#the its tiffany bitch necklace...

[labellolesbe]

Jennifer Tilly as Tiffany Valentine | Chucky 3.04

#chuckyedit #chucky #jennifer tilly #tiffany valentine #* #the its tiffany bitch necklace...

[bijillion]

okay you know i love jewelry and hate the jewelry industry and i think its so funny that they want 70k+ for a necklace you could get on etsy for 70 american dollars just bc some bitch named tiffany de beers got her grubby little hands on it

#basicallt capitalism sucks stop exploiting people flr rocks #im not sober

[artificialqueens]

End of the Day (Crystal x Gigi) - Ashley

A/N: The plan was simple. All Crystal had to do was pretend to be her twin for one week: sit silently in seminars, only leave her room for her basic necessities and stick closely to the set of rules she was left with. Only the rule that stated she “mustn’t bother the bitch from downstairs” became a lot harder for Crystal to follow once she had laid eyes on Gigi Goode.

Hope you guys like this!! Think of it as Breakfast at Tiffany’s meets She’s the Man only at a Russell Group where there’s a stereotype around every corner. Sending infinite thank you’s to Meggie for being a fab beta. p.s thanks so much for all the lovely feedback for Everything Has Changed (I could have cried reading some of it)…xoxo Ashley.

“No way.” Crystal dropped the pencil she toyed with, a laugh squeaking out of her throat at her sister’s audacity.

“It’s only a week,” she pleaded over the phone, the voice that had convinced Crystal to do stupid things since they were children making its reappearance.

“You seriously want me to pretend to be you just so you can jet off to Majorca to see that creep?” 

“Yes!” Elle ignored Crystal’s clear disdain. “That is exactly what I want. We used to do it all the time in school.”

“You’re crazy, actually insane.”

Crystal was used to her sister’s wild antics, but this plot may have been a step too far.

“But you love me.”

“I hate you.”

“It’s not like you have any plans.” Elle held no hesitation in poking the bear - the boundaries between the two twins almost non-existent.

“I have Depop orders actually,” Crystal snapped back, a tiny part of resentment that her sister was attending one of the best universities in the country whilst she was sitting at home making jewellery rising inside of her body but not quite breaking the surface.

“£200.”

Crystal stopped in her tracks - now she was listening.

“It won’t work anyway, people will notice!”

“They won’t. I don’t speak to anyone in my college anyway and my course friends won’t say anything, just stay in bed all day once you’ve been to my seminars. I’ll even give you my Disney+ password.”

A hint of worry rose in Crystal’s mind; she wondered how her more outgoing other half had managed to go to university and not make friends in her accommodation. Where Crystal was shy and nervous throughout the entirety of her education, Elle had never been afraid to put herself out there, always surrounded by one group of pretty girls or another. “So what am I supposed to do in these seminars then? It’s not like I have an extensive knowledge of anthropology is it?”

“All you have to do is sign in and sit there pretending to type - they don’t even pick on you I swear. And it’s the last week before we break up so everyone will be really chill.”

“£300,” Crystal responded, the idea of escaping the four walls of her bedroom whilst making three months of her usual income beginning to tempt her, cursing internally at how easily convinced she was.

“I can’t give you £300.” Crystal could hear that her sister was talking through a grin despite not being able to see her face, the grin that meant she’d won.

“Well, you can’t go to Majorca then.”

“Three hundred pounds it is,” Elle agreed. “But you better get me a decent Christmas present.”

“Deal,” Crystal responded, knowing she had already purchased her sister’s gift two months prior. “Now, tell me absolutely everything I need to know about collegiate life.”

“It’s a good job. I knew you’d say yes and already planned this part out.” Elle beamed, proud at her ability to convince her timid younger-by-ten-minutes sister to do almost anything.

***

If secondary school was supposed to be a jungle of cliques, then Elle’s college may as well have been the Amazon rainforest.

Walking through the incredibly hard to find dining hall for breakfast, Crystal could make out almost every university stereotype she could think of, each confined to their own special hold.

From the druggies to the athletes, to the Oxbridge rejects, to the girls who borrowed daddy’s credit card - they were all there and thriving. A small part of Crystal wanted to go and sit with who she decided were the artsy girls despite knowing her sister wouldn’t be caught dead doing so.

Trying not to draw attention to herself, she kept her head down as she made it to the front of the queue, Elle’s clear step-by-step of how she approached meals playing through her head on repeat, the weeks of planning for this moment all coming into play.

Only at that moment, she panicked, the child’s paint by numbers that were her instructions started to turn into a set of IKEA diagrams without captions in her brain. Wishing she’d stuck to eating a pot noodle in her sister’s room, Crystal’s body froze in a state of fear after dolloping a ladle of baked beans onto her toast. A tonne (or maybe ten tonnes) of bricks smacked her right between the eyes. She knew she wouldn’t be able to pull this off. The lack of self-confidence she always battled with ran thick through her veins, her thoughts turning to ways she could go home and return to the comfort of her hometown, willing to sacrifice her sister’s already flagged attendance and the three hundred pounds to be watching Bake Off with her mam in the kitchen.

It almost happened in slow motion, time losing its speed as the boy behind her walked into Crystal’s back, propelling her tray forward onto an unsuspecting blonde. An unsuspecting blonde who seemed the opposite of dumb.

“What the fuck?” She snapped her head around to Crystal, thick brows furrowed and pink lips pursed.

“I’m sorr-” Crystal started, beating herself up internally at how she had managed to do the exact opposite of laying low despite being only one night into her weeklong mission.

“This won’t come out!” The girl started turning her neck frantically to the back of her shirt, the white satin stained bright orange.

Her mouth opening but no words coming out, Crystal didn’t have a chance to apologise again before the girl had a swarm of minions dabbing her back with tissues.

“It’ll be okay, G.” One of them took her hand.  Crystal wanted to burst out in tears like she usually did at the smallest sign of conflict, pinching the skin on the back of her hand and looking at the white ceiling lights to stop herself.

“So long as people look where they’re going.” The girl, G, cast a terrifying yet beautiful scowl in Crystal’s direction before sauntering away.

So much for laying low, she sighed before leaving the queue herself, her body tingling as if she’d hit her funny bone over a dozen times. The girl’s stare still imprinted in the back of her eyes.

Having narrowly avoided a panic attack, Crystal thought hard about her old coping mechanisms and tried her best to remain positive as she did after these situations, sitting down at an empty table and giving herself a pat on the back that she had at least passed as Elle without any doubts, ready to take the rest of her day by storm (also known as sitting in silence and occasionally nodding her head as a bunch of middle ages men discuss human evolution and diversity).

***

Having achieved three B grades by the end of sixth form and the award for ‘most creative’ in their final assembly, Crystal always thought of herself as somewhat intelligent and capable of living in the real world despite her decision not to go to university like her sister.

Yet there she stood, her face in a scowl and her fist in a ball, completely and utterly perplexed by the laundry system.

After sleeping in her sister’s dirty sheets the night before, she had arrived back to the college with hopes of resting her head on a pillow that wasn’t mascara stained and washing her face with a flannel sans toothpaste blobs (which was basic hygiene in Crystal’s opinion, but she hadn’t expected anything more from her twin). Only those dreams were temporarily dashed as she spent an entire thirty minutes pressing buttons and swiping the card Elle had left her manically against an aged machine. 

Thirty-six internet searches and two desperate phone calls to her sister later, Crystal was beaming at the sheets swirling around, not a care in the world at how much of a psychopath she would look to anyone entering the room, the stress she had previously faced in getting the machine to work inducing her to stay and wait for the clothes to wash instead of leaving them like normal practice. 

Elle had seemed happy on the phone, gushing to Crystal about how tanned she’d gotten in such a short space of time and how delicious all the food was - Crystal shutting her down quickly by reminding her that such a tan would only alert their mother to the fact she’d spent a week abroad visiting the sleazy holiday rep she’d fallen in love with that summer rather than in the brown-bricked, straight from a horror movie, sixties’ style complex that Crystal was currently residing in.

Crystal made a mental note to text her mam later and tell her how much she was enjoying her time “visiting her sister” - knowing fine well that talking to her on the phone would probably cause her to crumble and confess their scheme.

She had always been a family orientated person, always choosing a night in the house watching movies over playing out with friends, crying buckets the day her sister moved out and started a new chapter of her life without her. It was clear her mother wanted her to get out into the world, knowing she was capable of more than selling jewellery online, but unlike her sister, Crystal wasn’t quite ready to leave her home yet, needing that extra push to get her feet moving that just hadn’t come her way yet.

She figured that spending a week pretending to be her sister may actually be a good start.

Lost away with her head in the clouds like usual, Crystal was snapped back to surface level as her phone chimed to signal the end of the cycle, only to find herself even more frustrated when she realised that no dryers were free.

Today really hadn’t been her day. 

She personally blamed the lack of lucky necklace around her neck (Elle telling her specifically during their planning stages that she would never wear such a monstrosity and Crystal following suit despite knowing it was only entrenched in their rules because her sister thought it was ugly). Her secret superstitious side kicking in, she thanked herself for bringing some of her jewellery making gadgets with her, figuring she’d have to make her own version of it, for now, it wasn’t as if she had any better way to spend her evening.

Seeing a dryer with two minutes left until it timed out, Crystal figured she’d simply wait until it had been emptied to use it, allowing her brain to return back to Pinterest for a short period of time.

But ten minutes passed and no one came to empty the machine.

She glanced at the other piles of clothes that lay on top of the machines, figuring it was normal to remove other people’s when none were free, the thought of her sheets staying wet and crinkled making her feel uneasy.

Opening the dryer, she was hit immediately by a waft of lavender, reassuring herself that it was okay to move the clothes and feeling almost proud of herself for making a leap the old Crystal would have ran from in fear of awkwardness. 

Being her most careful, she picked the clothes one by one and started to fold them, her brain subconsciously admiring the mystery tartan-wearer’s sense of fashion and wishing she had the confidence to wear some of the outfits. That was when her hands met a satin blouse, a familiar satin blouse with an orange tinge on its white back.

Before she had time to process that the clothes she was moving belonged to the pretty girl from breakfast, Crystal’s train of thought was interrupted by the devil herself.

“Admiring your handiwork?” She strutted over and snatched the shirt back from Crystal’s hands.

Crystal couldn’t quite place her accent but she knew it was Southern. Her overactive imagination hearing the girl whisper dirty thoughts to her in that posh voice without being able to stop herself.

Oh, fuck.

“I’m sorry.” Crystal turned to her, not even attempting to act like anything other than the soft wimp she was inside. “I didn’t mean to.”

Crystal looked into the girl’s eyes, almost seeing her melt a little before her.

She felt the tension between them, dense and heavy in the air.

“It’s fine,” the blonde responded, losing the passive-aggressive tone she’d carried beforehand but still not sounding entirely sincere as she began to throw her clothes into her hamper. 

Crystal couldn’t help but gawk a little as she began to strut away, her body swishing like a model’s as she made her way out of the room, pausing for a second at the door.

“Can you do me a favour, though?” the girl called back to Crystal.

‘I think I’d give both of my kidneys to you’ Crystal thought. Only it instead came out as an awkwardly stuttered, “Erm, sure.”

“Turn your music down, please.” She shot a sarcastic smile in Crystal’s direction. Crystal felt it burrow straight through her chest cavity and into her fast-beating heart. “I know that anthropology may be a bit simpler than most degrees, but some of us really struggle to work when all they can hear is your shit music directly above them.”

Her mouth dropping open to catch flies as the girl left the room for good, a pang of realisation hit Crystal.

Opening her phone and flicking through the dramatic guide to her sister’s university life that was now saved at the top of her notes, she found what she’d been looking for:

“12. DO NOT, under any circumstances, bother the bitch downstairs.”

Too late, Crystal thought to herself, wondering how many more of her sister’s rules she would have broken by the end of the week.

***

Crystal would be lying if she said she hadn’t been watching out for the blonde that week, whose name she had figured out (after an intensive Facebook stalking session) to be Gigi. 

Yes, she was lying low, not leaving Elle’s room other than for seminars and to eat - but that didn’t stop her from taking stolen glances at the girl across the dining hall or walking up that second flight of stairs to the room just a fraction slower than she did the first flight.

Three days at university and she’d somehow turned back into a fourteen-year-old girl fantasising about the most popular girl in the class.

Except this time, the popular girl didn’t even know her real name.

She felt like Tracy from Hairspray - one look and she could hear the wedding bells playing in the back of her head. 

But at the same time, Crystal knew what was at stake - leaving their interactions to intense eye contact and mumbled “excuse mes,” knowing that even speaking to Gigi again could blow her entire cover.

Yet, she somehow managed to do exactly that on Wednesday night. Or, technically, the early hours of Thursday morning.

At first, Crystal tried to ignore the argument below her, drowning out their voices with her headphones (partly because she felt like she was intruding and partly because listening to people screaming at each other, like a lot of things, made her cry). However, as the war below was still awaiting a cease-fire, snippets of conversation slid their way into the room.

“Why do you have to do this on every night out?”

