#I’ve done almost a whole degree. and I’ve been running this club for a year. and I’m abt to start a whole new thing and I don’t know what | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

headheartbellarke · 3 years

Text

Paper Rings | OWEN JOYNER

Requested by anon: “Owen request? A series of events that leads Owen to finally working up the courage to propose to his girlfriend?” PAIRING(s): Owen Joyner x fem!reader WARNING(s): some language, mentions of abuse, panic attack, anxiety, and fluff haha WORDS: 3.7k SUMMARY: Five times Owen almost asks his girlfriend to marry him, and one time he actually does.

Charlie looks around, feeling out of place amongst the big mirrors, bright lights, and the sparkling diamonds. When his best friend, Owen, told him that he wanted a ‘guys night’ (he’s still unsure as to why he wants to have one: they live together, it’s guys’ night every night – he was expecting bars, or clubs, or fancy restaurants; things they don’t get to do every night, because of work. But he definitely wasn’t expecting to be dragged into a jewellery store.

“O, buddy, what are we doing here?”

Owen shushes him, walking ahead to a counter. A woman with kind eyes greets him. “Mr. Joyner!”

He smiles, familiarity pooling in his eyes.

Charlie frowns. He didn’t expect Owen to be into jewellery – sure, he buys stuff for his sister and mother, but he always takes them with him.

He thinks of Y/N, Owen’s girlfriend of about five years – there’s a possibility that he may be buying something for her, but it’s highly unlikely. Y/N has been pretty vocal about the fact that she hates diamonds, and who’s to blame her, really? Her father used to buy her mother a diamond necklace after every time he hit her or when he came home smelling of another woman’s perfume.

Charlie exclaims, “Owen! I’m gonna die if you don’t tell me what’s going on!”

“I know, I know.” He shushes him, again, and Charlie feels like a child, even though he’s older than the blonde boy. Owen turns to the woman in front of him, Miranda, as her name tag reads, and says, “I hope it’s ready.”

She nods, excitedly. “Yes! I have it right here with me.”

She disappears beneath the counter, and Charlie expects her to return with a big box, like a magician’s apprentice. But, instead, she emerges with a small, tiny box and he wonders –

As realization dawns upon him, he feels a rush of euphoria. “Oh my god, are you –”

Owen nods, his face aglow with anticipation, hope and adoration. “I – I walked into this store a couple of weeks ago, after I decided that I wanted to marry her, I mean, I’ve known it for a while, you know? I can’t see myself being with anyone but her for the rest of my life, and I want a family with her. She’s my soulmate, dude. And I – I think it’s the right time, too. She’s got that amazing job, and my career’s going great, so, yeah. I wanna marry her.”

Charlie sniffs, feeling tears at the back of his eyes. “Bro.”

His friend grins. “Bro.”

Charlie pulls him into a hug, but Owen pushes him away, and they swat each other’s hands for a second before Owen whisper shouts, “Do you wanna see the ring or not?!”

Charlie’s eyes widen and he nods. They turn to the woman in front of them, and she points to the box placed on the counter before them. “If you’re ready.”

Owen nods, and Charlie feels amazed at the determination clouding his irises. He opens the box, and the Canadian boy gasps.

Inside sits a simple platinum ring. Except at the middle, there’s a diamond shaped like a star. It’s so beautifully built, every edge looking like they’re fit to cut steel. And the entire ring – it’s so simple, yet beautiful, and Charlie knows why he picked it.

It’s a mirror of the way Owen sees Y/N – something gorgeous, something priceless, something elegant, yet something so simple to him, and something that will always makes sense, no matter what.

Owen inhales, staring at his reflection in the full body length mirror in front of him. He’s going to do it today – he is going to ask his best friend, his soulmate and the love of his life to marry him. He has planned it all – even Charlie went out with the rest of the cast tonight to give the twenty-three-year-olds some privacy. (Charlie, Y/N, and Owen live together in Vancouver, at least while shooting the fourth season of Julie and The Phantoms, so, as one can guess, it’s really difficult to get a moment alone – but since the both of them love Charlie so fucking much, they don’t really mind.)

He straightens his tie and hears soft footsteps in the hallway outside his room. Y/N’s head pokes in, her face lit up like Christmas lights.

“Don’t you look sharp!” She says, while walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his torso. Owen smiles, catching her eyes in the reflection. “Are the bad puns ever going to stop?”

She gasps, dramatically, and exclaims, “You don’t gotta be so mean about it!”

He shakes his head, and feels love swell in his chest for the woman behind him. “I love you so much, you know that, right?”

A mischievous glint appears in her eyes. “I could use a reminder.”

Owen grins, turning backwards and cups her face in his hands, about to kiss her, when a voice stops him.

“I think I just broke the coffee machine!”

Y/N’s eyes widen, and she yells, “You did what?!”

Owen’s brows furrow. “Is that –”

She casts him an apologetic glance. “Zoe, yeah. I forgot to tell you, but Cece had to go out last minute, so I offered to watch her for the evening!”

Usually, Owen loves kids, especially Y/N’s cousins like Zoe, but right now, he feels like jumping off a cliff. She seems to sense that as she runs her hands down his arms, and says, “I’m sorry! I know you said that tonight was gonna be just us, but you love Zoe, don’t you? And it’s gonna be fun, I promise!”

It’s not. Owen had booked a table at Y/N’s favorite restaurant in Vancouver, and he would have proposed midway through the dinner, when the musicians there would start to play ‘Love Story’ by Taylor Swift, and when they got to the bridge, he would have dropped to a knee.

Ignoring the weight in his chest, he plasters a smile on his face. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m sorry, I just – it’s been a while since we’ve been alone, you know? With work and all. But I’m sure it’s gonna be great with Zoe, too!”

She nods. “Thank you. We can go out alone next week when Charlie has that photoshoot with Madi!”

He nods. “Absolutely.”

The little black box stays hidden in the pocket of the beige coat in his closet that he never wears.

As Y/N smiles at him, Owen thinks that this is it. This is the moment he’s gonna ask her to marry him.

As the light from the fire illuminates her face, he thinks about how perfect this weekend has been. After long days, and even longer nights of filming, they finally got a weekend off, and Charlie immediately booked a cabin in North Vancouver.

And there’s no one better at planning trips than Charlie.

Along with Owen, Y/N, and Charlie; Madison, Jadah, Jeremy and his wife, Carolynn, Savannah, Sacha, and Tori are here, too, everyone basking in the peace. Throughout the weekend, they’ve done anything and everything they can do in snow – from skiing, to making snow angels, and finally, as the shades of evening rolled on the last day of their trip, they are tired.

After dinner, everyone wordlessly returned to their rooms, and Owen knows that they’re all fast asleep, right now – except Y/N, who is still as bubbly as champagne.

When they returned to their room, Y/N quickly lit the fire – because no matter if it’s snowing or if it’s fifty degrees outside – she is always freezing.

It’s the opposite in Owen’s case, though – he’s always warm, and that’s why Y/N wasted no time to settle in his lap.

Owen quickly pats his pocket to check if the ring’s still there. It is, and it’s been there for the whole weekend. He’s been searching for opportunities, but they were always either with someone, or it wasn’t a good time.

“O?” She asks, her voice soft.

“Hmm?” He replies, threading his fingers through her hair.

Her eyes brighten up, putting the fire in front of them to shame. “I’ve just had an idea.”

“Later. First, I have something to ask you.” He says, his hand reaching into his pocket again.

She smiles. “I know what you’re gonna ask.”

Owen’s surprised. “You do?”

She nods excitedly. “Yeah. Charlie told me!”

He must have had a horrified look on his face because her eyes widen quickly. “Oh, he didn’t want to, believe me! But, now that I know, tell me, when are you gonna do it?”

Owen stammers, suddenly feeling breathless in this room. The anxiety starts to pool in his stomach, along with an anger, directed towards Charlie. “I – I – I can’t believe he told you this…”

She shrugs. “You know that he can’t hide anything from me. He’s like the brother I never asked for. Anyway, so he was showing me some of the designs, and I love you, but I don’t think you can handle a tooth piercing.”

Owen’s brows furrow. “What?”

“Like, totally no offence, but you passed out when the dentist came to do a routine check up on your teeth. I don’t wanna imagine what would happen if you got them pierced.”

“What are talking about?!”

“Charlie and your matching piercings, dummy! What else would I be talking about?” She looks at him as if he’s grown a third head.

Owen’s lips part. “We are not getting matching piercings – I wasn’t gonna ask you that!”

“Oh!” Her eyes widen. “What were you gonna ask, then?”

He gulps, thinking to himself – this is it. This is it. This is it.

“Do you wanna go home for New Year’s?”

He mentally curses when that question comes out of his mouth, and even with Y/N’s bright smile, he starts to feel queasy inside, knowing that he still isn’t confident enough to actually ask her.

Owen wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans and stands up. “Y/N, I have to tell you something.”

She nods, her eyes sweeping across the mostly empty LA beach. He brought her here today to finally ask her to marry him – his past attempts have been nothing short of disastrous.

As he opens his mouth, he feels a pang in his heart, and his mind starts to race. All kinds of thoughts race through his mind, like – what if she says no? what if she hates him for ruining what they have? What if Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift becomes his most relatable song? What if she –

Y/N stands up, and her hand finds that of Owen’s, a reassurance, and he knows that she can sense his anxiety. She doesn’t ask him to talk about it – she knows that he will, eventually, when he’s ready. For now, she shows him that she’s here for him, and somehow that is enough.

As she brushes his hair, his mind starts to calm down, his erratic breathing slowing down and involuntarily matching the pace of her breathing. She whispers, softly, “You’re okay. You’re safe. Everything is okay. You’re okay. I love you. I love you –”

She keeps repeating that, until it’s like a mantra in Owen’s head, turning the racing thoughts to mere background noise.

He opens his eyes, and looks into hers, and finally feels calm. He exhales. “That… uh....”

She nods, comfort flooding through her eyes. “I know, baby. But it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

He shakes his head, taking his hand in hers. “I – I – I think that maybe you and I should, uh, get – um, matching tattoos. Yeah. That’s what I wanted to ask you.” He lies.

She nods enthusiastically. “Yes! Of course. You don’t even have to ask – we’ve always talked about it, and I think that now is the perfect time! Do you wanna –”

As Y/N talks about designs, he thinks that he’s a fucking coward.

As Owen laughs, he feels confident, for once. He knows that tonight he’ll be able to ask her to marry him, especially in front of all his family – he loves his family, and so does Y/N and vice versa. He remembers the first time he brought her home three months after they’d started dating. He remembers feeling absolutely euphoric about the fact that she fit right in with his family. That was also the day that she had told him, for the first time, that she loves him.

He looks around the table, and watches Y/N talk animatedly to his mother. His parents think of her as their own daughter, especially after finding out about her rocky relationship with her father. Y/N’s mother sits next to Owen, and he loves how carefree she looks – her ex-husband, really, was an asshole.

He takes the little box out of his pocket, and his cousin, Elias, gasps. “Is that an engagement ring?” He whispers, his face scrunching as if the sentence left a bad taste in his mouth.

Owen nods. “Yes. Elias, I would appreciate it if you kept it down.”

His cousin raises his hands. “Always, homie.”

He rolls his eyes. “Right.”

Elias looks around. “Hey, do you think that it’s a good idea to propose now?”

“What do you mean?” Owen’s brows furrow.

“I mean people do it in private for a reason. What if she says no and then you get embarrassed in front of your entire family and hers? It’s sympathetic looks for the rest of your life, bro. And your parents wouldn’t be able to talk to her, nor to her mom, ‘cause it’d be, ya know, friggin’ embarrassing. Everyone’s probably gonna hate you.”

Owen’s eyes widen, and he toys with the truth in his cousin’s words. Elias shrugs, and takes a sip of his water. “But it’s up to you, dude.”

Slowly, Owen slides the ring back into his pocket.

Owen looks around, checking if any distractions could be in this room. None. How could it, though? He’s standing in an empty classroom, in the middle of winter break. Nobody in their right minds would be here.

Well, that would mean that Owen’s not in his right mind. To be really, really, really honest – he is kind of losing it. He has been trying to propose to Y/N for the past month, but every time – every god damn time, something comes up and ruins everything.

So, he decided to break into his middle school. Well, ‘break into’ isn’t the right phrase – he asked the guard to give him the keys for the night, and even thanked him with a hundred dollar note. Unlike his girlfriend, he’s incapable of breaking rules.

The guard thought that it was very romantic of him, but really, he’s just tired and wants to get married already. He taps his foot anxiously, and finally hears the door opening, signalling Y/N’s arrival.

God, she looks absolutely adorable. Her nose is crimson from the cold, and she is bundled under what seems to be ten layers of clothing. She huffs, grinning when she notices him.

“Are we here to make out? Because your house was much more comfortable and so, so warm.”

Owen shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Well, are you gonna murder me, O? Because, well, it’s certainly the perfect location.”

“I have to tell you something.” He says, taking a step toward her. He looks around and sees that there is nothing that could possibly ruin this moment, and smiles brightly, preparing himself. Y/N’s eyes gleam with anticipation, as she nods for him to continue.

“Y/N, I still remember the day that I met you. I remember the way you smiled at me even though I had spilled black coffee all over you and ruined your very pretty, white dress.”

She laughs. “I was really mad at first, yeah. But the cutest boy in all of Oklahoma was in front of me, and well, you know that I was a goner.”

He smiles fondly. “And the beautifulest girl in the world was in front of me.”

“That’s not a word.”

“I know. And then you laughed at my dumb jokes, and even agreed to go on a date with me.”

“To compensate for that absolutely gorgeous dress.” She clarifies, a teasing smile on her face.

He grins sheepishly. “And then somehow, somewhere we fell in love, and somehow, you became my other half, and somehow, I can’t imagine a world without you. I don’t want to. You are my best friend, and you are the one person around whom I can be completely myself and face no judgements.”

“No, I do judge you. You’re a little questionable.”

“And what would I do without your wicked sense of humour?”

“Honestly? You’d be lost without me. I mean, you forget to even put your socks in the washing machine.”

“You’re not supposed to wash them. They go on your feet. Obviously.”

“That is disgusting, and you know it.”

He laughs. “I wanna be with you for the rest of my life, and I… I… I want a family with you, you know? I know that we’ve never talked about this, and I don’t know how you would feel about one, but still, if you’re up for it, I’m too. But, if you don’t, that’s okay, too. More than okay.”

For a moment, an unrecognizable expression crosses her face, and he wonders if he’s hurt her. But then the biggest smile blooms on her face.

“We should have talked about this. But I would like a family with you, too. I mean, I’ve never really wanted one, and you know why. But, after seeing you and your family, I realized that a part of me does want it. I do want to have the home that I never got to have with you and I wanna do better. I know that you’ll be an amazing dad, and I wanna raise my kid the way that kids should be raised. And I want it with no one else but you.”

Owen feels as if he’s on cloud nine, and he stares at her for a moment, wondering how lucky he is to find a girl like her. He says, “Y/N, I –”

Before he can ask her the question, though, her ringtone cuts through the silence of the empty classroom. She whispers an apology and takes her phone out from her jeans pocket.

She accepts the call and speaks into the phone. “Hey, Luka, what’s up? Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. Luka, slow down.”

She exchanges a panicked look with Owen.

Speaking of Owen, he’s losing it. Absolutely. He was so close. And for the first time, he had both confidence and hope. And something had to happen. He starts to feel annoyed at Luka, his sister, and then immediately feels bad about it, but then starts to feel annoyed again.

“Oh no, you did what? Do you need me to come?”

At Y/N’s last sentence, Owen bursts out. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

Y/N raises her brows at him. He feels anger replacing all his emotions, anger towards the world, it’s timings, and mostly, towards himself.

Sensing his rage, Y/N gives him a weird look. “What is wrong with you?” She whispers.

“Everything. Everything is wrong!” He whispers back.

He starts to feel breathless, and the familiar sensation of a panic attack starts to overcome him. He looks around, trying to focus on something, anything, when he spots the door.

He looks at his girlfriend, and says, “I love you, but I’m gonna lose it.” With that, he walks by her, and out the doors, while she yells after him.

+1.

