silence her lips, angrily tangle your tongues, and overall overpower her until she’s forced to back down with a whimper. Then, the tide of their aggression ebbs away, both of them taken aback, clear as the heat that singes the earth above you. Let go of Bora’s chin, shove her onto her back.

“That’s enough.” You growl, glaring at both of them. “Do you want this or not?”

A clear threat. It rings in their ears like an alarm bell, a homeostatic imbalance that screams negative feedback. Though they’re aware your need equals theirs, the risk of loss is simply too overpowering.

So they act fast.

Minji, still on her knees, crawls from the other end of the room. Her usual grace is gone. Instead, she’s on her knuckles, desperate to get a piece of you before Bora eats you up.

But it’s too late. Bora gets up from the mattress, grabs your shoulders, and pushes you onto the bed to replace herself. Your legs flop off the side, and any fight you have dies with Bora’s ass firmly planted on your thigh.

You gather yourself, trying to pay attention to both at once, turning your head to watch Minji; however, Bora’s body is too warm, too close for you to ignore, and the feverish heat within you shreds your patience. It’s a futile venture, and Bora knows it.

She smirks, trailing a finger down your chest before she slowly grinds her bare pussy on your leg, an indulgent moan escaping her lips.

“Fuck,” Bora murmurs. Her head is pitched back, her hair flowing down her back in a cascade of silky brown. Her eyes are shut while a smile paints her face. “The first bite is always the sweetest.”

The mesmerizing sound of Bora’s soft moans and the dripping of her arousal onto your skin monopolize your focus, erasing the other in the room from your vision. But then the silent prayer, the quiet, almost imperceptible hum from Minji’s throat, draws you out of your Bora-induced stupor.

The two contrast in approach and tact: Bora is forceful and blunt; Minji is calm and strategic. She begs and pleads, but not with her words. Instead, with fluttering eyes, Minji looks up at the foot of the bed, sees your own feet, and plants light pecks up your free leg. And the eye contact intent flummoxes you: she wants to be in charge but wants to cede it to you as soon as she gets that control. Whines and pouts, Minji puts her soul into wresting your attention towards her.

Competition taking over, Bora gives a light kick to Minji’s shoulder as she bears her weight down on your leg, humid and heavy, a comfortable balance to Minji’s tug on the opposite side.

“Mwah, mwah.” Minji makes a point of her having her kisses up your shaft be as loud and sloppy as possible, then stops beneath your cockhead, cooing happily while rubbing her lips. “Such a gorgeous dick. Mmwah.” A short peek of her tongue laps up the spit that her smooches drool. Finally, Minji grabs your cock, slaps it on her tongue, and makes the bubbles of saliva splash and dance with joy.

“Fuck,” you groan. “Fuck, that’s good.” It’s something straight out of your wildest dreams, the erotic sounds that ring in your ears, the familiar yet exquisite feeling of Minji’s lips wrapped so messily around your cock. “T-try to… ah… use your tongue more.”

There’s no response, nothing audible, but the juxtaposition of thick, honey-like warmth to the semi-cool air of the room on your shaft is enough to tell you she’s listening if only to hear your moans.

Tips, you think. I need to give Minji tips. But fuck is it hard to process, to get even a single coherent thought past your mental facilities. Minji is such a fast learner, and she grasps the concepts you throw at her so quickly that you suspect she was only pretending in her mediocrity, only toying with you.

“R-rhythm,” you choke out, words that fall from your lips as your brain grasps for straws. “Stay m-more… hah… consistent.”

The quirk of her eyes is quizzical, and Minji tilts her head despite its preoccupation with your stiff cock in her mouth. A muffled “hm?”

“It means you’re shit at giving head,” Bora snarks, picking up on her confusion. “You think roleplaying as a slobbering puppy counts as a blowjob?”

Minji ignores her, though if the tightening of her lips is any indication, she’s more riled up than she lets on.

Actions speak louder than words, and Minji testifies to that with her efforts redoubled, trying new things with her throat; she hums and moans, swishes her head from side to side, rolls her eyes up into her head all while she plunges your cock into the deepest depths of her warm, tight, wet mouth.

Your hands grip the base of her ponytail tightly. Her eyes water as they meet yours, dark and runny with mascara before you release her, though she obediently remains glued to your shaft, still spluttering and choking all over.

It’s a moment of bliss quickly disrupted, however; while you might be in heaven, Bora is unsatisfied with purgatory. Her frustrations pile up second by second until she’s at a breaking point, the rutting of her hips on your thigh no longer enough to placate her desire.

“When’s it gonna be my turn, hmm? You better not fucking cum yet,” she hisses.

Her words almost entirely fly past you, and it’s only when you notice how her nails dig into your skin lightly—when you notice how her breasts are so soft and fluffy on your chest, when you notice the growing pool of sticky fluid on your thigh—that you pay attention. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I promise I’ll—”

Hold it in. Hold it. Despite all your comments about Minji’s oral technique, stars start to fall; you’re unsure if they’re merely a construct of the wavering mind or actual meteors outside: both equally destructive and plausible.

“Minji, please. I need you to hold off a-and when I tell you to do something...”

Somehow, a smirk on Minji’s cock-busy lips until she finally releases your glistening length with a gasp and a moan. “Fuck, your cock is delicious,” she murmurs, her voice reverent and soft, sultry and alluring. “It feels so good choking on it.”

“Oh, please.” Bora scoffs. “That was hardly anything.”

Minji’s eyes narrow. “Don’t be jealous just because he wants me on his cock instead of you.”

“That’s only because you’re hogging him to yourself!”

“Excuses, excuses,” Minji laughs. “You just can’t take this dick like I can. It’s okay to admit that.”

A roll of Bora’s eyes. “God, you’re such a brat sometimes.”

Her stare is sharp, irritated, and narrowed while Minji’s gaze stays light, airy, and placid with lids wide open.

“What’s that mouth to these tits, huh?” Bora scoots up, fills your face so that you have no choice but to taste her pillowy flesh. She stirs on your leg. The folds of her slit, slick. “Or this pussy? Hmm?”

With locked knees, a hand behind Minji’s head, her arms around your waist, your length pushes past a series of subtle locks in her throat. A bit of drool like a canal.

“Dammit, I need this cock too. What a needy whore of a mommy,” Bora says as she looks at Minji teasing your shaft with puckered plosive lips, ppuh.

“You know, calling me names like that”—Minji drags her tongue up, slurps down—”is only gonna make me wetter.”

“Like I care,” she retorts. “Fucking slut.”

It’s a crown, a goddamn accolade to Minji as she ignores Bora’s heated glare, her mouth filled with stiff cockmeat. If anything, it only makes her more determined to suck the life out of you, and her cheeks hollow around your shaft, each lost layer of saliva replaced with two more until her face and hands are a mess of sticky globs of spit and ruined makeup.

“Good girl,” you huff out. Your hands stroke her hair kindly as she bears your length down her throat, holding herself there obediently despite the glk, glk, glk of her gag reflex’s protests. “Fuck, ah, mommy, that’s f-fucking perfect.”

“Take it,” Bora chimes in. “Take all of his fucking dick down your slutty throat, you whore.”

There’s no breath, no room, no sound Minji can possibly make to respond, so she settles for a weak gurgle when Bora grips her by the hair; she forcefully slams her face down into your stomach, a muffled cross between a shriek and a gasp silenced near-instantaneously.

The shock of it all would stun Minji, even if she had steadily become well-adjusted to your length. You don’t even have the breath to curse as Bora gives Minji’s helpless face a shove, then two, three, before she simply yanks Minji off of you. It’s a power vacuum that opens up, a new niche in your delicate ecosystem, and one that Bora occupies with a hunger, a drive to consume; she’s a whirlwind of biological instinct, bearing down on you and leaving a lustrous trail from your thighs past your crotch. What was already shiny with Minji’s saliva is now mixed with the varnish of Bora’s lips. Those folds entice you to assume responsibility, but you practice restraint; if you fucked your cock up into Bora without warning, there was no telling of the consequences. Hold in a bated breath, like you’re trying not to drown, which only unwinds when she weighs down on your stomach.

But one moment she’s the weight, then she’s suddenly the aggressor: beneath your legs, her arms hook so that your legs straddle her waist. She’s deceptively strong for her frame, and caution keeps your mouth shut; your confusion gives way to nonchalance. Did either of you really care all that much about the method as opposed to the means?

On the side of the bed, you notice the vexed furl of Minji’s brows, her hands through her hair, pulling on it in frustration: Minji wants to protest, wants to put up a fight, but any dispute, physical or argumentative, would be lost as she barely has a breath to catch and a gagged mess of spit and tears and sweat on her lips.

Not that you have much of a fight either, with Bora now firmly in control of your legs. She doesn’t need to say words; they’re written on her tits—Got three complaints. Need to be harsher. Amazon position. Lying on the mattress, your legs pulled up and your knees almost together, Bora squats above you. Her breasts squeeze between your calves in the air, and though you focus on the plentiful glossy flesh squishing words into scribbles—focus until dreams of that promised titjob overtake your thoughts—you can’t ignore how she bends your cock forward with her hands.

On your back, forced into docility, you’re unsure precisely what Bora was having trouble with, why she would need help at all. So instead of commenting, giving advice, breaking the scene, you play the part. “M-ma’am, are you going to put it in?”

Bora grunts, and the sound you let out at the sensation of her contrastingly delicate folds is higher, almost pathetic compared to her. “I’m not sure if you deserve it. Not giving your dick to me first.” Her free hand plays your nipples, one at a time, then trails up to your neck, sharp nails and all. Bora leaves a light red scratch mark on your jaw, which she holds crudely to make you look her straight in the eyes, not her tits. When she sees pre-cum drip from your slit, all because of a light graze, she slaps the sweat off your cheeks.

“I need it,” you whine out. “I need you so badly.”

A thumb on one cheek, the outer fingers on the other, both drive and grasp with an uncomfortable harshness that makes you drool. “Usually, begging like a little bitch works for you. Not sure what it is this time. Maybe it’s hearing this other slut whining so pathetically for your dick. Whatever. You’re my toy right now, understand? No sounds from you. Nod if you understand.”

No hesitation. Finally, Bora gives your strained cock its relief; ironic how relief comes in the form of pressure. With flexuous, loving force, she bears down and insists her warm flesh walls upon your shaft.

The mattress doesn’t feel as soft as it should. It could be from the intense gaze that tenses your whole body up as much as your cock, but it’s more likely the way her pussy throttles your shaft. An incomparable plushness. In and out. No consideration, no sacrifice for your comfort, Bora fucks herself onto your dick with the same care as a disposable dildo, and you, in the emasculating position, find your head emptier and emptier along for the ride. The characters on her Bora’s boobs bounce up and down, and you ascertain no meaning despite how hard you stare. And stare you do, immersed in the rhythmic waves of her body, her hips which slide so fluidly, her grasp on your cock, waning and waxing.

“Fuck, you’re doing such a good—” Spit gets in your mouth.

Bora looks mad, but you can’t tell; now there’s spit in your eyes. You’re unsure if you’re thankful that Bora is still riding or scared at what she might do next. The movement of her waist transitions from that self-serving swinging to a more aggressive hop, driving your back into the cushion.“What part of ’shut the fuck up’ did you not understand? Huh, toy?”

You hold back a deep groan that gurgles from your lungs by holding your own neck with your hands.

“That’s it. Know your place, whore.” Bora takes your wrists in her hands and pins you down tighter.

It’s not a unique experience to be on the receiving end of Bora’s fire and brimstone, but it’s certainly the first time you haven’t been allowed to retaliate in kind. Of course, she’s still an efficient, wild machine, her hips plump and forceful, solid and thick against your skin, but the enlightened weightlessness of your resignation heightens each ripple of her thighs as she crashes down onto you.

Words bubble up to your lips like steam from a geyser, but you choke them down; each time you want to flip her over and fuck her at your own pace, you have to swallow the urge. The suppression doesn’t help your endurance, strains your mental facilities until you’re sure your face is as red as a tomato.

At least you’re allowed to moan.

“Look at you.” She growls, her face inches from yours and equally flushed. “Look at you gasping, begging for this pussy. Do you regret choosing Minji first, hmm? Do you regret it now?”

Weakly, you struggle in her grasp, trying to pry your arms out of her pinioning hold, but it’s a fruitless effort. She smirks, though it’s evident in her hitched breaths that your cock is taking a toll on her as well.

“F-fuck, you’re lucky… your cock feels, haah, so good,” she pants out. If she’s tired, her arms aren’t showing it as you try once again to break out of this willing prison of restraint.

A moan draws you out of your tired battle, distant yet near; it’s a luscious set of thighs and calves that attract your eyes while another whimper escapes the lips of the one forgotten on the sidelines.

Bora simply laughs.

“What a slut.” Bora’s grin grows wider, though temporarily split by the spark jolted through her body by your cock. “A-ah, look at you.” She points at Minji, her legs spread wide, her fingers stuck up her glistening pussy. “Fucking slut, jerking off to this. You, haah, y-you wish you could fuck this cock like me.”

Minji’s too out of it to respond and instead rubs her clit to induce another bout of mindless mewls and whimpers. But why would she have words? She lost—end of story. And somehow, in that loss, she finds a perverse pleasure. Her eyes are cracked open; they watch Bora’s hips drive themselves down onto your cock, watch your eyes roll into your head while Bora simultaneously shatters both of your sanities.

“You want to sit on his dick, don’t you? You… a-ah, you want him… to f-fuck you like a little whore of a mommy, don’t you?”

“Mhm!” Minji whines through lips pursed too late.

“That’s right, hah. You fucking—You were always like… This dick.” The more it slides past Bora’s cunt lips, getting sorer and clingy, the more that heavy breaths take over Bora’s words until her speech is a sentence of gasps punctuated by groans. Bora’s back and forth swing slows down, her face less severe, and fingers don’t press so hard into your chest that you can feel the bones on your muscles. So she’s just as human as you are.

“Fuck, my mouth is so dry,” you say, your cock soaked silly with Bora’s juices.

“Me too.” When Bora sticks her tongue out, you take a nibble of it; close your eyes, but the wet kiss isn’t enough.

Minji gets up from her enraptured position and fetches a bottle of water from the hotel fridge—probably way too expensive for a bottle of water, considering they’ve got desalination down while sea levels are through the literal roof. In this respite moment, you take deliberate breaths as Bora’s grip on your shaft relaxes. That secretly jealous pussy even lets you go, but her fingers still curl around you to keep you hard.

“Thank fuck Yoohyeon doesn’t need practice too. My dick would really be exhausted.”

“Nah, she wouldn’t get jealous,” Bora says.

“You sure about that?” Minji asks.

“I didn’t mean exhaustion from jealousy.” You shake your head. “I meant the fact I only have one dick. Yeah, yeah, I know, get the extra implant. We’re not that far ahead that I trust mods wholly. We still live in fucking fish bowls."

"That’s fair. And I heard it’s kind of an overload having two dicks. That’s the most sensitive part. I can’t imagine multiplying that by two,” Minji says.

"Isn’t that what it’s like with you already?" Bora says. "Considering how sensitive those nipples are."

"I play it up a bit for the clients, you know." So she must want you to test that.

"Hmm." You motion to Minji. "Come here."

She’s obedient, though her demure bashfulness is an exciting ingredient added to the frothing mix, a tasteful respite in contrast to Bora’s all-encompassing control. Hands cup your face, soft and gentle; her kisses taste like home, an easy comfort to sink into, to lose yourself in. Yes, it’s messy and loud, wet and improvisatory. But mutualism, not parasitism, is the difference between Bora and Minji.

It’s by third-party intervention that you remember that respite is temporary, that breaks are short intermissions between hard labor, and by god, does Bora put you back to work. Somehow, you end up on the floor as she replaces Minji yet again, the firm muscle and sinew of her body displacing any semblance of fluffy sweetness.

And yet, the parasite returns. Though perhaps, if you really thought about it, wasn’t that you?

Minji whines and pouts from over the bed as Bora glares down at you, frustrated with your constant magnetism to Minji, irritated at your subconscious stubbornness in choice. Is it choice? Instinct? It doesn’t matter, you decide. Your cock is in Bora’s hands, after all.

Bora doesn’t even need to say a word, not with that scowl on her face, not with the way she effortlessly puts you on your back again, entwines your legs around her waist. Even the way she fucks herself onto you is evidence of her displeasure, harsh and angry, and all you can do is grunt, groan, try not to get overwhelmed by the tightness of her wet cocksleeve.

Your eyes close, flutter open and shut, over and over and over again. The world should not spin at this speed, yet it does as Bora clenches and clenches.

“F-fuck, fuck, haah,” you breathe out. Though your body stiffens in anticipation of Bora’s admonishment, it never comes. So you push the limits again. “Minji, come over h-here.”

“Stay focused on me,” Bora says, “or else.”

“Or else what?” You don’t say that convincingly enough.

Bora puts her fingers down your throat. “Going to turn you into a messy whore just like mommy over here if you keep getting distracted. But we might as well use our little fucktoy over her.”

Reluctant, Minji licks up her own juice from her hands, then slips close, crawls down from the bed, and leans to Bora’s pistoning body with wanton interest, the look of a pining lover. Their eyes meet. In defiance of animosity, the accursed word rings loud and true in their ears yet again.

Compromise.

When Bora finally releases, you gag out spit around Bora’s digits. “What… what do you want?” Minji asks, inches from her face.

“I think our boy over here wants a show. I’m not sure he deserves it, but I don’t care. I just wanna have some fun at this point. So while I fuck myself onto my dildo, I need you to give me a little extra pleasure, Minji.” At first, Minji doesn’t know where to start—neither does your mind when Bora slams her ass down, pussy a chokehold on your cock—but once Bora settles into a rhythm, the obedient woman lunges forward to make out with her.

She plays with Bora’s tits where her more modest ones still jiggle at the sympathetic force of Bora riding you wildly. The hard floor is naturally much less comfortable: your back needs to arch, and your head ends up knocking every time she weighs down on you, yet your cock only twitches more at how Bora delights in your difficulty. It twitches in the confines of her wetness, and it twitches at Minji’s renewed enthusiasm. Her hands play with Bora’s tits while she kisses the neck with hunger. Lips lower until Minji can taste the words on milky skin, licking like her tongue could clean the characters straight off.

The heat ramps, internal and external. Eventually, it’s too much, even for Bora, who gets off your dick for another breath. She drags herself up towards the bed and loses her dominant image for a second. Panting breaths from her lips. You can see the creamy glint of her pussy, the nearly frothy mess of white that lines your cock. It’s the prize for patience; it’s Van Gogh’s Starry Night (before they digitized it); it makes you want to ram your dick impatiently before she even gets up on the bed. Minji can sense your hunger, but more personal temptations have her eagerly touching herself on the side of the bed while you ready your cockhead to enter Bora once more for her doggystyle offer.

Push forward, Bora’s now slovenly slit swallowing your dick with ease. Minji’s eyes stray from Bora’s swinging tits as your pounding pace quickens, and her tongue unconsciously falls from her mouth. You mouth “come here,” and Minji squirms between Bora’s limbs without question. If only you had a mirror at the headrest to see her smirk now.

Though you’re standing behind Bora on her hands and knees, she is no less in charge. Another part of it is comparison’s sake—how quickly the other desperate woman lies underneath for a taste of your dick, even if it’d more likely be the taste of Bora’s fluids by now. Minji’s head hangs off the edge of the bed, her tongue out to tempt you. But the little whimpers and upside-down pouts can’t pull your cock away from Bora, can’t stop her from backing her ass up. Despite one hand on her thighs—the other is busy with a finger between Minji’s suckling lips—the speed and force at which those pussy lips engulf your entire self leave you helpless. Bora is the conductor of the complex symphonic rhythm. That one hand is as ice-still as the rest of you. She drives the weight of her thick ass and thighs into you, her pussy a jealous sheathe, squeezing your cock as though you might leave too long if it didn’t.

It’s a fair assumption. Minji pulls herself up, core workouts paying off, yet she only receives a few licks of your cock, too focused on matching Bora’s intensity. And it is your cock focused on the heat of it all, not you. Your mind is far beyond this melting, dying world, all because of the severe heaven Bora gives. All because of how she tightens her legs, sending pressure to your dick, and sucks up the fluids, the pre-cum for herself. The bed creaks, the bed shivers, and the variegated lights dance on her back to overwhelm your every sight and sound sensor.

Nerves mired in excitement, you’re a malfunctioning spaceship in dead orbit or empty vacuum; you are equivalent to the earth you made. (Why does the unsettling thought of the past always come up in these moments?) Minji, dick-starved, grabs your legs closer so that she can at least get your balls into her mouth. Swinging and active and tensing up, she has to give your testicles as much care as possible if she wants you to even have a chance of remembering her.

Bora looks back at you and clasps her fingers tight on Minji’s thighs, and she shudders, even giggles a bit. Then, while maintaining that relentless back and forth pace on your cock, Bora trails up to Minji’s crotch, and with no notice, thrusts fingers inside while she kneads the clit. “This is my dick,” Bora says, a slight frown that she can’t address Minji directly.

“Mmph! Aack.” A clump of gag-spit from Minji onto the floor. “F-fuck, you’re being so rough. You’re supposed to be training him, not… Nnf, not me. Can’t I at least taste some of him?”

“Girls, please—” Your speech staggers when Bora bucks her hips up in a way that stimulates your dick’s tip remarkably smoothly “—haah, fuck. When I fill up Bora’s pussy—”

She whips her head back. “Hey, who said I’m letting you—”

“You’re the one fucking your ass back into me like there’s no tomorrow.” To be fair…

“Ugh, fine. J-just, be a good fuck doll and tell me what you’re gonna do.”

“As I was saying, when I fill up Bora’s pussy, Minji,” you say, and she perks up, eyes big, “get a taste of my cum, eat Bora out like she’s eating you right now.”

You can’t imagine being in Minji’s place. There’s no such thing as exclusivity between the two of you, yet there once was. To be literally underneath the woman who made that relationship past tense must be conflicting: the very tongues and cock which betrayed her also prod her holes now. She must be even more conflicted than that, though—It’s not like she didn’t have her fair share of infidelity.

But while the emotions run high in an atmosphere that can’t support it, only the physical matters now. History fades much easier than hormones. The redder the sun, the sloppier each of you becomes. It’s less about control for Bora now, more about pleasure. Panting, sweating, messy wet pleasure. Sometimes there’s a break in your fucking rhythm to jab into Minji’s throat, and she welcomes the intrusion happily.

And so you repeat, pause, then resume this depraved continuity, a multi-faceted subject; the contrapuntal nature of Bora’s muffled moans and Minji’s frustrated whimpers are the voices that accompany your groans, the melodies that create this carnal fugue. Imbue it with passion, annoyance, joy, drama, and it’s everything any composer could ever have wanted; performers sweating, crying out their lines with the utmost honesty.

Bora’s lines are the least articulate, muffled by Minji’s dripping pussy stuffed in her face, almost as much as your cock is buried in Bora’s own warmth, though Minji’s free to sing and sing and sing, on and on as she hits every note perfectly. Pitch hardly seems to matter considering how effortlessly her voice slides across the register, up and down, alto to tenor to soprano.

You wait for it to come back down, to shimmer back down in waves of sound, but it doesn’t; her voice finally begins to waver and crack, her mouth hesitating around the edges of your shaft as her hands find purchase in the back of Bora’s thighs. Though you can’t see or feel the contractions of her core, can’t savor the wash of her juices that greet Bora’s lips like a geyser, you can still watch her body tremble, watch as her eyes roll up into her head while she mindlessly slobbers on your cock.

“S-shit,” Bora groans out, her tongue still licking and teasing away at Minji’s clit, ignoring her audible wails. “Pound me, a-ah...ah, haah, ah, fuck.”

There might even be a muted note of desperation in her voice, but you choose to ignore it and instead focus on her walls’ rhythm. It’s as though the symphony has gone mad and its conductor has fallen victim to crazed acceleration. Your cock isn’t in a position to complain, drenched in her folds yet still clenched down on tightly.

She must be tired; the locomotion of her body slows, though you make up the difference readily. Slam into her, a snap of the hips sharper than the sharpest staccato, and it’s the first time she lets out an audible shriek while her legs quiver.

“Oh, oh god, you better, ugh, haah, f-fuck me harder, you stupid toy.” The words contradict the complete lack of irritation.

But still, you play your part—can’t screw it up now. Your submission is practically muscle memory, a blur under the pressure, so you repeat the motif again, again, again, until Bora’s hips are hardly moving and she’s simply letting you rail her into the bed.

Even Minji, still twitching from Bora’s overstimulation, joins in, eagerly laps at Bora’s dripping cunt, an eye for an eye. Bora scrambles to stuff her face in a pillow, deaden the scream that escapes her lips as she climaxes on your cock with anything but poise and dignity.

Her quivers are like earthquakes, each pulse of her insides scrambling your own instrument, an overdose of rosin to your bow. The sound it produces is scratchy and rough, pulled from your throat unwillingly, an inevitable cadence that leads to the coda. The final chords strike in your stomach, ring out as your hips clash against Bora’s ass, once, twice, then nothing but stars as your climax arrives, nearly lost in the already frenzied chaos of bodies—the spike of excitement straight to your brain cannot be ignored. Pleasure wrought not only by the clamp that Bora has on your cock, but by the fullness of her ass that smacks back and the needy hands and lips of Minji underneath.

“Fuck.” The singular swear summarizes your myriad thoughts condensed into a burning gas ball of fusion. Your balls twitch.

For each ceaseless thrust, a shot in the dark. Cum fills Bora’s pussy more and more; her thirsty slit spills over, past the suction of your lips, creating its own lubrication to escape. Another rush to your head, and you hold onto her buttcheeks for dear life, spread them apart, let your cock pulsate to its heart’s content. Bora’s low, satisfied groans pale in comparison to Minji. Eaten out by Bora, given nothing but the residue semen your pistoning shaft impels out, it’s no wonder that Minji whimpers and mewls that audibly.

“Didn’t you have orders, Minji?”

Minji exits her trance with a wide-open mouth to catch the sticky stream that spills with every shove of your cock, but more and more of the milky load gets on her face—nothing wrong with that for you, but she cannot waste a single drop. So any last bit of reticence drops to the wayside as she exerts her abdominal strength to bring her mouth up to Bora’s pussy. It takes even more of Minji’s strength as Bora eats her out relentlessly, and it takes deft lips for Minji to catch your cum while your cock winds down its rampant ramming. Pulling out is a gradual process but one that Minji gives gratitude by kissing and licking your shaft on the way.

Bora’s knees and elbows slack, barely attempting not to crush Minji while the two of them lap each other up as though the competition never ended. An unfair confrontation since Minju gets the motivation to taste more of your seed. Having already had much fun with Bora’s pussy and Minji’s mouth, you join Bora at the head of the bed where a pile of pillows lies, where Minji’s legs quiver yet at Bora’s punishing fingering in addition to the lip service. Give Bora a kiss, give Minji’s pussy a kiss, and the slick and the drool would concoct a bar-worthy drink if Bora weren’t already enjoying her dessert for so long.

You’d think she would get tired at some point, but she only stops eating Minji out after Minji is done cleaning up the creampie flood. When Bora finally flops onto her back, lying next to Minji’s feet, you see Minji lean her head forward and show off her tongue—topped with cum one moment, gulp, perfectly clean the next.

Between you and Bora heaving and sighing, Minji sits up and looks at you two. “So.”

“So,” Bora replies.

They both look at you. “Fine, that wasn’t much of a training session at all.”

Minji giggles, crawling over you to sandwich you between her and Bora. Bora scoffs. You turn on your side towards her, but she turns too, facing away from you and towards the window. Then, when you flip to Minji, she has her frazzled hair in her hands and quickly falls asleep. Unsure, confused, you lie back and stare at the concrete ceiling, imagining stars.

Imagination manifests in more literal subliminal processes: Two simulations run on virtual memory, which temporarily overrides your consciousness and creates a split timeline at a turning juncture in the decision tree. After all the gratification, the first false reality seems too greedy because you cuddle with Minji for a smattering of praise and light kisses. Warmth falls like rain from her fingertips even as she takes you back inside her, and for a moment, there’s guilt and regret, the lamentation of the light you lost. It must be written in her eyes as well, a longing haze of slow-burning sex which clouds both of your judiciousness.