“I just want what’s best for you.”

“You don’t know what’s best for me.”

She could hear the pain in Gigi’s voice heighten right before her door slammed, Crystal wincing in bed at the sound.

Expecting to hear male footsteps stomp away, Crystal was surprised to instead hear lighter ones, making their way up the stairs and past her landing, a muffled sob travelling through her door.

Looking out of the window, she squinted in the dark until she saw the red glow of a cigarette from their fire escape, the hum of an unfamiliar tune making its way through the thin walls.

She knew it was a risk, but it was one that Crystal couldn’t help but take when she thought of the beautiful girl from the laundry room freezing in the cold.

Grabbing her sister’s spare dressing gown, she made her way onto the landing, taking a deep breath before going out onto the fire escape.

Logic and speech pushed to the back part of her mind, Crystal simply made her way over to the other girl and sat down beside her, placing the dressing gown over her slim shoulders.

Even in the dark, she could see how perfect Gigi was.

The mole on the side of her cheek.

The soft pout on her lips.

Despite the mascara smudged down her face and her eyes stinging red, Crystal thought she looked like an angel.

“Hi,” Gigi spoke to her, dropping the cigarette she smoked on the floor and pressing it out with her trainers. 

“Hi,” Crystal spoke back, unsure of what to say to the girl, blood rushing through her at a rate of knots, nervous filling her body and bursting through her head like she was some sort of human kettle.

“I guess you know what I mean about the music now.”

“Yeah.” Crystal nodded in the dark. “It’s noted.”

“I’m sorry about Karl…” Gigi trailed off, taking some time before speaking again. “He just gets like that sometimes when he’s had a drink. I know he doesn’t mean it. I guess you know that.”

Unsure of who Karl was, or why she was supposed to know that, Crystal began to feel like she was drowning. Only instead of jumping on the next lifeboat, she swam down deeper for Gigi.

A part of her was afraid, afraid she’d read the aura surrounding the other girl so wrong, afraid that Karl was her boyfriend.

“Mmhmm,” Crystal responded, maybe a bit more high pitched than she naturally would have.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s my best friend. But sometimes a part of me thinks that he just doesn’t have any idea who I really am if you get me.” 

Crystal couldn’t have understood any better at that moment.

All she wanted to do was tell her. To tell her how hard it was when everyone expected you to be the same as another person. How awful it felt when they never knew the real you, only a shell of the more outgoing sister.

Only she couldn’t, so she did the next best thing and placed her hand on the girl’s forearm, instantly getting a shock at how cold she felt.

“Do you wanna go inside? We can make hot chocolate,” she suggested, noting how Gigi’s body relaxed under her touch.

“He’s still in my room.” Gigi rolled her eyes. “I just can’t deal with him right now, it needs to be left for the morning.”

“You can stay in mine,” Crystal asked, squeezing her grip ever so slightly.

What was she doing?

This wasn’t part of the plan.

And it was certainly breaking some of the rules.

Potentially all of them combined.

This was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

But nothing filled her with greater relief then when Gigi finally responded: “If you don’t mind, thank you.”

***

At first, she felt awkward as she let Gigi into the room, especially considering the fact it wasn’t hers. But after two hot chocolates each she had felt the most comfortable and at peace as she had since masquerading as her sister.

She watched as Gigi’s eyes made their way around the room, a kid in a sweetie shop, gawking at the treasures around her.

“What’s that?” she spoke between sips, pointing towards Crystal’s craft box that had been haphazardly set up on her sister’s desk.

“Oh.” Crystal went to pick it up, a flutter of warmth rushing through her at the thought of someone, let alone Gigi, being interested in her jewellery. “Just some bits and bobs I make.”

“These are so cool.” Gigi held a pair of scarlet earrings up and examined them closer, her mouth opening slightly as she focused. “Like the ones you had in the other day.”

Crystal’s face turned a deeper red than the earrings, the thought of Gigi remembering what she wore sending shivers down her spine - her head telling her heart on an auto loop that no matter what she thought about Gigi, all of Gigi’s returned thoughts were instead about Elle.

“Yeah,” she choked out, nipping her skin to bring herself back to reality.

“You should sell these!” Gigi gasped as she rooted through more of Crystal’s collection. “I sell the clothes I make on Depop, we’d make a great team.”

Crystal didn’t get a chance to respond. She was too busy picking the pieces of her exploding heart from the carpet and trying to put it back together again.

“In fact.” Gigi grabbed her phone and began to search.

Crystal decided that her thinking face was even cuter than her regular face.

She was in deep. Too deep.

 “I think I follow an account that does stuff like this, let me think, something to do with crystals…”

Way, way too deep.

“I’m feeling a bit tired.” Crystal blurted awkwardly, getting mad at her mother for never placing her in acting lessons as a child, ready for the inevitable week that she’d have to pretend to be her twin sister or else she’d be kicked out of university and murdered by their family. Seeing the almost defeated look on Gigi’s face, she tried again. “But you can show me in the morning?”

“I’d love that.” Gigi smiled.

Crystal wanted to rewind time just to hear that sentence again. She wouldn’t be too greedy, she’d only listen to it one more time. Two at a push.

Making sure to go into the en suite as Gigi got changed, Crystal returned to find her in bed, already asleep, her hair a sprawl of honey against the pink pillows.

She waited a second before turning off the light and getting into bed beside her, something about lying next Gigi sending Crystal into a sleepy haze despite the way her heart had been beating so fast just moments before.

She could hear Gigi breathing, snoring just a little, finding her own breathing starting to sync along.

Sleep was only minutes away from taking over her body when she heard it, the muffled cry coming from the other side of the bed.

“No.” She heard Gigi mumble as she tossed from one side to the other. “Don’t go.”

Crystal placed a reassuring hand on her arm without thought. “Are you alright?”

Gigi woke startled, her eyes beaming at Crystal like a young deer caught in the middle of the road.

“I’m fine.” She realised her surroundings and threw the quilt to one side, moving her body down to the bottom end of the bed. “I best be off.”

“Hey.” Crystal sat up, flicking the lamp on by her bedside. “It’s alright, we can-”

But before she could finish, Gigi was gone. Nothing more than the faint smell of lavender on the pillows and the dark ring of hot chocolate in the bottom of her sister’s mug.

***

Making her way back into the college that evening, Crystal waited by the entrance for a few moments, wondering if she could manage to get to Elle’s room without passing the drinks and shenanigans that were currently taking place in front of her, wondering if she could manage to make it without passing Gigi, more precisely.

Tesco carrier bags full to the brim of every comfort food she could gorge on (salami, cheese, salt and vinegar crisps and three different bars of dairy milk to be precise) as she watched her sister’s Disney+ alone, Crystal concluded that the coast was clear and made her way to the bottom of her stairs without passing Gigi.

The words of the note she had posted under Elle’s door the day beforehand were still dancing around Crystal’s mind like a puzzle that even Professor Layton couldn’t solve:

“Elle, please forgive me for this morning. I don’t know what happens when I get like that..we’re all having drinks at around 8 tomorrow if you wanna join? - Gigi.”

As much as she longed to join Gigi for a drink, Crystal knew that she couldn’t. She’d already put too much on the line, allowed herself to get too close, too emotionally invested. A short text from Elle asking if everything was okay scared her straight, there was too much at stake. Yes, she wanted more than anything to be the one who comforted Gigi the next time she had a nightmare, to make jewellery for her and kiss her forehead whenever she looked stressed. But family meant everything to her, and she knew if anyone were to find out what they’d done, the consequences wouldn’t be worth it. 

About to make her way up the stairs, Crystal felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Let me help with those,” the boy motioned to her bags, his voice familiar.

With dark hair slicked back, and skin the colour of caramel, it took Crystal a second to realise where she knew the boy from, remembering his face next to Gigi’s in their corner of the dining hall.

“I’m fine, they’re not heavy.” Crystal tried to walk away but was stopped by his voice, yet again.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come help? It’s been a little while, Elle.” He grinned, a smirk in his eyes that Crystal couldn’t quite trace.

“I’m sorry, I’ll have to catch up with you later,” Crystal responded, trying to remain calm on the outside as her insides reached peak panic mode, her brain mentally scanning her notes for anything mentioning this boy. Her search found no results.

“Oh I get it,” he laughed. “It’s one of your games.  Sure, you wanna catch up later.”

That’s when the realisation hit Crystal. Her sister was having sex with this boy. And she completely failed to mention it.

Trying to think of something to say, a heavy silence lingered between them. Broken by a familiar tone that managed to scare her half to death and turn her on at the same time.

“Karl.” Gigi shook her head as she made her way down the staircase, carrying what looked like a sippy cup of vodka red bull in her hands. “Do you mind not trying to shag every girl in college for five seconds?”

“I’ll see you later, Elle.” He muttered before strutting away with Gigi, Crystal making out the word ‘cockblock’ in their hushed conversation as they left.

She knew that Elle didn’t tell her everything.

Just because they were twins they didn’t have to know every detail of each other’s lives, even though they spoke every day. Crystal always knew that. But a part of her heart stung at the thought of her sister not even telling her about a boy she was sleeping with. Is that how far apart they’d grown since Elle came to uni? 

Fighting back tears, she made her way up the stairs and tried to call her sister. She knew she was being silly; a part of her had just thought she’d know when her sister was sleeping with someone. So many questions ran through her mind. Was Elle safe? Did she love him? Why didn’t anyone know? 

She tried to call again, no answer.

Gigi must have known, Crystal figured - slotting together their interaction the night before with the one they’d just had. Is that why Elle didn’t like her? Why they weren’t friends? Why she’d told Crystal to avoid her?

She answered on the fifth call.

“Hey, babe, I really can’t talk right now.” 

Crystal ignored her sister’s words, dropping her shopping outside the door and moving out onto the fire escape, the cold breeze hitting her face harshly.

“Who’s Karl?” 

“Oh.” She heard her other half’s surprise, she could see the look on her face, high definition in Crystal’s mind. “I told you not to speak to people, for fuck sake, Crystal.”

“Who’s Karl?”

“I can’t speak about this now.” Her tone lowered, clearly someone else was in her company.

“Who’s Karl?” Crystal asked again, not even stopping to think about how dramatic she was being.

Only her sister had hung up before she could get an answer.

Crystal didn’t know how long she’d been out there when she heard the door open, she didn’t even know if she was still crying or not.

“Hi,” Gigi spoke, almost a whisper, as she approached her. “We gotta stop meeting like this, hey?”

Crystal watched Gigi’s face drop a little at the sight of her, looking hurt the second she got close enough to see her tears.

“Yeah, I-” Crystal started but was swiftly interrupted.

Normally in films, it happened after a moment. 

The pair would talk, get deep about their issues, reach a comforting solution then sit for a moment in an all-knowing silence.

Then they’d look into each other’s eyes, letting them flicker down once or twice before meeting again, that lock not leaving until they were shut.

Next came the strand of hair, pushed away and tucked neatly behind the ear.

Finally, the kiss, slow at first then growing in passion.

Only Gigi had no patience.

It took Crystal a second to react, to realise what was happening, to press her lips back against Gigi’s, to race her hand through the other girl’s hair.

It was unexpected.

Yet it felt nothing but natural.

And right.

“I’m sorry.” Gigi pulled away, pausing to bite her tongue between her teeth, a nervous side of her appearing that Crystal had not yet seen. “I know that’s like the last thing you’re meant to do when someone’s upset but, I don’t know, you just looked so sad and-”

This time Crystal wasn’t going to let her finish.

She felt Gigi’s hands wipe the stray tears from her face before moving right down her body to her waist. Moving her body closer so she was almost straddling the other girl, Gigi pulled away for just a second to let out a breath. 

Crystal moved her hands round to Gigi’s back, further and further down until she was granted a nod of permission, letting them slide over the silky fabric of her skirt.

Before Crystal knew it she was being pushed back to the ground, Gigi’s long and beautiful body towering over her, as she got to her knees and began to kiss Crystal all over.

Gently, methodically, slowly. 

Crystal’s mind was carried away, far from reality and refusing to take away from the moment in front of her.

“I knew you wanted me.” She felt Gigi’s breath tickle her ear, sending hot flushes down her entire body, reaching her hands out to touch the other girl’s breasts.

“Fuck, Elle.” Gigi grinned, flicking a switch in Crystal’s body as she pushed herself backwards away from her touch.

She’d almost forgotten that part.

Looking at the other girl’s confused face, she was lost for words, pulling the strap of her vest top back in its place. She knew she couldn’t do it anymore, she couldn’t keep lying. She would have let Gigi sleep with her thinking that she was someone else. She’d become a monster. She had to tell the truth.

“What the fuck?” A voice came from the door behind them, Karl’s confused face flicking between the pair of them. “Is this a joke?”

“Shit,” Gigi muttered and stood up, but Crystal was frozen in place, her hands and feet turning numb with anxiety, the sky around them warping in time. “I can explain.”

Crystal watched as Gigi chased her friend back into the building, listening to her tell him she was sorry and she just got carried away. Listening to Karl ask if that was why she’d told him to stop sleeping with her. Listening to Gigi explain that it wasn’t it, that something had just changed recently. Listening to her life crumble around her.