It’s been twenty minutes since he last talked to Y/N, and he has lost all hope. He’s now sitting on a park bench a couple of minutes away from the school, and he is listing all the reasons why his life is absolutely shit.

“Hey, you okay?”

Owen looks up, and notices Y/N walking up to the bench, with a concerned look in her eyes.

“I – I just… I’ve been trying to ask you something, Y/N, for the past month. And every time I try to do it, I’m either interrupted, or I’m not confident enough. And, today, there were no distractions, and I was finally feeling confident and hopeful and then my sister decides to ruin it – is she okay, by the way?”

She nods and sits down beside him. “Yeah, she misplaced her dress for tonight.”

He grits his teeth in annoyance. He loves her, but his sister has the worst timing.

Y/N rests a hand on his, an odd look taking over her features. “You should know by now that the answer will always, and obviously be a yes.”

Owen sharply turns towards her. “What?”

A brilliant smile makes its way onto her face. “You are gonna propose, aren’t you?”

A gasp involuntarily escapes him. “How’d you know?”

“Well, you just said some pretty nice things about me. Also, I can see the outline of the ring box, and you keep checking your pocket for it every two minutes, even if you don’t realize it. You’re literally doing it right now.”

In his defence, he wasn’t, or rather, isn’t consciously doing it. He slowly retracts his hand from his pocket and gives her a sheepish smile.

She stands up. “Really, O, are you gonna do it or not –”

“Yep, yep, yep.” He clears his throat and stands in front of her and drops to a knee. He takes the ring out, and flips open the box, and as the diamond’s reflected light dances across her face, Y/N gasps.

“Oh my god, that’s gorgeous!”

He grins. “I have great taste.”

She smiles teasingly. “I know, baby.”

“Will you ma–”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

“You didn’t even let me finish!”

“Someone would’ve probably interrupted you and I couldn’t take the chance of you losing your shit again.”

“You do have a point.”

“I always do.”

He slides the ring onto her finger, and she kneels in front of him to match their heights. She wraps her arms around his neck, and he wraps his around her waist, both desperate to be closer, closer, closer.

“I love you so much.” He whispers into her hair, and she kisses his shoulder.

“I love you. Forever.”

She untangles herself from him, and as she kisses him, Owen realizes that he had no reason to be worried at all.

[MASTERLIST]

reblogs are always appreciated!! <3

382 notes · View notes

extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

cardigan

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence

a/n: this is a limited three part series based on three of my favourite songs from taylor swift’s 2020 life saving albums; cardigan, willow and invisible string. this one is cardigan, hope you enjoy xx

WILLOW

She clutched onto her worn out brown leather bag as she stepped inside the her father’s precinct. There wasn’t much that looked different from when she was a little girl, the tables still stood on the same messy layout which made no sense, the officers still didn’t look up whenever someone came in and the whole room smelled like stale coffee and burnt bread. The only difference was that the once endless room now felt small, nauseating, confining, a place where she didn’t want to be.

- Y/N. - her father’s voice rang through the small room, making her look up to where he was standing. Captain William, or dad if she was lucky enough to call him as such, was an intimidating presence even after all these years yet after her mother’s death it was him who was left of her family. - Come in.

Her shoes felt heavy as she stepped inside his office, two more officers standing inside as she walked with her father. He closed the door, nodding his head which was a tell tale for everyone to sit down. She sat at the end of the dark green couch, away from the other two officers who were looking her up and down as if she were a prey.

- I told you she would be perfect. Inconspicuous, he wouldn’t even think she’s undercover.

- She’s not the type of woman Barnes go for.

- She doesn’t need to be the type of woman he goes for, she needs to be the one who works in his bar and listens to their plans.

Her father had told her about James Barnes. They had been trying to get him in for minor offences yet nothing seemed to pan out. The force knew they could never apprehend him for the crimes he knew he had committed but if they could get him in for something small: weapon charge, drug charge, something. For that to happen they needed someone to be in their circle and unluckily for them, Barnes and his men knew everyone who worked in the force but they didn’t know her. In return for her working in his bar, the force would pay her tuition fees as well as any books she needed.

“It won’t be hard” was what her father had told her but as they dropped her at the bar she couldn’t help but freeze at the door. They were expecting her, she had gotten the job yet she couldn’t find herself walking inside. In any other situation she would’ve rushed past it, it wasn’t the place she would like to be in. Her hand grasped the bar of the door, pushing it open. The nightclub looked vastly desert with squeaky clean floors and bright lighting which showed the dark aesthetic of every single owned Barnes club in town. She didn’t know the man but she knew his style, dark, sleek, leather, sensual even, enough to make people feel sexual whenever they walked into his club. Yet, in broad daylight it was merely an abandoned establishment with one a table with a few hangover men still nursing a bottle of beer each, waiting for 7 PM for the club to come back to life.

She stood out like a sore thumb, dressed in brown tones. A loose gingham black dress over a brown turtle neck covered and low black Mary Janes. Her eyes roamed the room, looking for someone to speak to but someone found her first. A tall man, probably pushing fifty, toothpick hanging from his lips and dirty rag on his left hand. She felt short, cowering under the gaze of the man.

- You're the new girl, or what? - he questioned, thick Brooklyn accent yet Y/N didn’t dare reply, instead nodding at him. - Do you have a name?

- Y/N.

- Y/N, that’s nice. I’m Bobby, I’m the bar supervisor. You wanna talk to anyone? You talk only to me and you’ll do well.

She nodded her head quickly, almost like a bobble head figure, following him behind to bar. Now Y/N knew about bars or at least what they did in them, she just wasn’t expecting to see the huge amount of spirits, wines, and beers behind her. She was almost sure if someone robbed the club, they’d be better off with the booze than the money in the cash register. The man, Bobby, ran through the basics, showing here with the cleaning products were, where some more complicated cocktail mixtures were written, how the washing machine worked and how crucial it was to constantly collect glasses from the bar and put them in there. She held a small reporter notepad, pen scribbling down messy wiggles which she wouldn’t be able to understand later on but it was still worth it. She could memorise it, she was a university student after all hence her memory for cocktails shouldn’t be hard. Everything was so polished, meticulously placed, almost too organised for a bar; the bottles placed onto glass shelves which light from under, placed almost the same measure apart in a sea of expensive beverages.

- Don’t serve any drinks to people who haven’t presented a payment form. If the boss comes in, serve him whiskey on the rocks. Glenlivet, no other brands.

- I’ve never seen the boss.

- You’ll know.

She was left there watching as more staff came in, the sun going down at the same time. “Just breathe, Y/N” she remembered her father’s words, she could do it, she could do it. How hard could it possible be to be a bartender? Just breathe, Y/N. She can do it, she can help his father, she can do this and then no longer have to worry about how many hours she would have to do at that little mean shop which had taken more of her than she gave them. She could be a regular university student, she just needed to breathe.

The purple, blue lights started to light the sunlight coloured bar as people started to queue up outside for a chance to get inside one of the most famous bars in town. She could faintly remember hearing her friends talking about how exclusive it was but as she looked out the window and at the queue she could finally understand it. As the doors opened and people started flocking in, suddenly she was serving drinks left and write, vodka and other shoots drenching her dress and apron as she messily tried to serve everyone at the bar screaming at her to hurry up. She kept running around like a crazy person, dragging bottles and bottles and pouring drinks which kept overfilling and dropping onto the floor. People kept yelling at her “hey sugar, how long does it take you to bring me some vodka?” but one man who was sitting still, gaze glued onto her while a cigarette hanged from the middle of his lips. She cowered under his gaze returning to hand a tray of jello shots to some girls.

She continued to work until the last person was out of the bar but the man remained calmly leaned against the bar, the flame of his cigarette dying down. She tried to avoid him, pretending to clean the spot over and over again but the man merely scoffed, rubbing the butt of the cigarette against the ash tray.

- You’re terrible. - he spoke out, voice raspy. - Who hired you?

- That’s nothing to do with you. - Y/N turned around to place back the bottles onto the shelves.

- Are you the owner?

- No. - she placed the bottles on the shelf, hands shaking.

- Then it is something to do with me. - the air seemed to be punched out of her lungs, as her grip tightened around the neck of the bottle she was holding. She refused to turn around and look at him, understanding what it implied. Instead she just looked at herself in the glass wall. Just breathe, Y/N. - Can I get a ...

- Glenlivet. - she rose herself on her tippy toes, interrupting him mid sentence. Grabbing from ice from under the bar, she added it to the glass, topping it with the expensive whiskey before placing it under a black square napkin. She continued to wipe down the counter until Bobby came back from the storage unit with more alcohol.

- You can go now, Y/N. I’ll see you at 7. - Bobby dismissed her and almost like thunder, she bolted off, not even stopping and allowing him to question why their boss was sitting at the bar.

Clutching her bag against her chest she started walking up to campus. She had done it, or at least managed to do something yet get no information her father wanted. That is unless her father wanted to know James Barnes’ drink of choice which she was pretty sure he didn’t want to know. Reaching her flat, she turned the key around, opening the door to see her friend Wanda waiting in the couch.

- You’re alive. - she mocked, turning the TV on. - Once again, tell me why you said yes to working in a mob bar ...

- It’s not a mob bar, Wanda.

- It is a bar owned by a mob boss who has been blamed on several murders. It is a mob bar.

- I’m just a bartender, nothing is gonna happen.

- Can you tell me again why you’re doing this? Your father is the reason why you were raised by John Hughes’ movies.

- Okay, Wanda, you made your point. - Y/N took her jacket off, hanging it onto one of the hooks in the door.

- I’m buying you pepper spray.

- Pepper spray is illegal, Wan.

- So is the bar you’re working.

- Okay. I’ll be careful, don’t worry. I’ll go to sleep now.

Wanda continued to ramble about her working where she was but there was really nothing she could do other than continue. All she had to do was breathe and listen and the department would pay for her tuition for the rest of her degree. Small price to pay for a much bigger price.

As another day started, the routine started once again with her awaking up and running into class with Wanda complained about her brother followed by spending the rest of her free time until her shift began. Walking back to the bar she was telling herself once more that she would be just fine and that Wanda slipping a knife inside her bag was only her overreacting. Stepping inside the same building, Bobby was setting some shoot glasses on the counter.

- Y/N. - he acknowledged her. - Glad to see you’re still here.

- Wouldn’t be anywhere else. - she placed her bag and jacket under the bar and tied her apron around her waist. - Busy day?

- Fridays are the busiest. All the university kids. Let me know if you need a hand.

- I’m sure I’ll be okay.

Once again, wrong. She was not okay and as everyone found themselves flocking to the bar she was already running around like a crazy person, holding two bottles on each hand as people. The lights were blinding, shining on her as she served and slide more drinks onto the bar counter and to the waitresses who’d give her snide remarks whenever she took too long. Her hands were numb from the ice already yet her face was warm from moving side to side. At least, Mr. Barnes wasn’t around and that was already something she could be thankful for. She knew she had to eventually speak to him if she wanted to ever hear anything or maybe she wouldn’t have; she was good at being invisible, maybe she could just overhear something without having to ever speak with him.

- Hey, sugar, where’s my drink? - a sluggish voice came from the bar and Y/N ignored it. Bobby told her, if anyone sounds or looks drunk to cut them off that “Mr. Barnes doesn’t need drunk people being roudy in his bar”. She continued to serve the group of girls celebrating passing an exam until the man moved over to them. - Hey, I asked where is my drink?

- Sorry, you’re cut off. - she shrugged, grabbing some glass onto a plastic bucket so Bobby could put them in the washing machine.

- What the fuck? C’mon give me my drink.

- No. - Y/N just ignored it, turning around to put the bottles back onto the shelves.

- Well then be useful and show me your tits. - the man scoffed as if it was the best joke in the world. Y/N turned around, speechless at what he had said before grabbing an half empty drink from the bar and throwing it at him which surprised the man just as much. - You bitch!

- What’s the problem here? - fuck. Of course he had to show up. Mr. Barnes made his way towards them, holding that same powerful yet frightening stance as the strobing lights painted his face. His eyes were on her, waiting for her to say something but Y/N was mostly frozen. That was it, she was about to get shot, or worse, lose a finger or a leg or an arm. Oh god, how could she take exams without an arm?

- Your bartender isn’t serving me. - he pointed at her as if he were a 5 year old.

- Really? - Barnes stood slightly behind him and all she could see in a glimpse second was his metal arm, reflecting the strobing lights, come up to the nape of the man’s neck before he slammed his face against the glass topping of the bar counter. Y/N was startled by this, jumping back against the wall of drinks. - Get the fuck out of my bar.

The man ran off, bloody nose, like a scared wounded animal leaving Y/N only to stare at him. Her mind rushed miles an hour, wondering if he had done that to someone what he would do to her. She should’ve taken the pepper spray from Wanda.

- Get back to work. - he left her with that, turning around and getting lost in the sea of people dancing.

- Hey ... - Bobby touched her arm, waking her from her own mind. She looked at her hands; good she still had both hands. - Go take a break, wash the glasses, I’ll do the bartending for a while.

- I’m fine, Bobby.

- I know. I just want you to go do something else. - Y/N nodded, not wanting to disobey anyone yet she couldn’t help but be glad she would be in the back where the big washing machine was for most of the pint glasses and other oddly shaped cups. After all, Mr. Barnes wouldn’t be hanging in the kitchen.

She pushed her hair away from her face and put on the big pink gloves and started to wash the glasses and plates from some small appetisers they sold until closing time started to near. Once the bar was cut off, she joined Bobby to clean the always messy bar and make it look as precise as it looked every single day. Another day survived, no limbs lost.

- That was a good one, Y/N. See you tomorrow. - Bobby bid her farewell as he exited through the door. Y/N stayed behind, moping the floor behind the mar which was mostly a pool of mixed drinks that she always somehow managed to overfill and drop onto the floor on her way to serve them. As she continued to mop, the person who she didn’t want to see sat at the bar and without much thinking, she served him his drink of choice.

- I ... hm ... I have to go, I have to walk home and my flatmate is waiting for me.

- You’re walking home with your flatmate?

- No, she’s waiting for me at the flat. - Y/N grabbed her cardigan, putting it on which immediately brought her a nostalgic warmth.

- I’ll drive you.

- Oh .. no, Mr. Barnes. It is not necessary, I’ve walked home before, I know the way.

- And I know the type of men who walk around my bar. - he downed the whiskey as if it were water. - Come on.

Oh god, I’m going to sleep with the fishes. He’s gonna kill me in his car. Y/N thought to herself as she followed him to the back of the bar where he had parked his car. Of course it was a good car, a new model black Audi with sleek matte black leathered seats which looked more expensive than everything together at the bar. She wondered how much money he made. Her father hadn’t told her much about him and all she knew was merely gossip. He opened the door for her which she took as a sign to get inside the car. Once in, she noticed how awfully warm it was, he probably had the heating on so she took off her cardigan, shoving it in front of her feet as he entered the car.

- Where am I dropping you?

- The student campus, south building

- You’re a student? - he asked as the motor roared, signalling the start of the car. - Why you working here then?

- It pays well. My mother paid for my first years but I still have my third one and a possible masters.

- Why not ask mum for the rest of the money then?

- Well she’s dead. - she said, not taking the eyes off the road. - Her inheritance lasted as long as it could but tuition is expensive.

- I’m sorry. - he tried to sneak a look at her but gave up, instead keeping his eyes on the road. - You’re a terrible bartender.

- You’ve said that one time already, I’ve heard it. If I’m so terrible why don’t you fire me?

- Bobby likes you. Says you’re a quick learner. Yet again, he likes every single wide eyed Disney Princess girl who works behind the bar. I give you a month or two before you quit or get knocked up.

- I’m not gonna quit and I’m not gonna get knocked up either.

- Got a boyfriend?

- No.

- Husband? Friends with benefits?

- I don’t have the time so if you want to get rid of me you’ll have to fire me.

- I don’t fire people. - she saw her building come closer and closer from the car window. - Is it that one?

- Yes. - she grabbed her bag, eager to leave the car before anything could happen.

- Hey, you got a black dress? - he asked as she exited the car and she nodded yes. - Good, bring it to work tomorrow.

She mumbled an okay as the car drove away. God, she was alive. Good. All she wanted now was to return to her home and in a few minutes she was back in her living room where Wanda and her twin brother Pietro were waiting for her. Of course waiting meant watching Shark Tank and discussing how bad all the inventions were.