The second fabrication is bitter, angry, and purely lustful, your muscles coiled with frustration and annoyance. Why should Bora get to slap you around, tell you what you can and can’t do? After all, your desire is mutual. And so you push and push, seize your place back from her grasp. Your hands yank her by the hair and pin her down to the bed. She might scream, moan; you might join her in that, but what matters is the satisfaction at the end. That relief joins you in deep slumber on ruined sheets.

Inward. Downward. Your dreams lead you toward an unknown center, but there must be an endpoint. And therefore, your dreams slam you up into a lonely, wakeful truth in which no amount of glass outside can clarify the enigmatic machinations of Bora and Minji. The bed big enough for three is only filled with a single you. Frustration escapes you in one sigh; sleep reclaims you as your eyes close once again, as though the veil of darkness might hide you from the scorching brightness of the world outside.

The past has gone and slipped away; there is no future. So when will you have time to untangle this mess? Two falsities intertwine in a double helix—the snarl of memories gets worse—and though slow to boot up, your mind is ablaze once again: The startled starborn suffuses through smog...

#kpop smut #dreamcatcher smut #male reader #reader insert #worldsover #themanthemyththeverite #collab #tillthesuncomeup

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glossvante · 4 years

Text

Behind Closed Doors 01

Rated: M | 18+

Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre: High school/Step-Siblings, Explicit smut.

Word Count: 5.1k

Part: One | Two |

Warning: Step-siblings, Explicit & graphic sexual content, Alcohol consumption, Language

Summary: After moving to a new city, a rager of a party and an intense, all consuming, mindless fuck with a tall dark stranger seemed to be exactly what you were craving. A one night stand never hurt anyone, right? Until of course, that stranger turned out to be your new step brother.

Note: I’ve been looking for a new step-sibling Jungkook fic for a while and couldn’t find one so I decided to write it myself sdjkdjfjk. This chapter is more setting up the rest of the story but I hope you guys like it! Also, the other bts members make brief appearances as the story progresses, as well as a few blackpink girls. I’m newer to tumblr so if you like the fic please show some love & some feedback and I’ll upload part two soon. Love you guys and hope you enjoy ;).

Part One

You realized your room had turned into somewhat of a shit show while getting ready, as per usual. Nothing you couldn’t fix later though, you had enough on your mind right now. You were mildly panicked while getting dressed because you had to look at least somewhat attractive tonight. It was the first party you’d been invited since you moved here 3 weeks ago and you wanted to make a good impression. Moving away, changing high schools and leaving behind all your friends in the middle of the year wasn’t the most ideal situation for you, to say the least. You tried as long as you could to avoid accepting the reality of everything but the first day of school is when it really hit. Considering the fact that your last school wasn’t even half as big or well-funded as your new one, it was an adjustment figuring everything out. You were anxious about not knowing a single person the entire day until you met Lisa and Jennie in physics. The three of you guys sorta just clicked and became friends with ease. They showed you around and it relieved some of your social anxiety to know that there were at least a few cool people here.

Earlier in the day, Jennie texted you, inviting you to a party at her ex-boyfriends place. You hadn’t met him yet and were slightly confused as to why Jennie parties with her ex but she explained that her and Taehyung were cool with each other now. She also mentioned that pretty much everyone else in your senior class was going to be there too. Hence why you needed to look hot as fuck.

You studied your reflection in the mirror, deciding wether or not to change your outfit for the third time in the past 10 minutes. Yup, you needed to. You lifted the dress off of your body with a sigh and returned to your closet, hoping to find anything remotely cute at this point. Shortly after making another mess, you came across an old satin black dress. You picked it up and held it to your body, wondering if it would still fit, it had been a while since the last time you wore it. It couldn’t hurt to just try it on, you thought. You slipped the dress on over your head and adjusted it to your body before reaching towards the small of your back, praying to God it would zip up.

Finally, you were able to get it closed. You turned your body at all angles in the mirror to get an extensive view of your look. The dress had become a bit too form-fitting and an maybe an inch too short on you over time but you looked...good. Finally, you thought, you could work with this. You knew your mom would never let you get away with it though. To compromise, you decided to throw a sweatshirt on over the dress to cover up, at least until you left the house. You threw your lipgloss, phone, and all the necessities into your handbag and rushed downstairs to say goodbye to your mom.

You opened her rooms door and stuck your head in, shocked to see her getting ready to go out as well. “Where are you going?” You asked, confused. She didn’t mention she had any plans. “John invited me out. He said it’s a surprise.” She said excitedly, with half of her attention focused on styling her hair. “Again? The same guy?” You asked. After your parents divorced when you were young, your mom became somewhat of a serial dater. No one guy was ever right for her or stuck around long enough. If you were being honest, you stopped keeping track of your moms love life a while ago. “Yes the same guy.” She replied with a slight attitude. You were taken aback by that, this had to be the longest she’s been consistently seeing one guy. You knew she was glad you guys were able to find a house in the area, so she could see him more often but you didn’t think much of it at the time. Maybe she was finally starting to get serious with someone. You hadn’t met him yet but now, you were starting to get curious. “Alright, I’m gonna go but have fun on your date.” You replied getting ready to turn and leave. “Wait, you’re hanging out with Jennie tonight right? Tell her I say Hi.” She said. You almost forgot for a moment that you lied to her about the party. So what if she thinks you’re going to a girls night out with Jennie? You figured the less she knows, the less she’ll worry. And technically speaking, you weren’t really lying to your mom, you actually were going to hang out with her tonight. Or at least that’s what you told yourself. “Yeah, uh I will. See you later! Love you!” You said. “Okay bye, love you!” She replied as you left, shutting the door behind you.

You almost thought you had the wrong address when your gps began taking you up into the hills. Even though you were new to the area, you knew only rich people lived up here. Your jaw dropped when you finally pulled up to your destination, going back to your texts to make sure you put the right one in. It was a massive house, like some shit you’d see in a magazine or on TV. Jennie’s ex must be rich rich you thought to yourself. There were a bunch of cars parallel parked on the side of the street, so you pulled in and did the same. It really did seem like everyone was here. You quickly checked yourself in the car mirror, reapplying your lip and fixing your hair before heading inside. You could hear loud music pour out of the function as soon as you stepped out of your car, thankfully there weren’t many other houses nearby to complain about the noise. One of the many perks of living in luxury you supposed.

Your anxiety started to kick in as you headed in through the front door with a few strangers, losing them in the crowd as you entered. Woah. You definitely didn’t go to parties like this at your old school. Red neon lights saturated the air in every room, a dense cloud of smoke lingered above the crowd and the music followed you wherever you went. You tried to take it all in as made your way through the crowd hoping to find a single recognizable face. You walked through the living room and entered the kitchen, shocked by how many bottles of alcohol were just laying around, expensive ones too. You poured yourself a diluted mixed drink in attempt to calm your nerves.

“Y/N!!!!!” You heard you’re name in a high pitched scream from behind you. It was Jennie, she jumped up and gave you a hug from behind. “I was looking for you! God you scared me.” You admitted with a laugh. “Oops sorryyy.” She apologized, she was entirely too giggly and spoke with a slur. You could tell she was a few drinks ahead of you. “You look so hot tonight what the fuck?” She exclaimed, a too little loud. “Thanks.” You said with a smile, flattered by the compliment. “What are you doing?” She asked looking down at your cup. “You need a shot! Not whatever this is. Do one with me!” She pleaded, you considered it for a moment. “I don’t know, I don’t wanna get too drunk.” You explained. She rolled her eyes at that. “Okay bitch, first of all why not, and second of all come on! A couple shots never hurt anyone.” You saw the look on her face, Jennie could be pretty convincing when she wanted to be. Fuck it right? After all, you were at a party. “Okay fineee.” You agreed reluctantly. She was ecstatic at your response, immediately reaching for a dark liquor and pouring both of you a shot. You clinked glasses before taking them down, feeling an immediate bitterness in your mouth and a warmth in your chest. “That tastes like shit.” You told her, wiping a drop from your lips. She laughed at that. “Trust me you can’t even feel it after a few.” She poured another shot for you and herself. You both braced yourselves and took it back. She lied, the second one definitely tasted worse. You cringed from the taste. “The faces you make are too funny.” Jennie teased while laughing. She reached for the bottle one more time and started to pour another round. “Are you trying to get me drunk? Cus if you want me or something just say that.” You said, trying to holding back your laughter. She shoved you in response, only mildly amused by your words. “I hate you.” She handed you the last shot and you both took it down.

No Idea by Don Toliver began playing loudly from the speakers and Jennie screamed in response. “Ah! I love this song! Dance with me?”Jennie asked, extending her hand to you. You rolled your eyes before taking it, allowing her to drag you to the living room. You weren’t exactly a talented dancer, like Jennie, so usually you’d feel a bit awkward while dancing but that wasn’t the case tonight. Maybe it was just because the crowd was so live or the music was thumping or those shots you just took, but you were feeling right. Jennie put her hands on your waist and pulled you closer to her, guiding you into the rythym. You both moved as if your bodies had synced with the music, dancing all over each other. For a moment it felt like you and everyone else in the room were on the same wavelength. While dancing, you locked eyes with a guy leaning against a the wall, a distance away from you. His eyes were dark and peircing, shaded by long locks of his jet black hair. He took a sip of his drink and a slight smirk crept onto his face as he realized he’d caught your attention, as if he’d had his eyes on you for a while. You kept your focus him on while you were dancing, observing him as he gave you a long look from your head to your toes.

In the midst of the moment, the two of you were interrupted by Jennie. “There’s no fucking way.” She said, shocked. You quickly turned your attention to her, wondering what she was talking about. Her smiled had faded and her body stilled as she looked at something in the crowd. As if she had seen something she wished she didn’t. “Jennie.” You said concerned. You tried to follow her line of sight to see what was going on, scanning the room. “What’s wrong?” You asked loudly, leaning into her. “Fucking Taehyung.” She gestured towards a far corner. You turned to look, only to see a guy you assumed to be Taehyung with his tongue halfway down some girls throat and his eyes on Jennie. He winked at her, like he was glad that she had seen. Gross. You couldn’t help but feel shitty for her. Guess everything with them wasn’t cool after all.

“I’m sorry. Fuck him.” You said loudly, trying to console her over the sound of the music. You could see she was hurt but she hid it behind a wall of anger. “Two can play at that game you know.” She replied calmly. “I invented that game.” You hadn’t really seen her like this before, she was lethal and you could feel it. She pulled away from you. “I’ll be back.” She shouted. “Wait what? where are you going?” You asked, worried about her. “I’m fine I just have to do something. I’ll find you later okay? Sorry!” She said, before walking away, leaving you in the middle of the crowd. You didn’t fully believe her when she said she was fine but if she wanted some time alone, you were gonna let her have it. It didn’t stop you from worrying though.

You sighed before shuffling your way out of the living room and to a quieter spot against the wall. You pulled out your phone to check it. You sent a few snaps to some old friends and a text to update your mom so she wouldn’t worry. After that, you headed back into the kitchen in search of something to drink that wasn’t hard liquor. All that dancing made you thirsty. You opened the fridge, allowing the light from inside to pour out, mixing with the neon red tint already in the air. You bent over to look inside for a water bottle, juice, or even a godamn soda. After shuffling some things around, you came up dry. All you could find was extra beer. Did these people only drink alcohol? You shut the door of the fridge in disappointment and turned to walk away, only to be stopped by the view in front of you. The same eyes you spotted from a distance earlier were now right in front of you. You studied all of him for a moment, just now being able to get real look at him. He was leaned against the kitchen island coolly, looking right at you. It wasn’t hard to figure out that he was attractive, in pretty much every single physical way there was. You found yourself admiring his style and shiny silver rings over his black ink tattoos. You nearly let yourself get lost in his picture before the thought occurred to you. How long had he been standing there? You immediately felt timid, realizing that if he was there for long enough, he for sure had a perfect view of your ass while you were bending over in the fridge. Now was probably a good time for you to stop starting at him say something, like anything.

“Hi.” You said, regretting it immediately. Hi? Really? In your defense, it was all you could get out in front of his naturally intimidating presence. At least you broke the silence, you thought. “Hi.” He responded with a soft smile on his face. “How come I haven’t seen you around here before?” He inquired, taking a sip from his red solo cup. “I uh.. I just moved here a couple weeks ago.” You explained, wondering why he had taken a sudden interest in specifically you. “Ah that explains it.” He said nonchalantly. “Explains what?” You raised an eyebrow. “Why we haven’t hung out before.” He finished. It was obvious to you he meant more with his words by the look on his face. “So is that why you were watching me earlier? You wanna ‘hang out’ with me?” You teased, being thankful that alcohol gave you more courage than you ever would have sober. He chuckled at that before taking a step toward you. You notably felt your heart rate increase. There was a part of you that wanted to take a step back, increasing the space between you two but you ultimately ignored it. He leaned into you to speak in your ear, just loud and close enough so you could hear his words and feel the warmth on his breath on your neck. “You know why I was watching you dance, just like I know why you’re still standing here, talking to me.” He withdrew slightly, now facing you. His focus shifted from your eyes down to your lips for just a moment before returning. Fuck. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t melt a little right there. He was confident if anything, and nothing turned you on more. You could smell the alcohol on him, his lips still wet from his most recent sip. Lust and drinks were dangerous combination and he seemed determined to get his fix.

”So what are you going to about it?” You asked calmly, faking just enough confidence to pretend like he didn’t have you dying inside. A devilish smirk appeared on his face as if he were playing out the answer in his head. You could feel yourself get warmer, your cheeks had to have been noticeably red by now. You had an overwhelming feeling he could see right through you. He didn’t give you an answer and instead, pulled away returning to his drink, seeming all too satisfied with himself and his effect on you. “Hey!” You heard a voice call out to you from a distance, both of you turned to look at the source. It was Jennie, finally returning. Worse timing just didn’t exist, you thought. She gestured at you to come near her and you nodded in agreement. Hesitantly, you pulled away from the kitchen but not before sharing one last loaded look with those dark eyes, as if there was more to be said, more to be done, and not nearly enough hours in the night for any of it. He let you leave without a word, and the interaction lingered fresh in your mind.

You walked up to Jennie. “Hey! Where’d you go?” You asked. “I kinda did something bad.” She admitted. You were instantly curious and slightly worried at the same time. “Don’t scare me, what happened?” You asked. She hesitated a moment before answering. “I kinda... blew Tae’s best friend. In his bed.” She laughed, covering her smile with her hand. What? You were wondering if you heard that right. “No you fucking didn’t. Who?!” You inquired in awe, shocked but impressed at the lengths this girl would go to for revenge. You made a mental note to not get on her bad side. “Jimin.” She pointed him out in the crowd so you could put a face to the name. “He’s always had a thing for me so it was easy.... and quick.” She joked, now making you laugh, you shook your head, still in a state of disbelief. Okay so obviously, Jennie wasn’t the best at dealing with her hurt and her & Taehyung definitely didn’t have the most healthy relationship but they’ve been on and off for like two years now, you figured they’re probably used to shit like this. And even if you didn’t completely agree with her method of revenge, Taehyung had it coming. You knew she was on one tonight, already hurting, and you figured it’d be easier just to be supportive. “Honestly, he kind of asked for it when he made out with that bitch in front of you.” You pointed out, she laughed at that. Your smile faded as you looked to your left to see a more-than-pissed-off Taehyung walking towards you two. Looks like news traveled here, fast. “Jennie.” You gestured towards him to let her know he was coming, by the look on his face it was obvious he knew. “Here come the fireworks.” Jennie announced under her breath. He walked up to you both, sparing you a moments glance before grabbing Jennie by her arm. “What’s up babe?” She asked casually. He wasn’t having it. “We need to talk.” His voice was so low it was kind of scary, he pulled her to the side and she went along, only with some resistance.

Once again, you were on your own. You decided to find a bathroom to freshen yourself up a bit in the mean time. Unfortunately, all the ones downstairs were occupied or had muffled moans from behind the door. You decided to head upstairs, hoping to find an unoccupied one there. Most of the doors were locked, storage, or closets. You were close to giving up before you found a room at the end of the hall was empty and unlocked. A bedroom. You didn’t think anyone would mind if you used the mirror, so you walked in real quick and did. You rearranged your hair and reapplied your lip gloss.

As you were finishing up your last coat of gloss, you heard the door creak open behind you and shut. You immediately turned to look, surprised to see the same guy from earlier. “Hi.” He said with a smile, leaning against the door. “You stalking me now?” You teased, putting the gloss back into your handbag and setting it on the side table near you. “Can you blame me? We didn’t get to finish our... talk.” He said, locking the door behind him. With the sound of that click, it became clear your meeting had a different context. You could feel the atmosphere in the room change to become... heavier almost. He approached you, deleting the space between you with each movement. It also didn’t help that you already had your back against a wall, there really was nowhere to go this time. You swallowed a lump in your throat you didn’t realize was there to begin with. “You know...” He began, getting closer to you now than before, “I can’t stop thinking about you in this fucking dress.” He spoke lowly. You saw his lust-filled eyes staring back at you as his hands reached down to your waistline, tracing the edges of your body. You felt chills follow as his hand found its way from your hips down to your outer thighs, lightly grazing your ass. “Yeah?” You asked, at a loss of words due to your proximity to him. You were rendered practically helpless to his touch, there wasn’t much your body allowed you to do in his presence except submit to his will. “Yeah.” He replied. Once he reached the lower hem of your dress he let himself teeter at the edge. You bit your lip, maintaining eye contact, knowing what you craved at your core, praying he knew too.

He let hands linger on you a moment before he slipped two fingers under the lower band of your dress, you immediately felt the coldness of his hands against the soft skin of your outer thighs as he lifted the fabric slowly, just high up enough to have access to you. And all you did, was let him. He placed a hand at your center, feeling the wetness that had soaked through your panties. You blushed, embarrassed at the wet mess you’d become throughout the night. “Fuck, you’re so wet...” He said, speaking in a tone much lower than before. “...all for me?” He asked. It definitely was. The built up tension mixed between you two was enough to get you there. You were flustered by his practically immediate hold on you, all you wanted to do was anything he wanted you to. All you wanted to say was everything and anything he wanted to hear. “Mmhm.” You nodded, your faces closer than ever. He seemed satisfied with your response because in turn, he gave you the friction you were craving. Your breathing became unsteady as he let his hand grind against you outside the fabric of your panties, pressing his middle finger into your slit with the perfect amount of pressure. He created just enough need burning inside of you for you to know it wasn’t nearly enough. He enjoyed teasing you, it was all over his face. You needed more. You craved more.

And as if he could read your mind, he finally slipped his hand underneath the waistband of your panties and stimulated your clit with his bare hand. You let out a a whine as he felt all of you, high off the sensation of skin to skin contact. Every warm and wet bit of you was in his hands. “Fuck.” You said breathily. He moved softly, in small circles at first, setting every single one of your nerve endings on fire. He could see the satisfaction in your face, you couldn’t hide it even if you tried at this point. He increased his pace, hearing the sounds of your scattered whines and whimpers gradually increase in volume. He was relentless, reaching the most sensitive parts of you and exacting completely and utter pleasure. His forehead rested against yours as your eyes shut in pleasure. It felt as if there was some overwhelming magnetic pull drawing you into each other, you couldn’t really tell who leaned in first as your soft pink lips collided desperately with his. You moaned into his mouth. He slipped his tongue inside your mouth, gliding perfectly against yours in a heavenly rhythm. You felt a kind of intimacy within the kiss that was rare to you. Of course he was a good kisser, like really good.

You lightly bit his lip as he slipped a finger inside of you. It was as if kissing you only set him off more. You adjusted to him with ease considering how wet he had you before even touching you. He began pumping in and out of you, creating a new sensation only adding to the hopeless mess you’d become due to him. He moved inside you at the perfect angle. You reluctantly pulled your lips away from his for a moment so you could catch your breath. “Please.” You moaned softly, stunned with pleasure. “Please what?” He asked sternly, as if he wanted you to use your words, describing the sensations you were feeling, how he made you feel. “Please d- don’t stop.... please? It feels so fucking amazing.” You pleaded, feeling your impending climax within reach. He inserted another finger in you, curling them both inside you to hit your sweet spot with every pump. Fuck. That was it. How did he seem to have every inch of your body figured out already? In response, you, without consciously realizing it, began grinding your hips into him hopelessly. Your mouth opened in pleasure.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” He asked lowly, studying every part of you, he was so enamored with the moment, there was nothing in this world that could pull either of you away from this. You were almost too high off him to respond, but you nodded frantically as another moan escaped your lips. “Yes.” You admitted. You could feel your orgasm nearing as you slowly lost your others senses. “You’re gonna cum all over my hand?” He asked, moving himself faster somehow, you didn’t think it was possible. “Fuck, yes.” All you could feel now was him, pushing you to the edge, moving his fingers to penetrate inside of you at a pace you’d never felt before. “Cum for me.” He ordered, ready to witness you fall apart in front of him, all because of him. You obeyed, feeling a wave of euphoria crash into you and travel to the depths your body, cumming hard. Your cunt pulsated around his fingers as your body trembled in complete physical pleasure. This had to be heaven. The only thought in your head while you were in the clouds? You wanted more. How could you still crave more?

When you opened your eyes, returning back to planet earth, your breathing returned to normal again. All you could see was him in front of you. Those dark eyes were filled with want. You let your eyes trail down to the bulge between his legs. His cock was begging to be released from the restraining fabric of his clothes. Poor guy, he was so focused on you the whole time, he needed immediate relief. You slowly reached your hand down to the waist band of his pants. He didn’t make a single movement, as if he didn’t want to miss a moment of you. You slipped your hands underneath his pants, tracing the length of him from outside his briefs. He was so fucking hard. You wondered how he managed to fight the urge to turn you over and fuck you right there against the wall.

You dropped down to your knees and lowered his clothing, allowing him to reveal all of himself to you. You looked him in the eyes as you let your tongue wet the underside of his cock until it reached the head. He watched intently as you let your tongue slide across his slit before taking the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his hypersensitive head. Teasing him, just like he did you. You heard a suppressed moan from deep inside him. That was enough to motivation for you take all of him into your into your mouth. The warm wet softness surrounded him as your mouth fit tight around his cock. You heard his breath hitch. The sight of your face on him mixed with the sensation, it was just enough to drive him crazy. He was leaking with so much precum, you could taste it. He slowly began rocking his hips into your throat. You felt him sink into further and further into pleasure with each thrust. He threw his head back as you finally took him deep into your throat. Holding your breath, you rocked yourself back and forth on his cock. The soft tightness of your throat bobbing up and down on the head of his cock was overwhelming enough for his eyes to roll back into his head. “Fuckkk.” He moaned breathily, it was obvious he was already close to his limit.

“S-stop.” He said hesitantly. You ignored it and continued, determined to make him cum as hard as you just did. “Don’t make me cum. I-...” He paused what he was saying, distracted by the wave of pleasure he felt as you took him deep into your warm throat again, disregarding his words. “I’ve been dying to get inside you all night.” He admitted breathily, in attempt to get you to stop sucking his cock so he could stuff it inside you instead. Your insides throbbed at the thought of it. Although you wouldn’t mind having him inside you, like at all, you knew he was close to riding out his orgasm and you wanted to see the look his face when he came, from this angle. You looked up at him innocently and kept going. He tried to back up slightly, but you didn’t let him. “Fuck.” He said under his breath, tired of trying so hard hold back his release. Everything he was saying went out the window as he gave into his most primal desires, rocking his hips into you, chasing his orgasm, and contradicting himself once more. “God you feel so fucking good.” He mumbled as his thrusts gradually became sloppier and more desperate. He reached a hand down to entangle in your hair, pushing himself deeper into you as his body tensed up and stilled. He let out a moan as he came down your throat. You could feel the warmth of the large pool of cum in you, you swallowed it all cleanly.

He pulled out of you once his orsgasm faded. Seeming satisfied that you swallowed. You stood up and cleaned off your mouth, and readjusted your dress. Assessing how bad the damage was to your appearance from what you two had just done. He put himself back in his pants and did the same in the mirror. There was an kind of afterglow that surrounded the both of you. You looked at him through the reflection in the mirror. “Sorry I didn’t stop.” You said with a smile, realizing afterward that you probably should have. He returned a smile and shrugged. “It’s fine. You can make it up to me next time.”

He left you with those words and exited the room. You found yourself wondering what he meant by “next time” and if there would be one. How could there be? You didn’t even know the guys name, or number, or anything substantial about him really. You shrugged it off, deciding not to think too much into it, sometimes a one night stand was just that. A one night stand.

End of Part One

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kritzkrieg-kiss · 3 years

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Got any headcanons for mercs with an s/o who's wicked smart and talented?

Heck yeah I do

Mercs with a wicked smart & talented S/O

Scout: Broadway Chorus Liner. Scout likes a person with bubbly energy and athletic ability, but who is also humble and laid back at the same time. They compliment him well and aid in all his shenanigans. He makes sure to see every one of their performances. Even though their name doesn't even show up in the program, they receive more flowers at the end than the actual stars of the show.

Soldier: Blacksmith. They're sturdy and stringent, much like the weapons they forge. Soldier was attracted to their sense of deep-rooted character and strength at first. But as time went on, he discovered a more methodical and precise side to them. Of course they also augment his rocket launchers. He's crazy 'bout that.

Pyro: Cake Decorator. He's absolutely blown away how someone who makes such intricate works of sugary artistry can be so nonchalant about people destroying their handiwork. That is, until he gets a bite of it himself. He learned a lot about sacrifice and love that day, that sometimes in trying to preserve an act of selfless generosity, you miss out on it entirely. He learned the best way to accept such a gift is to devour it in a fit of fanatical passion. Yum 💛

Demo: Chorale Singer. He learned to stop and smell the roses from watching them. Much like the songs they would sing to themselves, they tuned themselves to the small, beautiful things that everyone else looked over. It brought him onto a whole new wavelength. They're shy though, and only sing when they think no one's around. On a sidenote, there may or may not have been at least a few dozen times where Demoman asked to borrow Spy's cloaking device.

Heavy: Flutist, The Old Nautical Kind. Heavy grew up several hundred kilometers away from the nearest ocean, but he always held a deep fascination with it. He wondered how something can be so vast and eternal, yet distant. How it could be so full of anger and rage, yet calming at the same time. It covered a majority of the earth, but to him, it might as well have been on another planet. It was everywhere, yet elusive. Powerful, but tranquil. Deadly, and at the same time full of life. He saw a lot of himself in it. So when he met someone who could blend up every one of those feelings simultaneously and whistle them through an old flute, he was instantly enchanted.

Engie: Gardener. Engie appreciates a person who can take their environment into their own hands, who can create a space to relax and reflect all on their own. Being the type of person who can see all the intricate parts that make up everything, he admires the certain tenderness and persistence it takes to grow plants from seeds, more notably a whole garden of them. Often times he'll cook with the vegetables they grow.

Medic: Close-Up Magician. This guy is the textbook definition of a willing suspense of disbelief. Every trick they did, from the complicated illusions to the 1st grade card tricks, left him clapping with a 'Hoo hoo! Do it again! Do it again! Do it again!' Never once did they lose patience with him. They kept a deck of cards on their person at all times, ready and willing to see Medic go from a grown man to a giggling child in less than ten seconds at any moment's notice.

Sniper: Professional Swing Dancer. They asked him to go dancing with them a few hundred times before he finally said yes. He's so uncoordinated it's a danger to those around them at first. But of course, they're exactly the right person for him to follow. They're the kind of person who can loosen him up a bit and not laugh at his expense when he utterly fails on the first few tries. After the first several bumps and bruises, Snipes decided to just say what the heck and finally managed to cut back and have fun. He still wasn't very good at dancing though, the Americana just killed him. Oh, the poor Aussie.

Spy: Charcoal Artist. Honestly, Spy didn't pay them much attention until he saw their work. It had been a rough morning and he didn't feel like talking to anyone, so the cloak was on as he walked about. As he was walking, he passed by an open door. Inside was a desk. On the desk was an open book lying face down. He didn't feel bad about snooping around where he shouldn't, heck it was his job after all. He slinked in and picked up the book, only to find it full of charcoal portraits of...himself? He delicately flipped through the pages. The drawings were spot on. The form, the lighting, everything. It captured his spirit in a way he couldn't understand. His heart swelled in his chest. He'd flip through the rest later, right now he needed to come up with a way to finally make their acquaintance.