And then she heard nothing at all.

Even when she knocked on Gigi’s door later that night, ready to give her the explanation she needed, Crystal heard nothing at all - eventually giving in and retreating to the cave of Elle’s room, with no plans to leave it until their train pulled in at the station. 

***

Looking up at the hideous brown bricks in front of her, Elle Barge never thought she’d be so relieved to see the college in her life.

One day earlier than she was supposed to return, she hoped that Crystal would forgive her for withholding some of the stuff she’d been doing at university, thinking that they could have one fun night together before getting the train home the next day, giving at least a hint of truth to their family when they arrived back.

Besides, her holiday romance meet-up hadn’t exactly gone the way she had planned when she accidentally met up with his wife. Hence her early departure.

She figured she’d just have to chalk this one up to being a good story to tell, throwing away her sadness at the thought of having a best-selling novel about her awful love life someday. 

Heck, she’d probably already have half of it written with just stories about Karl.

Walking up the stairs to her room, she rolled her eyes at the sight in front of her.

One thing she certainly had not missed was Gigi Goode braying on her door to tell her to turn her music down.

Surely, Crystal wasn’t irritating her, Elle thought to herself. The only music Crystal ever played was One Direction and she hardly blasted it.

“Ahem.” Elle coughed loudly enough for Crystal to hear from inside the room, praying she’d understand with her magic twin sense not to come out (also quickly texting her not to incase the magic twin sense failed them. Elle did not want a repeat of that time in year nine when Jackie Cox asked if they could read each other’s minds).

“Hey.” Gigi turned to face her, a strange look on her face that Elle couldn’t quite decode. Tension started to seep through the stained carpet and up the walls like lava.

“Hi?” Elle raised an eyebrow to her, more of a question than a greeting. 

“I’m sorry for ignoring you before,” Gigi started, nodding her head as she got into the rhythm of her speech. “I was just scared and I didn’t know how to say it but I can now. Please just listen and wait ‘til I’m done, I have to explain.”

Minefields began exploding inside Elle’s brain.

She simply nodded.

“I’ve been fucked over in the past. And it still scares me today. You know the other night? That was it, I haven’t felt myself get close to anyone in a while. And I know it’s bad because of Karl and I’m a shitty friend to him but honestly, I think that this is something bigger than that, cause I’ve not felt it for a while. And I think you feel it too. Look, I’m really shit at this but something changed this week, I saw you in this light I’d never caught you in. I might sound mad but I think that I need you.”

Looking back at the girl in front of her with dismay, Elle spoke back the only three words that rang through her brain at that moment.

“What the fuck.”

And then her door opened, her sister’s face peeking out around the corner, clad in the same expression she used to have whenever she’d spilt juice on the carpet or smashed plate. Her hair matted and eyes puffy, Elle immediately moved to her side.

And then Gigi uttered the three words as well - only adding a “fucking” in there too for good measure.

Killing the silence that lingered for some time, Crystal spoke the fastest sentence Elle had ever heard all in one breath: “I’ve been pretending to be my sister so she could go get fucked by a Spanish guy.”

“Wow.” Elle looked back and forth between the pair, recognising a glint in her sister’s eyes that was certainly not there before.

Crystal prepared herself and walked up to Gigi, placing her hand on her arm. “I wanted to tell you so bad. I was going to but then Karl came and everything got messy. I know you probably can’t forgive me, but I saw that bigger thing too and I let myself get carried away in it.”

Gigi looked between the pair and raised a hand to her mouth, letting out a hearty laugh. 

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Elle pleaded, fear rising inside her.

Silence filled the landing again, the twins standing sheepishly as they gave time for Gigi to process.

“If I’m honest I think I’m less confused now.” Gigi turned to face Crystal and grinned, showing an emotion Elle didn’t think the Barbie doll was even capable of showing. “This makes a lot more sense.”

Elle watched as her sister grinned back, seeing the genuine happiness on her face and throwing away all thoughts about whether or not she’d get in trouble.

“I think I might just be able to forgive you.” Gigi looked her up and down, pouting her lips in a joking manner. “If you let me take you out so we can talk this through over dinner?”

“Yes,” Crystal responded without hesitation.

“But first, could you tell me your name?”

“Crystal.” Elle watched as her sister reached out and shook the other girl’s hand, proud of the growth in confidence she could see - happy to see the return of the happy-go-lucky Crystal who wasn’t too scared to try anything new that she knew as a child.

“Crystal,” Gigi repeated, smiling to herself. “So Crystal, do you go to uni or just hang around at other people’s?”

“Maybe next year.” Crystal smiled back a sense of optimism in her voice. “Are we going for this dinner or what?”

Although it took her a minute to take in what she’d seen, a strange feeling inside of her as she waved her sister goodbye for a date with her bitchy downstairs neighbour, Elle couldn’t help but think that her disaster vacation had all happened for a good reason. In fact, she found herself almost shedding a tear as she heard her sister laughing at something Gigi said on their way downstairs, figuring that she might just see more of her sister than usual next term (and being nothing but happy about it).

#rpdr fanfiction #crystal methyd #gigi goode #crygi #angst #lesbian au #university au #end of the day #ashley #concrit welcome #submission #s12 #college au

[hurricanerin]

Not Just One of Your Many Toys 1: Don’t Tell Me What to Do

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale/OFC

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS, loss of virginity, power imbalance, general dickishness

Summary: Ransom and Olivia have been thorns in each other’s sides for fifteen years.  They’ve tolerated one another, coaxed each other through major milestones, and trampled on one another’s hearts.  After years spent healing from one of Ransom’s toxic outburst, Olivia finds herself subpoenaed by the Drysdale family as a character witness for his criminal trial.  Their son is out of control, and the one person with the best chance of getting through to him wants absolutely nothing to do with the man.   

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Boston, 2005

 There has never been a moment in my life that I haven’t known exactly who Ransom Drysdale is.  We met in the fall of 2005, right after my dad was promoted with General Electric and my family had moved to Boston from Puerto Rico for his new job. I was 13 and Ransom was 19, and I could’ve told you within 5 minutes of enduring his company that he was a playboy and a Grade A narcissist.  

My parents and his mom, the legendary Linda Drysdale, had closed on our new house the week before.  When my papá had mentioned to our realtor that he had 6 engineer brothers and sisters in PR also looking to move to the Boston area, Linda immediately swooped in and took over the sale.  We had moved into the new house for two days when who showed up on our doorstep with a giant Harry and David gift basket on his mother’s behalf? Ransom.  I’ve never seen my mom so taken with a man so quickly.  It was absolutely nauseating.  

My mom and I had been sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast with my little brother when Ransom waltzed in, ruining our meal.  While he charmed my mom, I shooed Gian from the table, stuffed him into his coat and boots and shoved his toast into his hand.  

“You’re gonna miss your bus, vete,” I said with an affectionate push.

He waved me off, but I could see his smile as he scrambled out the door towards his friends.  When I turned around, Mamá was on the phone, distractedly scribbling on a notepad at the center island.  Ransom had seated himself at our table and was examining the gift basket. After retrieving a pear, he rearranged the treats so it looked as if nothing were missing.  Catching my eye, he shot me a grin, took a bite of the fruit and flaunted it in front of me.

“Want some?”

My mom’s groan of frustration cut off my retort as she hung up.  Without missing a beat, Ransom hid the pear behind his leg.

Clipping her beeper to the waist of her skirt, she motioned at my backpack.  “Ol, you need to get your school stuff and hop in the car, I have to go to the hospital early.  I need to drive you; school is on the way.  A patient needs to go into surgery now.”

I scowled and put my hands on my hips. “I’m taking the bus with my friends. You said at this school I could!”

Already gathering her coat and keys, she shook her head.  “I’m sorry, mija.  Not today.  Come on, we need to go.  I can’t leave you alone at home for that long.”

My nose started to sting.  I didn’t want to sit at school alone for an hour and have to explain to my new friends why I wasn’t on the bus like everyone else.

Carefully watching the interaction, Ransom cleared his throat.  “Mrs. Santos, I would be happy to stay with her until her bus comes.  I’m home on break from Yale for the week and would love nothing more than to get to know your daughter,” he offered, radiating charisma.

“Oh Ransom, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Honestly, our house is only a few streets away, so we’re practically neighbors.  It would be no problem.”

She hesitated, glancing from Ransom to her watch. Back home, we didn’t have babysitters. Family played that role.  I couldn’t imagine leaving her 13 year-old home alone with a strange man was high on her list of things to do in the US.

Ransom read the situation well.  “Mrs. Santos, my girlfriend is just at my parents’.  Why don’t I give her a call and the three of us can clean up the kitchen until…,” he motioned at me.

“Olivia,” I snipped.

He didn’t flinch.  “Until Olivia’s bus comes,” he finished with a smile.

“I suppose… that would be alright,” Mamá agreed.  “Your family is so kind!”  Sighing in relief, she snagged me for a kiss goodbye and scurried towards the door.  “Behave, Ol! I’ll see you at dinner,” she shouted over her shoulder.

I listened to the garage door close and turned to find him thumbing through the Harry and David catalogue while dabbing pear juice from his lips with a napkin.  I glared at him for a minute.

“You and your mom are just being nice to my parents because I have a lot of aunts and uncles moving here,” I accused.

He looked up, laughing in surprise.  Nodding his head to the side, he shrugged a shoulder, “You’re not wrong.  Did they tell you that?”

“No, but I can tell.”

A soft ping sounded and he patted his pockets, pulling out a phone from his jacket.  He continued nibbling at the pear until all that was left was the core, then absently dumped it on my abandoned breakfast plate.  I walked closer and peered at the screen in his hands while he typed furiously.

“Do you have any games on your phone?” I asked.

“This isn’t a phone, it’s a Blackberry.”

“Do you have any games on your Blackberry?  Like Snake?  My mom’s phone has Snake.”

“No, it doesn’t have Snake,” he snapped as he pulled a headset from his jacket pocket and plugged it into the headphone jack. Almost immediately it rang and he slipped the earpiece on, pushing me.

“Jackson?”  He sighed at me in irritation and turned away.  “Yeah, come up this weekend.  They’re two Norwegian bitches, semi-professional skiers or something. Super hot.  They’re in the US to train but stopping to vacation in New England or whatever.”  He ran his finger along the wicker of the gift basket while he listened to his friend respond.  With an exasperated sigh, he shook his head.  “No, no, we don’t need to take them sailing for them to put out.”

I stared at him, my jaw dropping.  I knew it was rude to both stare and eavesdrop, but I had never met anyone who was so blatantly awful.

“They’ll fuck us because I’m crazy rich, bro, don’t worry,” Ransom chuckled.  He leaned back against the table and rolled his eyes as his friend prattled on, until his gaze landed on me.  His eyes widened.

“Shit,” he muttered.  “Jax, I’m not alone.  I gotta go.”

He yanked the earpiece off and tossed it on the table, leaning towards me with his elbows on his knees.  

I scowled.  “You don’t really have a girlfriend who’s coming over.”

“Olivia,” he said with a practiced smile that actually reached his beaming eyes.  Ignoring my statement, he took me in for a moment, cataloguing my appearance as his gaze came to rest on my neck.

“That’s such a pretty necklace you’re wearing, did you pick it out yourself?”

My insides tingled a little.  I didn’t like-him-like-him or anything, but he did look like a prince and he had complemented the starfish necklace my parents had given me for my birthday last summer.  It was my favorite.

“It was a present from my mom and dad, from when I turned 13 last year.”

“Christ,” he muttered under his breath.  Something about me being a kid.  I didn’t know what that meant, because he made an angry face. But that quickly went away and then his prince face was back.

“That was my friend Jackson on the phone,” he motioned at his Blackberry with his thumb, “We go to college together.  We joke around a lot,” he chuckled, rubbing my shoulder. “You do that with your friends, too, right?  Tell jokes, mess around?”

Confused and skeptical, I nodded.

“And you don’t always tell those jokes to your parents, because they don’t understand them.  You keep them between you and your friends.”

I raised my brow, trying to look formidable.  “You don’t want me to tell my mom what you were talking about.”

The friendliness in his expression melted away, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards instead.  “Exactly.”

 To this day, I wish I could say I stuck up for myself; that I told my mom how much of a jerk he was.  How he was a deceptive, womanizing liar who didn’t deserve an ounce of our time.  But, I didn’t.  Instead, I stooped to Ransom’s level.

My family had money; my mom was a physician and my dad a senior engineer for GE.  We lived very comfortably.  We had spent several months in the US in an apartment before finding the house, during which they had been earning American salaries and making more than ever.  But, both of my parents came from humble means, sent a lot of money back home to their own parents and grandparents, and did not appreciate the materialism I faced every day at the private school they sent me to.