- How was work in hell? - Wanda didn’t even look at her, eyes glued to the TV while she stuffed popcorn in her mouth.

- I didn’t need to use the knife you snuck into my bag, thank you.

- You snuck a knife onto her back? - Pietro looked dumbfound at his sister who immediately snapped back with a response.

- She’s working for James Barnes, she needs to carry a knife block and she’s lucky I only put a steak knife. - Wanda turned around in the couch. - Hey where’s your cardigan? I swear you left with it.

- Shit. - Y/N looked around. - Fuck, I’ve left it in his car.

- Whose car?

- Mr. Barnes’. He gave me a ride and I took my cardigan off because the car was so warm. Fuck. I’ll never see it again.

- Why were you in his car, are you crazy? - now Wanda was interested. Clearly her best friend’s lack of judgment was more interesting than the poor soul trying to pitch a tuna can opener shaped like a tuna to a bunch of executives.

- He gave me a ride ... oh and do you have a black dress?

- I do. - Pietro said gaining an odd look from the two girls. - What? Girls love me and I love them. Stuff get’s left behind. What can I say?

- You’re disgusting. - Wanda rolled her eyes.

taglist: @lookiamtrying @mariamermaid @sebastianstansqueen @unmagically

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky/reader #bucky/you #bucky/y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #mob boss!bucky #mob!bucky

251 notes · View notes

ghstandpucks · 3 years

Text

Toe Pick ~ Jeff Skinner

Hello! Sorry I have kinda been MIA, I’ve had a lot going on personally lately. This idea came to my head though and I could not pass up writing it! I just love the fact that Jeff was a figure skater lol I hope you are all doing well and staying safe and healthy! Enjoy!

Summary: Being partnered with Jeff as a pairs team caused you both to rely on each other at an early age. When life’s ‘toe picks’ come along though, your friendship was tested. And when a toe pick later on throws you back into each others lives, will it be the same?

Warnings: None, just fluff!

Master List

The toe pick at the front of a figure skater’s blade can either create phenomenal moments in a routine, or can bring a skater down. The sharp points can do some damage, but also give the ability to fly when tapped correctly into the ice. You can often hear figure skaters talk about toe picks, and for two kids in particular, saying “toe pick” when they stumbled became a game. On and off the ice, the two were inseparable. That was, until a ‘toe pick’ in life took them away from one another.

Past ~ 2000

Eight-year-old Jeff Skinner was working on his flying camel, waiting for his coach to get on the ice and start his lesson. It wasn’t just any lesson today though. He was scheduled to meet a new girl who just joined the skating club, one that his coach thought would pair with him perfectly for a pair skating event. Jeff wasn’t so sure about skating with a partner at first, but then after watching a senior skating pair perform, he changed his mind. The throws and different spins that could be done with a skating partner interested him, so he let his coach talk him into it.

He had been told that the new girl had just moved to the area. You were also a single skater with promising talent and a year younger than Jeff. His coach had watched you try out for their skating club, and asked if you would be interested in pairs skating as your showman-like style was almost uncannily the same as Jeff’s. You smiled and nodded, just excited to be accepted into the prestigious club.

As Jeff stopped what he was doing to look at the clock on the wall, he felt someone run into his back. “Sorry! Toe pick,” a giggle came from behind him. He turned and saw a girl about his age, grinning with a missing tooth off to the side. Jeff laughed to himself.

“It’s fine. Are you okay?” he asked. He had never seen you before, and started to think you may be who he was being partnered up with.

“I’m fine! I’m Y/N. I just moved here,” you introduced yourself. Jeff smiled, a toothy grin that matched yours.

“I’m Jeff. Are you skating pairs?” he asked, and you nodded.

“I was singles, but they asked me to switch when I tried out. I don’t know who I’m partnered with though,” you admitted.

“I think you might be my new partner…” was all Jeff was able to say before his coach skated over to the two of you.

“Jeff, I see you’ve already met Y/N. I think you two will get along great. If you’re both warmed up, why don’t we get started with the basics,” Ms. Seale said, and the two young skaters nodded. The next hour was spent learning how to stand and skate in perfect unison, the two kids fitting each other’s speed and style flawlessly, almost as if they were meant to be paired up.

Three years later, you and Jeff were still skating pairs and about to enter your first junior’s national competition. After taking the ice for your groups warm up, the two of you waited off to the side with your coach running back and forth to see where the order of skaters was at. “Don’t drop me,” you leaned into Jeff as you always did before a performance.

“You trust me?” he grinned at you, holding out his pinky.

“Always,” you smiled back, wrapping your pinky around his. Pinky promises became a thing for the two of you when you first started learning lifts. You were nervous, and Jeff promised that he would never drop you. He had always kept that promise, even going as far as breaking your fall with his own body just to keep your trust. Your coach came to get you a few minutes later, and grabbing your hand Jeff led you out onto the ice. You took silver at that competition, the names Jeff Skinner and Y/N Y/L/N becoming known in the competition circuit.

Two years after that, when Jeff was 13 and you were 12, Jeff hurt himself while doing a double axel. The two of you had just won junior nationals and were working on senior level moves. His injury caused you to pull out of an upcoming competition, the both of you devastated. “I’m really sorry Y/N,” Jeff said one evening as the two of you were doing homework together. Being skating partners had drawn the two of you close together on and off the ice. You trusted Jeff with your life, and may have formed a small crush on him over the years.

“It’s okay J. It’s just a toe pick in the plan. You’ll heal and we’ll be back out there before you know it,” you tried to reassure him.

“What if I don’t though?” he asked, worried this injury could be more serious than either of you were thinking.

“Hey, do you trust me?” you asked, holding your pinky out toward him. He grinned and this time wrapped his pinky around yours.

“Always.”

Unfortunately, the injury Jeff sustained took a while to heal. It also caused him to choose between hockey and figure skating. Jeff didn’t want to give up on you, but he also wanted to pursue hockey. You smiled when he told you and supported him the best you could, even though you went home that day and cried your eyes out. How were you supposed to find a new partner? You and Jeff had been skating together for five years at that point, you didn’t want to start over with someone else. You tried though, and eventually found a partner that was compatible enough to compete with. Jeff would ask you how things were going when you saw each other, and you would always lie, saying things were great when really you couldn’t stand your new partner.

Though the two of you stayed friends for a while, you always going to Jeff’s hockey games and him coming to open skate and competitions for you, you eventually drifted apart when Jeff graduated high school. You couldn’t help but feel like when Jeff traded in his toe picks for hockey skates, he traded you in as well. A few years later you closed the door on your skating career after a particularly bad injury, and the memories were all that was left of the toothless grinning boy you had first met on the ice that one day way back when.

Present Day

Take the job in Buffalo they said, you muttered to yourself as once again your socks were all wet from not wearing the proper foot wear and stepping in a puddle on the way to the rink. It had been years since you skated competitively, now being 27. When you graduated high school, you went to college and earned a degree in media, sticking with sports. You mainly stuck around the figure skating circuit, also finding a job as a coach to put yourself through college. A month ago, a job was offered to you at a local news station in Buffalo as their sports reporter, and you jumped at the opportunity.

When you arrived at the rink, you changed into your tights and leggings. Skating always destressed you, and after settling in to your new place and trying to learn the ropes of the station, you needed some time to unwind. Only a few people were skating, the rink being otherwise deserted as the weather outside wasn’t the kindest at the moment.

Stepping out onto the ice, a relaxed smile spread across your face. You mindlessly curved on your edges, letting muscle memory take over. Ever so briefly did you let your eyes close, basking in the chill of the air and the sounds of your blades carving through the ice. A moment later though, you were pulled out of your head as your blade caught a particularly deep rivet in the ice, causing you to trip forward on your toe pick. With a squeak you were almost ashamed of leaving your mouth, you fell into the back of a stranger. “Oh my God, I am so so sorry! I caught my toe pick and…” you trailed off as the stranger turned around.

“Toe picks can be nasty, no worries,” he smiled at you, then stopped himself. It would have been the perfect romcom meet-cute, if the two of you hadn’t recognized each other in an instant. “Y/N?” Jeff asked, not entirely believing you were this beautiful woman who just collided with him.

“J,” you whispered, shocked as well. “What are you doing here?”

“I play for Buffalo?” he said, smiling but unsure at the moment. You were honestly the last person he expected to see that morning. Your face went red out of embarrassment. Of course you had followed his career; you knew he was in Buffalo but in the haste of your move you forgot.

“I knew that,” you mumbled out, and blushed at his chuckle. Why was it after all these years, you could feel your crush resurfacing the second he smiled at you?

“I’m more curious as to why you’re here?” he asked, leaning on his hockey stick.

“Just moved actually. I’m a sports reporter now for the local Buffalo news,” you smiled at him and Jeff grinned.

“No shit!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. You gladly wrapped your arms around him, feeling at home for once in this new city.

A week had passed and you had talked to Jeff every day of it. What started out as a “How are you settling in?” text, turned into constant messages, a quick phone call, and even a facetime when he was on the road that weekend, with plans made for coffee the following week when he was back.

That coffee turned into lunch, which turned into Jeff taking you around to a few places and now the two of you were at dinner, having spent the whole day together. The two of you were catching up, and easily fell into your younger selves where physical contact wasn’t a big deal because you were constantly holding hands on the ice. It was as if the years had never passed, and you realized your feelings for Jeff had never truly gone away. He would smile at you, and just like that you were seven years old again running into him your first day at the rink. “Are you working Friday night?” Jeff asked as he drove you home that evening.

“No, I’m off actually. Why?” you asked. Jeff cleared his throat, seeming a little nervous about what he was going to say next.

“Would you want to come to my game? I can get you a ticket,” he said, glancing at you quickly. You smiled and nodded.

“I would love to!” you said, a little too enthusiastically but it made Jeff visibly relax. “You don’t have to get me a ticket though. I can buy one.”

“No. It’s the first pro game of mine that you’ll be at, I’m getting you a ticket,” he stated, then added, “Don’t argue with me,” as you opened your mouth to do so.

“Thank you,” was all you said with a giggle. Jeff smiled as you both fell back into an easy conversation.

~ ~ ~

Friday came and you were being shown to your seat at the arena by an attendant. You thanked him and sat down, waiting for the Sabres to take the ice. Looking around, you twiddled your thumbs at being right up against the glass. What did Jeff do to get you this seat? Before you could second guess coming though, the team took the ice and you immediately found your old skating partner. A few minutes later he locked eyes with you and skated over with a big grin. He tugged on his jersey and pointed at you as you smiled back at him. You had bought a Sabres’ jersey for the occasion, Jeff spotting the 53. Nodding, you turned around slightly to show him the “Skinner” across the back. If Jeff’s grin could get any larger, it would have split his face. Seeing you there at his game, in his jersey, after all these years brought back all the feelings of being young with you; leaning on you; putting his whole trust in you. The Sabres may be his current teammates, but you would always be his first teammate; his first crush; his first love.

The game was a tough one, the Sabres barely pulling out a win. You were so relieved when the final buzzard sounded. Jeff had asked you to meet him outside the locker room earlier that day, so you made your way there. Standing off to the side, you watched some of the guys spill out to their loved ones, smiling at how familiar it all felt. You remembered in high school when you used to wait for Jeff after his games with his parents.

A couple minutes later you spotted the slightly curly hair of the man you had grown up with. He grinned as he spotted you, and lifted you into a big bear hug once he got to you. “Congrats J! Good game,” you said into his neck before he set you down.

“I’m so glad you came,” he said softly, and you blushed under his gaze. “I’m glad you moved here,” he whispered.

“Me too,” you said under your breath. Jeff was about to say something when your moment was interrupted.

“You must be the old figure skating partner Jeff won’t shut up about,” the Sabres’ captain Jack Eichel patted Jeff’s shoulder and extended his hand to you.

“That would be me. Hope it was positive,” you tried to hide your nerves with a joke. Jeff rolled his eyes.

“Trust me?” he held out his pinky to you like he would when you were younger.

“Always,” you responded automatically as Jack looked on amused.

~ ~ ~

After that evening, you went to all of Jeff’s home games that you could. The two of you were also together all the time, practically spending every free moment with each other. Two months later you were curled up into Jeff as you watched a movie at his apartment. You weren’t together, but it was obvious to everyone around you that the feelings were there. Since you were used to being physically close to him, many thought you were already together. The both of you would awkwardly laugh those comments off.

As the movie credits rolled, you sat up and looked at the time, realizing you should probably get home as it was almost midnight. You started to unwrap yourself from the blanket on top of you when Jeff spoke up. “Don’t go,” he whispered.

“It’s late J,” you laughed lowly.

“Exactly. Stay,” he smiled softly, but had a serious look in his eyes. “I hate saying goodbye to you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you smiled, slightly confused by what he said. Jeff shook his head and sat up.

“That’s not entirely what I meant,” he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand as you took his other hand in yours.

“Then how did you mean it?” you asked, keeping your eyes on his. Jeff sucked in his lips, looking at you thoughtfully.

“I’ve always felt bad for choosing hockey over you; over being your partner. I felt terrible when you got hurt and I wasn’t around to stop it from happening. When we lost touch, there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of reaching out to you, but didn’t cause I was worried it was too late. And now you’re here, and back in my life and I don’t want to make those same mistakes all over again,” he said. You squeezed his hand.

“I hope you know I don’t blame you for any of that Jeff. You had to do what was best for you, and I’m so proud of you. Life just dealt us some…”

“Toe picks?” he interjected causing you to laugh.

“Yeah, some toe picks,” you said softly. The two of you sat in comfortable silence, letting his words sink in. “I don’t want to lose you again either,” you whispered, and Jeff sent you a smile that made your heart flutter. Slowly, you both leaned in closer to each other, your lips finally meeting. It was everything you ever thought kissing Jeff would be like, and so much more. As you separated, you both had the largest smiles on your faces. Slowly, Jeff stood up and pulled you along with him.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, sweeping a piece of hair behind your ear. This time you knew Jeff wasn’t teasing when he said those words, he wasn’t just asking because you were worried about him dropping you, but asking because your relationship was about to dive into uncharted territory, and he knew that it would change everything. Though, then maybe it wouldn’t. Being “together” was simple because you had skated together for so long.

Taking his hand, you nodded. “Always,” you said, meaning it with every fiber of your being. Jeff smiled that brilliant, infectious smile at you, and led you to down the hall to his room. That night you both fell asleep tangle up with each other, and completely in love with this figure skating boy turned hockey player that you had known for what felt like eternity.

#nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #jeff skinner imagine #buffalo sabres imagine #jeff skinner x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

79 notes · View notes

cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

Text

Dream a Dream (Renjun x you)

a/n: Hello! It’s been a while, but happy new year! Sorry for not updating any stories, as I mentioned in previous post I have several stories stuck because of home works and a busy week.

So, here marks my first oneshot of Renjun and first oneshot after the Christmas project! Without further delay, here we go!

Warning : angst but of course it ends beautifully you can also see I am simping Renjun now :D

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　

For the second time, you sigh and look into your brother’s eyes trying to find help. The dining room suddenly feels so suffocating and you try to cower yourself to feel smaller in this room. Across you is your brother, Jeno, and on his right is your father beside you sit your mother.

“I have told you, you are not going to Japan, not to study there.” Your mother continues her rambling. It is dinner, but she doesn’t seem to care. The atmosphere is ruined, for you, to enjoy the heartful dinner.

You want to backlash at her words, saying that no matter what she says, you will find a way to get that scholarship offer and fly to the Rising Sun country to pursue a degree. However, you know better to be quiet now if you still want to try and coax her tomorrow.

Earlier you were saying that your application to your dream university in Japan is accepted, Jeno was delighted when he heard this but your happiness come to an end right the second your mother went into your room and snatch the acceptance letter. Her eyes widened and the next thing you know, she stormed out of the room with a hard look on her face.

When your father arrives home, everyone is seated in their chairs and mother decided to talk about the acceptance letter and how you are not allowed to go.

“I’ve told you (y/n), you are my only daughter and I do not want to lose my only daughter.” She at first calmly says this. Then she continues “Didn’t I tell you already that you’re beautiful, pretty, charming, and those traits are enough to ensure you a rich husband that will fulfil your life perfectly.”