I liked this one, hope you did too 💛

#tf2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #team fortress 2

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organabanana · 3 years

Photo

(if i can) light the world up || supercorp

Chapters: 1/?

Fandom: Supergirl (TV 2015)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers/Kelly Olsen

Characters: Kara Danvers, Lena Luthor, Alex Danvers, Kelly Olsen, Andrea Rojas

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate Color AU, Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, Lena Luthor Doesn't Know Kara Danvers is Supergirl, mentions of past rojascorp, Rated for future chapters.

Summary: Lena Luthor sees the world in black and white. Like everyone else, she'll see colors for the first time when she meets her soulmate. And though she's not exactly convinced this system makes scientific sense, she's (mostly) made peace with it. When a fateful meeting with Supergirl makes her world burst into color, Lena is sure the amount of nonsense in her life has reached critical mass. But in just her first morning in National City, Lena manages to also be associated with a spacecraft explosion, and attract the journalistic attention of one Clark Kent and his sidekick, CatCo Magazine's Kara Danvers. And the worst part is, meeting Supergirl may have given Lena's world color, but she's sure it's Kara Danvers brightening it up. It's that 'all the world is in black and white until you meet your soulmate AU', with Supercorp.

Notes: Written for FlashFictionFridays prompt 'undiscovered colors' as a tiny oneshot, but the idea wouldn't leave my head so I decided to turn it into a Proper Fic. It's all outlined and planned but I'm not sure how many chapters it'll end up being in the end so I'm leaving that up in the air for now!

[Part 1 on AO3]

Lena Luthor sees the world in black and white.

It’s not a metaphor, mind you. She literally sees the world in black and white. There are shades of gray, of course, but that’s it. That’s all.

And she knows, because she’s been told countless times, that it’s normal. It’s simply the way the world works. From infancy, she’s heard all about it in fairy tales and movies, in songs and in books and in conversations around her: you get your colors when you meet your soulmate.

And it’s not that Lena doesn’t believe it. It’d be illogical not to at this point. This isn’t an elaborate lie thought up by adults to keep children on their best behavior, like Father Christmas and the Tooth Fairy. The whole world can’t be in on a lie. So it must be the truth. It’s just that it doesn’t make any sense.

How can meeting someone alter the way you perceive the world? And she doesn’t mean in the sense that the sun shines brighter and the birds chirp louder because you’re in love, or whatever nonsense people are trying to sell in Valentine’s Day cards these days.

No.

She means, how can meeting someone fundamentally alter the way your brain processes the information from your optic nerves? It doesn’t make any sense.

So she’s been trying to cheat the system for years. Ever since she realized just how ridiculous this whole thing was when she had to console a heartbroken Andrea in their dorm room after their first kiss didn’t result in a chromatic explosion for either of them.

What’s a soulmate, anyway? What is a soul, even?

Lena may have never seen the color green, but she’s learned its wavelength is between 500 and 565 nanometers. She’s built glasses that can tell you exactly the colors you’re looking at, even if you can’t see them. She knows colors objectively exist even if she’s never seen one, so it’s not that she needs visual proof to believe in the existence of something.

Well, then. What’s a soul? What’s its wavelength? Where’s the chemical footprint it leaves on the brain? How can you have a soulmate if there’s no such thing as a soul?

How can your full perception of the world hinge upon meeting someone whose alleged connection to you is based upon something that may very well not even exist? How can something so important — the ability to fully see the world as it is — hinge on something as arbitrary as meeting your so-called soulmate?

(No, sixteen-year-old Andrea Rojas was not particularly comforted by this speech.)

So this has always been a sort of side project for Lena. Figuring out how to cheat this nonsensical system. Whatever happens when you meet your alleged soulmate, there has to be a way to boil it down to its bare essentials. We’re made up of organs made up of tissues made up of cells. It’s chemistry, all of it. And if it’s chemistry, she can figure it out.

But not today.

Today is a big day. It’s the day Luthor Corp becomes L-Corp, and that’s far more important than debunking this soulmate nonsense everyone keeps eating up. It’s her first day in National City, and she’s so excited — so nervous, deep down — that she’s walking to work instead of taking her usual car. She wants to feel the city around her. Feel how different it is from Metropolis and let herself have the true fresh start she very much needs.

She’s so focused on all that, in fact, that she may not be paying too much attention when she crosses a street. She hears the screeching of rubber on asphalt, a loud horn… and suddenly she’s safe and sound on the other side of the street.

“Wh—“ Lena’s heart races as she looks at the car speeding through the crossing where she was a split second ago, and tries to make sense of how she managed to apparently teleport to the safety of the sidewalk. “What—?”

“Are you all right?” A woman’s voice snaps Lena out of her daze. “You really should pay more attention!”

Lena looks up to see a bright wide smile and a set of blue eyes staring back at her, not an ounce of judgment in them even though—

Wait.

Blue eyes.

Lena blinks, eyes widening at the realization that the woman’s hair is golden blond as it shines under the sunlight. There’s the lightest pink on her cheeks, which Lena takes as the result of saving someone’s life, and she’s wearing—

Oh.

“Supergirl,” Lena breathes out, and she’s not sure whether she’s having more difficulty wrapping her mind around suddenly seeing color, suddenly meeting Supergirl, or both of those things happening at the same time.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Supergirl looks slightly concerned. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“No!” Lena shakes her head. This is all a bit too much. Humans don’t have souls. Aliens likely don’t, either. Can Supergirl see colors, too? “No, I’m fine. I’m— thank you, Supergirl. I appreciate your help. Thanks.”

Supergirl doesn’t look too convinced, but she can’t ask any further questions before she hears something — she mutters something that sounds to Lena like ‘explosion’ — and flies away.

Lena wishes she could say she’s figured things out in the couple of hours between her near death experience and Clark Kent walking into her office with a young woman in tow, but she’d be lying.

There’s been an explosion, and she’s — of course — somehow linked to it via the never-ending source of issues that is her last name, and now Clark Kent is here to be an extremely unbiased reporter, she’s sure. With everything that’s going on, the last thing on her mind has been Supergirl and the colors she’s somehow brought into Lena’s life.

Mind you, she’s sure it’s all as simple as the force of being moved at superspeed having knocked something around in her nervous system and made a new connection somewhere. She’s sure she’ll figure it out as soon as she can focus on it for a moment. But right now she has far more important things in her mind.

Except.

If her theory is right, it was Supergirl’s superspeed making her see colors by accident. And if the generally accepted theory is right (but it is absolutely not), then it was meeting Supergirl, her soulmate (oh, good grief), what caused it.

So.

Why does meeting Kara Danvers, not-a-reporter-just-tagging-along, make every color around her suddenly more vibrant than before? Why has she just realized the green on the succulent by the window is not the exact same shade as the green on the folder on her desk?

Lena Luthor hates when things don’t make any sense.

#supercorp fanfic #supergirl fanfic #supercorp #supergirl fic #supercorp fic #fic

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stellarstarwarsimagines · 4 years

Text

Somebody to Love

Pairing - Poe Dameron x Reader

Summary - Poe and you have been dancing around your feelings for each other for a long time. When a confrontation brings out all the insecurities you have about your relationship, will it be enough for him to finally make a move, or lose you forever?

Word Count - 3,067

Warnings - Language and angst

It was a dumb cliche. One that you had hoped to never fall victim too. It was pathetic, overdone, and could end in heartbreak. Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea.

But no one else had Poe Dameron as their best friend.

It was so easy. He was caring. When you were down, feeling hopeless or haunted, he could tell without you saying a word. He somehow always knew, and would do little things to cheer you up. The affection that he gave would multiply, more hugs and touches. He would play songs that he knew brought back good memories for the two of you and would make you laugh. Poe would tell terrible jokes and do anything to put a smile on your face.

He was such a good listener. He was the one person in the whole base that you knew you could tell anything to, and he would never say a word, no matter how stupid or silly it was, you knew that it was safe with him. He would never betray your trust.

The two of you were on the same wavelength. There were countless times you could look at each other and hold an entire conversation with your eyes and quirks of your lips.

How could you avoid falling in love with someone like that? You were helpless.

You weren’t the only one to notice this predicament either. The whole base seemed to be aware of the situation. You couldn’t count the amount of times you had both been teased, either privately, or in front of each other, about the fact that you should be together.

The fact was though, that it hadn’t happened. Nothing romantic had ever happened between the two of you except for a drunken kiss one night that you both brushed off the next day. Because that was what you did after a drunken kiss right? It didn’t matter that you were in love with him. He wasn’t in love with you. Sure, he told you all the time that he loved you, never left for a mission without saying it, but he wasn’t in love with you. You thought it would be easier to just forget about the kiss. Of course you never did.

Then it didn’t help that every time the two of you came close to becoming something romantic, Poe threw up a wall and seemed to take ten steps back. It made you bury your feelings deeper, try to forget about them, deny their existence. You had friends try and set you up, but it never went anywhere. Feelings like the ones you had for Poe didn’t just go away. They lingered at the edge of your heart, coming back full force with every sweet moment and smile the two of you exchanged.

You were having one of those moments now, sitting beside each other in a circle, knees brushing as you played one of those drinking games. The Black Squadron had returned earlier from a successful mission and wanted to celebrate. When Poe asked if you wanted to come, you hadn’t hesitated, eager to spend time with him after he had been gone. The object of the game the group was playing was to drink if you had done something that a person said. Not having lived the most exciting life, you were pretty sober, but still enjoying every second of your time. Until the question came up.

“Never have I ever had sex!” The drunken pilot called out before she took a large sip.

“You’re not supposed to say something you have done so you can drink!” Wexley called out to her.

“You say that as if I care . . .” She said with a laugh that everyone else continued as they took a sip.

Except you.

Being a virgin wasn’t something you tried to hide, but it wasn’t something you talked about either. Whenever it was brought up, someone never failed to have a comment about it. This time was no different.

“No wonder Poe hasn’t tried to fuck her yet.” A girl said, giggling to her best friend who started laughing as well.

“Hey!” Poe said, sounding pissed off, but it was as if you were underwater, his voice muffled in your ears.

The breath had been knocked out of your lungs. You felt like you were going to choke and your eyes filled up with tears. You had asked yourself that question so many times. Why didn’t Poe want to be with you? The both of you had discussions about what you wanted in a partner, and every time that little voice in your head told you that the person he was describing sounded a hell of a lot like you. You two had so much in common, and were the best of friends . . . What was it about you that Poe didn’t want to go further with? You had figured that maybe it had something to do with your physical appearance, your body type . . .

But was it this? Did he not want you because you didn’t have any . . . experience?

You swallowed hard, turning your gaze away from the direction Poe was and instead focusing on the moon. You could feel his eyes on you, and you refused to cry. You were not going to let him see your tears. You weren’t going to let anyone see those tears that so wanted to fall.

“Hey,” his voice was soft, his fingers a feather like touch against your knee. “Did I tell you about the Varactyls that almost ran me over? It was . . .”

He was trying to distract you. He knew that the words had hurt. Poe had always been able to figure out your emotions, but you didn’t think he knew how upset you were. You still couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he continued the story. Your fuzzy vision never wavering from the moon as you told yourself, practically screaming in your head, not to cry.

But then a tear fell down your cheek, and you knew you weren’t going to make it.

“I’m going to the restroom,” you mumbled, standing up and almost running back into the hangar. You didn’t head for the restroom though, instead finding the first hallway you could and sinking down against a wall. You buried your face in your hands and let it all go. Years of repressed feelings bubbled out of you as you cried. Questions of why you were good enough to be his best friend, but not good enough to be a lover, that you tried so hard to bury circled your mind over and over, never shutting up.

What was so wrong with you? Was it your virginity?

You wanted Poe to come look for you. You wanted him to come pull you into one of his amazing hugs and sing or do a stupid dance move until you didn’t feel like crying anymore, but you knew how this went. Throw a wall up and ten steps back. It wasn’t any different this time.

A small, hesitant beep, pulled your hands from your face. You brushed your tears away to find a familiar round droid rolling up to you carefully, as if afraid to scare you. “Hey, BB,” you whispered as he settled in front of you.

He made an inquisitive beep, and you shook your head.

“Not really, buddy,” you replied as a fresh wave of tears filled your eyes at the thought that maybe Poe’s droid cared more about you than he did.

The droid let out a sad noise and dropped its head, rolling over to your side and leaning against you as if trying to give you a hug.

Your chest constricted, and you hide your face once more.

____________________

It was a long time before you could bring yourself to get off the floor and go back to your quarters. You felt weak, tired, and as soon as you got to your room, you collapsed on your bed, still in your clothes, curled up in your blankets and fell asleep.

You didn’t know how long you had been sleeping when a knock at your door broke you out of unconsciousness. A part of you hoped it would be Poe, but you still found yourself surprised when you unlocked the door, and he was standing there. “You never came back.” He said, concern in his eyes as he took in your appearance.

It couldn’t be good. You knew how puffy your skin got after you cried. Your hair was bound to be a mess from your sleep, you were positive your eyes were red, and your clothes were now disheveled. That was nothing compared to how it felt to look at him with the words that had been circling in your mind so fresh. Another reason to add that Poe wouldn’t want to be with you. You looked terrible after you woke up. “Poe, I . . . I’m sorry, can we talk later?” You asked, looking down at the ground.

“Listen, I got onto them about what they said. They shouldn’t have -”

“Is it true?” You asked before you could stop yourself, biting your lip as you met his gaze.

Poe looked startled by your question. His brow furrowed together, and his eyes widened. He seemed shocked that you would even ask, which was fair, because you had never so blatantly brought up the relationship, or lack thereof, between the two of you. “What?”

“Is it true?” You repeated. “What they said . . . do you not want to be with me because -”

He didn’t even let you finish your sentence. “No! Why would you even -” He glanced around and slid between the door and your body into your room. “Do you think I’m that shallow?” He asked when the door shut behind him, disbelief written on his face.

You wanted to feel relief. Hearing the words come from his lips, you thought it might make you feel better, but with one question answered, the others were still there. “Then why?” You felt your lip trembling as you looked at him, and those stupid fucking tears were threatening to return. “Why am I not good enough to be loved by you?” You asked, your voice breaking.

“Sweetheart . . .” He reached for you, but you took a step away. He looked distraught, and you realized it was the first time you had ever denied affection from him. “You know I love you.”

Shaking your head at him, you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to hold yourself together. “Not like I love you, and I know you know that.”

Your name rolled off his tongue so soft you almost didn’t hear him. “Please . . . You’ve got no idea -”

“No, Poe, you’ve got no idea.” You choked back a sob, covering your mouth with your hand as you turned your back to him. You couldn’t look at him anymore. One more second of staring into those warm brown eyes, and you would fall apart. “You’ve got no idea how lonely it is loving you.”

It was so silent you thought he left. The quiet filled the room, and you had never been so uncomfortable with Poe your whole life. When he did speak, his voice was hoarse. “You’re wrong. I do love you, but I can’t -” You heard him take a deep breath. “I can’t risk losing what we’ve already got. Hell, you’re everything to me -”

“That’s bullshit!” You interrupted, angry at his excuse. He had the nerve to stand there and tell you that you were his everything and too important to lose? “What do you think is going to happen when you find someone to give that ring to? Do you think they’ll be okay with me being in your life like I am now?” You shook your head at him, brushing your tears away roughly. “You’re going to lose me either way, because I can’t . . . I can’t keep acting like your girlfriend when you’re not willing to take that leap with me.”

Once again, silence filled the room for a minute before Poe spoke. “I - what are you saying?” He asked, staring at you as if he couldn’t believe your words.

You didn’t want to say it. It was your instinct, seeing how upset he was, to hold him close. To tell him to forget everything you had said, and that it could stay the same. Poe Dameron was your best friend. Your confidant, your rock, he was everything to you.

But you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m asking you to go, Poe.” You said.

He said your name again, taking a step forward and reaching for you once more, but you shook your head.

“Please.” You whispered, begged, because if he stayed a second longer, you didn’t know if your resolve could make it.

This time he went.

____________________

Two weeks later Poe is presumed dead on a mission. It’s Jessika that tells you. It’s her who holds you while you sob. It’s her who checks on you and brings you food while making sure you remember to do basic things like shower and eat. It’s her who attempts to hold you together.

Inside? You’ve fallen apart.

You hate yourself. You hate everything you said to him. You hate yourself for pushing him away knowing now that the last conversation the two of you had broke your relationship apart. At the time it had seemed like it was worth it. Time apart would help you get over him, and in the future you could both go back to being friends. You didn’t think when you said those things, that he would be permanently out of your life.

Now he was, and you didn’t know if your life was worth living anymore without Poe Dameron in it.

You hadn’t left your room since you found out. There were too many memories outside for you to venture out there. You wouldn’t be able to go to the hangar without imagining Poe’s windswept hair and victorious smile when he came back from a mission. You wouldn’t go into the mess hall because Poe wouldn’t be there, saving your seat and making you laugh. Outside was out of the question. There had been too many days you two had walked, even danced horribly to take your minds off everything just for a minute.

No one tried to push you. They knew you weren’t ready, so when someone pounded on your door, you figured it was Jessika, bringing your dinner. Forcing yourself to get out of your curled up position, you walked to the door and opened it.

Poe Dameron was standing there. He was covered in blood and bruises, dirt and debris, but you swore your heart stopped beating. “Please don’t make me go.” Was all he said.

You collapsed into his arms.

He caught you, cradling you against his chest so tight you couldn’t breathe, but who cared about breathing when the man you loved was back from the dead? You sobbed into his neck, clutching onto his flight suit as if it was your last lifeline because it was. Poe was alive and everything else seemed so trivial. “I-I’m so sorry, I - I didn’t want to -” You managed to choke out, but he stopped you.

“No, no,” He let go of your waist and gripped your face in his warm hands, forcing you to look at him through your tears. “I was a fucking idiot, do you hear me? You were right. I was making shitty excuses because I was scared that I’d mess something up if we got together, and lose you for good. I thought if we just continued like we were . . . I don’t know.”

“We can.” You said, putting your hands on top of his, desperate to feel more of his skin, reassuring yourself that he was real. “We can, I promise I’ll - I’ll get over it.” You would. You would if you got to keep him in your life.

Poe shook his head and leaned forward until his forehead was resting against yours. You closed your eyes and breathed him in deep, desperate to remember this smell of jet fuel and musk for the rest of your life. “Sweetheart . . .” He breathed, his breath fanning across your lips. “I don’t want you to.”

Your eyes flashed open, and you forgot how to breathe, your hands tightening their grip around his so much you were sure you were hurting him, but he didn’t even flinch.

“All I could think about when they had me was you. How your nose crinkles up when it itches, how you laugh at my stupid jokes, how you make sure my drunk ass gets home safe when I drink too much, how you have the most beautiful smile in the world . . .” Poe tilted his chin down to press a soft kiss against your nose. “How I was wasting so much time being scared when I had the love of my life right in front of me.”

Your eyes closed, too many emotions flowing through your body. “I thought Poe Dameron didn’t get scared?” You said, your voice soft and hoarse from tears.

“I do when it comes to you.” He replied, now leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead.

The familiar sensation had you pressing even closer against him. You had never thought you were going to feel that again.

“I know I don’t deserve it, but I swear if you give me one more chance, you’re never going to doubt my feelings for you again.” Poe continued.

You stood there for a moment before opening your eyes and staring at him, tracing his features in your mind and memorizing them, determined to remember everything, “and if one of us messes up?” You asked.

Poe brushed your tears away with a thumb. “We’ll get through it.”

It was all you needed to hear. You leaned up on your tip toes and met his lips with your own, slanting your mouth over his. Your heart was pounding so rapidly it was bound to beat out of your chest.

You didn’t care. Poe Dameron, the love of your life, your best friend, the greatest listener, and the most caring man you knew was clutching you close and kissing you back as if his life depended on it.

Maybe falling in love with your best friend wasn’t such a dumb cliche after all.

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron imagine #star wars imagine

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adventure-hearts · 4 years

Note

Oi, can you give me your thoughts on the affection that Sorato would show to each other?

This ask actually inspired me to write meta for the first time in a while! Thanks a lot, Anon!

So, a while back I read this book called The Five Love Languages. It’s about how everyone expresses/experiences love in five main ways — words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, receiving gifts, and physical touch — and how this affects interpersonal relationships, especially marriage.

The book’s thesis is that everyone has a primary and secondary "love language”; for each of them there are multiple “dialects”, or different ways of manifesting love. In order to have a healthy relationship, you need to identify your and your partner’s language, so that you can give each other what you need (*).

Me being me, I immediately started to try and identify the love languages of each DA character, and predictably gave a lot of thought to Sora and Yamato’s. Based on my notes on this book, here are my headcanons about how Sora and Yamato express affection!

SORA

Primary love language → words of affirmation

If you consider Sora’s conflict in the original series, it was all about how unloved and unappreciated she felt in the absence of being told she was loved by her mother; and later, the feeling of feeling unappreciated by others in general.

Piyomon best represents how words of affirmation is Sora’s primary love language. Actually, my theory is that all digimon partners do this, to some extent. Piyomon gives Sora exactly what needs to feel loved: telling her how much she likes and appreciates her, constant complimenting, cheering her up, making her talk about their feelings, etc. (at first, Sora was so unused to having this need met that Piyomon’s initial adoration made her uncomfortable). I also think Sora places so much importance in to what people say (or don’t say) to her that she’s prone to misunderstanding people when they say the wrong thing or don’t tell her what she wants to hear.

On the other hand, although Sora struggles with being on the receiving end of words of affection, she’s excellent at using it to show love to others. She’s the one who’s encouraging her friends, keeping morale up, and providing reassurance through gentle and encouraging words. There are dozens examples of this in the series:

“Piyomon, kakoiiii!”

Encouraging Miyako (02 eps. 02)

Calling everyone to to check in on them (tri. ch. 3)

etc

I think it’s pretty obvious that words of affirmation are key for Sora.

Secondary love language → acts of service

If Sora struggles with her primary love language, she overcompensates with her secondary one, which is basically doing things for others.

This is the side of Sora who nurtures, organises, protects, cooks, sacrifices herself for others, and generally takes care of other people’s needs ahead of her own.

The downside of this is that Sora feels overwhelmed when she can’t respond to other people’s needs, and feels unloved when people don’t do things for her in return.

YAMATO

Primary love language → quality time

I believe Yamato’s main way of expressing love is spending one-on-one time with the other person. Again, the classic image is when he sits alone with Gabumon playing his harmonica. It’s symbolic of the Crest of Friendship.

Lots of Yamato’s issues in the first series probably have to do with his parents divorce stealing a lot of quality time from him as a child (i.e. neglecting him emotionally), and how as a result, he adopted the opposing attitude “I’m fine on my own, in fact I prefer to be”. Which is clearly not true, and it soon becomes apparent that this lone wolf act is him denying his true self and his true emotional needs. His obsession with being around Takeru and his jealousy when he spends time with other people is perhaps another clue. Yamato is the kind of person who feels loved when he gets someone else’s undivided attention, even if not a word is spoken.

Gabumon’s entire existence of pure devotion and loyalty to Yamato and all their scenes together as a duo is ample evidence of quality time being his main way of expressing love, but other examples include his desire to be close to Takeru all the time, staying with Jou at the restaurant, “Let her cry”, having a one-one-dinner with Taichi to cheer him up, etc. Yamato doesn’t let a lot of people in, so when he deigns to spend alone time with someone, you know it’s serious.

Secondary love language → words of affirmation

This is maybe provocative, but I also think words of affirmation are incredibly important for Yamato. However, this secondary LL is very undeveloped, both by his discomfort with verbalized affection in general and especially when it comes to his attempts to express love for others through words.

Still, Yamato’s need for words of affirmation is shown not just by Gabumon’s innumerable pep-talks where he cheers Yamato up by telling him how much he loves him and says all those wonderful things about him. Other examples would include the entire Dark Cave saga (including helping Sora), many of his interactions with Taichi (Yamato’s oversensitivity whenever Taichi says something “thoughtless” is also an example of the importance he places on words; but also, “Thank you for believing in me”!), and even his music career (writing songs about feelings while a bunch of girls screams their adoration at him? He’s getting something out of it).

How do LLs work in the context of (romantic) Sora/Yamato?

I’d say the first conclusion I took from this is both Yamato and Sora struggle with, and at times suppress, their primary love language. Having this in common is important, because it shows how similar they are emotionally, and probably makes them better able to empathise with each other.

Another crucial conclusion is that they're both fluent in the same love languages. Quality time could just as well be Sora’s secondary love language, and Acts of Service could easily be Yamato’s. So here are to people who — when in a healthy, mature state — are in the same emotional wavelength and therefore are perfectly suited to give each other what they need.

Now we’re getting into headcanon territory, but I think of the reasons why this couple works is precisely that know the importance of using “words of affirmation”. Do note that this love language isn’t just about saying “I love you” and “You look gorgeous” and “Here’s a list of the 438479287 best things about you″. It’s much more about saying “You can do it”, “That was great!”, and even “Thank you”. In this sense, you can totally see how both would be emotionally fulfilled by giving and receiving verbal encouragement and appreciation form the other.

I think this love language both the strength of the relationship — being able to build each other up — and also their Achilles heel — if one or both of them fail to develop it.

It’s all too easy to imagine a situation were Sora and Yamato don’t use enough words of affirmation with each other, creating a vicious cycle. Of course, as we’ve seen, this love language is something they both need to work on and learn from their digimon partners!

Overall, I’d say Sora is probably better at it, with Yamato often struggling to put his love in words without being embarrassed; I think any grand declarations would be saved for special occasions.

I think Sora would be great at responding to Yamato’s need for quality time. Like, of course she’d be perfect at making sure they spend time together despite their busy schedules, at planning dates and activities and getaways. And she’d would be patient enough to just sit next to him in silence, waiting for him to open up. Sora herself would also benefit from Yamato’s tendency to want to spend one-on-one time, especially if Yamato used this quality time to listen to her and talk about feelings. Still, problems could emerge if Yamato thinks Sora isn’t spending enough time with him.

I also believe Yamato would be pretty good at expressing love through acts of service, I.e. doing nice and helpful things for Sora. This is the kind of boyfriend who can cook dinner, do the laundry, handle car insurance, and who’ll jump in the middle of a battle to save her life. Trouble could arise if Yamato actually forgets to do something, or if Sora finds herself overwhelmed trying to do everything on her own.

Finally, a word about the remaining two languages (gift giving and physical touch). Of course they are present in this relationship! They just aren’t the main ways they use to express love. Again, considering Sora has the Crest of Love, she’s fluent in all the love languages.

When it comes to physical affection / PDA, I think almost everyone in the fandom agrees this isn’t a couple who would be very demonstrative in public. I don’t think they would regard touching/kissing/sex as the predominant way of showing love and intimacy. I’m sure they’re a very affectionate couple (in private), but dealing with emotions would be the main dynamic in the relationship.

Similarly, I doubt gift giving would be a huge thing outside of special occasions. I myself headcanon that Yamato is a not a great present giver, and if Sora was feeling ignored, there isn’t a diamond ring in the world that would make up for it.

Well, this was a long tangent. I hope it answered your question, Anon! I’d be curious to see other people’s opinions, too.

(*) NOTE:

There are a bunch of quizzes to discover your own LL, but according to the author, the way to identify someone love language is by asking:

a. How they express love and appreciation for others; b. What they request more often; c. What they complain about.