And Ransom had… a lot of money.  He had made that clear over the phone.  I’m not proud to admit that I requested the Tiffany heart tag bracelet I had seen other girls wearing at school in exchange for my silence.  I’m even less proud that, after scoffing at my proposal, Ransom walked me right past the Tiffany & Co. on Newbury Street and in to Cartier and had me pick out a bracelet there instead.  He said he hadn’t bought Tiffany for a girl since he was my age and that he wasn’t lowering himself.  I still have the bracelet buried in my jewelry box, though I never put it on.  Considering its origins, it feels dirty to wear, but I can’t bear to part with it.

 Boston, 2007

 In 2007, we found out my dad had a mistress.  He had paid for her to move over from PR and had been supporting her in Boston for two years.  That would’ve flown in PR, but in the US, my mom’s friends wouldn’t stand for it. (Especially the female divorce lawyer next door.)  That was more or less the end of my dad’s presence in my life.  There’s a chance he might walk me down the aisle one day, but that’s only if Mamá insists on a super Catholic wedding.  

My dad leaving didn’t affect me like it did my mom and Gian. I had my friends and tennis, but Gian was younger and quieter; he and my dad spent a lot of time with little robot projects and those LEGO sets and I could tell he missed him.  Mamá was lonely at home, too; she and my dad had been together since high school.  She had spent a lot of time taking care of him, despite her working 60 hour weeks.

A few of my dad’s sisters hung around as moral support, but Papá eventually pressured them until they stopped coming to see us.  However, there was an additional isolated party within our vicinity who also needed a group of humans to latch onto; someone with the capacity to fill the role of both quasi-paternal figure (figure, not role model), and platonic spouse.

I’d seen Ransom with Mrs. Drysdale; at best, she spoiled her son.  At worst, she placated him with money, demeaned and dismissed him.  Even I didn’t appreciate how she treated him and most days I didn’t like him.  After graduating last in his class from Yale, Ransom took the year off to get away from her. Not a normal “take the year off” where you travel to learn about yourself, or work, or anything like that. Instead, Ransom bought property in the Maldives and imported $500,000 worth of Dom Perignon—the Rose Gold kind—, and flew in ballerinas from Moscow while telling his mom he was joining the Peace Corps for a girl.  When there was fraud on his black AmEx and he had to phone home for help, there was hell to pay when the call came from not Mongolia.  Linda cut him off and kicked him out.

For six months, but still.  This was Ransom.

My mother, bless her heart, would have absorbed all children needing a home if she could.  And, though he was 21, Ransom definitely qualified as such a child.  I honestly think Ransom needed the mothering, too. Growing up with a nanny paid to give you care is not a replication of a mother’s love, which he never had in the first place.

Ransom always showered Mamá with attention, asking how she was with utter sincerity while maintaining direct eye contact, thanking her for the work she did as a cardiac surgeon, and other general sycophantic niceties.  I was terrified that would change for the worst after he moved in, despite their generous age gap.  A freshly divorced woman could’ve been new prey for him.  It wasn’t that she didn’t know who and what he was—she was under no illusions.  But she had a soft spot for the broken bad boy with mommy issues and indulged him.

I watched him like a hawk when he was around her, but he never made a move.  He certainly let her wait on him; she cooked him food from scratch and listened to him talk while she cleaned up the kitchen, but he was never salacious.  I still give him props for that.  It would have been an entertaining game for him, one he would’ve easily won.  

It helped that he was gone half the time.  He still had his car, keys to the Hamptons house and access to his friends’ jets and properties.   I’m pretty sure Richard was also slipping him $50k a month because Ransom rebuilt his wardrobe pretty quickly.

I will admit I was slightly… antagonistic towards him during the beginning of his time with us.  I may have picked a few fights.  He wanted to watch Sin City because of Jessica Alba; I wanted to watch the Corpse Bride.  He left questionable-looking hair trimmings in the shower drain and you can bet I was pounding on his door.  He gave me that look when I thought I had dressed nicely, and I may or may not have launched myself at him.  But, near the middle of his stay, we learned to co-exist, and even had some decent conversations.  I chilled out when I saw how he was with Gian.  

I’m not sure Mamá ever officially asked Ransom to step up while he was living with us, I think the only conditions she had was that he tip the cleaning people an extra $150 for how bad his room was, not have his douchey friends over past 10pm, and no sleepovers with the opposite sex.  But, it was obvious to everyone under our roof that Gian looked to Ransom for companionship.  And, to my utter surprise, Ransom kind of delivered.  He took Gian to the U.S. Open and up to Lake Champlain to golf a few times, and they’d hang out at the house when Ransom was home.  

Then, one day I heard him call Gian his charity project to his friends as they sat out on the porch.  The second he came inside I punched him in the arm over that.  The weirdest part about Ransom and his awful behavior is that he only kinds of means it.  I mean, the idea was there, he had had the thought that Gian was less fortunate than him and needed his help.  But I also know he genuinely loved my little brother and was making spending time with him out to be a bigger deal than it really was.

Six months to the day, Ransom had a moving company at our doorstep at 8am sharp.  He only had a few hanging wardrobes worth of clothes to move into his new apartment; all of the furniture was being delivered by the dealer, but the man couldn’t lower himself to drive his own U-Haul.  By that time, I had developed an appreciation for Ransom.  It was kind of nice to have someone older to talk to, even though he had no conception of what real life was like.  He was okay.  I didn’t miss sharing a dwelling space with him, but I did kind of miss him.

 Boston, Fall 2009

 That fall, I was 18 and a senior at the Winsor School and Ransom was 25 and bullshitting his way through his Master’s of Science in Business Analytics at Princeton.  I preferred not to ask questions regarding his attendance or grades.  I figured the less I knew, the less I could be implicated in some scandal involving the university and bribery.

High school wasn’t a great time in my life. The kids at Winsor were spoiled and came from generations of overachievers.  You could say there were a lot of Ransoms, I suppose; self-serving, arrogant, brutal, conceited, rich kids.  I’m not saying I didn’t share some of those traits, I knew I was fortunate, but I liked to think I was a decent person.  As a result, I was relatively lonely.  I had the varsity tennis team, and that fit my basic  need for socialization.  But not once did I ever entertain the thought of a boyfriend.

As the years progressed, I waited for the mutual attraction for my peers to arrive.  It never did. At that age, even if boys had adopted the air of sophistication they had seen modeled at home and had the ability to charm, they severely lacked in a different department, like intelligence or maturity.  I shut down every advance without a second thought and didn’t look back.

Until, that is, my Senior year.  As leaving home was becoming a reality, I decided I didn’t want to go to college a virgin.  I just didn’t.  Things happen in college, things you don’t always have control over, and I liked control.  I liked control very much.  And I wanted to have control over when and how I gave it up.  And I wasn’t giving it up to some 18 year old I had dated for a three months who couldn’t kiss and also didn’t have the experience to help me enjoy the process.

But I knew someone who did.

I smirked as a key sounded in the lock, Ransom had never given his back from a few years ago.

“Ol?” his voice echoed up the stairs.

“In the kitchen!”

The old stairs creaked as he ascended, heading straight for the refrigerator without even looking at me.

“Hey,” he nodded in greeting.

“Hey.”  For the first time in my life, I was nervous talking to him.  I’d texted him, asking if he could stop by, which wasn’t out of character.  He usually popped in at least once a month to return a book, pick up a sweater he forgot that my mom had washed or have dinner with us.  He lingered, even after moving out.  The flight from Princeton to Boston was only an hour, and it meant a lot to Gian, to all of us, really, that Ransom still visited.

While Ransom dug through the fridge, pulling out some leftover chorizo, I set about throwing together some protein smoothies for us.  He had left a container of ridiculously expensive something something collagen protein at our house the last time he was there and it was expiring soon, so I split the remainder between us.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw him fuss with the microwave.

I raised a brow.  “You know how to use kitchen appliances?”

He took an exaggerated bite of a sausage slice. “Selectively,” he winked.

I bit my cheek to keep from laughing.  Ransom’s “selective” helplessness didn’t need encouragement.

I think what we worked in was companionable silence, but I’m not positive.  I was pretty geared up, so it was hard to tell.  Settling at the table, I laid plates out for both of us, chewing my lip.

“I have a favor to ask.”

“I can’t get you into Yale early decision, but I can get you in,” he said as he reached for his smoothie.

I rolled my eyes.  “I’ve already gotten into Brown on my own, which was my first choice, thank you. What I need is… different.”

“What is it?  I’ve got cash with me.”

“Ransom!  Listen to me. Just let me ask my question.”

“Okay!” he chuckled, his eyes gleaming as he swirled his glass.

“Okay,” I repeated, my heart pounding in my chest. I made myself look him in the eye. All of a sudden I wanted to cry? What if he said no?  What if he laughed?  What if he never talked to me again?

“Ol, you’re getting pale.  You look like you’re about to ask me to skin a cat.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled, seconds away from losing my nerve. I inhaled deeply, folding my hands on the table in front of me and sitting up straight.

“Ransom,” I began.

“Olivia,” he countered, his face comically serious.

“I want you to take my virginity.  Now that I’m 18—.”

“Hah—You what?  No you don’t, Olivia, you don’t—.”

“I do.”

“Ehhhh,” he made a pained face and shook his head.  “I mean, what do you mean by virginy? What have you done before?”

“Nothing.”

“But you’ve given head though, right?”

I tried to mask my embarrassment with a look of disdain.

When Ransom gaped in surprise, I kicked him under the table.

“A handjob?”

“I said nothing,” I bit out.

The corner of his mouth pulled upward and he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing.  “What about like… getting off with each other?”

I shook my head.  

“Sexting?”

“There’s no one I want to sext.”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“But like…”

“I’ve never touched or been touched, Ransom.  I’ve never seen a man naked, okay?”

He sighed.  “I don’t do virgins.  It’s a personal policy.  Especially someone like you who has absolutely no experience.”

That stung, but I kept trying.  “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No—.”

“Are you dating anyone?”

“Ol, I don’t date—.”

“Ransom, this is exactly the type of arrangement you want!” I hissed.

“This should be something you do with a boyfriend, someone your age who you care about and who cares about you.”

I groaned and stormed into the living room, plopping into an easy chair.  

“I don’t want a boyfriend.  I’m going to Brown in the fall, so dating someone now would be pointless. And in Providence, between Chi Omega, studying, volunteering, and AMSA, I just won’t have time for a relationship.”

Ransom couldn’t suppress a laugh as he tailed after me.  “You’re as heartless as I am.”

“I’m not heartless,” I argued.  “I’m practical.”

He gave me a patronizing smile.  “You’ve never done this before, you don’t know how you’ll feel afterwards.  It’s sex. Girls get attached.  I just can’t do that, babe.”

"You can!  Ransom, you can.  I won’t get attached.  I’ll leave you alone after.  I won’t text you for a month.  Please? I—,” my cheeks flamed as I looked down at my hands.  Bickering and bantering with Ransom was easy.  Acting like I disliked him was easy.  But being vulnerable with him?  That was terrifying.  “I want it to be you,” I whispered.  “I don’t trust anyone else.”

With a sigh, he perched on the arm of my chair.

“I’m going back to Princeton on Sunday.  Even if we did it tonight, we wouldn’t have 48 hours together.”

“I don’t care!” I slapped the seat of the chair. “What if—what if I get roofied and lose it to some guy and don’t even remember it?  Or—or someone, you know… one in every four women faces sexual assault in college…”

That perpetual, devious gleam in Ransom’s eyes disappeared.  Something brutal and vicious replaced it.

  “I’d kill him.  I’d kill anyone who touched you like that.”

My chest tightened.  I’d never seen him that serious before, not even when he argued with his mom.  It was a little terrifying.  But, I had carried pepper spray on me for years since moving to the city and I already knew my parents were sending me to college with a SipChip, not that I’d be going to parties anyway.  I tried another angle.

  “I know I’m not the girls you normally sleep with—blonde, white, with yachts and horses and trust funds—

Darkness cast over his face.

“Olivia,” he interrupted.  Brow creasing, Ransom lifted his hand near my face, then hesitated. With a growl, he cupped my jaw. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, brushing the knuckle of the opposite hand against my cheek.  “And trust funds are so mundane.”

I rose from the chair and leaned against his leg. “Then why don’t you want me?”  It took everything in me to keep my voice from breaking.

Ransom shifted uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ol, I’ve known you since you were a kid.  I can’t—I just don’t see you that way.”

“You still see me as a child?”

“I guess, yeah.”

Butterflies flapped madly in my belly, but I held my breath and stepped forward between his legs until our chests were pressed together, trapping my hand between us at his groin.  Praying that I applied what I had read correctly, I timidly felt for his cock. He grunted when I wrapped my hand around the outline of its shape and followed it with a shy stroke.

“I am not a child,” I husked in my best seductress voice.

“You said you’d never touched or been touched,” he accused through clenched teeth.

Both proud and embarrassed, I ducked my head. “I don’t like entering a situation unprepared.  I read a lot and watched some videos.”  Realizing the implications of my statement, I turned beet red.  “For research, I mean!”

That earned me a genuine smile.  Sliding one hand around my waist he pulled me closer, then used the other to firmly guide my palm over his half erect cock, rubbing it back and forth.  I blushed as I felt him harden under my fingers.