Your father doesn’t seem to object nor care, well you believe he is already tired listening the same thing going on for the last three years. Since your freshman year in high school, you’ve been telling your family of your dream to study in Japan, but since day one, your mother objected. Her reason was not because you’re dumb or your family cannot fund the tuition, it’s merely because she believes a daughter shouldn’t live a hard life. Studying and working hard are the responsibilities of the men she said, and women like you just have to find the rich husband, dress nice beside them and be their good companion.

“Mom, I know, but the world has changed. I want to pursue my dream like Jeno hyung.” You politely speak up.

Her grip on the spoon stiffens and she looks into you sternly, “Jeno should earn his degree so he can work successfully and provide good wealth for his family. You darling, I am offering you an easier path and I know just the perfect place to find you the dearest, rich husbands. Now enough of this talk, finish dinner and help me clean up the dishes.”

Jeno kicks your leg under the table to at least send you a signal that he is going to stand on your side. His face shows he is sorry for you, but he knows now is not the right time yet to speak up.

Dinner ended and you help your mom to wash the dishes. Well you do have maids, but they do not stay the night at home. The maids are only here from morning to noon, dinner must be taken care by your mom and you.

“(Y/n), for the sake of god. Stop acting foolish. I’ve seen you sneaking around to extra science classes at school, instead of going to the socialite gathering I signed you up for.” She said in disappointment.

You sigh, well in your private school for elites there is a silly community where the rich gathers and make bonds, attend weekend parties or social events, and if you’re lucky win one of their hearts and got asked a hand for marriage.

“It’s just a science club, they’re fun and I only go there once a week.” You lie, you go there every Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and just pop into the community once in a month.

Your mother chuckles, “You think I am stupid? I know you do not attend the socialite gathering, you always go home to finish a lab report. I mean you being in your room, without any loud voice of the TV nor any sound of you calling anyone means you either read or do something. You don’t read because your books are in the library.”

You curse in your heart, she really is as smart as Sherlock, why can’t she allow you to use your similarly brilliant brain to study rather than prepare to be a good wife.

“I am texting the school’s principal to ban you from that science club, you must attend the community’s events. Also, stop seeing that man from your science club, Huang? Huang Renjun is it? He isn’t as noble as the others, instead I suggest you learn more about that son of NA CORPS, Jaemin.” she wipes her wet hands on the towel and leaves you speechless.

You stand in front of the sink, perplexed that your mother knows everything about your secret. More surprisingly she knows Renjun, now who is spilling the secret here?

You go up to your room and sit on your bed. Your eyes drift to the duffel bag you’ve prepared this week. Your phone rings and you pick it up with a big grin.

“Renjun-a!” you greet him as you fling yourself to the big soft mattress in your lavender room.

There is a soft giggle from the other end, “Hey there princess,” he greets. You blush at the nickname, Renjun has been your best friend since the first day of school. You share a table with him and he shares the same timetable as yours. He is a fun guy with angelic features, blonde hair, and beautiful voice. Both of you love nature and has been in the science club and scout team for three years. This Friday there is a scout camp going on until Sunday and Renjun had helped you sign up for it, since your mother would maybe die if she knows her daughter is not only a science club member but also a scout girl.

“So, are you packed up for Friday?” he asks just in case you need help from him to get supplies.

You shake your head, “No need. Mom actually thought I am going to stay over at Victoria’s house. Well she promised she won’t spill any tea and lie for me as I promise her Jeno’s number.”

Renjun giggles, he knows you will find a way and he has no doubt that 97% of them always work.

“Great then, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night luv, take care!” Renjun sends a flying kiss through the phone and you blush at this. He is not your boyfriend, but look at how comfortable he is to flirt around with you.

“Bye bye Injunie,” you squeak and close your phone right in time when the door opens and a wild Jeno appears.

“You’re staying in Victoria’s house?” he asks, apparently your mother told him not to pick you up tomorrow because you’re staying over.

You pull him into your side and glance on the door. “Shh, I lied. Keep it a secret, I’ll be in the mountain tomorrow. So, if there is no signal or bad reception.. please cover up for me.”

Jeno shakes his head, “Cover up? I need to lie again?”

You plead him with your puppy eyes he always lose to, “I’ll accompany you to the cat café next month for the whole week.”

He smiles “Nice, don’t worry I’ll pretend I know what you’re doing.”

You grin “Oh please work on the lie with Victoria, so if mom cross checks you two won’t be caught lying. I have put her name under your contact list.”

Jeno looks surprised, but just shakes his head. “Come here,” He pulls you into his arms and hugs you.

You breathe in and relax your shoulder, “I am sorry for what mom always do to you. I’ll try to talk with her when you’re away. Just take good care of yourself and have fun okay!” he ruffles your hair and kisses your forehead.

“Thank you hyung,” you whisper and detach yourself from him.

The next day, you’re very excited to finally leave behind your problems with mom and just enjoy your freedom in the camping grounds. It’s just near the mountain and the track is not hard. You and Renjun are a part of the officer team, considering the fact that both of you are senior here.

“Need help pitching that tent?” Renjun pops up behind you and you shake your head, “Nah, I’m good, almost done. Why don’t you help the juniors?” you point your chin at a group of struggling kids, well it is not surprising some of them are never raised this way but they have to choose one activity outside subject and the scout activity is always the one with least student. So, those who are late in registering will end up here.

You finish setting up your tent, help the others too and go with the activities. There’s nothing much to do, you just have to prepare dinner with Renjun while the other instructors will lead the troop to explore the areas and learn basic nature things.

You admit Renjun cooks better than you, although his cooking skills are just to the point where it is edible, yours are worse.

“How is this?” Renjun brings a spoonful of the red kimchi stew he is making, and you take a taste test.

Your eyes lighten up, “Hm this is way better than what you always make for me.” He sends you a death glare, but you’re used to it. “Hey at least I am saying something good.” You bump his shoulder and his smile relights.

“Look at the cute couple here, what are you two making this time?” A familiar mischievous voice makes the two of you turn your heads to sigh at the man coming to the cooking area.

“Haechan,” you sigh, “We’re not a couple and what are you doing here? What’s your duty?” you ask as you continue helping Renjun cuts up tofu and onions. Haechan is the most annoying yet dearest friend of yours.

“I am the guarding team, my job is basically in the night with Mark. Don’t worry, I won’t bother you two if you’re going to spend a time alone in the woods.” He winks and you throw him a spoon, that missed but he’s happily running away. Renjun stays quiet somehow after Haechan’s appearance but you don’t really take matter of it. He’s always quiet when he’s focused.

Dinner went amazingly well, all of the tired students enjoy Renjun’s kimchi stew and you’re glad you don’t have to wash the dishes, the students played a game and losing team has to clean up.

The night activity too was like the usual one, where we sit around the bon fire and tell stories. It is dark and now you’re alone with Renjun left by your side. He grabs a guitar someone brought and after taking glance around, Renjun picks the strings and start playing a piece of melody. You lean into his shoulder, something you’ve always done to him and watch as the starry night move above you.

“That is beautiful but why are you playing such a sad song?” you ask Renjun after the pretty angel plucks his last string. You cannot lie listening to a sad song in the night alone with Renjun hurts so much. You suddenly remember the small quarrel with your mom and you feel like you have to tell him this.

“Injun-a, do you know that there’s a lot of thing I want to share with you but sometimes I can’t find the right time to say it.” You avert your gaze away from his soft eyes.

“First and foremost, I am sorry that…” your voice trails off but Renjun stays there to listen, “I am sorry I cannot fulfil our promise to leave for Japan together.” You sigh.

It’s a small promise you made with Renjun on your first month of friendship and since then both of you have been working hard to get good grades and prepare the requirements for entering the university.

Renjun did not look surprised, but he is the best man in covering his feelings. Unlike Renjun who can read you like an open book, you cannot read him at all. He just plays with his fingers and after a while looks into your eyes.

“(y/n), I know it’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself, besides we can still figure out a way to fulfil this dream of ours.” He calmly threads your hair.

You shake your head, “It won’t happen Renjun, mom looks final with her decision. I am so sorry you have to leave by yourself.”

The young man chuckles dryly, “If you’re not going, then I won’t too.”

You snap at him, “What do you mean? It is your dream too!”

He nods, “It is my dream, and yours too. Our promise is to achieve our dream together right? So if fate decides to leave one of us behind, screw it I’ll stay.”

You can no longer hold back the tears in your eyes, who are you to deserve him? He really is an angel in disguise, always putting your importance first before his.

“Don’t cry, I am not going anywhere if you’re not there.” Was his last promise before he engulfs you into his warm shoulder and hugs you as the last bits of fire flickers in the dark and went out.

It is dark now, with only the moon shining over both of your face. Your glazy eyes met his and without second thoughts, you bring your lips to seal his. When there is no sign of objections you hold it there, letting Renjun takes over instead. One of his arm makes his way to the nape of your neck, gently pressing your head closer to him so he can devour you. So this unexplainable emotions in your hearts can be set free.

It’s not passionate, it’s rushed, full of hurt emotion, and sadness. You feel pain as you try to remember just how soft his lips are, after this you may never see him again. Renjun finally lets go and under the moonlight you can see him wiping away a tear. Your heart cracks, “Injun-ie,” you bring your thumb to wipe his cheek, but he is faster to hold your wrist in the air.

Your face shows surprise, is he rejecting you? He didn’t wipe his tear. Instead, he asks you a question you never expect him to ask.

“Do you ever love me as someone more than a friend?” his sincere question laced with dreadful pain makes you close your eyes.

“I love you to the point that it hurts Renjun,” you reply in a heartbeat.

He closes his eyes and forces a sad smile, “Can you just once, tell me you love me?”

You want to ask him what he means by once? You’ll tell him over and over! But since you’re an open book to him, he answers you first before you can even gasp

“I know you’re forbidden to love me, I don’t want you to say that to me. It’s a sacred word prin- I mean (y/n). You should only say that to the person you truly love.” He looks down on his feet. Your heart burns when he refuses to even call you by his nickname.

He’s not dumb, he knows how this society of the rich works. It is always them choosing their daughter and son’s partner. He knows your mother doesn’t like him, merely because she never invites him to any of the tea party or dinner. The school knows that your family had made a promise to Jaemin’s family that if their children are of different gender, they will tie the bond. It’s just wonderful how the whole school, including Renjun, knows but not you.

Yes, you and Jaemin both know nothing. Both parents just try to make it look “natural” by sending their children to the same school, put them in the same group of community, and make them see each other as frequent as possible.

You stop crying and look into his eyes, “Renjun, you say I just have to say that word to the man I really love right?”

He nods, he knows he is dumb for saying that. He should’ve just asked you out to be his before you and Jaemin become a thing, but that will just hurt you and him. And having to hurt more is not something Renjun needs right at this moment.

“I love you Renjun,” you whisper sincerely. This may be the only chance you get to say it out loud to him. And the brilliant boy seizes his moment too, “I love you too, princess.”

You and Renjun stay together for a couple of minutes in silence. Because sometimes silence speaks louder, and emotions are conveyed better. You did not know where tomorrow will bring you, but at least you’re not regretting your decision tonight that being telling your true feelings to the person you love.

end.

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ thank you for the supports

77 notes · View notes

yukippe · 3 years

Text

wonder what she thinks of me

for @yuekiweek day 3: reunions | word count: 2.3k | read on ao3

“you need to buy your books suki!!” sokka lectures through the phone. last year suki didn’t buy the books for any of her classes and she was fine. she isn’t actually planning on buying books this year either, except now sokka’s roped her into coming to his book club and she can’t lie and say she doesn’t like to watch sokka rant about something dumb while enjoying the baked goods that sokka will have convinced his gran gran and his parents to make for them.

unfortunatley, this means suki has to brave the bookstore during some fancy author signing to try to buy the book sokka’s demanded everyone read for next week. he’s still talking through the phone, though suki’s mostly tuned him out. she’s normally much better at listening to sokka’s rants, but the bookstore is packed with awkward high school students and suki would rather not, at the moment. she slips around a table of overpriced waterbottles and planners and weaves past a random grandpiano over to one of the computers with the bookstore directory. “sokka,” suki asks as she almost trips over a four year old holding a picture book. “why did you have to send me to this bookstore at this time?”

there’s a huff on the other end of the line and suki sighs deeply, “suki, please you should be thankful! they’re running a special discount if you buy a tote bag to go with the book this weekend!!” well. okay, maybe suki collects tote bags and sokka is probably being a good friend. but suki hasn’t been to this store before, having not bothered with buying her textbooks last year and getting anything for fun as an ebook. but sokka believes in the experience of a physical copy or whatever, so tote bags and author signings it is.

suki puts her phone between her shoulder and ear as she sets her fingers onto the keyboard of the computer directory, “hey, what’s the name of the book again?”

“have you listened to anything i’ve ever said to you?” sokka asks her. suki can picture him in their apartment at his desk, doing something fancy with math as he coaches her through a bookstore, pinching the bridge of his nose out of frustration. suki doesn’t actually need him to tell her the name of the book, she just likes to rile him up sometimes. she types in the title. suki thanks him for his help, asks him if hes found his glasses yet (the same glasses she hid before she left) and hangs up with a smirk.

adaptation by malinda lo. there, young adult section. it’s supposedly sci fi thriller and sokka, though he lacks taste in most things, has always had solid book taste. suki looks around for the sign to section she needs and spots it, tucked behind a tech display and next to the little cafe. suki walks over, eager to grab her book and get out of the shop. she walks through the shelves searching for the author’s with the last name l. malinda lo. there, suki reaches out to pluck the book of the shelf, when the back of her hand brushes against someone else.

suki steps back, book in hand, to look at the girl next to her. she has brown hair in a pretty updo and really cute heart shaped beaded earrings. she looks familiar, but suki isn’t sure where she recognizes her from.

“hi,” the other girl says, her voice sounds like a princess. all bells and whistling wind.

“uh,” suki coughs, smiling crookedly and titling her head. “hi!”

the other girl giggles at her, but her smile is warm and suki finds herself settling. “i’m yue - so adaptation? what made you interested in it?”

“oh, my friend is hosting a book club and this is this months pick,” suki tells her. maybe she should have done a little more research on the book before she’d shown up. she hadn’t really pictured a bookstore as the spot to meet a cute girl.

“oh!” yue says, surprised. “i have the same one assigned for my book club. do you want to grab something to drink and let me tell you about it?”

“sure,” suki says, her smile growing even wider. “that sounds great”

yue winks at her as she grabs the same book of the shelf, “perfect, there’s this bubble tea place a block a way i want to show you.” yue turns on her heel, her hair falling onto her back as yue bounces in her steps. suki checks to make sure her flannel is neat and her docs are tied before hurrying after yue.

the two of them wait in line one behind the other at the register and yue flips through the display before the register of pins and pens and bookmarks. a rainbow lion turtle eraser set catches suki’s eye and she lifts it up to her face to look at it closer. it’s the type of thing aang would like, so suki puts it on top of her book when she gets to the register. after she picks out the simplest canvas tote bad (most of them have obnoxious book puns katara would make fun of her for months about) and pays, suki finds yue waiting by the door peeling a sticker off of a sticker sheet suki remembers seeing on the display.

“so,’ yue asks. “where do you want your sticker?”

suki blinks, “what?”

yue waves the - oh it’s a hello kitty sticker with fairy wings. suki blinks at it, “um. cute?” she gets a smile for her efforts and then yue leans in and grabs her wrist, turning suki’s hand around and carefully placing the sticker onto the back of suki’s right hand.