#asks #digimon #meta #soraxyamato #sorato #will I ever get tired of psychoanalising these two?#I don't think so

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cloveroctobers · 4 years

Text

YASMIN DOUGLAS—

IG info/Bio: @/imyasmin_d | 11.6k followers | hello & ahlan 🎶

23-24 years old depending on her birthday (I’m thinking too much about timelines since i know some shows aren’t live and if they filmed it prior & it’s just being shown to us now...then there’s the boat party that comes in after, you get what I’m saying right? No? Okay)

Moroccan heritage

she was born in fes along with her baba

Father works in the carpet & rug manufacturing industry and worked in his father’s business from the young age of 16

her mother is from Essaouira & has often stated that she couldn’t stand Yasmin’s father the first time they met but she wouldn’t want to travel through this life with anyone else

Her father and mother came from two different lifestyles. All he knew how to do was hard work yet he had a sarcastic but playful side to him whereas her mom came from a family that was more financially stable & she was free to do whatever! mainly hanging at the beach with her friends without a care in the world, she was privileged and a little uppity while her father’s life seemed to be planned out from the day of his birth

Yet they still fell in love and decided to leave Morocco months after they got married at 21 & 24 & not too long after they had yas they left for England

She was raised in Kent, England

The Atmosphere led to her boho lifestyle...being exposed to castles, gardens, and underground tunnels from time to time shaped her into what she felt she was meant to be. She loved her second home

they call her “yazzy”

Parents follow islam...Which Yasmin respects but is not strongly devoted to

Can speak & write in Arabic but seems to do better in writing

Her paternal grandparents fault her parents for not teaching her to excel at both & feel that if they weren’t in such a rush to leave home she would speak Arabic better

Which made Yasmin feel like shit. Her paternal grandparents were strict on keeping their customs alive whereas her maternal grandparents were carefree as long as they got to see their granddaughter alive & well that was good enough for them

Idk maybe a only child or has a older brother? I don’t feel like she comes from a big family sibling wise

her mother made her a stuffed purple sheep that she took everywhere with her as a kid & continues to keep close to her. Y’all had imaginary friends? Well Yasmin had a real friend she could see & squeeze the life out that didn’t require talking and hugging the air, but that’s fine do u

100% collects beanie babies until this day but lil yamb is the number one princess in her household

As her significant other you have to be okay with lil yamb sleeping in between y’all that’s just the way it is

These stuffed babies are her comfort when no else can be

she’s a singer/songwriter. Went to uni for it & finished a semester early

Went through multiple hell experiences when it came to interning & temping while still in school & after

Let’s just say she wasn’t down to f*ck her way to the top

this made her anxiety act up, these people made her feel like she wouldn’t be good enough to show the world her craft & it’s didn’t have to be the world, just someone who would listen

But she couldn’t give up, there was nothing else she saw herself doing. She knew this is what she was meant to do but she couldn’t lie and say that her insecurities didn’t get the best of her most days

Although the cons seemed to out way the Pros some days, she kept at it & found herself a solid team that knew what she was about and understood her soul

Was definitely the student who loved all her English classes & when she spoke up everyone found it shocking since she preferred to just write everything out rather than “participate in group discussions”

I feel like her singing voice sounds similar to Jessica mauboy’s (if you don’t know who that is & you’re a fan of r&b/pop check her out or if you’re just curious that works too lol)

Knows her music notes like the back of her hand, duh!

Fav color is royal blue, especially on her eyelids & nails

Occasionally sleeps in rollers to keep her hair wavy

Needs her space when it comes to disagreements, they stress her out & she panics a bit when things go wrong so she feels like she needs to leave the situation rather than talk it out right then and there

She’ll talk when she’s ready, she just needs someone that’s a little patient with her that’s all

Words of affirmation is her love language? When she figures out how to balance her love life with her work life that is. When she’s feeling confident she’s smooth with words but when she needs to show you how much you mean to her & she really takes the time to think it out & feel her emotions, she’s writing you a song or you’re the inspiration to it or a poem, leaving you little love notes on blue post-it’s around the house, will write 50 reasons why she loves you on Valentine’s Day, and will say so when it’s just the two of you in your own comfort

Isn’t too crazy about public displays of affection but will deff hold your hand if that’s something you or she wanted in that moment

I think she’s fluid

Hasn’t been in many relationships. Sure she goes on tour every other year and gets to meet many people but they’re not solid relationships, they’re hookups and she hasn’t done many of those either

Had maybe one or two solid relationships: a androgynous woman that uses she/they pronouns & was in a rock band & a cis male she met at a tattoo parlor his step-brother owned (he kinda favored seb but we’re not going to speak on that)

I believe she wants to get married someday but isn’t so keen on the idea of kids. The furthest she’ll go is adopting a couple of animals. She’ll be a pet mom! I feel like she’ll be anxious looking after the life of a human being when it’s extremely hard to do so not only for herself and the love of her life & you want to add kids to the mix?! Fucking hell! but that could change? Who knows what life can throw at u

Has a hedgehog named Sonia that she drops off at her parents for their weekly sleepovers

Loves lace—mostly bralettes & crotchet clothing

I see her as a corduroy girl too. She has at least some rusty brown low-rise corduroy pants or/and a jacket

owns a crotchet kit, she’s bloody good at it too

Loved pink & purple (still likes them, they’re her 2nd & 3rd fav colors) so much as a kid that she tried to dye her hair half & half while her parents went out on their date night...it was also the weekend before school pictures :)

Says she got her inspiration from starfire & raven. She was only 13 at the time & had braces. Her father approved saying she’s a kid and she should be allowed to express herself. He only said that because his own parents barely let him & his brothers have their own fun

Her mother thought it was atrocious and did her best to get it out with the help of her other hair stylists friends (her mother worked in plenty of beauty shops once she got to England, until she decided to convert their basement into her own shop) who she invited over to see what her daughter had done but when you use certain permanent dyes...

It didn’t completely damage yasmin’s hair plus it was just hair, Yasmin didn’t see the big deal. She thought she looked splendid

Anyway, massive fan of ballroom dancing

She’s got a great ear to begin with so it was extremely fun twirling around while wearing pretty ballroom gowns

Took boring etiquette classes as a form of punishment? After the whole teen Titans inspiration thing “went wrong”

Enjoys western films

yes she owns a cowgirl hat & some boots too so sue her, she likes what she likes

Knows how to lasso but hates doing it to animals but she’ll do it to you :) (*gags* lmao why???)

Also loves visiting western towns & learning some history or at least experiencing what it was like

Type of significant other that will do her best to persuade you to stay in a treehouse airbnb, a cabin, the fucking Idaho potato, or camping out in her Volkswagen van in the middle of nowhere!

Has faux cow rugs, wicker baskets, wicker chairs in her flat, hangs some plants in glass jars & bottles all over her house

Her flat is very bright & vibrant: white, mocha brown, tan, yellows, & pastel purple

When it comes to decision making, she’ll make them pretty quick but only if it comes to choosing desserts

nobody is touching her mom’s meskouta orange cake WITH syrup

the dessert eater that always picks the one that has a surprise inside, meaning it has to ooze out with SOMETHING to make it 10x more satisfying

Leaning towards Buddhism, had studied some of their beliefs and found it resonates with her spirit

Fan of neon lights, probably has a few neon signs in her flat preferably on her brick wall in the loo, “to give u comfort as you go!” “that...actually makes sense.” Tai commented as he rubbed his chin coming to terms with yasmin’s reply. While Iona scowls, “no, no it doesn’t. I feel as if it’s an invasion of my bits!” “...Sorry you feel that way.”

tai & ciaran are automatically deemed as her brothers since she came into the villa with them. She had time to connect with them unlike anyone else. It was just the way the stars wrote their story and it showed outside of the villa too. they often crash at her place all the time when they’re in town & vacation all the time together when their schedules line up + it never feels like she’s third wheeling

“TaiTower” & “BB-Ci” are their names in her phone, Tai picked his own name while the “bb” stands for “best buds” for ciaran —which is a joke since he drunkly called himself so + he loves everyone when he’s drunk

You can always count on her to belt the lyrics to a Chaka Khan, TLC, or paula abdul joint when she’s drunk lol

As for the girls? She’s close with miki 😒 they just seem to be on the same wavelength when it comes to the pressure of the media since they have some sort of fame which increased with them being on the Telly. They bond over that & from there they’ve built a solid friendship

She could also be friends with AJ too (if you didn’t get swiped from her that is lmao!) they’re sorta opposites with aj being high energy/active while Yasmin is more mellow & “mysterious” but seem to connect in different ways: their sexual indentities, insecurities/anxieties, having something to be passionate about but at the same time maybe not? She might lean towards elladine or Genevieve if she had to make a choice?

Aquarius sun + cancer moon

so she’s still 23 y’all, I got it! I can’t do math sorry

“Freddie Mercury was probably my dad in my past life.”

Can play the banjo, guitar, & oud

Participates in hot yoga weekly

If she’s not with mc in the end and continues dating around if anyone from season two: LUCAS, Kassam, Gary, Rocco, maybe Blake? I originally thought Elisa but she’s probably too much for yas let’s be honest here lol they’d be better off as friends

Omg I forgot marisol! Imagine that?! Whew!!!

Season three: maybe Lily? But what if? Me being the slightly messy bitch that I am? Something happening with her & AJ. Now that?! Would be some chaotic shit “from the outside looks of it” name the irrelevant person behind the quote...now!

I’d like to see her interact with allerga but there could be something with her & cherry. I’m thinking cherry, Yasmin, & priya would bond well but we’re not here to talk about that

Getting rid of the physical aspect I genuinely think she’d do well with marisol, Lucas, or kassam. They’d mesh well I think in a relationship

She’s a body shimmer girl for sure!

Loves silk or satin robes

she’s a shortie, 5’2 to 5’5

Is learning Spanish

Loves arcade games, come see her in pinball & Pac-Man!

Quarantine life did not change her lifestyle much, but it did slightly mess with her mental health :/

loves the fall time, feels like she can slow down some and really spend time with family and friends

I feel like she has one best friend outside of the villa & that’s good enough for her!

They met their first year in uni & been close ever since

She doesn’t speak to the temporary friends she grew up with anymore & is often confused why they feel the need to keep up with her in the media which added more annoying worries to her heart but whatever right? Keep your eyes on the horizon

celebs she finds/found attractive: Aaliyah—especially when she played in queen of the damned, Kehlani, Zazie Beetz, Fivel & Booboo Stewart, Lakeith stanfield, Leah Lewis, Sofia Carson, Ryan gosling, & Nick Jonas

She listens to: jade bird, Yebba, Elli Ingram, Wafia, Zeina, Summer walker, Tanerèlle, Mariah the scientist, Teyana Taylor, Tove Lo, lady Gaga, Ra Ra Riot, Empire of the sun, & smallpools

Anthem? Diana Gordon — Rollin’

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cadence-talle · 4 years

Text

Leave Our Shadows On The Lawn

Pairing: Platonic Zillah & Zaldo

Wordcount: 2,329

Summary: She couldn’t control being born with someone just like her; but now that Zaldo is here, she wouldn’t trade them for the world.

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? The big secret to fitting in. If you’re willing to sacrifice what makes you special, what makes you different, if you give all that up and become a carbon copy of everyone else, then and only then can you truly be perfect.

Zillah has never been good at letting things go.

Other notes: Well, after about a day of Very Serious planning & headcanon-making, I present the Zaldo fic. It turned out more Zillah-centered (sorry about that!), but there’s a fair amount of Zaldo in there too.

Taglist: @an-absolute-travesty, @ruewen-and-rising, @loverofallthingssmart, @lemontarto, @appalyneinstitute1, @clearlykeefitz, @lula-vacker, @diamond-dreamerr, @theofficialkai517, @mistythegirlfluxmess, @rainbowelizzy

The elvin world has an odd amount of prejudice.

Oh, they’ll try to hide it, to claim enlightenment and never change a thing, but Zillah knows better. She knows- has always known, really- that you’ll only be accepted if you’re perfect, and that the standards for “perfect” are often things far from your control.

Take her birth, for instance. Zillah didn’t decide to be born a twin, didn’t wake up one morning and say “oh, you know what I want? A twin, so I can be constantly rejected by society!” She couldn’t control being born with someone just like her; but now that Zaldo is here, she wouldn’t trade them for the world.

Zillah has never been good at letting things go.

When she was a kid, back when Zaldo wasn’t Zaldo but some long-forgotten ‘sister’ of Zillah’s that never fit quite right, Zillah dreamed of going to Foxfire.

Her parents were (are) low-level nobility, high enough on the ladder to get into the prestigious school but only with difficulty. Zillah could get in, though- she knew she could. Study, practice, sleep, repeat; for almost a year all she did was focus on Foxfire. And she got in.

She remembers the scrolls coming to their house, silver seals carefully broken and paper laid flat on the table. She remembers looking up from her acceptance letter with a huge smile only to see her parents exchanging an odd look over Zaldo’s head.

She remembers putting down her scroll and glaring defiantly at her parents, little eleven-year-old arms crossed. “If Zaldo’s not going, then neither am I,” she declared.

And she stood by that, even as things at school got progressively worse.

Zillah has manifested early, barely into her second year at Pharos Academy. She’s been told over and over again how lucky is, how surprising it is to have a twin be so incredibly powerful.

��She must have gotten all the Talent,” people whisper. “Too bad for her sister.”

“Zaldo’s not my sister!” Zillah will shout, over and over again. “And they’re just as powerful as I am, you’ll see!”

But as years pass, Zaldo doesn’t manifest. Not in second year, or third, or fourth. By fifth year, everyone in school knows about them; the Shade and the Talentless, siblings who stick out even in a school full of people not good enough for Foxfire. Zillah gets in trouble almost once a week for fighting.

“Zillah, sweetie,” her father says after one particularly bad incident. Zillah had flooded a classroom with shadows, surrounding a loud-mouthed kid who had made a comment about Zaldo. He had screamed and cried, and even Zillah feels a little guilty. “You’re incredibly strong, incredibly emotional. And sometimes, those emotions get the best of you.”

Zillah flinches slightly. Her father shakes his head.

“No, no, listen to me. Feeling as deeply as you do isn’t a bad thing. It just means you have to be careful with how you express yourself.” He squeezes her hands. “You want to protect your sibling, and that’s good. But you need to be careful not to hurt people in the process.”

“I-” Zillah flexes her hands, making all the shadows in the room grow longer. “I’m just tired of people pretending Zaldo doesn’t exist. Like they’re not worth looking at. It makes me mad.”

“And you have every right to be angry,” her father agrees. “Our world is problematic, to say the least. But if you’re thinking about it all the time, you’ll never stop being upset. I just want you to try to live, okay? Be someone other than the Shade, other than Zaldo’s protector. Just be Zillah.”

“I’ll try,” Zillah says, and she means it.

And when Zaldo had finally, finally manifested as a Hydrokinetic, Zillah relaxed. Surely, now that they both had abilities, the pressure would lighten up a bit.

It didn’t, of course. Zaldo might have had an ability, but it was weak. Even after months of training, they were barely able to control a cup of water. And the rumors were always there- twins were broken, they were wrong, they were weak. That’s why Zaldo was so odd.

And Zillah felt like she was always screaming, screaming into a void that she was strong, that Zaldo wasn’t odd, screaming until her throat went sore and then screaming again.

Zillah slams into the house after school one day, dropping down on the couch with a growl. Zaldo’s at a painting lesson and her father is at work, so the only people home are her and-

“Honey? Is everything all right?”

Her mother sits on the couch next to her, forehead crinkled with concern. “Did something happen at school?”

“No.” That’s a lie. Of course something happened at school, things always happen at school, but that’s not why Zillah’s upset right now. “I just hate this.”

“Hate what?”

“This!” Zillah waves a hand in the air. “All of this. The kids being mean to Zaldo, the teachers looking down on us all the time- I hate it.”

Zillah’s mother is silent, so she keeps talking. “I hate the kids, and the adults, and I hate Zaldo, for not being normal. Why can’t they just be normal?”

“Honey-”

“And I hate myself! Because I’m trying to be strong but I can’t sometimes, and I’m trying to be normal but I can’t, and-”

“Zillah, hon-”

“I like girls! I’m gay, mom, and I’m sorry- I hate it-”

“Honey!”

Her mother wraps her in a hug, holding tight as Zillah tries to breathe again. When she feels at least slightly better, her mom pulls back.

“Honey. Zillah. I love you and your sibling more than anything, okay? Nothing you can do will change that.”

Zillah blinks the tears back, staring at her. “But I-”

“You’re allowed to be angry, honey. You’re allowed to hate things. And I know that you don’t really hate Zaldo, do you?”

Shaking her head, Zillah swallows heavily. “No.”

“See? It’s okay. I understand where you’re coming from, but don’t ever forget this.” Her mother takes her by the shoulders, looking straight into Zillah’s eyes. “Differences aren’t bad, honey. Sometimes they’re the greatest connection of all.”

“I know,” Zillah says. Her mother plants a kiss on the top of her head and stands up.

“Yeah. Yeah, you do.”

-/-

To be honest, Zillah’s not surprised they have a falling out. She loves Zaldo, and Zaldo loves her, but they’ve always seemed to operate on different wavelengths. Zillah is harsh, determined, cares too much about everything around her and tries to push it down. Zaldo is friendly, open, simply doesn’t understand why Zillah is so upset all the time.

“You don’t get it,” Zillah says, crossing her arms and glaring at her sibling. “I have to do this. Prove that I’m better than them.”

Zaldo tilts their head, frowning slightly. “If you’re so much better than them, why do you care what they think?”

“I don’t!” Zillah throws her hands in the air. “I don’t care about their opinions. They’re all wrong.”

“Then why do you have to prove anything? Why not just live your life?”

“I-” Zillah blinks, looks down, curls into herself. “I just do. I need to show them they were wrong.”

“Huh.” Zaldo frowns. “Okay.”

They don’t go up in a burst of flame, relationship crashing to pieces around them; it’s slower, quieter. A lifetime of misunderstandings, of paths branching in a million different directions, of waves crashing in and carrying them out to sea.

Zillah wakes up one morning and realizes they haven’t spoken in six months. She’s noticed the ache in her gut that tells her something’s missing, but she’s almost used to it at this point. She’s adapted, she realizes, to life without Zaldo.

Zillah has never been good at letting things go, but this time she has to be.

So life goes on. Zillah starts mentoring at Foxfire, teaching the only Shade- an upper-classman who seems to have no interest in the ability at all. It’s frustrating, to say the least, but walking the halls of Foxfire gives Zillah an undeniable sense of power. Take that, she thinks to all the people who said she’d never get anywhere. Take that.

It’s not good, exactly; she’s not happy. But she’s satisfied. That’s enough.

And then she’s called in to mentor Tam Song.

From the moment he walks into the room, Zillah is taken aback. Because it’s her- same angry eyes, same defensive body language, same expression. This is someone who’s ready to fight, who’s had to fight too much over their life.

It’s her, but if things had gone wrong. If Zaldo had been too powerful, if they had lost control. Zillah knows, without a doubt, that if her sibling had been banished she would have come along too. Would have grown up even angrier, would have been even more closed off.

Looking at Tam Song is like looking in a mirror, and Zillah isn’t sure she likes what she sees.

“Come on,” she says as Tam holds a hand out towards the shadowflux currently creeping across the atrium floor. “You are stronger than it is. Make it listen to you.”

Tam growls, clenching his fist tighter. “If it’s so easy, why don’t you do it,” he mutters. Zillah ignores him.

“You’re afraid. You can’t be.”

“Oh, so I’m just supposed to let go of everything that scares me?” Tam snaps, turning towards her. Zillah raises an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“That’s impossible,” Tam says. “You can’t just… be fearless.” Zillah opens her mouth, but he keeps talking. “Even you. You can’t decide to do away with all your fear. You’re not fearless, you’re just hiding.”

He narrows his eyes at her. “What are you afraid of?”

Zillah blinks, staring at him speechless for a full minute. Then she shakes her head and glares.

“Nothing. Now get back to work.”

-/-

Zillah can’t sleep that night, tossing back and forth as words whisper in her mind.

“Be someone other than the Shade, other than Zaldo’s protector. Just be Zillah.”

Back; Zillah and Zaldo laughing as they race through the house, stumbling and speeding but always knowing the other will be there.

“Differences aren’t bad, honey. Sometimes they’re the greatest connection of all.”

Forth; Zaldo standing in front of a canvas, creating an abstract scene that makes Zillah feel nostalgic for something she didn’t even know she was missing.

“Why do you have to prove anything? Why not just live your life?”

Back; Zillah rushing home from school to tell her sibling what she’s just learned, the two bending over books and shouting whenever they find something cool.

“What are you afraid of?”

Forth; Zillah standing alone in her office at Foxfire, trying her best to convince herself that she’s happy.

Just be Zillah.

Differences aren’t bad.

Why not just live your life?

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

What are you afraid of?

And suddenly Zillah knows what she has to do.

-/-

Zaldo’s house is small, decorated with pearls and opals that shine in the morning light. They’re shimmering white, tiny bits of color interspersed here and there. A direct opposite to what’s inside.

She steps into the building, calling “Zaldo?” as she looks around. It’s different from when she was last here, not the furniture (there’s not much in the way of furniture anyway) but the walls. They’re covered in many layers of paint, circles of purple overlapping swirls of yellow and blue. That, at least, the years haven’t altered; Zaldo’s always done that, always painted the walls in whatever color they were feeling.

Whenever inspiration- which ranged from a line of conversation to the flower in the sidewalk outside their house- struck them, they had to paint. The walls of their room were always changing, being covered up by new colors, new blossoms. It’s like nature, like it’s always shifting and stumbling and moving forward anyway.

Zaldo’s a little like that too.

Now that she’s here, standing in Zaldo’s living room, the ache in her gut is back. She’s missed her sibling, loath as she is to admit it.

“Zillah?” Zaldo enters the room, putting a paintbrush on the coffee table as they move towards Zillah. “What are you doing here?”

Smiling awkwardly, Zillah rubs the back of her neck. “I figured it was time to drop by. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah,” Zaldo says, sitting on the couch and gesturing for Zillah to do the same. “I missed you.”

Zillah feels her throat choke up a little. “I- I missed you too. And I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I-” Zillah stares down at her hands in her lap. “I’m always trying to be strong. To not care what other people think. But I do, and I can’t stop caring, and I- I think a little part of me has always hated you for being so calm. For not seeming to mind what people said about you. I've always wanted that.”

“Hmm.” Zaldo is quiet for a moment, then says, “I've always wanted what you had, actually. You're always so... confident, and emotional, and people listen to you.”

Zillah laughs slightly, thinking of Tam Song. “Trust me, they don't. But... I think I get what you’re saying.” She recalls her mother’s words from so many years ago. “We all have our differences. They’re what bring us together.”

Zaldo nods. “Exactly.”

There’s a beat of silence, the two staring at each other and smiling, before Zillah’s sibling breaks the quiet. “Do you want to see the painting I’m working on?”

Zillah grins, standing up from the couch and holding out a hand. “That sounds perfect.”

#lynn rambles #my writing #lady zillah #zaldo kotlc #kotlc #kotlc fanfiction

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minkdenmilo · 4 years

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💙 Autism Trait Listing Time 💙

I am self-diagnosed as of now but I'm in the process of trying to get tested and my diagnosed friend said that a lot of what I told her lines up so it's likely I am autistic.

+ Constant Fidgeting: Bouncing of my leg, Tapping of my fingers - If I stop I am physically uncomfortable and tend to shake my ankle/foot or shake my wrist/hand

+ Sensory Oveload at Noise: Usually it's not the loudness of noise for me, but the overlapping of noises. Hearing a television play a show + someone talking + someone somewhere else talking etc. makes me get a headache and I sometimes feel like crying because I can't focus or really hear myself think.

+ Sensitivity to Sudden/Loud Noises: I flinch and startle at loud noises frequently- to the point in which it is noticeable by friends. If the bell goes off when I don't expect it to or the fire alarm I nearly fall out of my chair. If my dad raises his voice or if anyone gets upset and raises there voice I instantly assume they're yelling and tense up- even if they're just raising their voice a little.

+ Tactical/Texture Sensitivity: I detest certain textures and actively avoid them like cotton balls (which feel like how nails on a chalkboard sound), fennel/rosemary, any texture in drinks, nuts in bread, etc. in which my family has noticed and teased me over. Where as other textures I adore and constantly seek out like tree bark or soft fur like textures.

+ Stimming(?): I constantly pick at my skin and when I try to stop I can briefly before I go back to doing it without thinking because it's relaxing. I constantly play with the joysticks on my Nintendo Switch to help compensate and give my hands something to do. I use a fidget spinner sometimes as well to help relax and when I get anxious I use it more often cause the noise it makes and the action of spinning it is helpful. I also do the ASL (sign language) alphabet without thinking to myself just cause it's relaxing and when told to stop I get a bit anxious. I tap my fingers together repetitively a lot and my friends have noted this and have mentioned I tend to do it more when I'm stressed or bored.

+ Hyperfixation: I have the habit of finding something I like and then focusing on it violently. When I was a kid I would watch the same three movies (Newsies, Highschool Musical, and Hairspray) on repeat until I memorized the lines. I went through a phase where everyday I watched Total Drama for like half a year- I still remember the events of each episode. If I watch a video on a video game I have to look up the Wikipedia entry on it, read everything in the fan wiki, and watch video after video deconstructing the game until I'm satisfied. I'll listen to the same song for hours at a time for a week or more and then ramble about it to my friends. My habit of infodumping everything I know about a subject bothers my families and friends. I'll ramble for an hour about an idea I have for a play to a friend before realizing I haven't shut up cause I know most people don't care about minute things like I tend to.

+ Being a Kid: As a kid I was definetely the odd one out. I would hug everyone regardless of who they were, how close we were, or if they were receptive. I just had to hug people- I would get upset if I couldn't hug people. To this day I have stuffed animals I hug because I get anxious without the physical sensation of hugging after too long. I never seemed to be on quite the same wavelength and would stare people down just randomly, even I didn't really understand why I'd do it but I would just lock eyes with someone and not stop until they told me to. People would openly mock me and it would go over my head because I genuinely thought they were my friends and were being nice (I would get called werewolf due to my messy hair and sharp teeth and I would just smile and say I preferred being a vampire). I wore the same velcro shoes everyday until they wore out and demanded my mom buy the exact same pair. I'd cry whenever someone hurt my feelings even once I turned 10 and 11. I accidentally hurt my friends by punching them or pinching them cause I didn't realize how much I was hurting them until I drew blood or they demanded I stop.

+ Routine: I hate being late. I hate being on time. I have to be 10 minutes early to everything. If I have to be somewhere at 9 and its a 30 minute drive then I have to leave the house at 8 or 8:10. If it hits 8:11 and we aren't on the road I lose it. I cry and panic and I shake like a leaf until my dad starts the car. In elementary if we were even a second late I'd sob uncontrollably and panic. Now I still cry and shake but it's not as bad. I am an avid rule follower even when I know I'm being silly. My friends and I went to an abandoned building and I was anxious that we'd be arrested despite knowing people did it all the time and it was fine. I had to stay at school after hours for a project and I wouldnt stop worrying we'd get caught and expelled even though our teacher said we could. When I was like 8 or 9 I read about how not turning off your heater started fires so every day before I left for school I'd check to make sure the heater and oven were turned off three times each. Even if we'd never turned them on in the first place. I haven't been able to focus in online school without the structure of being physically in school no matter how hard I try. When my dad takes the family places last minute I feel unbearably anxious and out of it, even when I am aware I am overreacting. I have noticed executive disfunction issues in the past and when presented with multiple things I need to do I get overwhelmed and panic and do nothing instead. I hate clutter and in the desire to clean one item I end up deep cleaning everything just because I start one chore then think of another in the process and it spirals from there.

+ Misc: I have always been the sensitive emotional child. My mom frequently teases that I never get her sarcasm. I can't decipher how people feel unless I can hear their voice and see their face which makes texting and to a lesser extent voice calling anxious and weird for me. I actively avoid eye contact with people I don't know well and avoid conversation on elevators or in public spaces. I adore watching slime videos and stim boards are wonderful now that I've discovered them. Math isn't my strong suit because the numbers don't make sense to me- I can't decipher even simple algebra equations but I've always been great at reading and I pride myself on my vocabulary and way with words. Despite this I can't give speeches or explain things to save my life even if I know exactly what I mean and want to say I just cannot verbalize it properly so I have to write down exactly what I want to say before I say it. Even then I ramble too long and my dad frequently notes I can never "get to the point and trim out the unnecessary details" but like- I can't tell which details are necessary or not. I can never be presented a broad piece of information and understand it, I need every minute detail first otherwise I cannot understand the bigger concept and thus when I speak I provide every detail to make my point crystal clear. I also feel uncomfortable around authority figures and adults- way more than seems normal- and avoid eye contact and tend to be especially anxious and respectful because adults and authority figures just scare me.