“What else did you research?”

"Stuff,” I mumbled.

Rubbing his thumb along my hipbone, his gaze fell to his lap, watching my hand work over his erection.  Then his eyes deviated to my front, trailing up my belly to my chest, which was, admittedly, heaving, and slowly made their way to my face. Looking someone in the eye had never made me clench down there before.  It was unexpected, but not unappreciated.

I could see Ransom thinking, his eyes flicking back and forth between mine as he reasoned with himself.

“You need to think this over, you need to really consider what you’re asking me and decide that’s what you want,” he murmured, his voice rough.

My pussy throbbed at the sound, and it took extra concentration not to let my eyes close.

“When have I ever made a rash decision about something this important?  I started thinking about this a year ago.”

He exhaled a laugh, shaking his head.  “Of course you did.”

When his hips gave an involuntary thrust against my palm, he gently pulled my wrist away.

“That’s enough for now.”

Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes.  “Did I do it wrong?  Is that a no?”

He massaged his closed eyelids with his index finger and thumb, exhaling shakily.  “It should be a no.  A good man would say no.”  

Drawing me against him once more, I whimpered as he ground his cock against my belly.  “But I’ve never been a good man, have I, Olivia?”

He didn’t give me an opportunity to respond. The kiss was firm, but delicate. No tongues or biting or slipping or sliding, just lips pressed together, gently massaging.  When he sucked at my lower lip I surprised both of us with a soft moan, causing him to bury his hand in my hair and tilt my head for better access.

I completely lost track of everything, because the next moment of consciousness I had was gasping for air as he pulled away. My fingers were tangled in his hair, my hand clutching his sweater like it was a lifeline, and his thigh was situated between both of mine, applying pressure to my clit that was making me see stars.  Now my mouth was wet, but I didn’t care.

Once I could see straight, I dove for his mouth again, but he stopped me with an unyielding grip on my chin.

“Change,” he rumbled.  “We’ll go to dinner at Menton, I’ll pull some strings and get us a table.  Then back to my apartment.”

I squinted, still reeling from the kiss. “We’re not going to Menton first, that makes it sound like a date.  This isn’t a date, we have one mission to accompli—.”

He gaze grew cold.  “If we do this, we’re doing it my way.  You’re going to listen to me.  I’m in charge.”

My eyes flicked back and forth between his as my entire face and neck glowed pink.  

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Say ‘Yes, sir,’” he corrected me.

“Yes, sir,” I repeated softly.

The pleased smile that spread across his lips gave me a warm feeling in my belly.

“Tonight, I’m going to destroy your pussy,” he whispered against my ear, sucking at my lobe, “I’m going to make you come like a whore.”  Moving to my other side, he spoke softly again, his warm breath against my cheek making me shiver.  “Your future husband will resent me for the rest of your lives, because I’m going to ruin you for any other man.”  Nuzzling my nose with the tip of his, he kissed the corner of my mouth.  “And you’re going to love it.”

I couldn’t help myself.  I was throbbing, there was pressure building in my belly and the man had barely laid a hand on me.  With a high pitched whimper, I sought his mouth again, but he wrapped his huge hand around my throat and shook his head as he held me back.

“Go.  Pick out something nice to wear.  Something you feel pretty in.”

Mouth dry, I nodded.  He caught my arm as I went to leave.

“And Olivia?  Not a scrap of clothing underneath.”

#ransom thrombey x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x ofc #ransom drysdale smut #ransom thrombey smut #ransom smut #ransom x ofc #ransom drysdale #knives out #smut #fanfic #fanfiction #knives out spoilers #oh my god it's happening #mcudarklibrarykinkmonth

[flutistbyday2020]

John Deere Green Chapter Eight: (500 Miles)

⚠️⚠️This story and its contents contain material not suited for sensitive viewers. This story is not meant for anyone under the age of 18. If you are reading this, you are agreeing you are over 18. This warning serves as a blanket trigger and content warning. Cussing, rape, abuse, miscarriage, adultery, death, and other dark subjects will be mentioned. This is your FINAL WARNING.⚠️⚠️

Word Count: 2454

Story master list is HERE.

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Lots of love,

RED.

The next day, Liam woke at 0600 sharp, half an hour before his alarm was set to ring. He bounced out of bed and dressed quickly. He chose slacks and a black button-up, knowing that he would be photographed.

Leo had given Liam the number of the photographer and videographer that he had used for his proposal. Leo joked and said that Liam was stealing all of his ideas, but Liam told him about the water tower. Leo joked about how Liam shouldn’t show up his older brother.

Liam had purchased well over 100 roses, as well. He, his family, and friends had painstakingly taken every petal off the roses to lay on the path— he didn’t want fake petals for Riley.

He wanted to have candles on the sides of a path to a pond where he and Riley could see the water tower clearly. He would have big lanterns with the words, “Will you marry me” written on the side, highlighted from behind with lights at the head of the path. There was a pond at the end of this path; two willows gracefully framed it. There would be lanterns hanging from the branches and Liam would get on one knee there.

Drake called Liam a show-off, but Liam shrugged and said, “only for the best.”

Twenty minutes. Hana was coming with Riley in twenty minutes. He was going to be engaged by the end of the night. Holy shit!!!

Liam had invited everyone from his and his father’s social circle for the engagement party. There were going to be close to three hundred people at this party— the entire county was anxious to see Leo and Liam celebrate their upcoming nuptials. Their weddings would be the talk of the country, as well. The Rhys’ were a prominent family not only in the south but the entire US.

The upper class of the farmers would all be in attendance— The Beaumonts from Ramsford, the Nervarkis from Lythikos, the Vancouver’s from Domvallier, the Amaranths from Krona, the Ebrims from Portavira, and the Therons from Castelsareillan. Their prominent citizens from the towns would also be in attendance.

Liam paced on the front lawn. People were already arriving, the band was already playing, and Riley would be here soon!

It was a gorgeous summer evening. It wasn’t too hot, thankfully. There was a light breeze that floated across the Rhys grounds, carrying the smell of the food and sounds of easy conversation.

Liam was going to wait until sunset before whisking Riley away to the pond. That way, the candles could illuminate the path. He hoped to plan it just right so that the lanterns would shine brightly, too.

Hana was impatiently tapping her foot in the foyer, waiting for Riley. Riley had changed her dress six times and puked twice.

“We’re going to be late if you don’t come out here this instant!” Hana cried.

She heard Riley stumbling around in her room, the sound of Riley slamming her bedroom door, then the sound of heels clicking on the tile.

“Jesus! I’m coming!” Riley yelled back.

Riley sported a floor-length, black dress that was very Breakfast at Tiffany’s. It was a mermaid-style gown, no sleeves, high neckline, and a slit up the side. She wore a pearl necklace and dangly silver earrings. Her hair was in an elegant updo.

Hana gasped. “Riley! You look beautiful.”

Riley blushed. “Thanks. I know Liam is going to propose tonight, and I want to look the part.”

Hana laughed lightly. “You sure do look the part. Come on. Let’s go!”

Hana wore a tea-length red dress, strappy sandals, and her hair was half up, ringlets curling around her face.

She almost bounced in her seat the entire ride to Liam’s house.

They pulled up the drive and were greeted by a valet stand at the mouth of the driveway.

Liam was at the stairs, waiting for Riley. He was a gentleman and opened Hana’s door first. Riley knew to stay until Liam came to her.

Liam swept open Hana’s door and offered her a hand. She took it and gracefully exited. Liam took her hand to his lips after bowing slightly. “It’s so good to see you, Hana.” His smile was genuine.

Hana winked. “It’s good to see you, too, Liam.” She proceeded to give a valet the keys and headed inside as Liam made his way over to the passenger side.

This is it! He straightened his posture and opened Riley’s door. She offered him her hand and exited the car. Unlike Hana, it was not graceful. Her foot caught on the hem of her dress, and she stumbled ever so slightly. Liam wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Oops,” Riley giggled as she looked up at Liam.

“If you wanted a hug, all you had to do was ask,” Liam teased.

Riley squeezed her arm around Liam. “Good to know. How about a kiss?”

Liam leaned down and kissed Riley chastely, much to her disappointment. When they pulled apart, Liam held Riley at arm’s length to look at her.

“I love the dress, Riley. It’s a flattering shape,” he commented as they began walking toward the backyard.

“Thank you,” Riley murmured. Her heart was pounding in her chest. When is he going to propose? I won’t be able to eat until he does! “Audrey Hepburn is my favorite actress and Breakfast at Tiffany’s is an amazing movie.”

“I agree,” Liam said as they approached a server with a tray full of champagne flutes.

Riley took in the sight before her. Liam had gone all out, and she knew it was for her. There were several white tents, all with three round tables underneath. The tables sported white, lace tablecloths. Each chair had a pink slip. There were vases in the middle filled with pink roses.

As Liam plucked two flutes from the tray, Riley approached an empty tent. There were nameplates, but she couldn’t make out names. Before she could proceed any further, Liam laced his arm with hers and pulled her away.

No need to spoil the last surprise of the evening, Liam thought. Amanda’s flight should be touching down any moment and she should be here just after sunset. Just in time to celebrate her daughter’s engagement!

Liam tugged Riley in the direction of people. “Do we have to?” She whined.

Liam laughed. “Yes, darling. If you’re going to be. Rhys, you must be good at politics.”

“How is talking to people politics?” Riley was still whiny.

Liam turned to Riley and kissed her on the cheek. “You must talk to people and figure out what they want from the way they look at you. For instance,” Liam subtly pointed at a woman next to a man, “That woman, Kiara, is trying to get a trade deal from Bertrand. Do you see how she leaned forward? She’s not interested, but she knows that if she butters him up just right, he’ll crack.”

Riley nodded, even though she wasn’t quite sure.

Liam chuckled. “It’s okay, love. You have an entire lifetime to figure it out. Ah, here we are,” he said as they approached a redhead. He leaned over and whispered, “Just remember, her bark is worse than her bite.”

The redhead looked up. “Liam! How good it is to see you!” Her eyes shifted to Riley. “And you must be the woman who stole his heart?”

Her tone was sniveling and it made Riley bristle. Riley smiled politely and stuck out her hand for Olivia to shake.

Olivia grasped it, hard, and pulled Riley in for a hug.

“If you break his heart, I’ll break your neck,” Olivia hissed.

Riley wrapped her arms around Olivia and squeezed a little too hard. “From what I heard, you’ve already broken his heart. Maybe I should break your neck?”

Riley pulled back and was rewarded with a stunned look on Olivia's face. Riley leaned in and whispered one last thing: “I’m from Brooklyn, Livvy. You’ll have to be scarier than that.”

She smiled brightly as Liam looked between the two of them. Riley shrugged and whisked off to find Hana.

“What was all that about, Olivia?” Liam demanded.

Olivia shook her head. “She’s not afraid of me, so I’ll give her that.” She smiled sadly at Liam. “She’s a great woman, Liam. I can already tell.”

Olivia turned and walked away.

Liam didn’t have time to ponder what was said because the sun was starting to dip in the sky.

His eyes wandered until they found Riley next to Hana, Maxwell, Bertrand, and Kiara.

Riley stormed up to Hana and finished her drink in one swig.

“Uh, what’s up, Ri?” Hana asked as her eyebrows shot up.

“Olivia’s a bitch.”

The lady that was talking to Bertrand laughed. “You could say that.” She gasped. “Oh, no! Where are my manners?” She smiled at Riley. “I’m Kiara Theron. I’m from Castelliarian.”

Kiara approached Riley to shake her hand.

“This is Bertrand and Maxwell Beaumont from Ramsford,” Kiara pointed at the brothers. Bertrand, too, stood forward to shake Riley’s hand but Maxwell hugged Riley.

Maxwell smiled. “I know Riley! We met at her job!”

Riley returned the hug. She liked Maxwell.

“So, Riley, what brings you to the south?” Bertrand asked.

“Just needed a new start, I guess,” Riley laughed. “Happened to find Liam in the process.”

The group chuckled.

“I think Liam found you, Riley,” Bertrand offered. “I’ve known him since the day he was born and I’ve never seen him like this.”

Riley looked Bertrand in the eye. She could tell he was being honest.

Just then, Liam approached. He greeted everyone before turning to Riley.

“I was wondering if I could steal a moment of your time?” Liam asked as he offered Riley his arm.

Riley smiled brightly as she set down her empty champagne flute. “You can’t steal what is freely given, Liam.”

“If you’ll excuse us,” Liam said to the group.

The couple walked in silence for a few minutes before Riley spoke.

“Where are we going?”

Liam smiled to himself. “You’ll see.”

“Brat.”

The only sound was of their feet on the ground.

They approached a path and Liam stopped, turned to Riley, and took her hand. “I have a surprise for you.”

Riley raised her eyebrows.

Liam held up a blindfold. “Put this on.”

Riley’s heart began pounding again. “You aren’t going to kill me, are you?” She squealed.

“What? No! Why would I—”

Liam could see the terror in her eyes. “Okay! it’s okay, Riley!” He wrapped her in his arms and waited for her to calm. “No blindfold. But you have to promise to keep your eyes shut.”