“so,” yue says, after failing once more to steal a drink of suki’s boba. her mouth is screwed up in a light pout, but it feels teasing. “do you go to ba sing se u?”

only a little while later, they are wandering to nowhere in particular, still holding hands. yue keeps trying to steal a sip of suki’s drink even though when suki ordered yue had made a face at the idea of coffee boba. yue’s own drink is sweet like her. strawberry, reportedly to match yue’s nails which are done up in a neat mimic of the fruit.

suki nods, squeezing yue’s hand and lifting her drink over her head, too high up for yue to reach, though that doesn’t stop yue from playfully batting at it. neither of them caring about what passerby might think as they wobble on the sidewalk smiling at each other full of silliness. “yeah, i’m majoring in gender and women's studies with a minor in literature and art.”

yue lights up, the way she’s done every time suki’s shared a fact with her. suki’s face feels flushed, yue makes her feel like she’s on her first date ever. “oh wow!” yue says. “i’m majoring in four nations politics with a minor in theology and spiritual studies but i would love to see what your classes must be like. i think i could be a student forever, you know?”

and then yue doesn’t let go of suki’s wrist. instead, she links their fingers together and suki watches their hands held together hang between them. she looks up and smiles at yue, stupidly happy for a moment. and really, suki doesn’t even know for sure if yue is into girls even if yue does seem to be flagging. for now, suki just lets yue tug her down the street as her phone buzzes in her new tote bag with texts from sokka she’ll ignore for now.

“hm, not really, i think one degree is enough for me. but academics are cute,” suki says, watching as yue swings their hands back and forth as they walk. they’re both absolutely terrible at walking together, suki’s noticed. they can’t seem to walk in a straight line and suki’s almost fallen off the sidewalk twice already. it’s nice. suki’s finding that yue makes her comfortable everywhere.

“oh?” yue asks, her eyes twinkling. “does that mean you think i’m cute, suki?”

“hmmm,” suki teases out, a trace of laughter in her voice as yue finally manages to dart forward to steal her drink, finally realizing her success would be increased if she let go of suki’s hand. suki doesn’t even mind that much, wow. “well,” suki settles, after a moment of false consideration. “yeah, i think you’re pretty cute.”

yue winks at her, the same way she did in the bookstore, and takes a sip of suki’s bubble tea. then she makes a completely disgusted expression shoving suki’s drink back at her. “suki! that’s so gross, tui and la, how do you drink that?”

suki can’t help the laugh that spills out of her as yue sticks her tongue out and crosses her eyes, making a fuss that shouldn’t be as sweet as it is. well, suki’s always been a sucker for clowns. suki reaches out and links their hands back together and they both sip at their drink as they seem to stop together at the bus.

they make shy eye contact as a bus comes up to the stop. “so,” yue says. “i’ve got to go, i’m meeting up with a friend. but this was really fun, right?”

suki smiles, “yeah, it was really fun.”

“that’s great! i really liked talking with you!” yue informs her. then, yue leans forward and kisses suki’s cheek before turning around, and her earrings sparkle in the sunlight as she jumps onto the bus right before the bus doors close and it pulls away with the rest of the flow of traffic. suki blinks and watches it go, still feeling the soft touch of yue’s lips on her cheek.

when suki pulls her phone out of her bag to video call sokka he immediately points out the lipstick mark on her cheek and she resolves not to give him any details, no matter how much he pesters her

two weeks later, after bemoaning to ty lee about how she was dumb and completley forgot to ask the cute girl she met at the book store for her number, she sees yue again. at sokka’s book club.

the members of the secret book club hadn’t been a surprise for the most part, consisting of sokka (obviously), aang (one of sokka’s only friends who wasn’t a gay girl), azula, mai, ty lee and suki (the gay girls sokka was friends with). sokka’s parents, hakoda, kya and bato, had baked with sokka all last night and prepared a whole table full of snacks that sokka had made her haul over to their apartment. suki thinks it’s a ridiculous amount of food for their handful of friends, and then she and sokka ate a good section of it before their friends even show up.

mai, sokka and azula are arguing over the finer points of the book already even though the meeting has yet to officially start. sokka and azula, to be fair, have actual opinions that they are fiercly defending from their spots on the floor as mai causes problems on purpose on the couch she and ty lee stole as soon as they stepped through the front door.

there was only one person that had yet to arrive, and apparently only aang had met her before. azula had raised an eyebrow at the pronoun and asked sokka if he’d made friends with another gay girl. the answer had been yes, and suki who was looking for another chance at talking to a cute gay girl after flopping earlier in the month and failing at getting yue’s number or social media or anything, was looking forward to meeting the newest cute gay girl sokka was friends with.

sokka had impeccable taste in cute gay girls (besides azula). so really, maybe suki shouldn’t have been so surprised to answer the door when the bell rang to find yue holding a tray of pastries.

yue stands out in the hallway with its broken light, looking as pretty as the moon in the sky. her face breaks into a smile at the sight of suki, and suki’s sure her expression matches. “suki?!” yue asks. “wow, small world huh?”

suki nods back, her cheeks starting to hurt with how big she was beaming. “so,” suki says. “do you think i could make up for last week and get your number?”

laughter comes from behind suki, and suki knows her friends are probably making fun of them right now, but she’s too interested in yue’s answer to pay any attention.

yue rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t stop smiling, “of course suki, now do you want to help me bring these in so i can program it into your phone? no excuses not to call me this time.”

“don’t worry,” suki says as she takes the sweets from yue. “i’ll be sure to blow your phone up more than sokka when he’s trying to prove a point.”

she’s rewarded with another kiss to her cheek (and teasing from her friends at another lipstick stain) and yue’s number in her phone saved as yue🌙💖😘.

yue, through suki’s phone, texts something to herself and suki leans over yue’s shoulder to see what it is.

omg yue you’re so hot please go out with me <3

suki bumps yue’s shoulder as best as she can with her hands full and raises an eyebrow. “so, yue?” suki asks. “will you go out with me?”

yue giggles, her lipgloss sparkles and suki wonders what it tastes like, “of course, suki.”

a few seconds later, suki has her question answered and can confidently report that yue’s lipgloss tastes like mango.

suki passes the tray off to sokka, who was helpfully waiting right behind her with the tried familiar expression of accidentally setting up his exes. then, suki tugs yue into the loveseat, kicking out aang who had been sprawled across it.

book club is much more fun than suki was expecting, though almost all things are improved, suki finds, when she’s hanging out with her friends and eating sweets and practically sitting in the girl she likes lap while yue braids her hair and teases sokka with her. yue winks at her as aang and ty lee stop azula and sokka from getting into a fistfight with mai and sticks another hello kitty sticker onto her cheek. suki leans over and kisses the same spot on yue. fair is fair after all.

#atla #yueki #yue #suki #yuekiweek #r.txt #rey's writering #i love how i post before im finished bc im impatient and then i edit for days/j ;_; /

53 notes · View notes

thetypedwriter · 4 years

Text

Midnight Sun Book Review

Midnight Sun Book Review by Stephenie Meyer

Oh my god, you guys.

Just. Oh. My. God.

This book took ten years off of my life.

As a heavy reminder, these book reviews are entirely subjective and my very personal opinion. I don’t need the hoards of Twihards coming after me with pitchforks and pretend fangs from Party City because I didn’t fall head-over-heels with this canon spinoff like my fourteen-year-old self would have.

With that measly disclaimer out of the way, let’s move onto the actual book review. If you haven’t heard of Midnight Sun or don’t know what it is, then I don’t know what to tell you except that you avoided 600 plus pages of stream of conscious ranting.

For those of you that would like to be enlightened, Midnight Sun is the retelling of the infamous Twilight book-yes, that Twilight, Robert Pattinson as Edward Cullen Twilight, complete with vampires, not so-stellar acting, and the more than notorious forest scene of Edward demanding she say… “vampire!” Gasp.

But no really, like most women in my now mid-20’s, as a teenager, I was obsessed with the Twilight saga and everything it had to offer, especially the dreamy, chivalrous, too good to be true Edward Cullen (fuck Jacob).

I voraciously devoured the books while I was in middle school, attended the midnight book premier for Breaking Dawn, and stayed up way too late for each and every movie screening that followed, a loyal fan to the end. To give you some perspective, I even joined the Twilight club my freshman year of high school.

Yes, if you were wondering, I was indeed that cool.

I was obsessed and in love and outside of Harry Potter, it’s still one of the few book fandoms and series that I was truly enveloped and consumed by. Whether that was due to my age, the experience of the fandom, the cultural phenomena that was following the movies and new releases, or for other reasons, it was an experience I look back on now with simultaneous fondness and slight embarrassment.

I wasn’t embarrassed by my involvement or my experience in the fandom, like many other people, I made great friends through Twilight (including my best friend, whom I met in college when we mutually bonded over our love of Twilight), read countless fanfiction that, to this day, I still remember and cherish with my heart, and it was one of the series that cemented my love of reading and book culture as a whole for me.

However, like everyone else, I inevitably grew up, matured, and my reading tastes changed and became more refined. As an avid re-reader of books, I have tried going back to re-read the Twilight saga multiple times...

...and failed.

The books had simply lost their magic for me.

The story seemed dull and nonsensical, Bella had become the epitome of a Mary Sue, the writing was now apparently mediocre, and Breaking Dawn’s lackluster climax angered me to the point of speechlessness (it still does).

So, I gave up re-reading the series and while I deemed that it was perhaps not as wonderful and life-changing as it had been for 8th grade Melissa, I still appreciated what it had done for me personally and the experiences that I had gained through the books.

Speaking of 8th grade Melissa, the original Midnight Sun, that being twelve chapters of the original manuscript that had been leaked back in 2008, had been put up on Stephenie Meyer’s website for all to enjoy.

Like the good, whipped fangirl I was, I devoured all 12 chapters with ease and lamented the loss of never getting more than that snapshot of Edward’s thoughts and musings.

Now, twelve years later, the full book has been written, published, and released to the delight and downright shock to many age-old Twilight fans that had believed that series to be dead and buried, myself included.

So, when the book came out this August, I swallowed my trepidation, knowing that my love for the characters was now long gone, but I believed that the sentimentality of 8th grade Melissa’s obsession would long linger, making this a pleasant blast from the past to lift my mood.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case.

Now, that I’ve told you my whole life story in an effort to explain why I have the feelings I do and to justify that I’m not just being negative for the sake of being negative, this book did not hold up to any of my expectations.

One, it was so freaking long.

Holy shit, was this book long.

As I have said countless times on this blog, I like big books (and I cannot lie). It’s the best feeling in the world when you get into a story and you realize that you have many days ahead of you of being engulfed within this new world that you’ve fallen head-over-heels for.

It’s the opposite, sinking feeling of dread when you feel like you’ve been reading the book for weeks and are getting nothing out of it.

Midnight Sun was a lot like that.

It was too long to be good, especially considering the length was not generally driven by plot, but instead driven by Edward thinking of every fucking thing to the nth degree and driving me crazy in the process.

Homeboy needs to take a chill pill, he overstresses, overthinks, and overanalyzes everything to the point of irritation as a reader.

Meyer’s editor really needed to step in and say, “Hey, Stephenie...is all of this really necessary?” and then proceed to cut out at least 300 pages of nonsense.

But that didn’t happen, probably because first and foremost, the book was already going to sell no matter what changes or edits were made, and this seemed like a book more for Stephenie than anyone else.

It was very much stream of consciousness like I’ve already said, a style of writing defined as a literary style in which a character's thoughts, feelings, and reactions are depicted in a continuous flow uninterrupted by objective description or conventional dialogue.

It wasn’t on the level of James Joyce’s Ulysses or other notable works, but damn was it close.

This writing style I found abhorrently repetitive and exceptionally dull.

Perhaps my fourteen-year-old self would have felt differently and would have sucked up anything about Edward Cullen eagerly considering he was the fictional love of my life.

Or perhaps this book would have made me go running and screaming in the opposite direction as Edward is...kind of awful?

One positive thing I can say about this book is that it paints Bella Swan in a very rosy light, which was actually very refreshing. One of the most famous criticisms that Meyer’s has received is Bella’s lack of character, development, and attributes.

Seeing Bella from Edward’s perspective instead of vice-versa actually showed how kind, thoughtful, and selfless she is, all things that I had never really picked up on before.

I still find her inexcusably dumb sometimes, but much of time during this book, Bella was actually far favorable to Edward or any other character, a blasphemous statement of irony if I had ever heard one.

The payoff, however, is Edward’s reveal as not chivalrous, not gentlemanly, and not as wonderful as I remember. He’s arrogant, selfish, obsessive, and honestly? Downright creepy.

The stalking reaches new levels of not okay, often with him trying to justify his less than criminal activities with the notion of her “safety” as the priority, which I found complete bullshit.

I found Edward domineering, cold, aggravating, and lackluster, statements which would literally have made my old self sob, which I honestly did when Edward left in New Moon.

I used to be an avid Jacob hater and lover of Edward to the extreme back in the day. Now, I would weep for joy if he left, root for Jacob all the way, and hope that the horrible name of Renesmee never needed to come to fruition in the first place.

Oh, how the turns have tabled.

Other than the atrocious length, my other large criticism came in the form of well...the book was naturally boring in my opinion. Meyer tries to create tension and moments of suspense, but...we already know what happens.

We know the next few years actually. We know they get married, have a baby, and Bella gets turned into a vampire. So all moments of tension and suspense are unceremoniously tossed out the window.

You might say, typedwriter, that’s unfair! We didn’t read this for the tension and suspenseful plot that we already know! We read this to get new information and insight into the Cullens and Edward especially. What do the Cullens do at home? How do they interact? What does this juicy insider insight look like?

Well, I still don’t know because we hardly saw any of it.

I was the most curious about the Cullens as a family unit and more information into how they functioned, interacted, and cohabited. I even wrote a fanfiction back in the day about what freaking Esme did home alone because I was so intrigued by the idea, but nope!

Edward was always stalking Bella 24/7 so almost no new information was gleaned about the Cullens, sucks for you.

There would be little nuggets here and there, little bouts of cool information (Apparently Esme just stays home all day every day doing….nothing?), but not nearly enough to justify a 600+ page book of a recycled plot that we were already familiar with.

I needed more from this book, craved all the little moments in between, and it was a letdown to the most extreme proportions.

Recommendation: I didn’t really enjoy this read despite my past involvement with the series, my lingering fondness for the movies on a cold, rainy day, and the still sporadic delves into Twilight fanfiction that maintains its reputation of quality and characters.

Twilight will always have a special place in my heart for what it did for me and the people it brought into my life, but I wish I had remembered Midnight Sun as the 12 chapters I read on Stephenie Meyer’s website when I was fourteen and infatuated instead of 26 and uninterested and unforgiving.

Score: 4/10

#midnight sun #stephenie meyer #twilight #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn #twihard #book blog #book review #Book Recommendations #YA Books #YA Book Review #edward cullen #bella swan #fanfiction #book blogger #book photography #book analysis #book aesthetic

101 notes · View notes

sweetsoundsofignorance · 3 years

Note

Currently running around bugging people and I want to know your thoughts on this: if you had full creative control of the show, how would you run season 5? You can pick and choose whatever leaks you want to include.

Thank you for the ask! 💕 A very fun exercise, and there has been some excellent speculation from the fandom. I’ve enjoyed reading everyone’s takes on it that I’m almost inclined to create bingo cards out of everyone’s nuttier speculations and play Riverdale batshit bingo for the season, a la Cabin the Woods.

I should say Riverdale speculation and leaks can leave me feeling overwhelmed at times, so I drift in and out when they are circling. Therefore, this rant is limited to the leaks/speculation/trailer gifs I have seen or heard about because I have no self-control. I’ve also not seen 4x17 or 4x18 (though I feel like I have through a mishmash of so many GIFs and recaps and speculations). In my mind, 4x17 is just *insert gif of Betty standing in the middle of the woods holding a bloody rock* Atm, no one knows how we got there.

Given the beginning of season five will be the tail-end of season four, perhaps start there? This got away from me, so it’s under the cut.

I imagine they will close four with the reveal of the voyeur and Chic/Charles plotline (with Riverdale you never know where they’re going to be selectively sloppy). In that case, I have fully adopted the following speculation/serenity prayer: see @sullypants theory here. It’s the perfect level of batshit Riverdale and it’s consistent with the hypnosis (cannot keep a straight face just typing it) plotline. I know, consistent and Riverdale should never be in the same sentence without some negative participle in between. So, that “cleans up” the Bughead infidelity but leaves Varchie in the weeds (sigh). It would ex out Charles/Chic. The fallout would break up Falice, possibly.

FP gets busted for all the shady shit he’s done as sheriff and has to flee the country, so hi, Canada, but no wrestle mania with the grizzly bears this time. Or he gets eaten by a bear. I don’t care.