These are all just like the immediate things that jump into mind + context around them. Idk if these could actually point to me being autistic but if anyone has any advice or help then please let me know. I'm kinda worried I'm being a hypochondriac but that might just be because my dad doesn't believe in autism so I'm internalizing that.

I've had close friends say some of my symptoms seem like anxiety or OCD but the texture based stuff and the fact that I have purposefully tried to stop stimming and fidgeting and have tried to repress my natural behaviors due to being seen as like weird and "off" makes me think maybe it might be autism and I just didn't realize because I assumed everyone dealt with similar things and I just was bad at handling it.

#autism #possibly autistic #asd #autism advice?#plz help i am very worried im overreacting and i dont want to talk to my parents unless im like 100% i have it

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xianglingslesbian · 4 years

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okay so since it’s izuki’s birthday let’s... analyse his character songs and what they say about him! i’ve been wanting to do this post for awhile, and what better day than today?

(shut up, i am not obsessed)

(okay maybe i’m a little obsessed but i mean LOOK AT HIM)

first up is kitakore which you can listen to here!! kitakore is really just a fun hammy song with tons of puns (literally. every line is a pun. it can feel like a punch to the gut. kitakore!). BUT there are still a couple of impactful lines!

Uzagararete mo yamerarenai (English: Even if I get on your nerves, I can’t stop)

i honestly think that this line attests to izuki being neurodivergent in some way. as the amazing Timb @natureismynature expanded on in her fic (which you can read here), izuki’s puns could be a form of verbal stimming that helps calm him down. it’s one of my favourite headcanons that he’s autistic and/or ADHD (the latter being projection, tbh), because yay for neurodivergent characters~

kitakore is sung with a quick tempo and a peppy beat, which adds to the whole relaxed vibe of the song. this is something you could sit and listen to while chilling on the beach, or while scrolling through memes on your phone. it also showcases the VA’s ability to bring out the light edge that’s ever-present in dear izuki’s voice!! nojima’s voice is strong and clear throughout, never faltering as he rattles off pun after pun in time with the music. really perfect for izuki and his love of dajare!

next we have tatta hitotsu no hibi which you can listen to here and. oh. this song really hits you in the meow meow after the playful 2010s boy band sound of kitakore. GOD it just says so much about the kind of person izuki is???

Betsu ni fukan shitai wake ja nai sa / yoyuu mo nai Onaji kurai tomadou kedo / Aah~ (English: It’s not that I want a bird’s-eye view / I don’t have any time to spare But that means I might lose my way in equal measure / Aah~)

izuki’s eyes see too much, sometimes. but if he didn’t have them, he wouldn’t be able to keep up with the rest - even with how much he practices - and that HURTS.

Hagayusa ha tokidoki / mawari mo makikonde Atarashii chikara wo umidasu (English: There were times I got everyone else caught up in my impatience As I tried to invent new strength in myself)

he’s constantly trying to find something, anything, just to stay on the others’ level. and sometimes he pushes too hard and goes too far but... to him, in the end, all that matters is flying to the top with seirin. he doesn’t want to be a burden - in izuki’s eyes, to be a burden to seirin is the worst imaginable thing.

Itsuka nanimokamo ga omoidebanashi ni natte Natsukashii oretachi ga iru ne Ureshikatta koto bakari ja naku tatte Hoka ni ha kangaerarenai / tatta hitotsu no hibi datta Sou omoeru ki ga suru / ima no zutto mirai de (English: Someday, all of this will be nothing but memories And there we’ll be, fondly reminiscing about them They might not all be happy memories But I can’t imagine them any other way / those irreplaceable days I have a feeling that’s what I’ll think, someday way off in the future)

this. just... the sheer fucking wisdom of this...??? keep in mind this kid is literally 17. but these lines so highlight the aspects of izuki’s personality that i love most - his unerring resilience and his ability to look towards the future without wanting to be stuck in the past or present - something i struggle a LOT with. izuki’s always got his head raised, never down, and that’s gorgeous.

tatta hitotsu is very different from kitakore in terms of sound, tempo and range. it’s sung at a lower, softer tone, and is much slower. the background music, while itself soothing and beautiful, truly only serves to accentuate the VA’s voice as he guides you through izuki’s character. the song is smooth, and its more sober tone is perfect for the wisdom izuki’s dropping! nojima’s voice is low but firm; he effortlessly dances across every note, stringing together something that’s heartfelt and gorgeous. the lower pitch really brings out what izuki’s like when he gets serious - calm, but firm and unwavering.

last but not least, challenger spirit (the hyuuizu duet), which you can listen to here!! i love this song so much because tbh it reminds me of everything i love about hyuuizu.

Dual: Oretachi ha chousensha datte / nando demo omoishirou Sonotabi tsuyoku natte kita kara (English: We are the challengers / Let’s never forget that Remembering that fact has helped us grow stronger)

both of them are always pushing each other. they remind each other what it is that they’ve come this far. they have a unique connection, and don’t need to say half the things that others would have to, in order to understand each other!

H: Kuyashisa nara norikoeta / senpai no iji darou I: Shimeshita ijou ni kurai tsuite kureta yo na (English: H: Our regrets? We’ve overcome them / That’s our will as senpai I: They’ve exceeded our expectations and risen to the challenge)

Yume mitaku tookatta yo na Demo naze ka shinjirareta n da Kono chiimu de miru mirai wo Okujou de chikatta mirai wo (English: Dual: Just like a dream, it seemed so distant But somehow, we could believe In the future we see with this team In the future we swore on the roof)

here we see how they both are consistently on the same wavelength. that’s why that final pass happened so perfectly - because it was hyuuga, who izuki had known for so long, loved for so long (read that however you want). because it was hyuuga, and their effortless chemistry made it possible. perhaps i’m overreaching, but... i love them so much.

coming to the song itself - it has a strong beat, but also melodic. like the perfect blend of kitakore and tatta hitotsu! the drum work in the background is truly fantastic. re: the singing, the gentleness within hosoya’s voice jumps out here, whereas nojima dominates the duet. nojima’s voice comes out firmer and stronger, and hosoya is more melodic and goes with the flow. i think their voices blend beautifully - the juxtaposition of izuki’s clear, powerful voice with hyuuga’s gentler, smoother one is just perfect! it also embodies their friendship: though hyuuga seems to be the overpowering presence, they share equal parts, and there are areas where izuki takes charge as seen in this song.

(okay maybe i’m reading too much into it but can you blame me i love them)

and with that we come to the end of this little rant!! hope it made sense haha

#izuki #knb #hyuuga #hyuuizu #izuday #ceru babbles

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 years

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19. What They Deserve

5336 Words, No triggers detected.

People loved to hear about the trials and tribulations of others. That was the core of half of the entertainment sites. Grace didn’t like to put her hurt on display, but she did want to reintroduce herself, or rather, debut the new Grace to the world and she realized that would entail people bringing up her past and/or intruding on her private life.

For instance, people would ask her how her relationship with her parents is…

Grace’s first day out, her mother was in the car whenever she got in. They were driven, in silence back to the estate, where guards were posted for the occasion, in case someone noticed or tried to get in, as they sometimes did. Her room was still the same, but there was someone there to help her pack up her essentials and her pleasures. She was going to be moved to a secure location that people didn’t know about, because her parents didn’t want the family house to be any more of a sideshow that it had been following her institutionalization.

Her mother still had not said anything to her and it took hours for her to go through her personals and decide what she couldn’t live without and see the things that she could live without go into a donations box or a trash bin. “Where are all of my pictures of me and Simon?” she asked, when she opened the designated box for those.

“Surely, you’re joking,” was the first thing her mother said. She tossed the box into the donations. Her father didn’t even show up during this time frame. By the time she was moved into her new home, she had only gotten one word from her mother and none from her father. So, whenever someone asked about them, she would say, “How is everybody’s relationship with their parents? It’s personal. It’s a relationship between one and one or two more people, and their dynamic and their emotions are fluid. The three of us have very different wavelengths and concerns, so my relationship with them is something between me and them and then, my relationship with you all is what’s between me and you.” She’d laugh a little, but after a few times, people got the message.

People would ask her about her mental health - if she was better, what happened in the first place, does she think it could happen again, etc.

Hazel wound up in another facility after a few months with her new foster family (mere weeks before Grace was released). The charm bracelet was sent back to her and for several days, she didn’t know what that meant for Hazel. If she was okay, if she was hurt or worse. They had only told her that they thought that she should have it back, then failed to communicate anything else about Hazel, for legal purposes. Grace was in shambles, until FINALLY she was told that Hazel was fine, but she had a relapse and was “in turtle form” for several days, making them have to take her to a doctor and seeing her file, they committed her for 72 hours. She was fine and heading back home.

When Grace got out and looked her up, she was no longer at the same home. She had been redirected elsewhere… They couldn’t give Grace that information at the time. She thought she would lose her mind trying to contact someone who would be willing to help her out with this information, but most of them informed her that such information was secure for the safety of the child, and she understood it and couldn’t argue with it or convince them that she was more concerned for the safety of this child than anyone. It remained at the forefront of her thoughts.

“I went somewhere to get help. I got help. A lot of people just get bounced around in life and never truly get the help that they need or deserve. I’ve been very fortunate, so I try to focus on that. Some days, I succeed. Some days, I do not succeed. I feel good today.”

They would ask her about new music, what beauty products she used now that she was no longer associated with her old brands, and if she would be dancing again. All things that she still wasn’t completely certain of yet, but lighthearted enough that she didn’t get too stressed out about that line of questioning.

The questions that brought her the most visible displeasure and clear distress were the ones about Simon. What about your relationship with Simon Laurent? Nobody has heard your side of the story. Have you seen or talked to Simon? Are things well between you? Has he forgiven you?…

“I don’t speak about Simon. The most that I can tell you is that I hope he has what he needs and gets everything that he deserves.” They might try to make jokes to prod about what she thinks he deserves, but she generally redirected the conversation. “He deserves what he deserves, and that’s what I hope he gets.” She would smile and nod, but her eyes would be sad. Eventually, people stopped asking her about him. She began posting dance videos, remixes, and songs again. This time, being confident in herself and away from her parents. It was no longer an escape from her life, because her life was lonely, but she was happy with it. There was freedom in her world that she hadn’t imagined in the past. She had more followers than ever before. Some people still called her Apex, but she never put that into any of her bios or captions, herself.

She had a routine that worked for her wellbeing, from the time that she spent in the center, and she still had very regular sessions with her therapist, not to mention a medication regimen that assisted in her wellness.

Anyone who wanted to contact her did so through someone else who would be the go-between, just in case. She moved out of the house that her parents placed her in and found something more suitable for her style, and closer to Julliard, because she still wanted to try to go, if she could make it in. In the meantime, she enjoyed the music scene in New York, branched out to finding new artists that she hadn’t heard of, made a few new friends in the industry, got hired for music videos and song demos. Some days, she expected to wake up and discover that her life had all been a dream. She would wonder if she actually did spend over a year in a mental facility, if she had gotten into some trouble with Simon, if she ever actually had met Simon… He seemed so far away, so long ago and so unfamiliar sometimes. But, whenever he did come back to her, he came flooding back.

Like if somebody casually asked, “You got kids?” and she remembered that while the answer was no, she had gotten pregnant at 16 and was so stressed out, that she hadn’t noticed for several weeks that her body was behaving differently, and that she spent several more trying to figure out what she would say, what she would do, how she would handle this. “No, no kids. But, I did have to make a decision to terminate a pregnancy when I was younger.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. There’s a stigma about it, but it was something that was best for me and I don’t harbor anger or disgust with myself about it.” Then, she could remember Simon’s eyes, his hands, other parts of him, the way that he held her, the things he had said to her. She would have to try not to cry and if she did, be totally honest, “Sorry. I haven’t really thought about the guy in a while, and I’m just in my feelings, Don’t mind me.” She didn’t like to lie, if she could help it. She tried to be as honest as she could these days, without saying too much. But, she had a pretty good crew in NY. They always were understanding and if someone said something, they’d gather them up pretty quickly. Her therapist told her that friends do things like that. It made her feel bad. She thought that friends shared everything, and since she was still very closed off to these people, she didn’t really consider them to be friends of hers, just associates that she really liked.

“That can be considered friendship, too. You don’t have to tell every friend that you have your life story and every person who you share mutual connection and kindness with isn’t going to be your lifetime bestie. Just enjoy the company of people who make you feel good and let the people who you make feel good enjoy your company.” That’s what she did.

She got into Julliard when she was 20 and she was pretty known in the music scene by the time she was 21. Grateful that she had been able to finish high school in the institution and happy that she hadn’t gotten so comfortable that she was afraid to get better and leave there. Because, she was living a life that she had always wanted, and whether or not she deserved to, she told herself that she did and she was sure to enjoy it.

That bitch was trying to ruin him! Simon could hardly catch his breath as he paced outside of the hearing for his academic integrity. She’s just mad that you’ve done BETTER than she has, with her work!

It was one thing when she was taking her bitterness out on you, telling you that your weapon failed to meet the requirements of the assignment, even though it was theoretically FLAWLESS. The CIA spoke with you about your plans for this weapon! But her? She told you to stick to something that your “childlike little mind” could actually comprehend the endgame of. “How about your little robot figures?” she’d taunted.

Other students had laughed. LAUGHED! His project was miles ahead of everyone in that class, and her tone was disrespectful and condescending! “I haven’t had a childlike thought in my mind since I was 10, you old bitch!” It just stumbled from his lips. She frowned at him and demanded an apology to her and to the rest of the class. He snatched his presentation supplies and stormed off. He’d be damned if he apologized for her antagonizing him! He heard a few more laughs and he knocked the items off of her podium on his way out. He knew that couldn’t work out well… at least in hindsight, he did. In the moment, all he knew was rage.

He even sent her an email apologizing to her and the class and offering to replace anything that he damaged in his outburst. She had only replied to him not to return to her class until further notice. But… he needed her class. It would throw off his entire educational trajectory not to be able to come to her class! Even for a few days!! He was almost ready to grovel. Almost. That would be too much like showing weakness. He apologized, what more could she want.

So, Simon filed a complaint on her, accusing her of being combative, rude, and making her classes toxic environments. Now, the Committee on Discipline was meeting to look over all of the details of her complaint.

“I truly wanted to give young Mr. Laurent a moment to think about his actions in the classroom and to realize the err of his ways. His complaint against me during this time, being both unfounded and untrue, caused me to have to rethink my decision. I don’t think that Simon Laurent is capable of the behavioral status that we require of students here. I don’t think that he has the temperance for all of the criticisms his flights of fancy are sure to get over the course of his career. I gave him the option to try another avenue for the assignment, as his assignment, while a very significant project did. Not. meet. The. requirements. Of. the. Assignment. He needed to be able to give us a small demonstration. His project was a weapon. He could only grant me a simulation and that is not what I asked for. Telling him this incited him to rage in which he disrespected myself and his peers, disrupting the classroom with his antics. Like a child, throwing a tantrum.”

Even then, his face was looking like all he wanted was to murder her right then and there. When the committee allowed him to speak, he changed his tune. He was calm and even voiced. “Professor Hughes made a lot of points about me and my particular struggles when it comes to being disregarded. I did respond angrily and I know that it was wrong of me to react the way that I did. That’s why I sent her an apology after I had the chance to cool down. But, she didn’t decide to turn me into the committee until after I filed a complaint on her for even bringing me to the point that I had such a meltdown in her classroom in the first place!” Amelia frowned and members of the committee shared various facial expressions.

Simon looked directly at her and said, “I’ve been a long time fan of your work and your accomplishments. I specifically fought to be in your classroom because of the way that I regard everything that you’ve done throughout your career and I just wanted the privilege to be able to learn from you. But, you’re very unkind. You make people feel bad. You don’t think about the things that you say to people and how those things might affect them. You didn’t even care about my psychological makeup until you could use it against me in these proceedings. You humiliate people in front of others and you don’t even break a sweat.”

“This is not my hearing, Mr. Laurent.”

“But, it matters to this hearing, because I never would have reacted that way if you weren’t being so abrasive.”

“That is a word that men like to use against me whenever I meet them with the very same energy that they put out. I’ve been called worse. By professors, colleagues, and for over 30 years my own psychological settings came into play whenever a discussion was to be had about me. This isn’t about your mental disposition. It’s about your behavior. Your angry and hostile behavior at any old sign of criticism!”

“Professor Hughes,” one of the committee members said. She went silent.

Simon proceeded, “I know that I’m not good at handling criticism, especially coming from a woman. My mother was… difficult to communicate with and the only other woman I was close to…” His eyes grew damp. “I’m sorry. My education means a lot to me and I’ll do anything to stay here.” He rushed out of the chambers, covering his face as he did. Amelia pulled herself up to go check on him. He was in the waiting section, in a seat in the corner with his back to the wall, still covering his crying face. She took a deep breath, grabbed a seat and sat next to him.

“There’s not a person in that room who isn’t familiar with the hardships you had to face in order to get here. We know about your family. We know about your abuse.” He wiped his face and glared at nothing in particular. “We also know how smart you are. You were able to get into this school based upon your intelligence. Nobody is doubting that you are capable of doing great work. I wasn’t even implying that I hated your work that day. But, it wasn’t the proper assignment, Simon. I needed you to give me one thing, you not only gave me another, but you refused to even consider that what you were trying to give me was impossible to meet my requirements. Then, you got angry because you had refused to listen to me in the first place. Now, I admit… I’m not the most courteous member of staff at this institute. I can be…”

“Bitchy.”

“Unapologetic.” She chuckled. “Let me tell you, I know how it is to be in a room full of people who underestimate you and make you feel like you shouldn’t be in the room. There wasn’t much respect for female engineers in my day and there’s not a proper amount even now if you ask me. Half of this staff is composed of pretentious, pompous, puffed up paragons, and it takes next to nothing for anybody outside of their ideals to be met with disdain. What you did, by reporting me was to make me a target. I disagree with your evaluation of me and I can’t tell if it came from a place of genuine thought or retaliation, but you can’t be trusted to continue your education here unless you are willing to listen to others, especially those of us who are trying to help to teach you!”

He wiped his eyes with his sleeves. “They’re gonna kick me out. It’ll look bad on me, and all of my research and work from the past two years might not even matter anymore…”

“That doesn’t have to happen, Simon. Listen… I think you’re brilliant. I am willing to vouch for you this time, under the circumstances that you see someone about getting professional help for your responses to adversity.”

“You… want me to see a shrink.?”

“I think you could benefit from getting mental healthcare and I don’t want you in any classroom of mine unless you do.”

He shivered. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She went back in to explain this to the committee and he went through the campus counselors, hating most of them whenever he met with them, switching every time he didn’t like something about one of them, making very little progress, but still fulfilling the deal he made with the committee, for a time. He and Professor Hughes bickered a lot, but he had kept his temper in check whenever she aggravated him, and he eventually settled on a counselor that he didn’t completely hate, too.

He’d always come in, not at all wanting to speak to them. He tossed some books on the table and said, “That’s my dream journal, my intrusive thoughts notebook, and the standard journal. Look through them and then tell me whatever you need to tell me for me to get my paperwork signed off on.”

The man pushed the books back to him and said, “I’m not going to read those, but you’re free to talk about anything that you’ve written in them to me. Let’s start there.”

Simon flopped into the seat and rolled his eyes, “There’s nothing in these that I want to talk about. That’s why I wrote them in here. You’re the brain person. The information gets to you whether you read it or I say it.”

“Okay. Well, let’s see what the first entry is in this one…” He picked up the standard journal and read out loud, “I saw that they let the void out into the world again… What’s the void, Simon?”

Simon turned red and didn’t answer. After a while, the man continued reading, “It didn’t look like Grace. It was beautiful like her, but it looked older, which makes sense, because it was gone a while, and now it’s back…”

Simon snatched the book from his hand and stuffed it into his backpack. “This was a bad idea. I’m not here to talk about or hear about the void.”

“I don’t know what the void is, but you wrote about it, so I’m inclined to believe that you think about it.”

“I’ve seen it!” Simon snapped pounding his fist on the desk. He took a deep breath. “I had a vision, at least I thought it was a vision. Whenever I was 16, when I was with my ex… we weren’t together for a long time, not that way. We were friends, first. We were friends for a long time, but I always loved her. I loved her before she even knew herself. I loved her with all of my heart.” He picked at his forearms where his tally marks were. “She just saw me as a friend, even though it was obvious that we should be together. Maybe I pushed too hard. Should’ve just left well enough alone. I had to have her and what I got was something else. She wasn’t the same. That wasn’t the girl I loved and I didn’t know it until I saw this… vision that I call the void. It came out of her, it engulfed her and consumed her and it took her place.”

“In a dream?”

“I’m not crazy.”

“I would never use that word to describe anyone.”

“I’m not whatever word you would use for crazy people! I know that it wasn’t real. But, I saw it and I knew that it was what replaced my friend. I hated it for taking her away, and I hated her for letting it. The void was just a way of dealing with the separation. I omitted everything connected to it from my life.”

“You voided her out.”

“Yeah. The person who looks like my friend got out of a mental institution a while back. That’s what that entry was about.”

“Do you honestly feel like the person who you saw is a different person than the one that you used to love? Do you believe that this void that you saw replaced her and that the entity you refer to as the void is now existing in the form of your friend?”

“What? No. I’m not crazy!”

“I’m asking you if when you refer to your ex as The Void, is that because you don’t see them as the human that you knew or because you have purposefully reduced them to something subhuman?”

“What difference does that make?”

“One would be purposeful dehumanization of someone you didn’t like and the other would be out of your control.”

“Nothing is out of my control,” Simon said.

“Some things have to be, Simon. Like the fact that you don’t want to be here, but the school is making you in order for you to remain enrolled. You can’t control everything, not even everything in your life. But, just because you can’t control everything, that doesn’t mean that you don’t control anything. So… Did you force this dehumanized version of this girl into your mind, or was it something out of your control?”

“I… I created it. I didn’t want to see the person that I needed turn away from me, so I imagined her as something else.” The man just nodded. “But, she made me do it! She was going to…” he shook his head. He couldn’t think of what it was that Grace had done that was so wrong. He needed to think back, remember the pain she caused him. Remember the damage she was willing to inflict… but, he felt like he was grasping. There had to be some reason. He couldn’t believe that he spent close to what 4 years now hating her for something that she didn’t actually do… No! She definitely was going to hurt him more than anyone ever had. “You had to know her. You had to know who she was to know what she could do to me.”

“I looked her up. She recently gave an interview about you. I can send you the link, if you haven’t seen it and are interested.”

“Grace did an interview about me?” He shook his head, “Whatever she said, she’s lying! It didn’t happen that way!”

“Simon… why don’t you do this… See if you can handle what she has to say and we can speak about how it made you feel next time."

Simon left pretty upset. An interview? She hadn’t had anything to say all of this time. Why now? Was this some sort of reckoning against him? He waited until he got home, glanced around him at all of the destruction he’d caused in the past but few weeks. He had been enraged so frequently that he couldn’t even see his floor.

But, he couldn’t rush into this. First, he picked up his mess, put things away, discarded what needed to be thrown out thanks to his destructive anger, and washed up for the night. No working on any projects or hobbies. Nothing that he loved or cared about in the event that this interview pissed him off. He let his hair fall and grabbed his phone. They were easier to replace than laptops. You could STOP raging when you get mad… Yeah right. And risk doing it at school again? They’d put me out for sure.

He opened the link and the first thing he saw was Shana’s face. "This is already a bad start."

"Hey Shady Kindred! Welcome to Shady Shana’s Dish, where we partake of both relevant and ratchet news. I’m your host, Shady Shana and today, I have a very special guest. My… frenemy turned… friendly associate?"

Grace laughed. It sounded like music to Simon, even though he glared at her. "Let’s.. just say associate.”

“OOF. Shade. Okay, well… classmates, former classmates, at the very least. This is Grace Monroe. I think my audience would definitely know you. From your videos and songs and stuff. But, let me dish this out, I saw homegirl perform live in NYC, and this bitch had a cello. Okay? A cello! She was singing some opera stuff.”

“I don’t sing opera!”

“She was hitting high notes, this kinda alluring witch noise… you sounded like those tuning things, but like high-pitched… you had to be there. Just… check out her page. I’ll have her links in the description. She’s working on music, putting stuff out all of the time and also attending Julliard. Many talents, very beautiful, sweet, when she wants to be… But, we’re actually here to dish about something that Girlfriend hasn’t talked to anybody about in a long time. Mr. Simon Laurent.” Shana exaggerated how French she said his name and had a look of disgust when she did.

He rewound to see Grace’s reaction. She nodded. She had prepared herself for this. She didn’t look angry or grossed out. Faking. Lies…

“Yes. I agreed to sit down with you in your really nice little studio here and talk about how I feel about Simon.”

“And just to let you messy ones at home know, we will not be speaking about the old school stuff. Grace was nice enough to give me an exclusive about her current day, so if you came to see what she wanted to say about the old stuff, this will not be the place. What he did do, didn’t do, how he done it, naw! None of that! So, I guess, my first question about it is how would you describe your current feelings about Simon Laurent?”

Grace laughed nervously, licked her teeth, sputtered out air (Simon hadn’t heard that sound in so long), and she shook her head, “It’s a loaded question. Ummm… I can’t say that I really have feelings about Simon. I have memories. I know that we were virtually inseparable for a long time. I know in my mind who I thought he was to me when we were younger, but, none of that has had any real bearing on my life in a while.”

“You don’t think about him or nothin?"

"I mean… I’ve thought about him, but no, not like actively. It’s not a part of my day. It’s more like an occasional experience, when something triggers it or… even sometimes, it’ll be put of nowhere, but just not often. I don’t even know what Simon looks like right now. If you were to trick me and have him backstage or whatever and he came out here right now, Girl - it might take me a moment to recognize him.” Simon felt himself trembling. She didn’t even check up on him? She didn’t want to know? Of course she didn’t! She didn’t care about him..

Shana laughed. “Well, not to be messy…” was her trademark line for when she was about to say something really messy, “Sounds like he’s basically become, what did you two used to call those mediocre types? Non-essential!” Grace’s lip dropped and she titled her head and squinched her face, “Well…” she said in a high pitch, “I… he’s not present. He isn’t part of my life. He detached himself from my life, and I had to learn to move on and now, there’s simply no attachments. Like, if I ran into him, no, I might not know him right away, but the moment I realize, I’m sure I’d be overcome with emotions. I couldn’t tell you how I’d react.”

“Would you uppercut his ass?” Grace cackled and covered her face. “I mean.. if anybody deserves it…”

“I don’t think I’d uppercut his ass, as you so eloquently put it. I think… I’d check to see how he’s feeling. How he’s doing. If he’s found his peace now that I’m not there to affect anything. If he’s better off without me, like he figured he’d be.”

“Sooo… if I can get you two in a room, you wouldn’t even lay hands on him?”

“I… remember what happened. I remember how it felt. I remember pain. But, since then, I’ve learned empathy. I’ve learned pacifism. I’ve learned healing. So, it’s not that I’ve forgotten how hard that time was, but I’ve forgiven everything and I’d just be curious if he had forgiven things too.”

“Whooooooooooo,” Shana let our a long deep breath, “You are better than me. Because if I see him, it’s hands on sight. He’d better not have his head turned. I’ll bust him right in his neck vein."

Grace laughed and shook her head, waving her hands, "I do not share in this sentiment. If you are a Simon stan, do NOT message me. I didn’t say anything bad about this man.”

“Which surprises me, because I know YOU won’t say anything about this, but I’ll say this and I’ve said this to him, as well… I still think that a lot of the things said about you were not true and a lot of the things done to you were just something that basically the lowest form of scum would do to someone. Something a… girl, I’m reaching back for this terminology… it was some… null type shit. Somebody less than zero would do that kind of thing, to anyone, much less someone that they cared about.”