“Okay.”

Riley dutifully placed her hands over her eyes and Liam guided her down the path.

The candles were lit, the petals were scattered, and the lanterns were in place.

The sun had dipped just low enough to make the candles shine, but it was still high enough to see the water tower.

Liam guided Riley to the clearing. “Stay here and don’t open your eyes!”

“Okay.”

Liam pulled out his phone and confirmed the photographer and videographer were in place. He then lit the candles in the lanterns.

He was nervous. His heart was pounding. His hands were sweating— Ew! What? He thought as he wiped his hands on his pants. Come on, Liam. Get your act together.

He turned Riley so she faced the water tower.

“Riley, I’m going to be cheesy for a minute.”

Riley giggled. “Okay, then.”

Liam placed his hands on top of hers. “There’s an old song, “John Deere Green”, by Joe Diffie. It talks about two kids who fell in love at first sight.”

Riley was silent.

“Open your eyes,” Liam whispered as he took his hands from hers.

Riley’s mouth dropped open as she saw the water tower. “Liam, it’s—” she couldn’t find the words.

“Still not enough?” Liam offered.

Riley shook her head. “I love it. Thank you.” She stood on her toes to kiss Liam.

This time, it was not a chaste kiss. He held one arm behind her back and one hand was on her head. He kissed her deeply and passionately.

Riley pulled back, breathless. She smiled at him.

“While that song reminds me of us, and helped inspire tonight, that isn’t our song,” Liam said with a smile.

“Oh, and what is our song?”

“500 Miles”,” Liam stated. “I would walk 500 miles And I would walk 500 more just to be the man who falls down at your door,” Liam sang quietly.

A tear streaked down Riley’s cheek.

“There’s more, Riley,” Liam whispered as he took Riley’s hand. “I loved you from the moment I saw you at the store.”

Riley blushed. “I’m still sorry about the soda.”

“Don’t be, love,” Liam murmured. “I knew that you were supposed to be in my life that day. As the fates would have it, you were my waitress on the night that Leo and I decided to do what was best for our family.

“Riley, Leo and I had decided that we would marry whoever was the best for our family. We would marry the person who could help our farm. Madeleine was born for this life— she could be a queen in another life. And you, Riley? You surprised me when you helped me with that horse.

“You have surprised me at every turn, Riley. First, you agree to go out on a date, and then, you help a man you barely know foal a horse. You agree to a second date. And then, when I told you how soon I had to be married, you took it in stride.”

Liam counted the reasons on his fingers.

“I can only hope to be half the man you deserve, Riley.”

He placed Riley’s hands back over her eyes and moved them so that the photographer could see the lanterns behind them before he got down on one knee. “Keep your hands over your eyes,” Liam whispered.

Riley nodded.

Liam got down on one knee, ring in hand, and began singing again:

“When I wake up, well I know I'm gonna be.

I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next to you.

When I go out, yeah I know I'm gonna be

I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you.”

More tears fell from Riley’s eyes.

“Open your eyes, Riley.”

Riley’s eyes Snapped open and she saw Liam before her. Happy tears streamed freely.

“Riley, I promise you that I will love you with everything I have for the rest of my life. If you let me.”

Riley held her breath.

“Riley Alexandra Brooks, will you marry me?”

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#trr riley brooks #the royal romance #trr liam rys #trr mc x liam #riley brooks #pixelberry #trr #trr drake walker #trr liam #choices #trr riam #trr riley brooks x liam rys #trr riley x liam #trr liam x riley #trr liam x mc #liam rhys x riley #liam rhys x riley brooks #flutistbyday writes #trr john deere green #flutistbyday john deere green

[captainamerica-inmiddleearth]

Ok so me and my friend came up with a little theory for how Steve Trevor could be in the next Wonder Woman movie. I’ve never written anything like this before and this is probably so bad its hilarious, but OMG I had so much fun coming up with it so I thought you all could enjoy it too. 

MEANWHILE AT WAYNE MANOR

           “Happy birthday Diana!” The entire Justice League had gathered for Diana’s gazillionth birthday, or at least that’s what Bruce had written on the invitations.

*FLASHBACK* “I’m not a gazillion Bruce that would be impossible.”

           “Not like you’ve ever told me how old you really are, which means that I get to decide. Deal with it.” *sunglasses*

Diana was marveling over the birthday cake that was decorated to look like Mount Olympus complete with a little Zeus figure at the top. “Wow Victor it’s beautiful. I love it, thank you.”

           “You’re welcome. I thought it was appropriate.” Victor smiled to himself. Their little bet on who could get her the best present seemed like it was already going in his favor. A cake wasn’t typically considered a present but he thought it was unique. He hadn’t seen anybody else’s presents yet, and he was a little worried about Bruce’s gift since the guy’s financial limit was non-existent. He couldn’t get a read off the stone cold expression that was perpetually frozen on Bruce’s face. He could tell that Barry was nervous though. Kid probably totally forgot today was even Diana’s birthday. Victor was willing to bet that the only reason Barry was even here was because he was stealing out of Bruce’s fridge again. The fact that he got hungry at the exact time that party was happening was pure dumb luck. No, Victor wasn’t worried about Barry at all.

           “Alright, who’s next?” Victor asked.

           Bruce stepped forward, “I am.”

           ‘Great’, Victor thought.

           Bruce stepped over to an area of the room that had been curtained off and pulled a golden rope which dropped the curtains and revealed the FUCKING TIFFANY CHANDELIER! Everybody just went quiet for a moment.

           “Is that was I think it is?” Clark asked.

           “The fucking Tiffany Chandelier” Victor said. “I can’t even… like… how did you even get that? I refuse to believe that they would even sell that to you!!”

           Bruce shrugged, “Well it was easy after I bought the building.”

           “You bought the…?! I need to sit down” Victor went over to the couch and put his head in his hands.

           “So Diana, what do you think?” Bruce looked over at Diana. She had just been starring at it the whole time.

           “It’s… Wow Bruce, I’m not sure what to say.”

           “It’s ok if you’re left speechless by your favorite birthday present.”

           “Hey now” Clark said, “Not all of us have given our presents yet.” Clark looked around to see if anyone wanted to give their presents next. Arthur looked vaguely pissed off over on the couch, and Barry was shifting back and forth on his feet looking increasingly nervous. “Alright I guess it’s my turn.” He handed Diana a simple necklace box. “It’s not quite as extravagant, but it is handmade.”

           Diana opened the box to reveal a gorgeous diamond necklace. “Clark! It’s beautiful! But you said it was handmade, I don’t understand?”

           Bruce and Victor had jumped up by this point. “How the SHIT is that handmade?” Victor practically yelled.

           “Yeah Clark, spill” Bruce demanded.

           “Well, diamonds are just carbon that has been compressed and super-heated, so I just squeeze some carbon in my hand and heated it with my heat vision until it became a diamond. Simple.”

           Victor and Bruce stared at him blinking in disbelief.

           “Clark, this is one of the nicest things anyone has ever given me. Thank you.” Diana hugged him.

           “Well Bruce, there’s no way either of us is winning now.” Victor patted Bruce on the back.

           “I bought an entire building.”

           “You’ll get over it.”

           “Arthur you’re next!” Bruce said loudly, trying to change the subject.

           Arthur stood up roughly and grabbed a gift bag that he had half hid behind the couch the second Bruce had dropped that curtain. He walked up and practically threw it into Diana’s hands. “Happy birthday” he said almost as an afterthought.

           Diana opened the bag and pulled out a purple plushy narwhal. Everyone started giggling.

           “Wow Arthur how inspired” Bruce commented.

           “Fuck you guys. You said there was a $20 limit to make it fair.”

           “No that was a joke and you took it seriously.” Bruce replied.

           “It’s adorable Arthur I love it, thank you” Diana hugged Arthur and then hugged the plushy, “I’ll call him Steve.”

           “Alright who’s left?” Clark asked.

           “Allen!” Bruce bellowed, “You haven’t said one word this entire goddamn time, you better have something good.”

           “Ummmm…” Barry tried to stall.

           “You forgot didn’t you?” Victor asked.

           “No! I didn’t! I swear, Diana I have your present I just have to… umm… go get it! It’s not here yet! I’ll go get it!” With that, Barry supersped out of the house.

           “He’s probably embarrassed he forgot. We won’t see him for the rest of the night.” Bruce said.

           “Poor thing. I hope he knows I don’t care about all this present stuff really.” Diana said, looking sadly out the door Barry had just run out of.

           “Yeah but like, who’s present was your favorite?” Victor asked. They all looked at her expectantly. Diana just smiled an rolled her eyes at them.

           Barry raced through Gotham on the verge of panic. He had totally forgotten to get a present. He had actually forgotten the party was even today. He just wanted that leftover salmon he knew Bruce had in his fridge. “Think Allen think!” What was it that Diana had said she was going to name that stupid narwhal plushy? “That’s it! Bruce said only to time travel in the most dire of situations and this definitely qualifies!”

           Steve Trevor’s hand was shaking as he pointed the gun into the back of the plane. He didn’t want to die. He was scared. He thought about Diana and all the people that would live because of his sacrifice. As he took a deep breath, a calmness washed over him. He squeezed the trigger but then everything stopped.

           Barry looked around at the inside of the plane, at the bullet that was moving impossibly slow out of the barrel of the gun. He grabbed the pilot and raced back through the opening in space time that he had just created.

           Barry and Steve came through the opening just outside of Wayne Manor.

           “Who are you? What did you just do!? I had to stop that plane! The gas, it was…!”

           “Relax dude you destroyed the plane, everything worked out. I made sure I didn’t change anything.”

           “What do you mean you didn’t change anything? What?! Who are… HEY! Who are you and where am I?”

           “Chilllllllll man, come inside with me. This is gonna be awesome!”

           “Oh my gods Victor,” Diana said through a mouthful of cake, “This tastes even better than it looks!”

           “But you still don’t like it better than that Narwhal plushy?”

           Diana looked at the purple plushy she was still hugging and held it up, “It’s just so cute.”

           At that moment, Barry threw the doors open and came into the room announcing, “Prepare to come in last place losers! Diana, I have your present!” He pulled Steve into the room and everyone jumped up.

           “Barry, are you fucking with the timeline again?” Bruce demanded.

           “Relax grandpa, I didn’t change anything.”

           “Diana?” Steve asked, seeing her sitting in her chair with her jaw on the floor, “What’s going on?”

           “Steve? How… you? I don’t understand, what?”

           “This guy just grabbed me out of the plane after I fired the gun and all of the sudden we were here.” Steve answered. “I still don’t know what’s going on or who these people are.”

           “Barry?” Diana turned to him, “You did this for me?”

           “Yeah, happy birthday Diana.” Barry’s eyes almost exploded out of his head as Diana crushed him in a hug.

           “You’ve given me everything Barry, thank you.”

           Barry hugged her back and pointed at himself and mouthed ‘Winner’ to the others as Diana went over and enveloped the still confused Steve in a hug.

           “Ok so if Barry won, then who lost?” Victor asked.

           “Bruce lost” Diana said from across the room. “It’s beautiful Bruce but I think you should put it back.”

           “I’m gonna hang it in the Batcave” Bruce decided.

           “What’s the batcave?” Steve asked. Diana just kissed him.

THE END BITCHES

#wonder woman #the justice league #steve trevor

[neanicnamii]

Note: This is a work of fiction. The author unfortunately did not search facts thoroughly.

---------------------------------------------

As my head is resting on the bars that separates me fron the sitting police, I tried to ignore the pointless  bickering in front of me. I sighed knowing that this won't stop anytime soon.

Hi. My name is Katniss Everdeen, I was in the Hunger Games, I escaped. Peeta... Peeta was left behind. Just kidding. I am definitely not Katniss. That girl is just a character from the book I stole from my friend Jess. It was a great story. Anyways, she wasn't mad at me for stealing her three precious books. She understands that it is inevitable. I'm a kleptomaniac, I itch to steal things. But, excuse me, I returned it after reading all of them.

If you think that the reason I'm behind bars is because of this illness of mine, damn right it is. I was caught shoplifting in another town's convenience store.

"Can't you understand sir? I already told you. She has illness. Here's her medical certificate. She can't help it. Can't you excuse her this time? Just this time we promise. Please, we really need to go." My blonde friend Jess once again pleaded with the policeman in front of her. And as what he has been doing all along, he denied the certification. "Miss, it isn't an excuse. Besides, she's a minor, she'll only be here until tonight. She'll be safe here. Go wherever you have to go."

I nodded as the police told Jess that, I smiled widely at her and shooed her away. "Bye Jess, see yah!" She sputtered, "B-but they might replace you! It's the last rehearsal Ree!" I just rolled my eyes on her. Do I look like I care? I don't wanna be their showgirl for a silly parade tradition. I won't be wearing a dress and make-up to just smile and wave to everyone. That's just yuck in my dictionary.