Veronica gains some self-agency and leaves for college. Though I want her to get out from under her father, loyalty to family is so engrained with the Lodges that I don’t see it happening. Maybe we’ll get lucky and Hiram’s terminal illness kills him. If Toni and Cheryl break up, Cheronica may happen through their rum business, which takes off. I would not be remiss if Cheryl and Veroncia were endgame, but I know it won’t shake out like that, so. Also, if it is hypnosis, I hope Veronica and Betty would still be friends long-distance.

Toni takes the reins for the Southside, ends the rampant Serpent misogyny, actually makes the neighborhood a safe space for the residents, and works to end the cycle of poverty. She manages the White Wyrm, and yes, there are still strippers because nothing wrong with that, but the Serpent Dance is barely a footnote. I am curious if they will shoot around Vanessa’s pregnancy, but if they incorporate it into the show, I would not be against Cheryl and Toni having a child together. If they did not break up.

For Jughead, he got his MFA at Iowa, but in true millennial fashion, never made it past that (for a great fic on the plight of the underemployed over-educated millennial see @imreallyloveleee head underwater). He might have written a first novel that was semi-popular, received a few good reviews but overall lambasted by the bigger names. Head canon is that it becomes a cult classic in later years, perhaps a screenplay. Hard forever no to him being an alcoholic, but I can see some Sideways-level angst dealing with trying to get over writer’s block (plus anxiety block based on the mediocre success of his first) for his next novel and some bitterness about his first novel, which may be the driving wedge between Jughead and whoever ends up being his SO in this scenario.

Jughead as an English teacher gels for me. I’ve written him as an English teacher. I like reading him as an English Teacher (*cough* *cough* @geekspen). Though they flopped with the Jug and Jellybean relationship in season four, I always imagined Jughead from season one and that brief moment in season three as a very present and considerate big brother type. Based on those brief interactions we have gotten, I would believe Jughead is good with kids, especially teenagers. He’s had experience dealing with dumbass adolescents, i.e. the Serpents, and (kind of) keeping them in line, mainly by out-extra-ing the morons (see declaring himself gamemaster by ordering Cheryl to shoot an arrow through a can on his head). I see him being that curmudgeonly teacher that gets along with those grab-bag students on the edge of committing a crime out of sheer boredom who linger in their English teacher’s classrooms during lunch and after school (that’s how we started our creative writing club in high school), and that leads me to a head-canon about him starting, yes, a creative writing club or running the Blue and Gold. I love full-circle shit like that. I think he would be an objectively bad teacher but a very good one in the context of Riverdale, if that makes sense.

Bughead long distance did not pan out, and Betty being Betty immersed herself in her career – degree in criminal psychology, BSU at the FBI, the whole shebang. Reports of a giant man with red eyes and wings seen in the vicinity of places where people are disappearing. FBI!Betty investigates these at her alma mater until one happens in Riverdale, which drags her investigation thattaway.

Veronica is unhappy with her SO for whatever reason (not exactly jazzed about her being with a douche but ok). She is successful but wistful. Her father dies. She uses it as an excuse to break up with her SO and return to Riverdale to help her mother manage the estate. Because Veronica is successful in her own right, most of the estate goes to her mother and Hermosa. She returns to Pop’s one night for nostalgia’s sake. She signed the diner back over to Tate years ago.

Jughead is there struggling to write after a fight with his SO.

Side note: I don’t like love triangles. Even less, I don’t like setups for more infidelity, even if it would lead to my ship ending up together. I understand that is often the reality (I’ve witnessed it), but I think it is bad writing. So, for any of the core four’s respective SOs, please no cheating on them. Break it off. Learn from your mistakes. Therefore, Jughead soon breaks up with his SO after meeting Veronica in Pop’s.

Veronica sits with him. Cue some reminiscing. Perhaps the mystery starts in the speakeasy, of which Veronica is still the partial owner. This connects Betty and Veronica down the road. Because Jughead witnessed it, Betty crosses paths with him.

Initially, Betty is reticent to let Jughead get involved with her investigation. However, Jughead is just as obsessed with the mystery (because he’s him), so they keep running into each other. He gets in the way a few times (more tension). Eventually, Jughead ends up discovering some important piece of evidence that Betty needs, so she gives in. Before he joins her investigation, he may be keeping his own personal murder board in the Blue and Gold at school after hours… Lots of sexual tension. I’d even be down for friends with benefits because *insert gif of Donna accusing Betty of being addicted to Jug’s vitamin D*. But Betty knows she isn’t going to stay in Riverdale and they’ve already tried and failed long-distance, so she keeps putting on the brakes. Jughead starts to get his writing mojo back, too, because I will never not believe Betty is his muse.

Archie. Oh Archie. Deployed overseas for a time, though I cannot stand the idea of giving this kid anymore PTSD. He returns, and for a while, spends most of his time alone at the old gym and in the Andrews home. His old army buddy shows up out of work. He works with Toni to create a real community center for the Southside youth because I enjoyed that poorly executed plotline in season four. This also gives his army buddy a job. His army buddy is from New Haven, so he ends up being a Mothman suspect, given it started at Betty’s alma mater.

Through his work with Toni, he gets dragged into Jughead’s orbit. Maybe they both try to reactivate the community center’s big brother program together. It’s just very difficult for me to imagine Jughead accepting/forgiving Archie, and though I cannot imagine how they would resolve it, I would like to see it.

#riverdale speculation #plot-hole ridden thoughts #arsenicpanda #asks

19 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Not Nineteen Forever (17) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex) - Ortega

a/n: hey angels! thank u for ur patience, here is yet another chapter of the hellscape that is n19f. as i said on my blog, u will either love this chapter or hate it. either way let me know what u think!! this is a big chunky one at 13k (ik i’m treating u during this quarantine) so grab ur snacks and settle in. lots of love, byeee!

trigger warning: a little light drinking xo

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: Scarlet celebrated her birthday by helping Nina win back Monet, a surprise party organised by her girlfriend, and a suspiciously civil Brooke and Vanjie.

this chapter: from one birthday to another, the gang heads out to the country to celebrate Brooke and Akeria’s 22nd. everyone seems back on good terms, but will the combination of hide and seek, truth or dare, a hot tub and of course a lil bit of alcohol change anything?

***

“Holiday!...da-da-da-dum-dum-daaa, Celebrate!”

Brooke rolled her eyes, unable to help herself laughing as Nina rolled her suitcase towards Monet’s car. “It’s hardly a holiday, is it, girl? Overnighter in an airbnb in the middle of buttfuck nowhere?”

“Listen, I’ll take what I can get, thank you very much,” Nina raised her eyebrows, as Monet lifted the door of the boot up and Nina heaved her case inside.

“Oh, what a compliment,” Monet quipped from beside her, Brooke making a sick noise as Nina slid her arms around her girlfriend’s waist and gave her a squeeze.

“Not with girlfriends, obviously. You’re a Tesco Finest girlfriend. Not a smartprice girlfriend,” Nina explained, Monet smiling proudly and nuzzling their noses together. Brooke already wanted to vomit and she wasn’t even car sick yet.

“Pack it in, bitches, or Monet’s uninvited,” she deadpanned, pushing herself off the wall she was currently leaning against and looking up at her bedroom window, ignoring the girls’ shouts of indignation. “Right, have you got everything, yeah?”

“Have you seen the size of this bitch’s suitcase? I think she has literally managed to pack your kitchen sink,” Monet cocked an eyebrow at Nina, who elbowed her in the ribs. Nina produced her phone from the pocket of her dungaree dress.

“Hey Google, can you divorce your girlfriend?” she asked into the speaker, Monet howling a laugh and shoving her.

“Seriously, guys, I haven’t packed enough anti-sickness tablets for this,” Brooke said dryly, making her way to the passenger door.

“Oh, are you planning on recreating the great rail replacement bus fiasco of ‘18?” came a voice, Brooke turning round and narrowing her eyes at her smug flatmate, emerging through the door with her girlfriend and a small holdall bag.

“I was sat hungover opposite the toilet on a three hour coach journey, what the hell else was I expected to do?” Brooke defended herself. Yvie sat down on the wall outside their building, Scarlet joining her.

“Hmm, all I’ll say, Monet, is that I hope you have at least three empty plastic bags in the back seat with her,” she advised smugly, Brooke wishing she was still leaning against the wall so she could shove her off it.

“When is Plastique coming for you guys? Can I arrange for you to be sitting in the middle of the road when she drives up it?”

“Hey, what the fuck did I say?!” Scarlet yelped, outraged.

“You’re a bystander, Scarlet, and a bystander is worse than a bully,” Nina remarked sagely, Monet nodding along in support.

“Besides, I’m allowed to bully Brooke. It’s part of the lease,” Yvie shrugged, fixing the huge round sunglasses that had been on the top of her head and positioning them so they were right at the bridge of her nose. The March sunshine was welcome; it made Brooke feel happy, optimistic of things to come. Even the small scrub of grass out the front of their stairwell had bright purple, yellow and white bulbs poking through it, bringing a defiant sense of beauty to their surroundings. Brooke had been so pleased with the weather when she’d opened her curtains that morning that she’d packed a bunch of clothes she usually reserved for the summer. It felt odd wearing her denim skirt without the black tights she’d clad herself in for the past three months, but it was a welcome feeling. Yvie hadn’t really seemed to get the Summery memo other than her sunglasses- a huge knitted jumper covered in holes hung off her skinny frame and a pair of thick exercise leggings kept her legs warm.

“You couldn’t spruce yourself up a bit for my birthday, bitch? I feel like any minute now you’re going to start dancing around the street moulting straw singing about how you desperately want a brain,” Brooke smirked, Yvie simpering a fake smile and giving her the finger in response.

“It’s only fifteen degrees, Brooke, it’s hardly time to crack out the Kopparberg and blast T Shirt Weather yet,” Scarlet laughed. It was a bit hypocritical, Brooke thought as she looked Scarlet’s outfit up and down- a floaty, lacey dress and a pair of white Adidas- but of course she would defend her girlfriend. It wasn’t actually fair, contemplated Brooke. Scarlet and Yvie would always team up, so would Monet and Nina. Brooke had to fight all her battles herself.

“Besides, your birthday is over! Move on, hoe,” Yvie smiled, running forward and shaking Brooke’s shoulders relentlessly as the other girls laughed uproariously in the background. Brooke laughed and batted her away, knowing she was just joking. As she shoved her friend off of her, a familiar grey Audi drove up their street and pulled in behind Monet’s car. Plastique gave her horn a little beep, waving and rolling down her window.

“Let’s ride, bitches! I’m so ready for this weekend,” she squealed, as Yvie and Scarlet rushed to shove their bags in the boot of her car.

“I think I’ve been ready since we booked it,” Nina sighed, stretching. “Right, let’s go, girls! Dun-duun-da-na-na-dun dun.”

As Nina continued singing Shania Twain and hopped in the passenger seat of Monet’s car, Brooke passed by Plastique’s window and gave her hand a squeeze. “You know how to get there, yeah?”

“Up the motorway then off at junction 4 and then just follow all the signs for the B road. We good,” she nodded, then gave a laugh. “Kiki’ll probably end up in France somehow, you know what her sense of direction is like.”

“Yeah, but she’s got Silky and Vanj to direct her. She’ll be fine,” Brooke shrugged, thumping on Plastique’s door and making for the other car. “Right, see you ladies at the airbnb!”

Monet blasted her horn once, twice, three times as Brooke dashed into the back seat and buckled up. As Nina connected her phone to the aux cord and started blasting typically Nina-ish cheesy music, Brooke felt an excited little smile creep up on her face, slapping her hands against her thighs to the beat. The past almost-a-month had gone by quickly, and Brooke and Akeria’s shared birthday trip away had arrived before Brooke had known it. It had been booked on a whim, an excited message from Akeria on the group chat about a potential birthday night out had grown arms and legs until suddenly the girls were all transferring her money for a night in the country to jointly celebrate her and Brooke’s birthdays. They had turned 22 within ten days of each other, and the girls had all decided that the amount of money they would have spent on two big nights out- Ubers, big bottles of vodka for pres, club entry, club drinks and cheesy chips at the end of the night- probably equated to the same, if not more, than the amount they would drop on a boujie house in the country. The house they had booked was huge- five big bedrooms with floor to ceiling windows, a lounge straight out of a murder mystery drama with plush sofas, towering bookshelves and a massive roaring fire, a kitchen with a table big enough to fit them all round and an aga with what seemed to be a thousand burners- though whether anyone would know how to work the damn thing was anyone’s guess, Brooke thought with a snort. The icing on the cake of the whole place, though, was a huge section of outdoor decking with a hot tub set in the middle of it. To most of the girls it would be like living somebody else’s life for the weekend, but, Brooke thought mischievously, to Plastique it would probably seem the same as a weekend at home.

Brooke was glad they could all do something like this, go away together after what had happened. She didn’t really know what had happened to Vanessa to make her warm up to her so unexpectedly. It had all started when they were preparing for Scarlet’s birthday surprise; Brooke remembered how hard her heart had been beating that morning as she’d known it was the first time she’d be properly seeing Vanessa since they broke up, having to wipe her sweaty palms on her jeans as the door to the kitchen had opened and Vanessa, Akeria and Silky had walked in. Akeria and Silky, to their credit, had been fine and normal with Brooke, despite the amount of dragging through the mud they had probably done to her name when they’d heard the news of her and Vanessa’s breakup. Vanessa, (understandably, thought Brooke) had hugged Yvie, Plastique and Nina, but not Brooke, the obviousness of the action lost in the frenetic melee of the girls seeing each other all at once. Brooke had preferred that, though. She wouldn’t have wanted the awkwardness of reminding herself how perfectly her arms seemed to fit around Vanessa, the brief scent of the Aussie shampoo she used in her hair, her head against her chest even for just the tiniest second.

After that, Vanessa had started with the digs. Brooke had thought she’d had malicious intent at first, until she got bored and decided to fire back.

(Yvie’s voice had yelled from the hallway. “Who’s made the cupcakes yet? Anyone?”

“Well if it’s Brooke, we all dyin’ tonight.”

“At least I can make something! How much do you drop on Deliveroo in a month, like, half your student loan?”)

With each verbal sparring match, Brooke had watched as the small, sardonic snorts Vanessa had given evolved into a full-blown beaming smile, the kind she always used to shoot Brooke’s way with the perfect white teeth and the tiny dimple and the little blush that hit her cheeks. It was almost painful knowing that Brooke had given up that smile. And that had been the moment. The moment that Brooke had finally admitted to herself what she’d been wanting to deny all this time- she deeply wished she hadn’t ended things with Vanessa, that she’d fought through the ick and given it at least more of a shot than she had. Now Vanessa had moved on and she was seeing someone else and she was happy. Happy without Brooke. Why had Brooke broken up with her so quickly?

She was an idiot.

“She was an idiot.”

Brooke snapped out of her trance, blinking and trying to figure out how Monet had managed to get inside her head. “What?”

“That woman. Blue car. Completely cut me off,” Monet rolled her eyes, frowning as she inched forward in the traffic until she was almost bumper to bumper with the car in question.

“Oh M'net, don’t start a fight,” Nina sighed, resting her knees against the glovebox.

“I’m not! I’m just letting a bitch know that her misconduct was noted,” Monet growled.

“Her misconduct was noted? God, you’re such a teacher,” Nina laughed, a big chuckle with loads of heart that made Brooke smile.

“Hey, so are you!”

“Stop fucking bickering or I will take your vocal cords and strangle you with them!” Brooke cried, tiring quickly. She watched Monet smirk in the rear view mirror.

“It’s alright, Neens. Just because Brooke’s jealous of happy couples and regrets breaking it off with Vanjie-”

“Wait what? I don’t…oh, Nina, for fuck’s sake! I told you not to tell anyone!” Brooke snapped, training accusatory eyes on her friend. After Scarlet’s birthday, she’d told Nina what she’d told Yvie, just in a little more detail, and she’d been more sympathetic than her other flatmate, making her tea and nodding understandingly as Brooke vented at her. Nina was usually good with secrets, a reliable and trustworthy friend. Brooke couldn’t understand why she would-

“Ahahaha!!! BITCH! You just totally exposed yourself! Oh my God!!” Monet screeched in time with her tyres, thumping her hand against the steering wheel. Brooke was confused, her heart still thudding. “Nina ain’t told me shit but I got eyes and ears, an’ I saw you two flirting at Scarlet’s. All damn day and night. You don’t act like that with someone you just broke up with.”