“Well… I can’t speak for him, but you know… maybe he didn’t care about me as much as he seemed to… maybe these things are things you do to people you hate and maybe that’s what it was always gonna be with us. That’s why I would ask him how he’s doing. Maybe he was tired of being stuck around somebody he resented. I don’t know. But, I’ll always value any type of growth that I have. And if nothing else, Simon was definitely a harbinger of growth in my life.”

Simon didn’t realize that he was crying. Shana and Grace wrapped up the show and it went off with some music video that they worked on with a little girl. He didn’t watch it… his vision was too blurry. But he heard the song asking “Where would you be, without me?” And he couldn’t help but feel attacked. But, he closed out the video. If she wanted to see him and ask him how he was doing, sure… he could make that happen…

#If They Didn't Get on the Train #AU Infinity Train #Infinity Train #Nesha Fanfiction #Infinity Train Fanfiction #fics

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sunsetinmyvein · 4 years

Text

I Know That I’ll Lose - Chapter Nine - My Irregular Heartbeat

They finally had a full break day between two shows in the same city. It had taken five weeks to get one, but now it was here at least. However, Y/N/N knew better than to assume this break day would actually be used for something crazy like a break. No, of course not. Because knowing Matty, it was not a surprise at all that he dragged the band to a nearby studio he had heard about to try and smash out this idea that had been stuck in his head for a few days now. They all seemed more than happy enough to follow him on this endeavour, and watching them work as such a cohesive unit was very interesting. It was easily apparent that they had been together for so long, because they could practically read each other’s minds. Before George had even finished his sentence on the idea he had, Adam was already playing it, or Ross was already trying to fine-tune the melody. The four of them all worked on the same wavelength. She supposed that was just a part of working together for as long as they had. But maybe that was also why they had worked together for as long as they had, because they understood each other.

“Matty, we’re gonna record a few bits. Did you have lyrics in mind?” George asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Sort of. I’ll go check what I had written down.” He nodded, picking up his guitar and strolling out of the recording room and into another section of the studio. She had figured that there was no point in hanging around only to potentially interrupt the other boys’ recordings, so she followed him out to wherever he was headed.

He led her through the halls down into a small studio space with a desk at one end and a few couches at the other, not seeming to mind that she had followed. This seemed more like a track editing room than anything else. Matty sat himself down in the desk chair in the studio, pulling his guitar onto his lap. His notebook that she frequently saw him with was placed on the desk in front of him. He played the same melody that she had heard them go over numerous times in the recording area, making sure that it was fresh in his mind. Every now and again in between the melodies he glanced at his open notebook lying on the desk, sometimes scribbling something or crossing something out. A small smile was playing on his lips as he tried to get the rhythm of the words in line with what he was going for. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to recreate something he already had in mind or write something entirely new, but either way he seemed completely engrossed in it. This was the sort of moment where she would’ve admitted she had feelings for him if he asked - the sort of moment when she could be caught off guard enough by the genuine nature of the situation to tell the truth. A moment like this when it was just the two of them without the jokes, without the front Matty put up sometimes, a moment seemingly without the bet. Him just being himself and not trying to impress or be something else. But this wasn’t the Matty that was about to press her for confirmation on something that he already knew. Because at this current point, he didn’t want to play that game. He didn’t need to. He was comfortable in this instant with how things were. And she just wanted the peacefulness of it all to remain for a bit longer, so she wasn’t exactly about to throw a spanner in the works and fuck it all up by telling him.

It was a good while before he was knocked out of the trance that he was in and looked across the room at her. He’d been so far down the rabbit hole of his own creativity that he had forgotten that there was another person in the room with him. For how much time had passed, he had figured that she might’ve been waiting patiently to ask him how long was going to be left, but she just stared back at him with a neutral expression. “You’ve been rather quiet.” He stated, scrawling a quick line down in his notebook.

“Would you rather I interrupt you while you’re trying to write a song?” She asked in confusion.

“I mean… you’re welcome to.” He offered.

“How do you write your lyrics?” She asked, eyeing the pages he kept glancing towards.

He pondered on the question for a moment. “Typically, I write to fit the rhythm of the song first and foremost. Like we had the tune for It’s Not Living before we had the lyrics and I wrote around that. But usually I just imagine a real situation, I amplify it, I make it slightly more romantic and idealistic, and I write about it. That search of trying to find something that makes me truly happy, of being on that precipice of finding it, is a lot of what my music is made up of.” He explained. She just gave a small nod in response. He waited for her to add something else, or ask something else, but she didn’t, she just watched him. “What?” He asked eventually with a frown.

“It’s just nice watching you do what you do best and seeing you so content.” She admitted with a shrug. “It’s rare to see you not being all cocky and loud.”

He gave a quiet laugh at that, adjusting the capo a fret down on the neck of his guitar. “You know full well that all that’s just an act.” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise at his blunt honesty. Maybe the genuine vibes in the room were not one-sided. “It’s a self-defence mechanism. If I act like I am those things, then it’s easier to not fall back on the more negative shit.”

“But song writing is a really important thing in my life.” He continued, “I’d kill myself without music. Immediately. Life is pointless without music for me.” He paused for a moment, but she knew better by this stage in their friendship than to try and interject when he was following a train of thought. “If you think about it, the first time that you learn about something - like a first kiss, for example - is through cinema. It looks beautiful and it’s soundtracked. That’s very important.” He looked up at her, giving her a pointed look for emphasis. “I remember the first time I went to kiss a girl, the first thing that I was aware of was that there was no music playing. And I didn’t like that.” He frowned at the memory, before glancing down at his guitar and starting the riff over again. It had a very different feel to it than the other songs that they’d put out from Notes. The melody and style of guitar he was playing almost reminded her of Chocolate. “Music doesn’t exist physically. Yet it commands every facet of my personality. It has the power to command people how to feel - music can command someone how to feel on an emotional level uncontrollably. I just find that so fascinating.” He mused. A soft knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts.

“How’d you go Matt?” George asked as he popped his head in through the door.

“I think I have some decent stuff.” He smiled with a nod in his friends’ direction as he handed over his notebook.

The five of them regrouped in the recording area, playing over what they had tracked to make sure they were happy with it before Matty pitched a few of the lyrical ideas he had gotten together. It was interesting to listen in as the song took shape. Once everyone was satisfied that they were heading in the right direction, they packed away their gear for the day.

“Congrats on a job well done, boys.” George grinned as they stepped out onto the street. “Should we put the gear away and grab a drink to reward ourselves?” He suggested as he started heading in the direction of their buses. Thankfully for his arms- shoulders- back, he hadn’t had to set up his entire kit, just the elements of it that were unique to his setup.

“That sounds like a good plan.” Ross agreed. Once everything was packed away safely, they trekked to the nearest pub for an afternoon drink. Matty and Y/N/N took a seat up at the bar to sort out drinks for the group, while the other three found themselves a table to settle in at. The bartender who came over to serve the two of them seemed to have been having a dull day, because Matty noticed that as opposed to taking any orders, all he wanted to do was yap on about everything except alcohol. ‘How’s your day been?’ ‘Where are you from?’ ‘What do you do?’ He knew that a Tuesday afternoon probably wasn’t a very busy time for a pub, but he wasn’t there to share his life story. And it didn’t help that despite his best attempt to usher things along and get his hard-earned drink, his present company was indulging this stranger.

He didn’t like how chatty this guy was being with her, and more importantly how chatty she was being with him. The feeling of it sat weirdly in his chest and made him feel like the third wheel when celebrating his own achievement. He only had a limited amount time left if he was going to get her to fess up. Only a week left of the tour before they went back to their respective homes. Allowing her to flirt with bartenders was only going to hinder that. So, in an attempt to bring her thoughts back to where he wanted them, and perhaps to get a rise out of her, in the middle of their conversation he nonchalantly took her hand that had been sitting on top of the bar in his. There was a pause in her sentence as he did this while she tried to work out what he was playing at. She looked down at their hands in confusion, glancing over to Matty only to see him still scrolling through his phone resting in his other hand. They’d never held hands before, and this certainly didn’t seem like the time or place to suddenly start doing that. But despite this, the plan had worked in his favour.

“I, uh,” The bartended cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’ll go get those drinks, then.” He nodded. As soon as he walked away to get their drinks, Matty released her hand which she promptly pulled in closer to herself.

“The hell was that for?” She asked with a frown as soon as the bartender was out of earshot.

“What?” He asked without looking away from his phone.

“That.” She repeated as she waved the hand in question in his direction to catch his attention.

“Oh.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket, finally turning to look at her. “I just felt like maybe you’d be wanting to get back to the guys to-”

“What gave you the impression that I’d want that?” She interrupted with a frown.

“I’d like to think I know a thing or two about your wants and desires.” Normally him saying something like that would’ve tripped her up, would’ve forced her to think carefully about what her next move was. It usually would’ve ticked the right boxes of flirty and self-assured. But the juxtaposition between this Matty and the one that she’d seen no more than an hour ago in the studio was too startling. To go from genuine to cocky so quickly, the 180 practically gave her whiplash. And thinking that he had the right to make that call on her behalf, even if she was just being friendly and patient with the bartender? If he was chasing a reaction out of her, he was certainly about to get one.

“You don’t know what I want.” She fired at him. The tone in her voice hadn’t been what he was expecting, but it didn’t click until it was too late.

“I think I do.” He shot back. She could tell that he was trying to work that lilt of electric confidence into his tone, but that wasn’t going to work. He’d already said more than enough. Those four words pushed her over the edge. She’d felt like maybe Matty was getting somewhere with being an overall more sincere person to be around, but it turned out that he was still pulling the same shit as what he was months ago to get attention.

“It’s entirely unfair of you to decide what I want when you don’t even know what you want.” She spat back, the venom thick in her tone as she pushed herself back from the bar and headed towards the bathroom.

Oh no. Again. He had gone and fucked it up again. He had been doing so well and now the pieces of his plan quickly shattered around him. He was fucking up one of the best friendships he’d ever had, all for a brief attempt at attention seeking. Fuck. He pulled a hand through his hair in frustration as he tried to think of a quick and easy way to backtrack – but there was no rewind for this. There was no rewind to fix those times when his egotistical impulsiveness shone through. What had seemed like a good idea only left him feeling worse. One negative feeling had just been replaced by a far stronger one. What was worse, was that he’d also roped her into his never-ending cycle of feeling shitty. He approached his friends sitting at their table towards the back of the bar, hoping that maybe they could offer some insight into how he could fix this.

“Guys, I-”

“Sort it out.” George interrupted, not caring to hear Matty go on a fifteen-minute-long explanation of whatever he’d done wrong. He’d seen Y/N/N walk away from the bar in a huff, and she gave that boy endless chances for whatever reason. To make her leave, Matty must’ve been a proper wanker.

“But-”

“You did it, you fix it.” He said with a dismissive hand wave. Ross and Adam just threw him apologetic looks, not overly wanting to get involved either.

Their time at the bar had, unsurprisingly, come to an abrupt close after that. Once they’d finished their first round in a state of awkward chit chat, everyone seemed in mutual agreement that it was time to go. Matty mostly remained in his own head as he drank, trying to think of how to make up for what he’d done, and if he wasn’t gonna talk about it, neither was she. Once they left the bar, they headed back to their hotel that had been booked for the night. A minor perk of having more than one show in a single city, other than potential days off, was that they didn’t have to stay on the bus. This was a huge relief to George, Ross and Adam as they all struggled to fit comfortably in bus bunks. Pretty much as soon as she had closed her hotel room door behind her, she’d received a text from the offending frontman. Part of her wanted to ignore it, but morbid curiosity got the better of her.

5:23pm Will you be free in an hour?

5:24pm Why?

5:26pm Room 406

5:26pm What makes you think that I’m free?

5:30pm Are you saying that you’re not?

5:35pm Room 406 in an hour

Against her better judgement, she begrudgingly did as requested and went to his room for six thirty. Despite that she was still mad at him for being such an ass, at the end of the day he was her friend and she didn’t want to end this time with him feeling resentful. As she reached out to knock on his door, she saw that it was slightly ajar. She pushed it open, calling out his name as she took a few cautious steps inside. The standard hotel room couch that was against the far wall in her room had been dragged over to be in front of the TV, the duvet was pulled off of the bed and draped over the back of it, and there was a bowl of popcorn sitting on the TV unit. “What is this?” She asked as her brows furrowed in confusion. An all too familiar curly mop of hair stuck its head around the corner as she said that.

“This… is me trying to make up for being a bit of a knob earlier.” He explained, making his way over to the other side of the couch. “I know that I took a genuine thing and twisted it into something insincere and selfish. I thought that we could pull a movie up on the telly and maybe have a couple of drinks? Quiet night in. Just us.” He offered.

“Well, the movie sounds okay, I guess.” She started as she looked at the selection screen that he’d already pulled up on the TV. “But I think I’m over drinking for today.”

“That’s, erm, fair enough,” He nodded. In hindsight, he probably could’ve predicted that. But he’d been a bit roped up during the last hour trying to think of what best to say. Not that he’d made much progress on that front, either. “Sorry, I make excuses to drink when I’m nervous.” He added sheepishly as he scratched at the back of his neck.

She watched him with curiosity as he took a seat on the couch, motioning for her to sit down next to him. A few moments passed as she considered the offer. How fast he was jumping from sincere to arrogant today was unsettling. She felt like she was going around in circles in her head. “No funny business. I promise.” He said, holding his hand over his heart for emphasis.

She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to scope out if he was telling the truth. “Okay…” She eventually conceded as she sat down. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side as he started scrolling through movie options. At first, she went to move back from him. Experience, and forewarning from Adam, probably should’ve been enough to stop her from falling too much into this. But… She had to admit that it was pretty cold this time of year, and Matty was pretty damn warm. And it was nice. It was nice that he was trying to make up for his shitty actions with kind ones. It was nice that he had made an effort to try and cover up his usual smell of cigarette smoke and weed with hotel room soap, even if it didn’t quite do the trick. Spending time with just him was nice. The companionship, minus the bullshit and the charade they had going on sometimes, was sorely needed for the both of them. It had been quite a while since Matty had someone in his life that he could be like this with and he didn’t want to fuck that up. He supposed that the guys probably wouldn’t complain if he did it to them, but that wouldn’t really give the same effect. This felt comforting. It melted her resolve for being mad at him, and steeled his about how much time he wanted to spend around her. But he avoided thinking about the warm feeling in his chest too much. At the moment, he was trying to be apologetic and genuine. And this moment - this moment of the two of them sitting on the couch in quiet discussion over what movie to kill their time with - he suddenly realised was about as genuine as he had felt in a long time.

For once it wasn’t fake, or a staged situation that he had fabricated to work in his favour. It was real. Which should have been worrying. Past Matthew Healy would’ve either needed to put up false pretenses to feel in control or would’ve just straight up escaped from it. But this felt strangely like where he was meant to be. He wasn’t entirely sure when he started feeling like he was past that point in his life. That point where he moped around, being depressed and dwelling on past mistakes that he couldn’t fix. Altering situations until he felt in control of them. Where he spent 90% of his time putting up a front so that people didn’t constantly ask him how he was doing and then he had to think about how he was doing. But somewhere along the lines in the last few months, he had stopped having that dread that he wasn’t doing the correct thing. That he had fucked something up, or was on the verge of it. He felt like maybe he was finally… on the right track? He glanced at the girl sitting next to him. Maybe the company had done him a lot better than he expected it to. He had hoped it would be enough of a distraction that he could at least not think about his depressed state of mind for a little while. What he hadn’t anticipated was that the company would pull him out of that state of mind entirely. The sudden realisation that he was actually doing okay these days was quite surprising.

“Are you gonna pick a movie?” She asked as she looked up at him, only to catch him looking back at her instead of at the TV. “What?”

“Thanks.” He blurted out.

“For?” She frowned.

“Hanging out with this loser for a whole tour.” He answered with a chuckle. “You didn’t have to come out here. You don’t have to put up with me like you do. I know I said it once before, but company makes things a lot easier for me. Five weeks with you…” He paused, actually looking somewhat… embarrassed? “It’s done me a lot of good, I think.” He finally admitted.

He really was taking this attempt at making up for being a dickhead earlier seriously. “It’s, uh,” She cleared her throat to try and regain her mental composure. “It was in my best interests to take up the offer. So, it’s really nothing.”

“Not to me, it’s not.” He replied casually. He dropped the subject after that, turning his attention back to what movie they were meant to be watching. The two of them settled into a comfortable silence, happy to let the atmosphere between them speak for itself. Hearing his steady heartbeat as she leaned into him was like a metronome, like white noise, the sound of it was enough to stabilise her thoughts after such a chaotic day. It wasn’t long before the two of them passed out. She’d woken up eventually to see the TV that they had fallen asleep watching still playing. Matty’s arm was also still draped around her waist, though the two of them had slid quite a bit further down the couch than how they were originally sitting. After some careful shuffling to retrieve her phone without disturbing him, she discovered that it was nearly two in the morning. It was probably in her best interests to move over to an actual bed instead of spending the night on a hotel room couch. Work for the show tomorrow would be difficult if she couldn’t bend her neck to the left. She started to sit up, pulling herself up on the couch slightly and moving to swing her legs over the side. But she was quickly stopped in her tracks when a deep voice broke the silence.

“Stay.” She heard Matty mumble quietly as his arm tightened around her. She was unsure that she’d heard him right. “Please.” He added, just above a whisper. Had she not been looking right at him as he said it, she would’ve missed it. She was still rather tired, and the couch was pretty comfortable. Who was she to deny him such a simple request?

* * *

Matty woke up the next morning with a hell of a stiff neck and a feeling that he desperately needed to crack his left knee, but he somehow felt more well rested than what he had in months. The fogginess slowly cleared from his brain as his eyes refocused on the TV in front of him. But before he had the chance to stretch out his aching limbs, Y/N/N beat him to the punch and sat up, reaching her arms up above her head with a loud yawn.

“I’m sorry, about yesterday.” He muttered; his voice still hoarse with sleep.

“I know,” She nodded as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “I’m sorry, too.” She added, flashing a small smile in his direction. The band had a show later that day, but Matty was pretty sure that he had an interview in the next couple of hours.

“I have to start getting ready.” He sighed, sitting up slightly on the couch. “I’ve got somewhere to be before midday.”

“Well, thank you for last night.” She said as she watched him stand up.

“It’s cool.” He shrugged. “I’m gonna go back to being a flirtatious piece of shit now, okay? But not a dickhead.” He punctuated that last point with a serious look. She just stared at him, waiting for him to continue. “It’s easier.” He shrugged. Easier than what? But there wasn’t much time to ponder that, because he made short work of getting ready and when left to her own devices it only made sense for her to head back to her own room to do the same. By ten that morning Matty was on his way to his interview, and the other four members of their posse found a nice café nearby to have breakfast in.

Y/N/N found herself sat at a small table in said café with George, watching quietly as he fiddled around on his laptop. Adam and Ross had elected to kill some time in the record store next door, having already eaten this morning. But this was of no worry to them, because it was always nice to hang out with George one on one. He had such a down to earth personality and he was exceedingly good at keeping those around him calm and level-headed. However, at the moment she could see the concentration and slight stress in his features as he tried to wrap his head around what he was working on.

“How’s the track going?” She asked after a few moments.

“It’s… going.” He laughed as he took a sip of his coffee. “I’m piecing together those bits we recorded yesterday. Slow but sure progress.” He nodded.

“How’s it sounding?” She clarified. He shuffled around the table slightly so that she could get a view of the screen.

“Why don’t you tell me?” He asked as he slipped the headset off and handed it to her. “I’m trying to sort out a few of the production kinks. So, what do you reckon, this?” He played a snippet of the track. She listened carefully, trying to pick up the nuances of it. It sounded good. “Or this?” He played the same snippet again but she could hear a few minor changes this time. But to determine the exact differences was hard. It reminded her of being at an eye exam when the optometrist asked you if you preferred slide one or slide two and to you, they felt more or less the same.

“I, uh…” She handed the headset back as she tried to think of a reasonable response. It was a struggle to try and give him a straight answer. “They’re both good?” She eventually offered. “I’m sorry, I’m probably not the person to ask.” She added with a laugh.

“It’s all right.” He chuckled. “I’ll get the boys to look over it with me later.” He said with a shrug as a waiter brought their meals over. It was as good a time as any for a break, so he shut his laptop and left that work for later.

With the rest of the band busy enjoying their late breakfast at the café, Matty had been forced out to a one on one interview at some local venue. It bothered him every now and again that certain interviewers only ever wanted to chat to him, and not the whole band. After all, he’d be nowhere if not for them. He wished that he could get away with being the quiet one, the one who just got to sit there and zone out. But he’d signed his fate in this band long ago. Everyone knew by now that he was the charismatic loud mouth who had all the answers (or just talked until people forgot the original question). So, he made himself somewhat presentable and went out to the theatre that the interviewer wanted to meet him at. It was set to be a quick, video interview which worked well for him. Rock up, yap on a bit about the band, smile at the camera, be back in time for a joint before soundcheck.

“So, we had a list sent in to us of a bunch of questions relating to each of the songs from your first self-titled album. Would you mind if we asked some?” The interviewer asked, flipping over to the next page in her notebook.

“Go for it.” He shrugged, pushing back into the wall he was leaning against.

“The question for The City: If you could fall in love in any city, what would it be and why?” She asked as she held the mic out to him.

“London. It’s probably my favourite city.” He answered with a firm nod.

“The one for Money is: Have you ever taken drugs?” She questioned, looking across at him.

“Yes.” He answered bluntly, trying his best not to roll his eyes. He was fairly certain that was pretty common knowledge at this point in his very public personal life.

“For Chocolate: Do you have a problem with authority?”

He snorted a laugh before answering, “Yes.”

“Heart Out: Do you have feelings for someone and wish they were reciprocated?” She asked.

He opened his mouth to answer with the default response but the words seemed to stall in his throat. His answer was going to be ‘no’, but the more he thought about it the more he realised that might be lying. Technically the bet he had was all about getting someone to reciprocate feelings. It was kind of the entire point. “Uh… yeah.” He said with a nod, hoping that she didn’t pry any more on the matter.

She let out an interested ‘ooo’ and he couldn’t help but grimace slightly at what he knew was about to come. “Would you pursue these feelings?” The interviewer asked with curiosity.

He thought on that for a moment. Strictly speaking, the bet was quite literally a case of pursuing them. But he was certain that she meant pursuing them in a more relationship-wise sort of way and less in the way that he was going about it. The more he thought on this, the more he found himself feeling nervous about his answer. It had been a long time since he’d been properly close with someone, especially in any capacity like last night. It was probably just that. Just circumstance. And he had an inkling that if he dwelled on it for too long, he’d lose his motivation for the bet and he knew that he was only ever getting closer by the day. “Maybe in a more forgiving set of social circumstances.” He answered eventually.

She continued on without saying anything else on the topic, “This one is for Sex: Have you ever been with someone who already had a partner?” She asked. He let out a sigh of relief that they had moved away from a topic he was trying to avoid investing too much thought in before answering the question.

“The person who wrote this list does know that I wrote these songs, yeah?” He laughed loudly. “Like, they’re about me. You can assume that they’re from my perspective.” The interviewer scrapped the remaining questions on the list after that and let him get back to his day. He went back. He smoked his joint. He soundchecked. He hung out with his friends. He played a show. He continued about the usual tour routine. But the realisation was starting to settle in that they only had three shows left. Only six days until the tour was over. Matty felt like time was closing in on him.

The next day as they drove to the third to last show, he found himself sitting in the back lounge - his feet up on the seat next to him, watching the rain trickle down the glass and the road pass behind them. His mind kept being dragged back to that question he had been asked in the interview. He’d always held an interest in Y/N/N, that much he was well aware of since the day that they’d met. But since he’d gotten so roped up in his determination to get her to confess her feelings, he’d lost sight of his own. Whenever she’d asked him back in that bar what his end game was, he had said that he didn’t know. At the time that seemed like a reasonable enough answer, his state of mind wasn’t the best and he wasn’t in a position to be committing to anything new, much less a relationship. And he’d done his best to make sure that she was aware of that so that he didn’t feel like he was putting her under false pretenses. But it had been months now, he’d come to realise he was in a much more stable place mentally and emotionally, and yet he still didn’t have any true direction. What was he going to do once she told him? He needed an answer. Soon. The tour had less than a week left. He was knocked out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps approaching behind him.

“What’re you doin’, Matt?” George asked as he leaned against the door frame.

“Just vibin’.” He shot back. The drummer rolled his eyes. “Being contemplative.” He elaborated with a shrug, taking a sip of the tea sitting in his lap.

“About?” He asked, stepping into the room and taking a seat opposite his friend.

“To say what you want – it’s hard, innit?” George knew better than to answer a rhetorical question like that and instead waited for Matty continue. “I’ve spent so much of my life thinking about the future and worrying about stuff. Worrying about shit that I can’t change. And I’m starting to feel like maybe I should be worrying about the things that I can.”

George could sense where this conversation was going. That Matty was getting close to the realisation that his feelings for Y/N/N were considerably less superficial than he gave them credit for. He wasn’t sure what had brought on this epiphany in his best friend, but the vibe of this conversation was telling him that he was on the right track to sorting out his own head. A little voice in the back of his mind reminded him of that bet that he had made with Adam and Ross. Was now his chance to let Matty in on the secret that everyone else knew? Or should he let his friend work his way there himself?

“I think that maybe you need to think about how far you’ve come, mate.” He resigned with a sigh. Letting Matty come to the discovery himself was probably going to be the best course of action. “You’re not the same person that you were ten years ago, even if you still make similarly dumb mistakes from time to time. What mattered to you then might not be the same things that you want to take into your future.”

Matty looked back over at his friend with a confused frown, hearing in his voice George wasn’t giving him all of the information that he had. “What’re you getting’ at?” He asked as George stood up.

“Consider what makes you happy, work your way up from there.” He explained, patting his friend’s shoulder as he walked back out of the back lounge.

* * *

George’s advice perhaps could’ve been slightly… more blunt, and to the point. Because what Matty found makes him happy was often instant gratification. And what he wanted most at this exact moment was to win that damn bet. There was one show left on their tour before everyone headed back home. One show to get her to crack. He had to pull out all of the stops if he was going to make this count. But this was what he had spent the last six weeks working out. What were the best things to get a reaction – what worked and what didn’t. Now was his time to shine and prove that he wasn’t just blindly fumbling in the dark. It was a few hours before they were set to play, stage setup was done, merch was set up. He was pretty certain that the majority of his friends were on the bus waiting for soundcheck. Now was the time. Matty sent her a text to come to the green room to help him out with something and then waited patiently. He worried slightly when he hadn’t received a reply at first, but within a few minutes he heard footsteps approaching. This was it. Show time.

“Yeah, what’s-” Her sentence suddenly wasn’t able to complete itself and she had to do a double take as she caught sight of the man in front of her. Matty was leaning against the table in the middle of the green room, cigarette in hand, staring lazily down at his phone sitting on his knee. For whatever reason he hadn’t bothered to button up the suit shirt that he was wearing, and his hair looked like he hadn’t touched it in days. He was even wearing the same ripped jeans she’d seen him wear at the last show. It was possibly one of the most casual looks that she had seen him in of late, and she fucking hated that despite this, he looked hot as hell. She hated it even more that he was almost definitely well aware of this information and probably also well aware of the way that it was making the synapses in her brain short out. He glanced up eventually, letting the smoke out of his lungs and putting his cigarette out in the ash tray sitting next to him.

“Can I ask a favour of you?” He asked as he pushed himself up off of the table. That annoying level confidence that he seemed to radiate was practically like static electricity in the room.

“Anythi-“ She started, before clearing her throat anxiously and trying to get her thoughts together. Her brain seemed to have just fallen right out of her skull as she crossed the threshold into this room. “I mean, uh-” And it was extremely hard to concentrate on finding it again with Matty approaching her looking like that. “yeah. What’s up?” She asked, deciding to look at the ground instead.

His index finger came to rest under her chin before pulling her gaze back up to his. Fuck. Having to look into his chocolate brown eyes when he was acting like this, it made this whole situation all too difficult to resist. He leaned in slightly closer before speaking. “If I were trying to impress a girl who would be watching the show tonight, do you think that this would suffice?”

“Absolutely.” She blurted out without thinking.