"Just head back here after, Jess." She only huffed and stuffed back the papers to her bag. "Fine! Gosh Ree!" Jess gave me one last look- her infamous killer glare- and turned around to leave the station. "Don't tell Mom!"

"Or Dad! Love you Jess!" I hope she heard me.

The police smiled at me in an amused way then went back to reading his newspaper. I sighed, good thing this station is small and it's just me inside the cell. This is going to be a loooong wait. ---

I closed the door of the car and sat down on the driver's seat, giddy that I got out of that boring place, just as Jess did the same but in an annoyed manner. She's talking to me but I didn't listen to her, surely she's just nagging me about being careful and responsible or maybe about what happened at the rehearsals and set up. I started to drive away from the police station. "...and then we set up the lights on the float..." I hummed in agreement to her just to make it look like I'm listening. But who am I fooling? She knows when I'm bluffing. "Are you even listening?" She asked, scowl seemingly permanent on her face. I turned to her, "Of course I am." and gave her a shit-eating grin. It did not deter her scowl (Yup! It's permanent). "Bullsh!t."

I couldn't help but snort at that. But, this conversation is like any other; she'll continue to rattle at me anyway. "Anyways Ree, you're lucky! They didn't replace you as Amy. I was so nervous earlier when they're scolding me for being late and without you in tow!" I chuckled 'cause I could see what might have happened earlier in my head. "They could have just saved themselves trouble by just giving the role to Tiffany. She wants it anyways."

"She's a bitch, she does not deserve to be Amy. And she's blonde!"

We are nearing the park of this town, and I'm steering the wheel to park the car near the town park.

"Last year's Amy is blonde. She wore a wig."

Jessica's forehead creased in confusion.  At first, I thought she was thinking about last year's parade. But apparently, she wasn't. She looked at her surroundings and turned to me so fast I thought she'll  get a whiplash.

"Why are we here? And to point out earlier's argument, you look like Amy, she could be mistaken as your ancestor or something." She said as she removes the lock of the seatbelt. I undid the belt on me too and turned off the engine. "To live a little, and to counter that, I most definitely do not." I opened the car door and went out to feel the night breeze.

"You most definitely do." ---

We sat down on the grass, phone and speakers on my hand. Luckily, there are no people around, well, it's past curfew. I tapped play, and the song serenaded us, creating a peaceful and comforting silence between us.

Anybody's got the power They don't see it cause they don't understand Spin around and round for hours You and me, we got the world in our hands

I wish everyday is like this. I casted a glance to my side, seeing Jess' eyes closed. She seemed dovish, smiling minutely to herself. The moon illuminates her hair, tied to a ponytail, swishing from side to side a little. She looks beautiful basking in the night glow. She's so beautifully normal, that I feel like I could never be. I'm jealous of what she has, but somehow I'm thankful she's with me.

Everyday people do everyday things but I Can't be one of them I know you hear me now, we are a different kind

BANG! And blood curling scream.

We both got startled, and stood up fast. I unplugged the speakers from my phone. "What was that?" Jess asked. "Gun shot?" I muttered meekly.

The breeze, once comforting now ran ice cold on my skin. The hairs on my whole body is standing up, my heart thumping fast. I held on Jess' hand, she squeezed mine. We looked around to see where it came from. "We should go Ree. I-I don't think it's safe here anymore." I only nodded and we started to walk away but suddenly there was another scream, weaker than the previous. There's a woman clutching her side running towards us, she fell on the ground. "Oh my gosh, is she dead?!"

My mind is saying no, but my body moved on its own, running to her, to help her. My phone and speakers fell from my hand as I ran towards the woman. I heard Jess' footsteps behind me. The woman on the ground looks like she's writhing in pain, she's alive. I knelt down on the grass to help the woman sit. She's bleeding, oh my God. "Jess, call an ambulance, a police!" From the corner of my eye, I saw her scramble for her phone inside the pockets of her jeans.

The woman can barely stand, crying, muttering " Help me please." I'm shushing her, telling her everything's gonna be fine. Which I'm not sure it will be. "Damn it, my phone died!" Jess growled in frustration. "The powerbank's inside the car, get it, we'll follow. Call for help immediately."

Jess dashed to where the car was parked as I and the injured woman struggle to find a balance. I put my right arm on her and her left arm on my shoulder. "Are you okay? I-I mean, you can hold up until we get you to the hospital right?" She only cried in response. It seems that that is the only thing she can do now. Her crying does nothing to soothe my panic. My chest tightens, possibly palpitating right now. Sweat is breaking out of me, which makes handling the woman become slippery. The person who shot her might still be somewhere around and might get back again. Awful scenarios sneak inside my head. I am going to die. Oh my God, help me.

As we are still limping towards the car, I saw a tiny glint of silver. The woman was wearing a silver heart-locket necklace. It looked so appealing, my hand itched a little. We are walking but my eyes seemed to find it hard to not look at it.

"Stop!" a man's voice snarled from behind. Just then I noticed my free hand going towards the woman's neck. Damn it, this is not the time for you to get all klepty Ree!

I was spacing out with the shock of my uncontrolled sickness, I almost didn't notice the woman untangling herself from me. I looked at her and she smiled ruefully at me. She mouthed 'thank you', then bang!

She fell on the ground with a thud. I screamed, tears burst out of my eyes. The woman's eyes are still open, blood seeping out of her white blouse.

I turned around only to find the killer running away.

#story #story dump #chapter 1 #first #kleptomaniac #fantasy #sci-fantasy #murder #mystery

[officetime02-blog]

7 Middle School Status Symbols That Still Haunt My Dreams At 27

Peter and I have started keeping a running tally of the Canada Goose jackets we see in New York City. (When I say “running tally” I mostly mean we squawk at each other whenever we see one. Because it’s a goose!) They are easy to spot, once you know what they look like, because they are everywhere. One morning while out in the West Village, a neighborhood full of quaint facades hiding extremely expensive interiors, we counted more than 20. And it’s truly shocking to me how ubiquitous they’ve become among a certain faction of New Yorkers — I’m sure they are incredibly warm, but they are all but devoid of any kind of personality. Out in the wild, I only ever see them in black, despite being manufactured in a few different (though subdued) colors. Plus, most of the bomber jackets and parkas start around $800.

Of course, I can’t speak to the quality of this specific brand, and I do think a high-quality winter coat is a super important investment if you live somewhere cold (and can afford the splurge). But I just see so many of these coats specifically. The point of wearing a Canada Goose jacket is probably to stay warm, but it’s also undeniably to be seen with that red patch on your shoulder — to let the people know just how much you probably spent on that one coat.

I recently realized how much these coats’ popularity reminds me of the status symbols in my middle and high school. I grew up in the Northeast Atlanta suburbs in a pretty upper-middle class neighborhood. (My high school was pretty diverse, my middle school less so, and the neighborhood where I lived was mostly white.) My parents certainly did well for themselves, but they didn’t spend their money in the same ways others seemed to — we were one of the comfortable minivan families, not one of the Lincoln SUV ones. My mom has always loved shopping and clothes and certainly passed that on to me, but she never let me buy something simply because everyone else had it. I’m grateful for this now, but there were so many specific things that it seemed all the other (and usually “popular”) kids had that I was jealous of.

I’m often reminded of the often bizarre items that ended up being status symbols in my own adolescence, so thought it might be fun to take a little stroll down memory lane. (For reference, I was in middle school 2003-2006, and I graduated high school in 2010.) Here are seven specific middle school status symbols that still personally haunt me, despite the fact that I never owned most of them:

1. Tiffany heart lock necklaces.

I’m talking very specifically about the chunky chainlink ones that clasped in the front (like this one). I’m not sure which came first — the opening shot of Elle Woods fastening her Tiffany heart necklace in Legally Blonde, or the same necklace being worn on the necks of WASPy 13-year-old girls everywhere. The closest I ever got was a knockoff version from Claire’s, which is definitely for the best considering the probably dozens of jewelry items I have misplaced in the last decade and a half. Now looking back, it feels like the entire point of them was to be instantly recognizable while still boring enough to fit with pretty much any outfit. Also, they were probably an excuse to buy something with the Tiffany logo without having to shell out for a diamond. (Chanel logo earrings definitely fall into the same category.)

2. Northface fleece jackets.

Yes, in my Atlanta suburb, where we got about two and a half weeks of “winter” each year, bland-ass Northface jackets were a dime a dozen on kids from wealthier white families — most often black for boys and the powder blue color for girls. Occasionally you’d see an eggplant color or something, if the person was feeling super edgy. Kids also definitely took note if you were wearing a fleece jacket that happened to not have the Northface logo connoting a $100+ price tag. Why a bunch of well-off children in Atlanta really took to the aesthetic of an athletic wear/outdoor gear company while spending the majority of their time in air conditioning, I do not know. Northface still makes these jackets and they look almost exactly the same, which probably says something both about the timelessness of good sportswear and just how obsessed with blending in teenagers can be.

3. Birkenstocks.

This one became particularly hilarious to me after I left for college in Vermont and found out the William H. Macy caricature of a Vermonter from Thank You For Smoking was quite based in reality. Again, why a bunch of suburban kids in Georgia grabbed onto a brand synonymous with granola outdoorsy-ness, I’m not sure. I actually did convince my parents I needed a pair of these and got some chocolate-brown mules for Christmas one year. They were invariably comfortable, and I wore the crap out of them for several years — at which point they really started looking like crap.

4. Polos with an Abercrombie & Fitch moose or a Hollister seagull.

Now here’s where you could inject a bit of personality: into the color of your polo shirt! I’m thinking specifically 2005-2006. Some kids would even double-layer their polo shirts and pop the collars up. The Abercrombie and Hollister brands were the lowest price tier to be deemed acceptable in certain circles. I never even loved polo shirts, but I’m sure I asked for one of these at some point. I definitely would not have bothered trying to acquire a logo-less polo shirt, because what on earth would even be the point?

5. Polos with the actual Ralph Lauren polo horse.

Everyone seemed to notice the kids who took it a step further and wore “legitimate” polo shirts — another bland, unchanging institution of a wardrobe item that can easily cost you $80-100. Lacoste alligators were a dime a dozen, too. Maybe a lot of the kids I knew actually shopped at outlet malls, and I just never knew about it?

6. Multicolor print Dooney & Burke purses.

As with the Canada Goose jackets that have virtually taken over Manhattan, you’ll probably note that all of the items on this list up to this point are a little on the neutral/purposely inoffensive side. Not these purses, bitch! They came in all kinds of cartoonishly colorful patterns that I think back on fondly the way one might think of a Lisa Frank trapper keeper — like yeah that was fun but also, yikes! (I think I’m specifically thinking of the cartoon heart pattern, which I absolutely lusted after and, sadly, never obtained.) Granted, they made sure you still knew exactly who made each bag, either with a full-on repeated-logo print (ripping off the even-more-expensive Louis Vuitton print, I’ve always assumed?) or a decent-sized “Dooney & Bourke” metal plaque.

7. Velour Juicy Couture tracksuits.

I actually did get one of these! My mom and I found it at the Saks outlet for like 70% off. It was dark purple and had an angel, and also the word “angel,” embroidered and bedazzled on the back. It was extremely comfortable and I wore it constantly. But I also can’t deny that, like every other girl in my school who had one, its biggest draw was that everyone seeing you wearing it would know exactly what brand it was. These were particularly popular among the girls I danced with, as the “sportswear” aspect made more sense for us. Though I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to wearing this ensemble to school, like, at least once a week.

*****

This was trip down ~memory lane~, but I’ve realized just how big a part conspicuous consumption plays in our society and social lives — and just how early it starts. Of course, if you really want to buy yourself a Canada Goose jacket, by all means, do so. I just hope we all — myself included — realize what (and who) influences the personal spending decisions we make at every point in our lives.

Holly is the Executive Editor of TheFinancialDiet.com. Follow her on Twitter here, or send her your ideas at [email protected]!

Image via IMDB

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Source: https://thefinancialdiet.com/7-middle-school-status-symbols-that-still-haunt-my-dreams-at-27/

#read more #see more #check it out #interesting #learn more

[artificialqueens]

The Best Years of Our Lives (Trixya/Pearlet) Ch. 7 - Athena

A/N: Hi, everyone! So I return to school very soon, and since I’m starting at a new school I probably won’t be able to write  very much. I have a couple more chapters written, but I’m either gonna cut this short or have a really long break. 

The next morning, Trixie’s head was pounding, and her mouth was dry. The sun shining in through the window made her pounding headache worse. She crawled under her covers for relief.  

Jesus fucking Christ. 

Trying to remember what had happened the night before, Trixie closed her eyes. She remembered the blue drink Fame made her. She remembered that she drank so much that she couldn’t remember how much she had drank. Thinking harder, remembered playing Spin the Bottle, which reminded her of her kiss with Katya.

Fuck.

Trixie groaned. Next, she remembered Alyssa coming into the room. She remembered accidentally texting Fame what should have went to Violet.

Oh, no.

She wished she could have forgotten throwing up and laying on the bathroom floor.

Lastly, she remembered telling her friends that she slept with Katya.

Oh fuck, this is bad. This is really fucking bad.