“Yeah I’m afraid you just spilled your own secret, Brooke,” Nina deadpanned from the passenger seat, giving a little laugh.

“Shit,” Brooke sighed, putting her head in her hands. “Great. Well, you probably think I’m a total asshole, Monet.”

“Hey, I’m a very chill person! You do you, girl. You wanna get with Vanessa for 3 months, break up with her for one and then get back with her again, that’s no business of mine,” Monet shrugged, a twinkle in her eye.

“Yeah, I know I made a mistake, thanks,” Brooke sighed, biting her lip as she let her thoughts wash over her. Monet had a unique angle on the whole situation. She lived with Monique, of course, and that whole thing was still going on between her and Vanessa, if a message Vanessa had accidentally sent to the group chat last week was anything to go by. Brooke had wondered for days on end whether it had actually been an accident or not, the content of the message sending her crazy with jealousy as it was essentially just Vanessa begging Monique to come round and fuck her into the mattress. She’d considered whether or not it could have been deliberate, but the absolute roasting Vanessa had received afterwards from the other girls couldn’t have been worth it if it had. Brooke considered asking Monet for some inside knowledge, decided against it, and then did a U-turn as she concluded that her pride and dignity were already bruised so she might as well go the whole hog and shatter them.

“So, uh…Vanessa’s still seeing Monique.”

Monet ran her tongue over her teeth. “She’s certainly round at the flat a lot.”

“So is that, uh…I mean, do you think that’s going to turn into anything more, or…?”

“I don’t know, girl, I don’t know if it’s my place to say.”

This is like pulling teeth. “Do you think they-”

“They’re having a lot of sex.”

“Monet!” Nina burst out in a shocked laugh.

“What?! They are!”

“Excellent!” Brooke exclaimed sarcastically, staring out the window as the city around them turned into fields and the houses turned into service stations.

“C’mon, Brooke, you have to admit you do kinda deserve this a lil’ bit,” Monet laughed, Brooke rolling her eyes from the back seat.

“Right, both of you shut up. I’m officially banning any conversations about pining or relationships until we get to the house. We sing, we eat snacks, occasionally we play I Spy. That’s it,” Nina scolded them, turning around in her seat and staring Brooke down. Brooke had never felt more like a disgraced teenager in her life.

“Ughhhh, fine, Mom,” Monet groaned, changing up into fifth as they hit the motorway, the weekend becoming more real and making Brooke tingle with excitement despite the news she hadn’t wanted to hear.

Just as Nina had ordered them, the three girls spent the rest of the journey singing at the top of their lungs to Vengaboys, B*Witched and Cascada, Brooke on crisp duty as she passed the cavernous bag of barbecue rib McCoys forward every five minutes or so, Monet making hurried grabs at crinkle cut crisps in between changing gears. Brooke managed to avoid the dreaded travel-sickness that had plagued her since she was about six years old, much to Monet and Nina’s delight. The sun didn’t let up, and it still hung proudly in the sky as the girls pulled up the leafy, tree-lined driveway to the house they’d booked, the branches hanging low and curling around each other signalling they hadn’t been cut in a while. Spying Akeria’s Corsa and Plastique’s Audi already parked, Monet pulled up alongside the huge white house, the little set of three stone chimneys on the roof puffing out smoke and letting the girls know that at least one room wouldn’t be too cold inside. As Monet neatened up her parking, the sound of Silky’s screeching cut through the crunching of wheels against gravel, and the rest of the girls spilled out of the front door shortly afterwards. As soon as the car had stopped, Brooke excitedly hopped out of the passenger seat, hugging any girl she could reach. Before she knew it, she’d found herself pulling out of a quick hug with Vanessa, and the two were in front of each other.

“Hey,” Brooke decided quickly to speak first, setting the tone so there wouldn’t be any awkward pauses.

“Hey! How was your ride? Get here okay?” Vanessa asked politely, tucking a strand of her caramel hair behind one ear. She was dressed in a tiny little cropped black jumper and some faded grey jeans, Brooke trying to ignore her mind reminding her of how right it felt to wrap her arms around Vanessa again, how tiny her waist was and how much she wished she could go back for another hug- for fuck’s sake, cut that shit out.

“Uh, yeah! It was fine. Traffic wasn’t too bad. How about you?”

Vanessa let out a laugh. “Shit was like Wacky Races. Akeria nearly rammed some old cunt off the road. I’ve never seen road rage like it, we genuinely feared for our lives. Or her license. Oh my God, this house is insane. C’mon, you need to see it!”

There was a split-second where Brooke felt Vanessa tug at her hand, which was quickly dropped as if the action had never happened. It was almost as if Vanessa had been on automatic pilot; the ease with which she used to slip her hand into Brooke’s hadn’t been forgotten by either of them. And then Brooke felt Plastique leap onto her back like a monkey, and the girl was excitedly chattering away to her, and the moment had passed.

Brooke barely had time to take in the huge cream-painted hall with the varnished cream stairs stretching practically up to the ceiling when Plastique steered her down two steps and into the kitchen, grey stone tiles making Brooke’s feet feel cold even through her trainers and the huge wooden table overflowing with assorted snacks. Akeria and Scarlet clung to the rail of the AGA, the two girls clearly feeling the cold in the chilly kitchen.

“Did any of us actually bring a meal between us or are we just going to live off of Twirl Bites and Classic Dip Selections?” Yvie wondered, picking up a four-pack of various dips. Brooke laughed.

“Hey, there’s pizzas in the fridge! Do y’all really think I would let you starve?” Silky piped up, opening the huge fridge to reveal at least ten pizzas, more than they would eat in one night.

“Nobody goes hungry in the presence of Silky Nutmeg Ganache,” Plastique smiled proudly, holding her fist out for Silky to punch. As the girls’ fists connected, Brooke watched as Vanessa scraped a wooden chair out against the stone floor.

“You girls wanna have a munch and then get wrecked?”

“Hmm, if we get drunk too early then there’s no way we’ll be able to work this oven,” Scarlet shrugged, biting her lip and frowning.

“Yeah, we’re gonna struggle to operate this sober,” Monet considered, opening up one of the oven doors and investigating.

“Well how about we snack and then play a game? I wanna play hide and seek in here,” Nina bounced on the balls of her feet excitedly. Akeria snorted.

“Hide and seek, you’re such a child. But to be fair, that could be fun. Or sardines.”

“What’s that?” asked Brooke. “I don’t know if we had that but called it something else.”

“That one where one person hides and everyone else seeks,” Yvie explained. “It’s way better. Way more chaotic.”

“Sweet. I’m down,” Brooke shrugged. She was glad that all of the girls she was friends with were happy to dick about and play kids’ games for an afternoon, and it was the kind of thing she’d miss when she graduated and would have to find a job.

The girls were all feeling peckish after their long drive, though, so they all grabbed the nearest snacks they could and headed upstairs to the living room, where Akeria had managed to start the fire which was crackling warmly in the huge marble fireplace. They all dumped their food on the huge glass-topped coffee table and had a little explore around the house before they relaxed. There was a surplus of bedrooms, and it had been agreed that since they were celebrating Brooke and Akeria’s birthdays, the two girls should have a bedroom to themselves each. Brooke’s bedroom had a huge bay window out to the rear of the house where the fields stretched for miles, and an actual four-poster bed.

“I can’t help but feel like you guys should take this room and I should take yours,” Brooke said with a pang of guilt for Yvie and Scarlet, who had dumped their things in the room they were sharing and had come to investigate Brooke’s.

Scarlet made a noise of discouragement. “No, it’s fine! This’ll get cold anyway, it’s so big. Our room’s cosier.”

Brooke watched Scarlet share a smile with her girlfriend and wrap both of her arms around Yvie’s. “Yeah, honestly, Brooke, it’s fine. Scarlet would manage to bump her head and toe and Christ knows what else on all four of the posts anyway.”

Scarlet burst out into offended laughter, letting the girls know that she secretly agreed a little bit.

“How’re the others?” Brooke asked, peering down the little corridor with the exposed wooden beams and hearing chatter and Monet’s deep laughter coming from the other rooms.

“Plastique, Silk and Vanj are all in together. I think V drew the short straw so she’s on the sofa bed,” Scarlet gave a shrug.

“That’s unfortunate,” Yvie commented, raising her eyebrows at Brooke slightly.

“Behave,” Brooke smacked her, not appreciating the implication. Vanessa had only just become friends with her again. They were hardly going to spend the entire night going at it like rabbits just because Vanessa wasn’t looking at her like she wanted to kill her anymore. “Come on, lovebirds. I feel like I haven’t shovelled enough crisps down my throat today.”

The three girls made their way to the living room again, where Nina and Monet were draped over the sofa and snacking on some sort of jelly sweets. Gradually the other girls joined them in drips and drabs and they spent the time chatting and gossiping in their usual way- about anything and everything under the sun. Brooke kept finding her eyes being drawn to Vanessa. It wasn’t entirely her fault- she was sitting opposite her, and often Brooke would find her already looking her way. Although that could have just been Brooke’s imagination. God, she didn’t even know anymore.

“Right!” Nina cried, as everyone looked dangerously close to slipping into a snack-induced coma. “Sardines time!”

“Kiki should hide first, it’s her birthday!” Silky argued immediately, Brooke only the tiniest bit affronted.

“Hey, hey, it’s Brooke’s birthday too. Also, I feel like y’all are way more enthusiastic than me about this, so I really don’t mind.”

“Brooke hides first!” Nina shouted unnecessarily. Brooke stood up from the sofa and rolled her eyes.

“Wait, so everyone is after me? Christ. This is like that nightmare I had about being on Hunted.”

“Good luck tryna squeeze that Jolly Green Giant-ass body into any of these cupboards, bitch!” Vanessa yelled across the room to uproarious laughter, Brooke turning round in time to see Vanessa stick her tongue out at her.

“Oh, like you can talk! Are you not the same size as an actual Subway sandwich?” Brooke bit back, sticking her tongue out right back and feeling an excited fizz in her stomach as she caught Vanessa blushing slightly as she laughed. As the other girls joined in with the mocking and all piled on each other, Brooke spotted two girls who weren’t laughing- Akeria and Silky were looking at each other knowingly, a look that seemed to convey disapproval. What the hell was their problem? If Vanessa was fine with her, then that meant there was no reason for the two of them to hold a grudge either, right?

Brooke frowned, trying not to read too much into it. She turned around and headed out the door. “Okay, count to 100 then, bitches!”

As she heard the others all start chanting descending numbers like a terrifying cult of mathematicians, Brooke began dashing around the house for a place to hide. She ran past the bedrooms, assuming that the others would check there straight away. Brooke considered going behind the porch door, but then thought that might end up being too obvious. She found herself in the kitchen, and to her delight she noticed a huge wooden door set into the wall that had to be a cupboard. Opening it, she saw what looked to be a pantry- shelves and shelves with only a couple of tins left by other guests at the house. It was good, but Brooke didn’t think it was a particularly great place to hide until she spotted another door at the very end of the pantry- slightly smaller with a little circular handle. As Brooke turned it, she was confronted with a tiny dark room, with only the blinking lights of the boiler that sat inside to illuminate it.

Perfect.

As Brooke hopped in, she could hear the blood roaring in her ears and her heart thumping. She wanted to giggle. This was exactly how it had felt to play hide and seek when she was little, and she couldn’t believe she was a grown-ass twenty-two year old still feeling the same way. Hell, she couldn’t believe she was a grown-ass twenty-two year old playing hide and seek. Gradually, she began to hear the sound of footsteps thundering above her, the old ceiling creaking and letting Brooke know the girls were on their way. Then, it all went silent for a while. Brooke breathed out heavily. Just then, she heard the door to the pantry open and one set of footsteps shuffle through it. They dashed to the end of the room and then seemed to be satisfied that there was nothing more to investigate- until Brooke heard them do what seemed to be a double-take. Keeping her breathing silent, Brooke stood frozen to the spot as she saw the door gradually open with a long, murder-mystery style creaaak…

Shit.

Vanessa stood at the doorframe to the cupboard, a shit-eating grin on her face. “I’ve been tellin’ Yvie I’m the best at hide and seek, but she ain’t believe me. What’d that take me, two minutes?”

“Yeah, good job, Poirot,” Brooke smirked, although it was hiding a multitude of nerves. Her and Vanessa, stuck in a tight, dark space together until the other girls found them. This was fine. This would be fine. “Right come on then, girl, you need to get in.”

“Fuck no, I ain’t goin’ in there! That’s a straight-up spiders’ nest, fuck that.”

“Just get in!” Brooke grabbed her gently but firmly by the wrist and dragged her inside, closing the door behind them. It was entirely dark except for the small strip of light where the door met the doorframe, which illuminated Vanessa’s hair and collarbones. There was a small beat of silence in which Brooke’s eyes adjusted to the darkness again, and when her vision had settled she could see Vanessa smiling at her cheekily. “What?”

“There’s a spider in your hair.”

Brooke rolled her eyes. “No there’s not.”

“There is! A big one. It’s some Harry Potter type shit, I swear.”

“Shut up, Vanessa, I’m not falling for that shit,” Brooke snorted a laugh, squashing the unease that began to creep up on her.

“It’s got, like, a billion eyes.”

“Has it.”

“An’ forty legs,” Vanessa bit her lip, trying not to laugh.

“What the fuck kind of biology classes did you go to? A spider with forty leg- JESUS!” Brooke all at once cut herself off, feeling a movement at her shoulder, her hair flicking against her neck slightly. She gave herself such a jolt that it felt like whiplash, and she watched as Vanessa laughed at her brushing wildly against her shoulder. Brooke was confused when her hand connected with another hand. Vanessa’s hand. How the hell she’d managed to reach up there without Brooke’s notice was anyone’s guess, but she’d certainly done what she’d set out to do. Brooke launched herself forward and squeezed a hand at Vanessa’s waist, laughing as the other girl screeched in response. The two girls descended into giggles, Brooke having to fend off Vanessa’s playful swipes as she berated her.

“Shut up, bitch! You’re going to get us caught!” Brooke laughed, grabbing one of Vanessa’s wrists in each hand. Suddenly, both girls paused, the compromising position they were in dawning on both of them. The memory of when she used to pin Vanessa to the bed with both her wrists and kiss her neck shot through Brooke’s mind like a hot iron, unwanted and welcome all at once. In the darkness, she could see Vanessa’s single raised eyebrow.

“You telling me you don’t wanna get caught?” she murmured, her voice low and making the atmosphere charged and thick with something that hadn’t been there before. Brooke squeezed her thighs together. This couldn’t turn into something else. She couldn’t let it.

“Well, that is the whole point of the game,” Brooke said, trying to inject as much level-headedness into her tone as she was able. To her dismay she watched as Vanessa’s eyes took on a dark twinkle.

“Oh, right, uh-huh. The game. Sure,” she smirked, Brooke only able to laugh in response because that way she wasn’t saying anything. This situation was fucked. It was so weird. Vanessa was flirting with her, unprompted. So what did this mean? That she still liked Brooke? That she wanted to be friends and was just playing? What did this mean for her and Monique? They couldn’t be that serious, then, if Vanessa was doing all this? Or maybe they’d fallen out and Vanessa wanted her to be jealous? But what was the point of making somebody jealous who wasn’t here? What if her and Monique were together and Vanessa was cheating? What if-

“AYYYYYY FUCKIN’ HOES! Yes! I’m shit-hot at this game, Jesus!” Silky threw the door open, screeching her head off and sending every thought that Brooke was overthinking into the stratosphere.

“Stop yellin’ bitch, and get in!” Vanessa laughed. As Silky squeezed into the ever-decreasing-in-space cupboard, Brooke felt her throat almost close up as Vanessa shuffled up against her to make more room, tilting her head up, locking eyes with Brooke and sending her a look that she couldn’t decipher before looking away and whispering to Silky.