“Good to know.” He chuckled as he brushed past her and out the door of the green room. She turned around, looking in the direction that he had gone in confusion. What had just happened? Surely that ordeal wasn’t coincidental? The tone in his voice was too suggestive for any of that to have been a fluke. He’d intentionally caught her interest and then left her drooling over him. Why would- suddenly it clicked. That cocky bastard fucking knew that he had won, and he just walked away. He didn’t even press the topic of the bet at all. “See you at soundcheck.” His voice echoed back down the hallway. That absolute fucker. Unfortunately for her, six weeks trapped in close quarters with Matthew Healy had done exactly what she had predicted it might. It made her feelings for him so much worse. Tonight was going to be difficult. She was unsure if her heart rate would be able to survive through soundcheck, let alone nearly two hours of watching him on stage. Maybe she could just skip the show? No, he’d definitely find a way for her to be there. By the time she’d finished psyching herself up to tolerate a couple of songs in soundcheck, the band were nearly ready to go.

As she walked up to the barrier of the pit, she heard Matty call her name. “Watch this.” Matty grinned, making a motion to the rest of the band. Do I have to? The familiar starting notes of The Sound started filling the empty stadium. Of course. Of course. Should she really have expected any less of him than to play this song? The annoying thing was that in this frame of mind and with him… like that, she couldn’t do anything but watch him. His direct interaction with her as they ran through the song was minimal, instead he racked his brain for the things that he’d done on stage in the past that he’d caught her watching. And it worked a treat. Her attention was trained on him the entire time. As the song came to an end, her brain felt absolutely fried. He must’ve recognised her half-dazed state because he jumped down into the space between the barrier and the stage to put the final nail in the coffin. He leant across the metal railing, and for a brief moment she thought he might’ve been about to kiss her. She was pretty certain that she might spontaneously combust if he did.

“You could just tell me, you know.” He whispered. Her heart hammered against her ribcage as she tried to compose her thoughts. After a few seconds he moved back, meeting her gaze and seeing how flustered she was.

“Fuck you.” She mumbled with her last hint of tenacity and desire to win a futile bet, tearing her eyes away from him to look behind him at the screens on the stage.

“You could if you’d like.” He quipped with a knowing look. She was suddenly dragged back to the weekend that she’d met him. That damn radio interview he’d pulled her into. It was nearly five months ago now since he’d pulled that stunt on her. Had it really been that long..? “Suit yourself, love.” He said with a chuckle as he hopped back up on stage.

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somilkyshaky · 4 years

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Skam España - Season 2 - Episode 1, Clip 6: Las amistades peligrosas

Hey you! Finally, we’re finishing the first episode! If you don’t know what I’m talking about, go check this post; here you go for the first clip and here for the last I posted, the fifth clip.

Well, let’s go for a 7 minutes clip (prepare yourself a lot of time, it’s going to be long, but like LONG).

Hi everyone! Today we’re here for a new tutorial: “How to prepare yourself for a date with your crush?”. I’m sorry, but the music and the fact that it almost takes 30 seconds of the clip is clearly here to take it with humor, and tbh, I live for this shit.

“Nah.”

What I love is that it’s so accurate. For example, we all screamed to our mother to not go open the door for the person ringing (what I mean is that it’s great because the viewer can immediately relate to Cris).

Another touch of humor, we discover she tried, like, A LOT of sweater. I mean, at this point I can’t say anything but that I love Cris. (Oh, and poor teddy bear who doesn’t know his fate yet.)

“Breathe, you’re great.”

The music stopping and coming back and stopping again when the door closes, the teddy bear and this face. You don’t know how much I’ve laughed with this clip; everything is meant to be funny.

“Now is the moment of your life.” god this song xD

Look at her breathe out again, I love her (and wow, this door is... dark).

Yep, you’re right my dudes, she checks her out.

No but more seriously, look how chill she seems. The chin is high, hands in the pocket, her shoulders are opened, and I mean, this look (+little bonus for the left raised eyebrow), 100% confident; BUT I can’t help myself thinking that she must be freaking out internally (we can notice the movements (swings maybe?) she does with her body, most of the time, we let out our “anxiety”, our stress with these kind of gesture, so yeah).

“Hello, I’m awkwardness! I’m the one who makes you pose as a dummy. I’m sure you’ll love me!”

“OMG THE LOVE OF MY LIFE IS A DUMBASS, AND SHE IS CLUMSY AND AWKWARD AS FUCK, MARRY ME ALREADY!” (I’m sorry, sometimes I think I’m funny even if I know I’m not.)

“I hate myself.” (relatable btw)

Everything in this clip is brilliant. It’s such a funny way to show something real and still be accurate. I’m sure we all had the opportunity to see ourselves in Cris at the moment, this clumsiness/awkwardness; I’m sorry but I’m a gay mess like Cris, I’m just happy to have my representation. (Oh, and the little “vale” from Joana is cute af, it’s not awkward or anything, it’s perfectly in character: confident but reassuring)

Okay so… the next sequence is like… we’re going to have a lot, but when I say a lot, I mean A LOT of things to say, because these two are a fucking goldmine. What I’m trying to tell you is that we’re here for a loooong time together (but I’m sure deep down you like it).

Cris being like “Okay, does she like my room? How does she react?”

Btw, her room is like, wow. They really did a good job with the decoration. Yes, I know, we all saw it, the “LIPS”; “KISS”, I know. Oh, and I love her laptop. I’m sure I can’t see a lot of references but, yeah, we already have too much to say x)

I love how Joana is looking at the entire room. Joana is me. I already said it in other clips, but Joana “sees” thing, she is observant (to me it’s a quality).

I’m so bad at catching it, but Cris’s reaction at the length of the film kills me. Plus, am I the only one laughing so hard as she tries to do small talk? xD (which btw doesn’t work at all because Joana doesn’t complain about the film)

Joana, a complation: Confused Joana – “Meh” Joana – Shocked Joana.

God… This face kills me. More seriously, at the moment, they really aren’t on the same wavelength. Cris complains about the film, when Joana just says she likes it. Cris’ all reaction is really interesting. It’s like the “typical” teenage reaction in front of a school work, but at the moment, there’s also this need to just- say something; because she’s like this, she’s the one who talks for the sake of talking. She talks without really thinking about it; but let’s keep this for later okay? (Oh, and yes, Joana’s gaze, but it’s going to be like that in the rest of the clip so…)

Some teasing. I like that. There really is a chemestry between these two that I love. I like how Joana is like “Oh I see, she’s going that way” and Cris is completely in character and is just “pitching into” her, in a way? (trying to translate a french thought in english is a disaster, believe me).

Thank god, I like to see some repartee. It’s so fluid, you need to remember that they know each other for literally, 2 DAYS, and we already have this kind of complicity. Brilliant.

Look at these happy girls.

I don’t know how to interpret the fact of Joana’s smile slowly fading and then her gaze quickly going back to the laptop, as if she was realizing something or I don’t know. It’s impossible to catch it in pictures, but just look at her after the joke. Plus it’s hard to interpret it because we have a “jump cut”:

We see her smiling and looking at Cris. So… I don’t want to misinterpret things so I’m just going to shut up and continue. Even if maybe (and I say maybe because the rest of the clip proves me wrong until the end), there’s Eloy and the fact that she knows she shouldn’t get to close from Cris even if she wants to.

“Guys, you’re annoying, I’m on a date.”

More seriously, the filming is pretty nice; we have the camera moving from a shot where we have both of them to a shot with only Cris and her messages, maybe to show that she doesn’t pay attention at what is Joana doing anymore (which also means that the rest of the time she was indeed paying attention at every single movement of Joana).

To support my thoughts, when her mother interrupts them, we come back to a shot with the two girls; she isn’t “captivate” by the messages anymore.

Little bonus for the “please Mom don’t say something stupid, don’t ruin this” face.

I live for this shit.

Joana still being a meme + the iconic “My friend heard you” because it’s so fucking accurate (don’t lie, we all said it once + send some love to your mom btw, she deserves it, even if most of the time she embarrasses you).

Joana’s face be like “I was laughing, but I’m trying to not show it because I know it’s already awkward enough, so I’m just going to smile and be reassuring.”

“Stay chill. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Stay calm. Stay fucking calm. OMG is she really doing this? There’s so much tension. Send help. Please.”

I’m sorry but the “We’re good with what we have.” ? I don’t know if it’s the exact translation, but it’s so ambiguous. I love that.

“Don’t show anything. You’re not destabilised. Stay chill. WtF the TeNsiON. I’m FucKiNG DEstaBiLIsed.” + Joana clearly looking at how Cris is reacting, she’s such a tease (not in the bad way though, I’m not insulting her calm down). Yes, don’t worry, I didn’t forget. BOLD+1500.

Come on, just look how proud she is, while Cris is dying internally xD I’m dying too btw.

Some interesting body language though, the fact of Cris trying to get back her shit together by sitting straight and Joana having her chin really high and her shoulders open; it clearly shows who is at ease and who isn’t imo x) + (yes there’s a lot of things happening) Cris crossing her arms in front her is a way to “protect herself” (not from Joana, but from the overwhelming) and most importantly to “control” herself and kind of find a way to seem more confident or at least not affected.

Cris coming back with her small talk and Joana being like “Yeah, act as if nothing just happened, I saw you panicking anyway.” But more seriously, it’s interesting to see that Cris is a fucking mess. I mean, she tries her best to sound and appear confident, but FUCK she isn’t xD And btw, one of Cris’ most important characteristic is her joking all the time to get rid of every “problematic” situation (it’s not something bad, but I don’t think it’s good either, as we could see in the last clips).

Joana just laughing at Cris’ “joke” and not continuing the conversation is me in 90% of the interactions I have with people (but it’s not what’s important). The most important is that, in a way, it reinforces the fact that they still aren’t really on the same wavelenght, and I think Cris can feel it because of this little look:

It’s also clearly a moment (before this look) where Cris is trying to get back her composure + this little look is there to check if Joana is still in a “teasing mode” or not with her (I think); but tbh, I don’t feel a lot of awkwardness in all of this.

Her phone saving her, just look how fast she grabs it xD (Nope, I didn’t miss Joana’s thing she always does with her nails/fingers, don’t worry.)

Yes guys, you’re used to it now, this is “worry”; not the BIG worry though, but the mouth dropping a little, the eyes openning, the movement backward. It’s not a lot, but it’s here.

“My crush or my friends?”

Joana, baby girl, it’s not really allowed to look at someone else’s phone/messages. She is so sneaky xD

But yes, a sweetheart.

(I don’t talk a lot about the movement both girls do with their legs, but, well no, I don’t want to say it’s “anxiety” because in the moment it’s not, but it’s still a way to let the “pressure” out, you know? I mean, we all do this kind of things unconsciously when we are with people, especially when we “like” them. Anyway.)

Joana smiling as she looks at the bowl (+shaking her head) because Cris just placed it between them is PRICELESS.

Btw, Cris not answering for a party is… wow? I mean, they didn’t place all of this in this clip for nothing. It allows them to show that Cris is maybe, yeah no, clearly interested by Joana. It just reinforces things.

Cris’ little glance at Joana (did I already say she’s clumsy? No? She’s so fucking clumsy and I love that).

Joana noticing the glance, but she doesn’t glance, no no no, she STARES guys and we’re here for this shit.

She notices Cris’ discomfort and embrassed smile, but keeps staring.

And then we have THIS; but this time, there’s nothing awkward, to me it’s just really cute. Oh, and of course, all this dynamic with their glances and stares shows even more that Joana is way more confident and at ease than Cris.

(I’m wondering if it’s really acting or just Tamara and Irene messing around, trying to hold a laugh and just being two dumbasses. Nah, I think they’re just amazing at representing simple things. Yes, I’m having a debate with myself, just keep reading!)

That’s cute.

Look at this proud and happy Cris. We’re finally seeing her a little more at ease, her chin is higher and her shoulders starts to open, because yeah, during the past 2 minutes (more or less) we have her shoulders really tensed and closed with her head really low, kind of forming a “protection” around her; but now yeah, she’s finally relaxed thanks to Joana being all the time so chill, smiley, not awkward and reassuring in her own way.

2:50 of the clip and I already have 23 pages on my Word. We’re not even at the HALF of the clip, I’m already dying. Anyway, I already haven’t said a lot of things but everything is brilliant, so let’s continue and start having some real conversation between these two.

FIRST. How did these two end up in this position? One of the other mysteries of Skam España.

A thought just like that, before this shot the movie was only a music, whereas here we have a conversation; maybe it’s showing that Cris finally pays attention too what is said (I don’t know).

(Little disclaimer, I never read “Les liaisons dangereuses” (because yeah, it’s French) but I tried to understand the story to be sure that I’m not missing too many things about what’s going to be said. Anyway.)

Look at how Joana seems so interested by the movie, so “in it” (French thoughts sorry). Plus, I think it’s the first time we see it (it’s going to be recurrent later) but she plays with her necklace. It’s the first time they want us to notice that necklace btw. We know that the movie is about relationships, love, etc… and the particular moment they’re watching is important because it’s a “““break-up”””. I find it interesting to make her play with her necklace at this specific moment because it’s one of the first hints about BPD. She feels more affected than others by this kind of scenes.

And YES, Cris’ stare. Plus, we go from this shot to this shot:

Here we literally have Cris’ point of view, what she sees + this close shot gives something really intimate. I love it.

She can’t stop staring, that’s… wow.

Joana noticing the stare and looking up.

Cris looking back at the laptop. It’s not really an embarrassed smile though, there’s nothing awkward here. Yep, Joana looking at her lips.

Joana shaking her head in disbelief is the entire fandom in front of Cris being a gay mess. CRIS’ SMILE THOUGH. And yes, there’s NOTHING awkward, that’s super cute I’m dying.

“Is she really…?” (I love how the close shot, which represent intimacy, is thrown away and we come back to a larger shot when the mother interrupts the intimacy)

“Yes, she is…” + Joana being a cute adorable dork when she laughs + thank you for giving us some representation with our periods! (and yes, I’m not that surprised by this situation, my mom is literally the same.)

SO MUCH COMPLICITY I’M DYING. DO YOU HEAR ME?

(yes, Cris is looking again at Joana, but come on I can’t put every gaze in picture xD) The famous “No puedo evitarlo”… Let’s be completely transparent; this whole clip is a HUGE foreshadowing for their entire relationship, and I’m here for it.

Cristina “seriously?” Soto Peña or Cristina “I’m judging you; a lot” Soto Peña, choose your fighter.

Disappointed Joana (+ a bit annoyed).

Btw, Cris dropping her opinion on the characters with no argument and just saying that he is a son of a bitch and that she is an idiot, is so much in character + “I would tell him to fuck off”, well darling… you won’t... and you will, in a way.

What I love about all of this, is that this clip is here to show what is Cris’ vision of love and relationships at the start of the season because they need a starting point to show how much she is going to grow through this season.

Still “not impress” Cris, and yes, another hint for Joana’s BPD (the fact of not being able to control the feelings, even if in this case, it touches everyone and it’s just Cris who doesn’t realize it. It’s hard to act coldly and we have here another characteristic for Cris and Joana, they’re different on this point, we have a more “mature and rational” Joana) + It’s really discreet, but Joana glances many times at Cris lips (yeah, that’s it).

OUF. Disappointment. Again. It’s really hard to catch Joana’s “annoyance”, but her rolling her eyes at Cris’ joke is priceless. They really aren’t on the same wavelength (at least, for the movie, they really are at ease with each other, but not on their thoughts/belief). Oh, and Cris still joking about everything… (though, I think it’s just her way to “flirt” maybe) just let’s keep it for later.

“No, I’m serious” and we go from a wide shot to a close shot. Joana brings back some intimacy; the shot makes the viewer understand that it’s going to be important in the next seconds. Brilliant.

And oh wow… we never saw Joana like that before. The head is forward, the jaw is a little clenched (what I mean is that her mouth is “hold”, it’s not dropping), the gaze is straight ahead, the eyebrows are a little frown, and maybe the nostrils are a little wider (not sure) + the tone is- I wouldn’t say “harsh”, but there’s still some anger/annoyance behind it + the big annoyed sigh before she starts talking + the gestures/movements she does with her head to reinforce what she says, they are quick and short (btw, when she said “the count is a son of a bitch”, the movement with her head says no, she doesn’t agree with what she says, yes guys, the details, it shows a great acting too) + the “right?” to end her sentence. She’s confronting Cris, no jokes allowed; and tbh, I like that, I like this part of her character.

(Okay, maybe you’re right, having such a deep conversation about love at the first date is a little bold; bold+1502)

(Just look at when Joana sits up) she was smiling, and now we have… a destibalized Cris (yep, again). I like how she looks up, a little to the right, it means that she’s really thinking about it + yes, she’s clearly avoiding Joana’s gaze (it takes her 6 seconds to look back at her). Oh, and I LOVE how the camera is moving between their two faces. When Joana talks, she is in the shot because Cris is looking at her; when Cris is talking and NOT looking at Joana, we only see her on screen, but when she finally looks back at Joana we have this shot :

I already said it no? BRILLIANT.

Yep, Joana seems “calmer” (good job, you see, you’re making progress!); the eyebrows are a little raised, the mouth is slightly curved, and wow, she’s like, really listening to what Cris is saying, just look at her eyes, she’s so attentive.

Look at Joana slowly starting to smile again, we see you girl. Oh, and Cris thinking she’s bad and talking about her grades starts to show some insecurities, even if she’s joking about it + she’s right even if Joana doesn’t confirm it, there’s revenge in the story (and btw later in the season too, so much foreshadowing).

I don’t know why, I just like this shot/scene in general. It’s intimate, they’re really listenning to each other (those gazes god…), and their conversation is pretty deep.

Yep, looking again at her lips.

I love how they “exchanged” the shots, let me explain; now, when one of them is talking, we have the camera focused on the other, we literally see how they’re looking at each other and it means so many things: the most important isn’t their face anymore, it’s the words of the other, it’s how they’re touched by them; it’s deep because what we see on screen is Cris (okay), but it’s also Cris “seeing” herself react to Joana, how she feels about Joana’s words (you see? Yeah I know it’s really far from just looking at the body language, and maybe I’m completely misinterpreting, but it’s important). GOD I REALLY LOVE THIS SHOW BECAUSE IT’S BRILLIANT.

Oh, and on a more “down-to-earth” analysis, the frown shows that Cris is really focused, she’s attentive, even if her eyes and the curves of her mouth are more like “I’m not sure I’m following you.”

Guys, I’m not joking. Find someone who looks at you like that when you’re talking. This is beautiful.

God… on close shots like this, so many things are happening; when I said “goldmine” earlier, I wasn’t joking guys; I really invite you to do the same, just take the time to look at the details (if you noticed the little eyebrows relaxing, and then raising really quickly; and her mouth opening a little and also relaxing around the words “happy/love story”, I’m proud of you!)

“I don’t really agree with you, honey.” The raised but at the same time frowned eyebrows, and the little movement of her head shows “surprise”, or more like “um- wait.”

“But what kind of love is that?”, thank you Cris. Wow… finally we have Cris having a deep and serious talk. And I like her vision of love (because yes, she has one!); she doesn’t understand the point of suffering: “all the count does is make her suffer”; we have a really sweet and soft Cris here.

Lips again, it’s getting redundant baby girl + when the camera was moving from Cris to her, she was already looking at her lips.

Exactly the same face from earlier, still in the “confrontation”, but this time I also see a little more “disgust” maybe, or “disbelief” (the mouth is a little more opened and the eyes are wider) but in my head it means some kind of “are you serious?” but weaker (you know? God, I really don’t have the level to do this kind of things in English).

I don’t know how to interpret the return to this shot; but I think it’s because they want to include these two in the same shot because the “when you love someone, blah-blah…” will have a real meaning for both of them later in the season, because they will both suffer of the absence and of being ignored by the other. And YES, Joana queen of foreshadowing.

I’m not talking a lot about what is said, because I don’t really like this vision of love. I know that suffering is a part of it (but it’s not love which makes you suffer, it’s how you deal with it) and that Las amistades peligrosas have a really “complicated love story”, but to me, it’s clearly not healthy. Maybe it’s love, but not the “good kind” of love, you know? Also, OF COURSE, it’s a new hint for Joana’s BPD; they suffer way more than others when it comes to not being able to spend time with people they love + all this conversation shows “something new” about Joana; I mean, it seems that she way more experienced than Cris about relationships, etc.

(Yep, Cris is a little taken aback by the “and?”)

To me, Joana’s face means some kind of “You really don’t understand what we’re talking about, don’t you?” (but soft). It’s like she’s trying to find something on Cris’ face or in her gaze (it’s really a feeling I have, I don’t know why? what? how? I just follow it and I don’t think I can interpret it; I only can notice it and share it with you).

Lips, AGAIN (and yes, her head is leaning forward). And this time, yeah, Cris was staring at her eyes she can’t have missed it; and guess what?

“Let’s look away and try to talk about something else” (yes, you’re good, you noticed that Cris’ mouth is way more opened, congrats! A little before she moves her gaze, you can see it slowly opening, even maybe her chin “trembling” but it’s really discreet).

(Do you realize that that there are so many things happening each second?) When Cris starts talking, Joana’s chin quickly rises, kind of a “come back to reality” – LIPS. AGAIN. – “What is she talking about?”.

Okay, that’s cute.

But with this joke, we come back to a wider plan; the intimacy and depth are gone.

Wait, I just realized this now but, look at their legs, they are SO close, omg.

“Oh, maybe I was wrong, my future wife is brilliant.”

Again guys, find someone who looks at you like that when you’re talking + this “Sí”; I’m dying + on the shot before Joana looks at her lips (it’s not surprising anymore) + just look how attentive she is, it’s really cute + yes, we’re back with the “intimate shot”, and the fact that we see the reaction of one girl when the other is talking.

“Excuse me, what?”

Look at her, she is so unconfident about everything she says, she can’t believe Joana likes her idea.

Yep, we’re back with that. “I said it just to say something”, one of Cris’ most important caracteristic. She thinks what she says isn’t important, or serious. Joana is, right here, the only one who takes what she says seriously. We thought that Cris is someone really confident and everything, but with this first episode we already have A LOT of hints showing that she maybe doesn’t have a that strong self-esteem as we thought, and this is a really important point.

Joana, queen of reassurance.

Can she be cuter? Come on, that’s amazing she’s so proud of herself, thanks to Joana. They already have so much “power”/effect on each other. 2 DAYS GUYS, 2 DAYS. And, yes, close shot again, we keep jumping between intimacy and “normality”, it becomes more and more fluid and natural between these two (I love this show so fucking much).

“Vale”- “Vale”; just go dig my grave.

Happy girl.

And OMG we’re playing again with the shots, Joana is looking at Cris and then we have this:

And then the camera isn’t moving anymore, we only have cuts to show each girl, the rhythm is a little faster.

Lips + LIPS guys, no subtlety anymore xD

“OMFG iT’s HApPeNiNG!”

No but more seriously, I can’t catch the reaction in one picture; but the mouth and the smile dropping in the blink of an eye + her eyes widening + her body slowly going backward and raising a little.

The funniest is that we don’t see Joana at the moment, we only see Cris’ reaction and it only gives more “suspense”. This is BRILLIANT.

The camera moving with Joana, WHILE she looks at Cris’ eyes + Her gaze shifting between her eyes and her lips + Cris being completely somewhere else, trying to look away; she doesn’t process at all what’s happening.

This is cute, but at the same time I can’t help but laugh and I don’t know why xD (it’s not awkward though). Yes btw, bold+1550.

THIS. It doesn’t last long, but wow… There is so much intensity; and at the same time, it shows so many things about how they both feel. Cris is completely lost, her mouth, her jaw and her eyes, she has no control of it (wide eyes, mouth a little open; you can see this expression even more before the eye contact, because there Cris already had a little movement with her chin, kind of realizing what’s happening) + she doesn’t move at all.

At the opposite, we have a “determined” Joana, she knows what she’s doing; I mean, everything is in her gaze + the mouth and the jaw, she has a total control of it + well, she is leaning, like LEANING forward; and we stan.

This is cute; these little smiles, it takes all the rest of the awkwardness away (and there wasn’t a lot left).

It’s hard to describe everything, so I’m giving you some leads: Joana doesn’t have a lot of things to say here, her face isn’t moving a lot, everything is in her eyes, and of course some movements with her lips. On the other hand, Cris is WOW; her eyes shifting all the time and her mouth are SO EXPRESSIVE; take your time to look at everything, because in what? 5 seconds, there’s a lot.

(I’m wondering if the smile is maybe more Irene than Cris, because it quickly goes back to something a little more “apprehensive”; just a thought like that, no real analysis just a feeling.)

This last gaze… at this point I just let myself be carried by so much intimacy and tension.

Just a quick remark, it’s not a secret but Joana is so much more at ease, because Cris really can’t “stabilize” her gaze and keep the stare as Joana does.

And yep, we’re back to the same situation than in the second clip. We have Cris who immediately breaks the connection, while Joana stays in it. In any case, I don’t know if she really was ready for a kiss (let’s wait 3 long weeks now xD).

When I first watched this clip, I wasn’t really surprised by the mom coming; I mean, they didn’t make her interrupt them multiple times for nothing.

Oh, and bold+1600 just for remaining so chill and keeping this little smirk during all the “leaning forward” thing.

“For fuck sake.”

We stan a queen rolling her eyes 24/7 – We’re used to it now guys, worry, again. Her face is really like “No come on, don’t tell me you’re leaving.”; that’s cute.

(Okay, quick remark again with the shot, we have Cris’ pov who’s looking at Joana, blahblah, you understood.) A lot of people think “Now we know it, it’s Eloy texting her, she knows she almost fucked up and she’s just fleeing”; and I’m not so sure about that. First, yes of course, worry and annoyance: the worry is here with the openned mouth just before and the huge breath she takes, and annoyance, with the loud sigh, the thing with her lips, her eyes and the cold “I have to go”. Here is my opinion: if it really was Eloy, that she was supposed to meet him for exemple, why would she had asked Cris to watch the movie, perfectly knowing the length of it? No, I think it’s maybe her parents asking where she is, because maybe she hasn’t told them she was out because her reaction is close to a “I’m screwed” + a quick reaction and decision like that, I think hints again for BPD (when I say hints it’s stupid because it’s just her reacting to the world around her, but I think you understand what I mean).

Cris being so desperate: “Already?”; “Um, shouldn’t we finish the movie?”; it’s cute though, she doesn’t want her to leave, but damn it’s so clumsy xD

New aspect of Joana, she is a little destabilized and we don’t have her usual confidence. She is really avoidant with a quick, low, and weak “yes”; she is already grabbing her jacket, kind of fleeing Cris. A messy excuse “I’ve already seen it” (why are you here then? xD I mean, I know it’s not a lie because there’s a chat about it, but it just makes me laugh) + her voice is “different” you know? Yeah, really, we have a completely other Joana here.

“Fuck.”

“I’ll walk you out”, Cris really tries xD

And damn we really have Joana “pushing her away”; it’s like in the blink of an eye, she completely changed even if she’s really polite and everything, and it’s brilliant

+ Here (pictures) we have Joana with the joke and this cute smile which gives her back some confidence - but then we have the other gaze with all the “composure” she tries to keep fading again.

Some hope with the “Well, I’ll see you on Monday, right?” + You even can see (before the picture) on Cris’ agreement, we have a smile forming and she seems so relieved, that’s cute (an yes, close shot on Joana, so Cris’ pov).

Fuck, those pupils.

Cris’ emotional journey be like:

“What the hell just happened?” – Queen of eyes rolling (god, this sigh).

“It’s so unfair!” (her eyes shifting everywhere, kind of processing the situation) – The most interesting face, because I’m not sure how to interpret it. I hesitate between two things: a movement to bite her lips or cheeks or whatever; OR it’s a “common” movement, we do this kind of thing when we’re speechless, when we want to talk but nothing comes out, as if our mouth follows our thoughts but our throat doesn’t; it helps us to regain our composure in away (+ there’s so much frustration; again, all of this is here to add some humor).