Trixie looked for her phone, which somehow had made its way under her bed. As she plugged her phone into the charger, she saw two unread texts.

From: Vi Hey, girl. Hope you’re doing okay today

She saw that the other was from Katya, and decided she’d text Violet later.

From: Katya Zamoksldjslkdf Text me in the morning. Please.

To: Katya Zamoksldjslkdf Fuck. I really said that didn’t I?

From: Katya Zamoksldjslkdf Afraid so. I did some damage control, but it’s out there. Can I come over?

To: Katya Zamoksldjslkdf Give me 15.

Trixie headed to the bathroom, grimacing as she remembered her adventure in the bathroom the night before. She looked in the mirror. Her eye makeup was smeared, one eye almost completely off, probably rubbed on her pillow case. Her lipstick was smudged. After drinking two large glasses of water, she removed the remnants of her makeup and brushed her teeth. As she threw on a pair of leggings and an oversized t-shirt, she got a text from Katya telling her to go to the door.

As she was waiting by the door, she saw that Alyssa was working at the desk.

“How ya feeling?” Alyssa asked energetically.

“Oh you know. Like shit.”

“Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it?”

Trixie didn’t have to wait long before Katya made her way to the door. It surprised Trixie how Katya was dressed nicely and had her makeup was done, a stark contrast to Trixie’s appearance. 

“Hi.”

“Hey. Can we talk? Preferably somewhere private.”

They settled on one of the couches in the empty lobby. There was a pause.

“Oh my God Katya, I’m so sorry I–”

“Don’t worry, it is not your fault. Well, it is. But that’s besides the point.” She paused. “What do you want to tell everyone?”

“Well,” Trixie said with a sigh. “I guess we should just tell them. They’re our friends.”

“If you think that’s what’s best.”

“I do. But I still don’t want to be… out out.”

Katya hugged Trixie. “That’s perfectly fine.”

To: Vi With Katya right now, be up in a sec

As they made it up the first half flight of stairs, Katya grabbed Trixie by the hips and kissed her.

“Thank you for being so patient with me,” Trixie said.

“Anytime.”

Trixie knocked on Violet’s door. “Come in.”

Neither Katya nor Trixie had been in Violet and Fame’s room before. It was clear which side belonged to Violet. There were a lot of dark colors. On the walls were sketches of different pieces of clothing. Right above her bed was a picture of a scantily clad pin-up girl. In the corner of her side was a dress form with black fabric draped over it. This was a stark contrast from Fame’s side of the room, which was bright and full of color. Strung over her bed were fairy lights. On the wall, she had a polaroids of a farm and of chickens. Fame had told Trixie she grew up raising chickens, and went on a fifteen minute long tangent about how awesome chickens were.

Pearl was on Violet’s bed, sitting next to her, while Fame was looking in the door hung over the bathroom mirror putting mascara on.

Hey, girl,” Violet said. “What do you remember?”

“I think I have the SparkNotes version in my head. I remember the highlights.”

“And how’s your head?” Fame asked, turning around.

“Pounding.”

Pearl walked over to the fridge and grabbed some Gatorade and handed it to Trixie.

She took a swig. “Thanks.” There was a silence.

Trixie coughed to fill the silence, and then immediately regretted it. She rubbed her temple. “Well. You heard last night. It’s true. I don’t really know what else to say.”

“What does that mean? Are you guys…?” Fame questioned.

“We haven’t really… talked about that yet.” Trixie turned to Katya who remained silent.

“Well, you guys can talk about that whenever you’re ready. Violet, are you excited for your birthday next week?” Trixie was so thankful that Fame changed the subject.

“No, but I’ll finally be the same age as you hookers.”

Pearl shifted. “So, what’re we gonna do?”

“I hate birthdays. I don’t want to do anything.”

“What about the cabin?” Fame questioned.

“That could be fun. We haven’t been in a long time. So, my parents have this nice cabin about two hours away. It’s really nice, and since they’re always away, they never use it. I have keys to it, but I haven’t been in a few years. We can go, I guess. Nothing better to do this weekend.”

“Are you actually agreeing to do something fun on your birthday?” Fame asked incredulously.

“I guess I am.”

—–

After finalizing the plans, Katya, Trixie, and Fame went to get food with Kim, leaving Pearl and Violet cuddling on the bed. Pearl was absentmindedly stroking Violet’s hair.

“What do you want for your birthday?”

“Nothing,” Violet said as she grabbed Pearl’s hand and started massaging circles into her palm. “I already told you, I hate birthdays.”

“Why are you so dead-set on hating your birthday?”

She sighed. “You know how I keep saying that my parents weren’t around?”

Pearl nodded. “Well this one time, when I was about to turn nine, we had a huge vacation planned. We were gonna go to Disneyland. I was so excited. My parents didn’t usually take me on vacations with them. Anyway, I was all packed and ready to go, but that morning, my dad got called into work. My mom decided that she didn’t want to take me by herself. So, it was cancelled. And almost every birthday after, they were either gone on business or some getaway. They always left a card and something from Tiffany’s.” She pulled her silver heart necklace out from under her shirt. “This is what they got me for my sixteenth birthday. I didn’t see them until the week after.”

“Oh, Vi, I’m so sorry.”

Tears started forming in Violet’s eyes. She managed to fake a smile. “Not your fault.”

Pearl wiped the tears away with her sleeve. “Violet, I swear to God, this is going to be the best birthday ever, and after this, you won’t hate your birthday anymore.”

Violet kissed Pearl, and then fell asleep.

To: Trixie, Katya, Kim, Fame: Hey guys. Normally id come over to talk to you guys about this, but violet’s asleep on my arm. violet hates birthdays a lot so we need to make this one good. I think I do something cool but you guys need to help me out.

After a long group chat, everyone decided on how to best surprise Violet. Fame volunteered to help Pearl find a romantic area to take her, while Kim and Trixie volunteered to make a cake.

Pearl sighed with content as she kissed Violet’s forehead. 

#pearlet #trixya #pearl liaison #violet chachki #katya zamolodchikova #trixie mattel #kim chi #miss fame #au #athena #rpdr fanfiction #submission #the best years of our lives #lesbian au #college au

[neanicnamii]

Note: This is a work of fiction. The author unfortunately did not search facts thoroughly.

--------------------------------------------

As my head is resting on the bars that separates me fron the sitting police, I tried to ignore the pointless  bickering in front of me. I sighed knowing that this won't stop anytime soon.

Hi. My name is Katniss Everdeen, I was in the Hunger Games, I escaped. Peeta... Peeta was left behind. Just kidding. I am definitely not Katniss. That girl is just a character from the book I stole from my friend Jess. It was a great story. Anyways, she wasn't mad at me for stealing her three precious books. She understands that it is inevitable. I'm a kleptomaniac, I itch to steal things. But, excuse me, I returned it after reading all of them.

If you think that the reason I'm behind bars is because of this illness of mine, damn right it is. I was caught shoplifting in another town's convenience store.

"Can't you understand sir? I already told you. She has illness. Here's her medical certificate. She can't help it. Can't you excuse her this time? Just this time we promise. Please, we really need to go." My blonde friend Jess once again pleaded with the policeman in front of her. And as what he has been doing all along, he denied the certification. "Miss, it isn't an excuse. Theft is theft in the eyes of the law. Besides, she's a minor, she'll only be here until tonight. She'll be safe here. Go wherever you have to go."

I nodded as the police told Jess that, I smiled widely at her and shooed her away. "Bye Jess, see yah!" She sputtered, "B-but they might replace you! It's the last rehearsal Ree!" I just rolled my eyes on her. Do I look like I care? I don't wanna be their showgirl for a silly parade tradition. I won't be wearing a dress and make-up to just smile and wave to everyone. That's just yuck in my dictionary.

"Just head back here after, Jess." She only huffed and stuffed back the papers to her bag. "Fine! Gosh Ree!" Jess gave me one last look- her infamous killer glare- and turned around to leave the station. "Don't tell Mom!"

"Or Dad! Love you Jess!" I hope she heard me.

The police smiled at me in an amused way then went back to reading his newspaper. I sighed, good thing this station is small and it's just me inside the cell. This is going to be a loooong wait.

---

I closed the door of the car and sat down on the driver's seat, giddy that I got out of that boring place, just as Jess did the same but in an annoyed manner. She's talking to me but I didn't listen to her, surely she's just nagging me about being careful and responsible or maybe about what happened at the rehearsals and set up. I started to drive away from the police station. "...and then we set up the lights on the float..." I hummed in agreement to her just to make it look like I'm listening. But who am I fooling? She knows when I'm bluffing. "Are you even listening?" She asked, scowl seemingly permanent on her face. I turned to her, "Of course I am." and gave her a shit-eating grin. It did not deter her scowl (Yup! It's permanent). "Bullsh!t."

I couldn't help but snort at that. But, this conversation is like any other; she'll continue to rattle at me anyway. "Anyways Ree, you're lucky! They didn't replace you as Amy. I was so nervous earlier when they're scolding me for being late and without you in tow!" I chuckled 'cause I could see what might have happened earlier in my head. "They could have just saved themselves trouble by just giving the role to Tiffany. She wants it anyways."

"She's a bitch, she does not deserve to be Amy. And she's blonde!"

We are nearing the park of this town, and I'm steering the wheel to park the car near the town park. 

"Last year's Amy is blonde. She wore a wig."

Jessica's forehead creased in confusion.  At first, I thought she was thinking about last year's parade. But apparently, she wasn't. She looked at her surroundings and turned to me so fast I thought she'll  get a whiplash.

"Why are we here? And to point out earlier's argument, you look like Amy, she could be mistaken as your ancestor or something." She said as she removes the lock of the seatbelt. I undid the belt on me too and turned off the engine. "To live a little, and to counter that, I most definitely do not." I opened the car door and went out to feel the night breeze.

"You most definitely do."

---

We sat down on the grass, phone and speakers on my hand. Luckily, there are no people around, well, it's past curfew. I tapped play, and the song serenaded us, creating a peaceful and comforting silence between us.

Anybody's got the power

They don't see it cause they don't understand

Spin around and round for hours

You and me, we got the world in our hands

I wish everyday is like this.

I casted a glance to my side, seeing Jess' eyes closed. She seemed dovish, smiling minutely to herself. The moon illuminates her hair, tied to a ponytail, swishing from side to side a little. She looks beautiful basking in the night glow. She's so beautifully normal, that I feel like I could never be. I'm jealous of what she has, but somehow I'm thankful she's with me.

Everyday people do everyday things but I

Can't be one of them

I know you hear me now, we are a different kind

BANG! And blood curling scream.

We both got startled, and stood up fast. I unplugged the speakers from my phone. "What was that?" Jess asked. "Gun shot?" I muttered meekly.

The breeze, once comforting now ran ice cold on my skin. The hairs on my whole body is standing up, my heart thumping fast. I held on Jess' hand, she squeezed mine. We looked around to see where it came from. "We should go Ree. I-I don't think it's safe here anymore." I only nodded and we started to walk away but suddenly there was another scream, weaker than the previous. There's a woman clutching her side running towards us, she fell on the ground. "Oh my gosh, is she dead?!"

My mind is saying no, but my body moved on its own, running to her, to help her. My phone and speakers fell from my hand as I ran towards the woman. I heard Jess' footsteps behind me. The woman on the ground looks like she's writhing in pain, she's alive. I knelt down on the grass to help the woman sit. She's bleeding, oh my God. "Jess, call an ambulance, a police!" From the corner of my eye, I saw her scramble for her phone inside the pockets of her jeans.

The woman can barely stand, crying, muttering " Help me please." I'm shushing her, telling her everything's gonna be fine. Which I'm not sure it will be. "Damn it, my phone died!" Jess growled in frustration. "The powerbank's inside the car, get it, we'll follow. Call for help immediately."

Jess dashed to where the car was parked as I and the injured woman struggle to find a balance. I put my right arm on her and her left arm on my shoulder. "Are you okay? I-I mean, you can hold up until we get you to the hospital right?" She only cried in response. It seems that that is the only thing she can do now. Her crying does nothing to soothe my panic. My chest tightens, possibly palpitating right now. Sweat is breaking out of me, which makes handling the woman become slippery. The person who shot her might still be somewhere around and might get back again. Awful scenarios sneak inside my head. I am going to die. Oh my God, help me.

As we are still limping towards the car, I saw a tiny glint of silver. The woman was wearing a silver heart-locket necklace. It looked so appealing, my hand itched a little. We are walking but my eyes seemed to find it hard to not look at it.

"Stop!" a man's voice snarled from behind. Just then I noticed my free hand going towards the woman's neck. Damn it, this is not the time for you to get all klepty Ree!

I was spacing out with the shock of my uncontrolled sickness, I almost didn't notice the woman untangling herself from me. I looked at her and she smiled ruefully at me. She mouthed 'thank you', then bang!

She fell on the ground with a thud. I screamed, tears burst out of my eyes. The woman's eyes are still open, blood seeping out of her white blouse.

I turned around only to find the killer running away.

#writeblr #author #story