We have a movement backward, to breathe a little, to let things out; and just look at this adorable gay mess, she’s so cute + “Well… at least we spent some time together, it’s not that bad…” – “Fuck, of course that’s bad! I hate my life.” + Cris closing her eyes as the ending screen comes, come on, stop being so on top…

Bold score: 1600 (congrats Mrs. Bianchi).

What I love with this clip is that it tells us what’s going to happen (they’re going to have the “No puedo evitarlo” and the “don’t you love me?”; they’re going to suffer; Cris will go through all the stages of what she calls “idiot” here). It just allows us to have a starting point for Cris and Joana’s growth through the season; and this is brilliant. And yes, we are fucking clowns.

Anyway, we finally finished this first episode! It was long, but so interesting to do. We already have so much information about Cris and Joana, that’s brilliant. Again, a quick reminder, I don’t pretend to be an expert or whatever, I just share with you my thoughts, and of course there must be a lot of mistakes and I’m sure I forgot a lot of things.

I’m going to take a little break with Skam España, which means that the next analyses won’t come soon, and I’m pretty sure I won’t do all the clips because it takes me too much time; but yes, definitely, I’ll write other reaction, don’t worry about that!

I hope you enjoyed, thank you so much for reading!

#skam españa #skam españa s2 #clips s2 #clips ep1s2

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flowerspecial · 5 years

Text

I.M falls in love with another artist

Being brand new into this industry, you didn't really know what to expect. You had never expected for your career to blow up like this. Your mother had pushed you to send a video of you singing to a local record company. And here you were. One of the hottest new artists of the year. You had to relocate to America, so you felt somewhat lonely. Uprooting your life is never easy, and adding the enormous gamble of whether you will actually make it or not. Your heart had been on edge for a while now.

Your manager had booked you into what seemed like hundreds of interviews and talk shows. Your promotion was huge. Your manager had put a lot of money and time into making you a known name in every household. Every interviewer had told you that you were a breath of fresh air coming into this industry. Your voice was deep and strong, it resonated through any arena that you performed in. It's almost as if your voice was that bridge between musical theatre, and jazz. You had this Aretha Franklin vibe going on, and it was greatly received by the public.

Normally at the end of an interview, you are requested to sing a song for the audience. It's a great way for people to get that little taste of who you are as a performer. Your most recent interview was with none other James Corden. James Corden was your favourite talk show host, so you wanted to make this interview better than the others. As the interview proceeded, James began to ask you rather basic questions, such as, how did you get discovered, what's it like living in America etc. But James being James, he’s always going to throw in a cheeky question here and there. That’s just in his nature.

“So, is there anyone on the scene?” James asked you, smirking.

“I’m afraid not.” You replied, shrugging your shoulders slightly to the camera. “I’m not that lucky in love I’m afraid.”

“But you write songs about heartbreak, so surely there must be something there?” He said quizzically.

“I mean I’ve watched my friends experience heartbreak. And I’ve seen enough heartbreaks on tv to know the essence of one. You don’t have to have direct experience with the thing you are writing about it. It's all about embellishment.” You’ve rehearsed this answer so many times, it reels off like an automated response. James did have a fair point. You do tend to write songs that are more melancholic, but that's just because those types of songs show off your vocals the best. Also, you’ve always had quite the sad, dramatic heart. So you found writing lyrics that are more on the sad side much easier than writing about sunshine and rainbows.

“Is there anyone in the industry that you would like to collaborate with?” James asked.

“I mean it's still early days for me. So honestly if anyone reached out, I’d probably say yes. But I would love to work with a K-pop group. They are all dominating right now so it would be cool to see their process to creating music.”

“So BTS?” James said, which elicited a deafening roar of applause and cheers from the audience.

“BTS are a definite. But also groups like NCT or Monsta X. I love Monsta X, so that collab would be a dream come true.” You spoke like a true fan girl, clutching your chest when you mentioned Monsta X. You had been following the group since they debuted, and so if there was any chance in the world that you could do a collaboration with them, you were down.

At the end of the interview, you began to prepare yourself for your performance. When you are on stage, you tend to stand off to the side. This is because you love having dancers be the focal point. You have always said that dancing accentuates the points that the singer tries to get across with the lyrics. You also preferred your lighting to be quite dark. The darkness matched with the soulfulness of your voice, which helped transport the audience into this almost eerie but nonetheless beautiful place that you tried to emulate.

The following day, you woke up to a frenzy of notifications buzzing on your phone. The light dazzled you slightly, but you saw that all of your friends were telling you to get onto twitter pronto. On twitter you saw that your name was trending, but it wasn't just your name. It was your name and Monsta X that was trending. Confused, you click on the hashtag and began scrolling through to see what everyone is going on about.

Your eyes practically doubled in size when you saw that you had been mentioned on Monsta X’s official Twitter page. You dropped the phone in astonishment. Your heart was beginning to race as you could possibly think what they had said. Maybe it was to say thank you for mentioning them? Or maybe it was to say that they hated you and wanted nothing to do with you? Okay, so you realise that maybe you were beginning to run away with yourself. So you picked up the phone to read the message:

We love you too! We would love to work with you sometime! Message us - Changkyun

Was this real? You thought to yourself. Was this actually real life? Did the real Changkyun from Monsta X genuinely just tell you that he is down to work with you? You honestly didn't know how to process this information. So you just sat upright on your bed staring blankly at your phone. What was the protocol here? Should you actually message them? Or were they just being nice for the sake of their image? You was conflicted about your next move but thankfully that decision was taken out of your hands as a notification had popped up that you had a message.

We are working in the same studios that you work in. If you are free at all today, maybe you could come down and we could talk about the collaboration? - Changkyun

You smiled at yourself and thought it was cute that Changkyun was the one who messaged you and mentioned you on twitter. But maybe that was just because he was one of the strongest in English. You didn't want to make a mountain out of a molehill.

After reading the message you sprang off your bed and began to rush around your house. You needed to have a shower, brush your teeth, have breakfast, get dressed, the list was endless. And you know that phenomena that when you are in a rush, everything goes wrong and things keep slowing you down? Well, that was indeed happening to you. It took you ages to finally get out of the house, but thankfully the studios were only a short drive away.

Walking into the studios, you felt nervous in a way. People always say that you should never meet your idols. What happens if they are actually all horrible people? Or maybe this is just one big joke to humiliate you. You pushed the door of your studio slightly, and you sighed in relief as you saw Changkyun sat in there.

“Hey, it's nice to meet you.” You bowed slightly trying to show your respect. But you felt a tad awkward, so you also put your hand out for him to shake. He laughed at your cute little introduction but took your hand anyway.

“Likewise. Your performance last night was amazing. I was stunned.” Changkyun said smoothly. You cursed yourself inwardly as you began to feel a bit hot under his gaze.

Trying to look anywhere, except at Changkyun, you looked across the room. But something didn't seem quite right. “Wait, where is everyone else?” You hadn't noticed it when you first walked in, but now you had realised that Changkyun was alone.

“Oh, the others have something right now but they are coming later!” He sensed your body shift slightly. “Is that okay? If not we can just wait for them to come! I just thought that you and I could get started now. Besides, the other boys don’t really speak English that well so it would be me doing all the talking anyway.”

“Yeah it's fine with me! It just seems strange with only one of you being here. I’m used to seeing all of you together.” You giggled slightly at the end. You took a seat on a chair near the recording deck and patted the seat next to you for Changkyun to sit in. “Now, is there anything you definitely do or definitely don’t want out of this collab?”

“I would like to do something that shows off your voice. You have the best voice I have ever heard. It's so soothing yet powerful. It's like nothing I’ve ever heard before.” As Changkyun confessed, his eyes captured yours and he held them hostage. You was flattered by his sweet words. Due to your rather sudden success, you had grown accustomed to compliments. Many of which you could tell were not said sincerely. But you felt touched by Changkyun’s comments. You could tell that he was speaking from his heart.

“Thank you so much, I’m flattered. I’ve been a huge fan of yours since you debuted. I am honestly shocked that I even get to be in the same room as you!” You replied, prying your eyes away from his. What you didn't notice, as you had looked away, was the faintest of smiles that danced on Changkyun’s lips. He studied the features of your face as if he was about to take an exam in them. He could stare at you all day, and one day he intended on doing just that. But for now, he remembered why you two were here in the first place.

“So I’m thinking, to go with your aesthetic. We could a slow song but with a good beat in the background. That way me and Joohoney could rap. We could even get the other boys to harmonise with you!” His eagerness to appease you was charming.

“I like it. But I don’t actually mind doing something a bit more uptempo. My manager did say it would be good to have at least one song that is different from the rest. That way I can test the waters, you know?”

The afternoon continued as you bounced ideas between each other. In the end you had settled on a fast-ish paced song. Something that really hits hard. We are talking Shoot Out times a thousand. Lyrics was something you always found quite easy to come up with. And working with Changkyun made it even easier, if that was even possible. You seemed to constantly be thinking on the same wavelength. You threw lyrics out left right and centre and Changkyun just had this undeniable talent for making them all connect. As you worked, you sat very close to each other, your shoulders touching. Changkyun would forever be leaning into your personal space to read what you have written. Not that you minded of course.

Changkyun suggested that you should go into the booth and have a mess around with some of the vocals that you might like to feature. That way he could really get a feel for who you are as an artist. Messing around, he told you to go full on Christina Aguilera. And you did just that. The songs that you produce don’t necessarily require that type of singing. You need to be strong in your voice, but you don’t really need to do a lot of runs or belting out. So it's nice to actually see if your voice is capable. Changkyun was truly mesmerised by your talent. He'd only suggested singing like that as a joke, and yet here you were making a joke out of him. You shocked him every way possible, and he loved it. You took your headphones off for a second, just to get a drink.

“We are definitely using that in the song!” He exclaimed, using his hands to show his undeniable excitement.

“Are you sure? I don’t think it sounds that good.”

“You are joking right?” Changkyun stands up and places a hand on each shoulder. “You know I’m just saying this because you are stood in front of me. I truly think you are the best singer I have ever heard! You make everything seem effortless and I could listen to you for hours. You need to show the world that you can sing like that!”

“I guess I could do it once. Just to try it.” Before you or him registered what he was doing. Changkyun embraced you in tight arms and lifted you off the group slightly. He thought you were the most endearing person he had ever met.

“Well excuse me, looks like we are interrupting something.” A voice said. You jumped away from Changkyun in embarrassment. You looked over at who was speaking, and you saw the rest of Monsta X stood before, smirking at you both.

“Oh no, nothing is happening here. We are just working” You quickly spluttered out. You rubbed your arms in comfort and looked at the floor awkwardly.

“Clearly,” Minhyuk began. “Hey Chan, why don’t you hug me like that when we are working?” He asked suggestively.

“Please shut up.” Changkyun mumbled to his older member, clearly mortified with what he was insinuating.

“Okay, okay. Well are you at least going to show us what you have been working on. It seems like Channie here wants you all to yourself.” Minhyuk said.

“I thought you had meetings earlier? That’s why you couldn't get here.” You asked confused.

“Nope. Chan told us this time.” You tried to look at Changkyun but he was looking at the floor with bright red cheeks. “Clearly he didn't want us to ruin the moment.”

Looking at Changkyun, you decided not to press on it further. The boy looked like he would feel this humiliation for days. So instead, you went to the desk and pressed play to show the rest of the boys what you two had been working on. The boys left cheeky comments here and there about Changkyun’s obsession with you. The boys were eager to tell you that he had watched every video and interview that you had ever been on. And they were sure on telling you that when you mentioned on TV that you were a fan, he all but fainted on the spot.

When it was time to leave, the boys filled out of the room quickly, leaving you and Changkyun alone once again.

“I’m really sorry about what they said earlier. It's true, I am a huge fan of yours, when you said you’re a fan of us, I may have screamed a little. So I understand if you think that I am coming on too strong. Or was sneaky for wanting to spend some time with you on my own…” Changkyun rambled on. The best way of shutting him up that you could think of was to place a tender kiss on his cheek. It worked wonders.

“You know, I think it works perfectly that I’m a fan of you and you're a fan of me. It shows we both have excellent taste in music.” You winked at him, causing him to giggle slightly. “But it also means that you will have my best intentions at heart. It means that you will care for me and nurture me when I need it. It means that I think you and I should go on a date sometime.” Changkyun struggled to contain his elation at your comment. He grabbed both of your hands and kissed the back of each. He pulled you in close to his chest, and said softly.

“Well, what about now?”

#monsta x #monsta x imagines #monsta x changkyun

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smolbeandrabbles · 5 years

Text

Sure Be Cool If You Did - Ralph Anderson x Reader (The Outsider)

GIF Credit @benmendo

Author’s Note: Hahahahaha.... I know. I’m incredibly early. I’ve jumped the gun! I’ll reblog it when we actually get the show. But I read the book, so here we are! You can’t stop me writing this! Yes, reader has a last name, it’s my little joke. I’m sorry. Disclaimer: I will never, ever, do justice to Stephen King’s genius - but I tried my best! / Lyrics, gifs, characters not mine

Set in an AU where Jeannie & Derek don’t exist *gasp* Heresy!

Premise: After working a case together, Ralph figures he’s got a break through - he needs to tell you about it. But arriving at your house doesn’t turn out as he expects...

Words: 3145

Warnings: Potential “The Outsider” spoilers

_____ Now you're standing in the neon looking like a high I wanna be on Baby it's your call No pressure at all You don't have to keep on smiling that smile that's driving me wild And when the night is almost over Meet me in the middle of a moonlit Chevy bench seat And do a little bit of country song, hanging on You don't have to keep me falling like this But it'd sure be cool if you did You can't shoot me down 'cause you've already knocked me dead Got me falling apart with my heart talking out of my head Let your mind take a little back road just as far as you wanna go Baby, I'll do Whatever you wanna do... --- Ralph Anderson could have just gone home. He should have just gone home, he wasn’t on call, you weren’t on call… It could have waited until the morning. It wasn’t that it was late, just a little unsociable for him to go banging on your door about something he’d thought on from an interview you’d conducted that day, that he thought might be a breakthrough. He drove slowly back home, and took the wrong turn off. Well, no actually he didn’t – he took the correct turn off for what he believed was your address. He felt like you had to know. As his partner you had a right to know. He liked having you around, you were a good wall to just bounce ideas off – you had a similar wavelength, but just diverse enough for you to both interpret things a little differently. Maybe you’d think nothing of it – but he’d never know if he didn’t tell you right now… You were good to have on the team; old enough to be an experienced detective, young enough to still be enthusiastic about every single case you had to work on. Even the ones that had Ralph groaning and wishing he didn’t have to fill paperwork in for. There was just one thing about you though; that had the whole station cracking up. Your last name. It was the same as his. Andersson. You had the extra ‘S’. That made you Anderson & Andersson. And everyone made the same oh, are you together!? joke that was wearing pretty thin pretty quickly on him. Although you’d now come up with a perfectly mysterious counter, with that little smile of yours; “We’re partners, yes.” So here he was, knocking on the door of one Miss.Y/N Andersson. He stood and waited, and when at first there was no answer he wondered why he’d bothered with disturbing you with this… He took a step back to leave, but as he did so the door opened, at first just a crack, and then a little wider. But he wasn’t faced with you, in fact Ralph had to look down to see who he was faced with. Looking up at him with eyes full of curiosity was a little girl who couldn’t have been more than five or six. He was a little taken aback and was thrown into a sudden panic; did he have the wrong address?! Was he about to look like a total idiot? Or maybe this was your house; and he was trying to read too much into this – little sister? Very little sister? Niece? Hell, for all he knew she could just be a kid that you looked after. Ralph realised there was a lengthy awkward silence hanging in the air, and he raised his hand from his pocket; “Uh, Hi?” She didn’t respond, her eyes simply scanned from his face down his body; and widened as they fell on his FCPD badge attached to his belt. Then she was both running and screaming down the corridor he could just about see behind her; “MOMMY!!! MOMMY---!!! THERE’S A DETECTIVE AT THE DOOR---!!” Mommy? Ralph put his hands to his forehead and for a minute felt like the world’s worst detective, world’s worst partner… world’s worst friend? How did I NOT know?! He looked back at the empty corridor and realised he’d only created yet more awkwardness. Well, now you’ve done it Mr.Anderson… He peered around the door; did he walk in? Did he close it and walk away? What if it turned out he was still in the wrong place and the person being called by the girl wasn’t even you-!? As she ran into the kitchen, she paused by you eyes disproportionately wide. You were still flicking through todays paper, as you hadn’t had much of a chance yet, and didn’t really turn to her; “Oh yeah? How’d you know?” As expected, she got her wild imagination from you, and this person could be anyone. “He has a badge like yours... Mommy...!” "Hmmm?" you glanced across to her wide eyes. Clearly she'd just left this Flint City PD member on the front steps too. "... He does!?!" Wait. Did she mean it was a Flint City PD badge...? Or a Flint City... Detectives badge... In which case...“...Alright... What...?” You crept across to the kitchen door leading into the hallway and poked your head around it. Instantly your face reddened. Oh. CRAP. Of all the men to be standing there, hands on his hips, pushing his jacket back to reveal his shiny FCPD Detective insignia… The door wasn't quite closed on him and luckily he wasn't looking up. Ralph Anderson. You pressed yourself up against the door frame again, and took a deep breath. He knew. He knew. He knew. He knew. You closed your eyes for a minute. Okay. Okay... We can't leave him on the front step if he's here for work reasons. You turned back to your daughter for a moment; “Sweetie, why don’t you go watch TV okay? I’ll go talk to him...” She smiled like only a child could, with no clear understanding of the situation; “Okay!!” and off she ran again. You took another deep breath, and counted to ten. You pushed yourself back around and walked briskly up the corridor, just enough on the side of the door half closing his in face to make sure he didn't see you before you put your hands on it. You bit your lip, gave yourself a nod and then pulled it slowly open again: "Uh. Hi...." Ralph gave you a smile, and you noticed his eyes flick behind you to check if she was still there "Yeah. That's exactly what I said.” You bit your lip again and shrugged gently; “...Uh... This is not a... doorstep conversation, please come in.” “Oh. Thank you...” Ralph stepped inside, but then almost immediately countered your reaction; “It’s no big deal! I can’t believe I didn’t know! I’m kinda sorry I didn’t... I mean-” “Thank you.” You shook your head, if he knew she existed, he might as well know everything “But... She’s not mine.” “Oh...?” Clearly there was more to that story, though. You beckoned him through to your kitchen and ending up fixing him a drink. For a little while you both stood in the kitchen in almost absolute silence, watching your little girl absorbed in her cartoons. Ralph’s eyes flicked between the two of you, still thinking: Maybe she was still a blood relative? But then she’s calling Y/N mommy, so...? “She calls you mommy..? Adopted?” “Kinda. Something like that.” “..Something like that...? Does she know you aren’t?” You tipped your head; “I think she does. Somewhere in the back of her mind. I think she does. But, she’s probably not old enough to understand that. And I’m not sure how I’m meant to explain it just yet...” “So... How’d you come to adopt her?” Here came the unprofessional confession, and after some hesitation you decided it’d be worse if you didn’t tell him and he did the research himself; “...Her parents were murdered... It was horrible and certainly not something I want to remember...” Ralph paused his sip; “...She’s a case kid? Your case?” “Umm hmm...” You nodded and you could see his brain working behind those sharp blue eyes; is that even protocol? “...I don’t know what rules I must have broken. But there was NO WAY anyone in that office was going to tell me otherwise.” “What’s her name?” You smiled gently. Now for the punchline that Ralph had to understand was funny; “Renee.” “Renee?” His face split into a grin and he laughed; “She’s genuinely R.Andersson?!” “Yeah. I know.” Ralph’s chuckle continued as he shook his head; “That’s… that’s just-- really great… Wow… You really are something…” You glanced back across to him watching Renee and wondered if he really meant it. You wouldn’t have thought that Ralph Anderson, of all people, would lie… But you also couldn’t help but feel anxious. It’s not like you were dating, but you’d thought about it before. And recently a lot, what it would be like to have your partner as a… partner. But you’d seen it happen so many times before in the nearly four years you’d had her. How you’d start feeling comfortable with someone, but the second they found out about Renee they’d simply leave, and you’d never hear from them again. You tilted your head, wondering if you should simply just voice the concern. Whether you knew if he liked you like that or not; “Does it bother you?” His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes found yours again; “What? NO. No! Why would you...?!” You didn’t have to answer him with words, your look was significant enough; Well, it’s bothered everyone else. Ralph answered that look; “I’m not everyone else.” And he was going to prove it. Taking another sip, he put the cup down and walked out into your little living room. It was all you could do to watch him go, a look of mild surprise on your face. He sat down and addressed her; “Renee! I’m detective Ralph Anderson... It’s nice to meet you.” She was still staring at him in wonder, and even then her eyes could still go wider, of course it was a name she would recognise, you talked about him often enough. “Ralph!?!” She whipped around on the sofa to face you, and you weren’t sure you’d ever seen her look so happy. Turning back to him Renee shout-whispered as only kids can, “She talks about you ALL the time.” It was Ralph’s turn to look at least a little surprised; “Oh. Uh huh!?” “Mommy says you’re the BEST detective ever. That you solved an impossible case!!! You are her idol! She says that a lot!” Alright, that might have been true enough, when your little town PD had asked for someone to transfer to Flint City you’d jumped at the chance to get to work with Ralph Anderson, because you’d heard so much. But that didn’t mean she had to tell him that!!! Faint pink crossed his cheeks, and you knew it was also crossing yours; you couldn’t help but cover your face. Oh Gods! Kids! Renee of course was oblivious to what she’d done, and was now looking between two adults at various stages of red. Ralph eventually cleared his throat to relieve the awkward tension, changing the track of the conversation completely; "Oh! Have you ladies had dinner yet...?" He glanced at his watch; "In fact I'm sure we can go catch a movie." You raised an eyebrow at him, unsure if you were quite hearing this right; “…Like a date?!" He gave a little shrug, but he didn’t miss meeting your eyes, he wasn’t going to be shy about this; "Like dinner and a movie.” Renee apparently didn’t miss a beat, and she gasped; "Mommy! He's asking you on a date!!!" Ralph turned a deeper shade of pink and his eyes flicked between you again, then he gave another shrug and a sweet smile; “I guess a date.” You couldn’t help but give a shy giggle; "I guess I can only say yes... buuut will you let me get changed first!? I gotta look my best if Detective Ralph Anderson is taking me out!" He turned to Renee as you made a move to run to your staircase; “You better be coming too, sweetheart.” You paused at the significance of what he’d just done, and looked back to see her eyes light up. For once, that kid was completely speechless. And so were you. ** If you were truly going to label it a ‘date’ – it was probably one of the best you’d ever been on. Ralph paid you both the adequate amount of attention, and if you hadn’t already fallen for him, you were falling for him now. And there must have been chemistry or something, because you watched the way that even though Ralph gave her attention, when he was talking to you Renee watched you both with a look of awe on her face. Like she was watching something unfold right in front of her. This wasn’t some kind of courtesy, he wanted to know everything, and was willing to give up just as much information. You knew he was a good man, but watching his interaction with your daughter let you know he was also a great one. How he answered her questions, how he showed interest in what she was telling him, even when sometimes it was little babbled childish nonsense. How he picked her up and carried her, but held his hand out for yours. And the smile on his face when you took it. He was falling for you too… Or simply he was letting you know the feeling was mutual… It was sad to see the credits on the movie roll, and knew that you’d now have to go home. Even though he’d be driving you, those few precious minutes on the car ride home wouldn’t be enough. You knew that. So did Ralph, but he decided not to voice it – he’d get to see you at work. This night wouldn’t be lost on him. “You know you don’t have to carry her, right?” “No no… I want to…” You walked to your car, with a sleepy Renee clinging onto Ralph as he held her; “…Besides, you probably have to do this all the time…” “That’s…. what I have to do for my daughter. That’s not a problem.” “Yeah well, tonight, I’m giving your arms a rest – okay?” You chuckled “You don’t need to, but that is very kind of you.” “Oh don’t worry, I can have you hauling evidence boxes around tomorrow to make up for it.” “Oh, God, you’re too kind!” He laughed; “Oh, I try my hardest!” Renee was asleep by the time you’d both belted yourselves into the front of his car; “Ha…” his laugh was soft as he caught her in his rear-view mirror and turned around “…I wore her out!” You turned too; “…God bless you, Ralph Anderson, it takes me years to do that sometimes.” “Well there you go, if you need help, call me.” You made cute small talk again on the way home; and you loved hearing him laugh at all your little inconsequential remarks about things. Talk turned to ridiculous cases; of course it did, you’d both had your fair share… You both still did. The type where you’d turn up, hear it all out and give each other the same here we go look. “OH-!” His brain clicked, and he suddenly remembered the actual reason he’d even bothered to turn up at your house; “I meant to say, I think I have a clue on this case! Because of your interview work-! That… should have been one of the first things I said.” “…Well, I guess tonight was full of surprises…” Ralph smiled, gently, “I guess… Either way, I’m glad that I had the idea to turn up – and didn’t wait until tomorrow morning.” “I guess it can wait until tomorrow morning though…?” You turned to him with a gentle smile “I’m happy you turned up on my doorstep too, Ralph.” He laughed; “It can wait… But I’m glad I did too… She’s a great kid… You’re a good mom…” “Thank you for inviting her.” “Why wouldn’t I?” “Everyone else just runs…” “Well, they’re clearly missing out…” He gave a shrug, “What is wrong with people…” You couldn’t help but almost laugh, considering your line of work - if even the both of you didn’t know; “Well, isn’t that the one great mystery…” There was nothing more telling than the disappointed sigh that escaped your lips as your house pulled into view. Clearly it was a good evening, he’d try not to get too smug about that, but he was certainly happy. You opened the car door slowly, and again didn’t want to leave. “…Do you want me to come help with her?” You shook your head; “No… It’s okay… It’s getting late, Detective, and it sounds like tomorrow is going to be busy…” But your smile was beaming “Thank you, for offering – and… Thank you, for the evening… I had a great time, and again I can’t thank you enough for inviting her.” “No trouble… I had a… great time too.” He didn’t quite meet your eyes this time, and the way he bit his lip was shy. Ralph did still walk you to the door though, even if you were carrying your daughter this time. You were surprised, but also glad, that she was still asleep. Your porch light flicked on automatically as you fished your keys from your bag. “Thank you… again, you… didn’t have to do this… you could have just told me about the case and left.” Your sentence was broken as you unlocked your door and pushed it open, turning back to him. “Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you both had a good time… He watched you for a minute in that light, 20 things at once and she’s still on top of it all… Ralph Anderson couldn’t help it, you were the same at work – so he knew this – but it was different here. There was something all together different about what he’d witnessed from you this evening, so how could he not? “Y/N…” “Mm hm?” His smile was back to shy and humble, like he was about to ask you to break his heart; and he was – “…May I kiss you Goodnight?” About a thousand joyful emotions must have crossed your face at once as you opened your mouth and had to close it again, because you weren’t quite ready. You gave a gentle half-laugh and tried again; “You may.” You were pretty sure you were sharing the same smile as he leaned in and caught your lips with his; the kiss was gentle. But it was still a real kiss. He kept it respectfully short as he pulled away; “Goodnight, Y/N… I’ll see you at work tomorrow…” “Goodnight, Ralph…” You were both shades of pink again “…Thank you for this evening.” “You’re very welcome, hopefully we can do this again?” You nodded “I’d like that… I think we’d both like that.” “Me too…” He gave a smile and turned to leave, but then paused at his car; “You know I was kidding about the heavy lifting at work right!?” You laughed; “We’ll see, Mr.Anderson! We might need to do such things!” “God, I hope not!” He gave a wave, “Sleep well!” “And you…” You watched him reverse from your drive, and on down the road until his tail lights disappeared with a beaming smile on your face. Thank God for case break-throughs… and kids!

--- Thank you for reading! 🙏💕

I think just due to the nature of this one I might keep the #MendoTagSquad out until at least January...!

#Ralph Anderson x Reader #The Outsider #Ben Mendelsohn #Ralph Anderson #Anderson and Andersson Detective Co.#I dunno it was just a little thing I came up with #I want to write more for them but I want to see what he's like in the show first...#HOPEFULLY exactly like the book #Short little sweet thing....#Needed to get it out of my system...#R.Anders(s)on #70 #Harmony

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