They were eventually found by the other girls- namely because there was no space at all once Scarlet arrived so Plastique found half of the girls with one toe in the cupboard and the rest of their bodies outside of it. The game carried on, but Brooke’s head wasn’t properly in it. She would deliberately put in the bare minimum effort when she was looking for the girls because, really, she wouldn’t know what to do if she was stuck in another confined space with Vanessa. Why had it turned so weird before? All flirty and edged with something she couldn’t work out. It wasn’t right- Vanessa was meant to be mad at her, meant to hate her and never want to speak to her again and somehow they’d gone from civil, to nearly-friends, to eye-fucking each other in a boiler cupboard in the space of a month?

The encounter was still playing on Brooke’s mind as she got ready for dinner. The girls had all decided that they would “do a Love Island” (in the words of Akeria) and all get glammed up to sit in the living room and play games after they’d eaten. It felt funny to be putting on a dress, heels and fake lashes without the possibility of going out anywhere, but the methodical process of putting on her makeup was a welcome distraction from the swirling thoughts in Brooke’s head.

“Ayo,” came an unexpected voice, causing Brooke to flinch a little and drop the lipgloss she’d been applying moments before. Looking behind her in the mirror she saw it was just Yvie and Nina. Usually she’d have been happy to see them, but right now she was doing too much overthinking and couldn’t let on what had happened earlier between her and Vanessa. So Brooke just stuck on her best fake smile as she turned around to face them.

“Hey! You guys look so good,” she complimented them, Nina smiling and Yvie giving a little snort.

“Well I didn’t want to be accused of not making an effort for your birthday again,” she poked her tongue out at Brooke and tugged a little at the beads on the hem of her short gold dress.

“If you trip in those heels I hope you know that’s, like, instant paralysis,” Brooke commented, looking at the spikes of Yvie’s six inch stilettos. When the girl did glam, she did glam, Brooke had to give it to her.

“As if Yvie needs to be any taller than she already is,” Nina laughed playfully.

“Awh, she needs to be tall so she can look down on her smol bean uwu girlfriend,” Brooke teased, Nina continuing to giggle and Yvie giving an amused roll of her eyes.

“What’s up with you anyway, bitch? You’ve been, like, extra bitter around all the couples today. It’s supposed to be your birthday, cheer the fuck up,” Yvie gave her a little nudge with her foot. Brooke frowned. She didn’t think she had been being bitter, but maybe Yvie was right. Fuck, what had she even said today? Brooke hoped that Vanessa hadn’t noticed anything.

“No, that’s not true. I’m fine! Just…” Brooke sighed, the bingo-hall-style tombola spinning rapidly in her head to generate an excuse. “…exams are soon, you know, and I’ve not started revising yet-”

“Oh my God, bitch, they’re in May! This is March! Chill the hell out,” Yvie laughed, pulling Brooke up from her position on the floor by the long mirror in the corner of her room. “Let’s go eat pizza. If Monet and Plastique have worked out how to cook them in that 1920s horror oven.”

As Yvie excitedly strutted out of the room and Brooke made to join her, Nina reached out to squeeze her hand.

“You’re a crap liar, Brooke Lynn Hytes,” she hissed quietly, Brooke rolling her eyes and making to protest when Nina spoke again. “But I won’t push it. I just wish you’d open the fuck up more.”

Brooke felt guilty. “I just don’t…it’s something I don’t want to overthink, Nina. So the best way you can help is helping me stuff myself full of carbs then pouring a 24 pack of San Miguel down my throat.”

Nina nodded understandingly as they reached the top of the stairs, Brooke holding back a snort as she watched Yvie cling to the bannister for dear life as she descended. Nina gave her hand another squeeze, then dropped it. “I can do that. You look beautiful, by the way.”

Brooke shyly looked down at her short, black one-shoulder dress and smoothed it down. “Thanks, babe.”

Nina’s smile suddenly turned scheming. “And so does Vanessa.”

Before Brooke could protest, Nina was bounding down the stairs in her bright white Filas that she’d paired with her blue and white checked dress. It wasn’t as formal as Brooke’s or Yvie’s, but that was the beauty of having a glam night in a big house where it was just them- nobody could judge you for being over or underdressed.

As Brooke followed her flatmates into the kitchen, she was met with the sight of her friends all happy, chatting, and in their best outfits. Annoyed at herself, she found her eyes darting around to find Vanessa. She wanted to know why Nina had said what she’d said, wanted to know if she was just winding her up.

And then her eyes came to rest on the most gorgeous version of Vanessa she’d ever seen, and her anxiety dipped, did a loop, then spiked. They were both in black- some dumb coincidence that the earth had sent her way, no doubt- but Vanessa’s was shiny, a vinyl dress that clung to her as if it was made of latex and painfully highlighted every curve of her body. She’d paired it with red heels, which had straps that snaked their way up her calves and showcased her perfect skin. Her dark hair had been blow-dried out (probably by Akeria, Brooke guessed) and fell in perfect waves down her back and over her shoulders (had she fucking highlighted her collarbones?). Her makeup was, as usual, perfect, a dark shock of eyeshadow and an indecent red on her lips causing Brooke’s heart to race. The worst part, though, about the whole outfit, was the silver zip that ran from the top of the dress to the bottom, right in the middle at the front, and either Vanessa (or someone mucking about with her…probably Silky) had unzipped it just the tiniest amount. For about the hundredth time that month, Brooke cursed herself for breaking things off with Vanessa. It wasn’t just about her looks though, or her body, or how much she missed the sex. Their interaction in the cupboard made Brooke remember how funny Vanessa was, how much of an endearing goofball, how she was just a cheerful person whose only real wish in life was to be properly happy. And Brooke had hurt her, made her the exact opposite of that. Vanessa loved everything and everyone so deeply, was the most open of books, and was so unafraid of feeling. Meanwhile there was Brooke not even able to tell her own flatmates, the two girls that knew her best in the world, about her own feelings.

As she watched Vanessa’s eyes drift from Scarlet and Monet, who she’d been talking to, across the room to rest on her, Brooke felt her heart stop. Not giving a single thing away, Vanessa smiled, gave a little wave, and crossed the room to where Brooke stood.

“Hey!” she began, so confident and self-assured and making Brooke feel more like a trashbag than she already did. “Nice dress.”

“Thanks!” Brooke smiled, uncharacteristically flustered at the tiny compliment. “You look so beaud!”

Fuck. Brooke kicked herself for getting tongue tied, badly hoping Vanessa wouldn’t have noticed. As she watched a confused smile appear on her face, Brooke realised she’d have to explain herself. “I was going to say beautiful, then I changed it to good and they just sort of…mushed together.”

Brooke felt her face grow hot as Vanessa simply raised an eyebrow in a smirk. “I’ll take both. Beautiful and good.”

Just as Brooke was about to defend herself, Silky announced to the girls in her own Silky-esque way that the pizzas were ready, and, giving a cry of delight, Vanessa had dashed across the room and left Brooke forgotten about.

As they all ate, Brooke fought an internal battle. She had absolutely no right to feel sorry for herself, this mess was entirely of her own making. Besides, she had to put everything out of her head now; she had made her decision, Vanessa had moved on, and she had to let the whole thing drop. But despite all this, it didn’t stop her brain constantly pestering her with what-ifs.

It was still pestering her once they’d all finished their dinner and moved upstairs into the huge living room for drinks and games, so she was glad when Nina popped herself down beside her with two ice cold bottles of beer from the fridge.

“One for each hand,” she explained. Brooke burst out laughing. She fucking loved Nina so much.

“Where’s yours?”

“Monet’s making mojitos for me and her. I love having a girlfriend, it’s like a sexy butler that you get to have sex with and cuddle any time you want,” Nina mused wistfully, giving Brooke her second belly-laugh in the space of two minutes. As she composed herself, Monet came into the room with two huge tall glasses overflowing with crushed ice and garnished with lime and mint.

“Where the fuck did you get mint and limes?” Brooke asked, screwing her face up in confusion then scrambling to pull a slightly more attractive one as Vanessa came in flanked by Silky and Akeria.

“I brought them, bitch! Anyway what did I miss?”

“Nina called you a sexy butler,” Brooke said casually, sipping one of her two beers and smiling as she watched Nina grow flustered.

“Jesus Christ, I’m getting all the compliments today! First I was a Tesco Finest girlfriend, now I’m a sexy butler. You know how to treat a lady, Neens,” Monet teased, pulling her girlfriend in and smothering her with kisses on the cheek.

“Ugh, get that couple shit outta here,” Vanessa yelled from the other sofa, throwing a leftover crisp at them. Monet instantly snapped back.

“Uh, like you can talk, Vanj.”

“What the shit hell is that meant to mean?” Vanessa laughed, amused.

Akeria grew outraged as she turned around to face Vanessa, her long, straight hair swinging wildly as she flipped it over her shoulder. “NEED we remind you what you sent to the group chat last week?!”

Silky began yelling, mirroring the cries of woe and dismay that were circling through Brooke’s brain at being reminded that Monique was still very much in the picture. “NO we do NOT need reminded! I can’t go through that again, dear Jesus God…”

“Fuck babygirl, I need that mouth on me-” Akeria began reading dramatically from her screen, the girls cringing and laughing and every word feeling like a kick to Brooke’s gut as Vanessa, face bright red, wrestled with Akeria to get the phone out of her hands. “-I’m touching myself but you know it’s not the same- aw, V! Give it back!”

“I’m gonna eat this fuckin’ phone, Akeria Chanel Davenport, I swear,” Vanessa chided her furiously, holding the phone out of her reach then relenting, giving it back to her. Silky fanned herself dramatically, making the others laugh. As Brooke did her best fake laugh and joined in, she tried not to make eye contact with Vanessa’s embarrassed face.

“Aw, are we talking about the unfortunate dirty text incident?” Plastique’s voice came from the hall, everyone laughing again as she sat down in the armchair beside the fire. “Seriously, V, you should be a songwriter. I swear that whole thing could’ve been from a Kamille song or some shit-”

“Well, all sexts are a little bit cringey, aren’t they?” Nina offered kindly, attempting to cheer Vanjie up. In doing this, she only succeeded in earning herself an exasperated cry from Monet.

“V, do you wanna go out? I can’t stand this bitch any more, she just keeps insulting me.”

As everyone howled with laughter and Nina frantically smothered her girlfriend in kisses trying to get her back onside, Brooke sneaked a look at Vanessa. She was laughing, but her face was still a little red. Christ, she looked so cute. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

“Speaking of sex, I’m assuming Yvie and Scarlet went off to bang?” Plastique shrugged, everyone finally realising who was missing.

“Oh, fuck this! Save that shit for later!” Silky protested, Akeria laughing and whacking her.

“Hey, let them be happy! It’s my birthday so I’m sayin’ if they want to fuck, let ‘em. In the meantime I have an empty wine bottle and a room full of girls with secrets that need spilled,” Akeria announced. Plastique clapped excitedly, Silky cheered and Vanessa rolled her eyes.

“For Christ’s sake, Kiki, do we not already know all there is to know about each other?” she complained. Interesting. So Vanessa didn’t want to play truth or dare, a game she was usually always down for.

“Excuse the fuck outta me, we played that stupid tuna game earlier!”

“Sardines,” Brooke deadpanned, earning herself a laugh from the room.

“It was some type of fish, I got that much right.”

“How are you through a whole bottle of wine already?” Silky asked, impressed.

“Can I live? It’s my birthday! Now will you hoes stop pissing in my cereal and let’s play!” Akeria implored, setting the wine bottle down against the red carpet and spinning it so violently Brooke worried that it would smash on the marble grate. It slowed, turning round and round and finally resting right back at where Akeria leant down from the sofa. She let out a giggle. “Oops. Guess it’s me.”

“Keeks, truth or dare!” Plastique asked excitedly. Akeria tilted her head, deep in thought.

“Hmm. I ain’t drunk enough for dares yet, so let’s go truth.”

There was a beat of silence as everyone racked their brains to think of something. Monet was first with an idea.

“Fuck, marry, kill: Silk, Vanj or…uh…”

“Asia,” Vanessa said simply, sipping some coke and spirit concoction through a straw as Silky let out a screech. Brooke was confused. She met her eyes with Nina’s, who looked equally baffled.

“Wait, who’s Asia?” Nina asked. Akeria, to her credit, looked composed. To be fair, Brooke had hardly ever seen her look anything but.

“She’s a friend from my course. We did a paired project together an’ she came over to the flat to work on it the other week,” Vanessa shrugged. “Her an’ Kiki seemed to hit it off.”

“I don’t have a fuckin’ crush on the girl, Jesus. Don’t make it weird,” Akeria rolled her eyes, blinking slowly. If Brooke squinted she might’ve spotted a flush to Akeria’s face, but perhaps that came from the glow of the fire.

Monet muttered under her breath to Brooke and Nina as the three flatmates bickered away. “Is Akeria gay?”

Brooke blew out a bunch of air. “Fuck, I don’t even know who’s what anymore.”

“She’s never classed herself as straight,” Nina elaborated cautiously. “She talks about getting dicked down by guys a lot. Then again, it’s really only Silky that does that and Keeks just joins in.”

“Silk and Vanj know something we don’t,” Brooke reasoned, watching as the two girls laughed and Akeria sat, poised and smirking at them indulgently as if they were kids.

“Right, enough! ‘Keria, fuck marry kill: Vanjie, Silk or Asia, then,” Monet shrugged, sipping her mojito.

Akeria flipped some hair over her shoulder and tilted her head to the sky thoughtfully. “I honestly can’t decide who I’d rather kill, Silk or Vanj.”

“Oh, so you’re gonna fuck or marry Asia, correct?” Vanessa quipped, a little fire igniting in Brooke’s heart as she watched a wicked smile spread across her scheming face.

“No, I don’t know her well enough to have any strong feelings towards her either way. You and Silk, however…” Akeria raised her eyebrows long-sufferingly, coaxing a laugh out of the other girls. “Uhh, right, marry Asia, or whatever. Kill Silky.”

“Bitch! I’ll kill you for real,” Silky objected, pummeling Akeria’s arm with a cushion.

“Fuck Vanj because she likes girls anyway and if she’s going down on me it means she’s not talking with that fuckin’ gritter-truck voice of hers,” Akeria shrugged as she concluded, the room cheering and Vanessa doing a little celebratory bow. As she flipped her head up she caught Brooke’s eye, giving her a little wink. Brooke crossed her legs and tried not to think about Vanessa going down on anyone. Least of all her.

“Aight!” Akeria said, indicating to everyone that her turn was well and truly over. “We move.”

The bottle was spun once more, Brooke taking a long drink out of her bottle and draining it. She needed to be tipsier than this. Everyone else seemed a little more drunk than she was, apart from Vanessa who she noted was sipping her drink sparingly. Brooke shook her head a little, trying to stop bringing her focus to Vanessa every five minutes. She’d taken her heels off and tucked her legs up underneath her on the sofa, and her thighs looked good for it.

“Plastique, truth or dare!”

Plastique tucked her hair behind her ears. “Uhh, dare.”

Brooke knew what to do for this one. Plastique had taken Ariel on a couple of dates, but the girls were emotionally stunted and neither of them had properly articulated their feelings to the other yet. “Call Ariel and tell her how you feel about her. Properly.”

As the other girls “oooh"ed in appreciation, Plastique fixed Brooke with an unimpressed glare. "I’m not doing that.”

“Pussy,” Brooke shrugged, sipping her other beer. Vanessa let out a laugh from the other side of the room.

“Brooke Lynn’s telling someone else they’re a pussy for not being open about their feelings? Are we in the correct universe?"

As the other girls gave a laugh that was only the slightest bit uncomfortable, Brooke rolled her eyes. "Okay, well at the very least send her a heartfelt text.”

“Why are you pushing this so much, ma?” Plastique pouted as she relented and reached for her phone.

“Because I’m bored of sitting in lectures hearing you moan about how you can’t tell her how you feel because it would make it weird or how you don’t want to come across too intense!"

"We all had to listen to you pine after Vanjie for two and a half years but we never forced you into admitting anything,” Plastique shrugged, the room erupting into shrieks. Brooke gave a choke of a laugh, wanting the ground to open up and swallow her. She knew her face was bright red without having to look in a mirror and, as much as her brain was imploring her not to, she found her eyes darting quickly to Vanessa to catch a glimpse of her face.

Calm, smiling tight-lipped and smug. As if she’d won something.

“No, but you did start a sweepstake about us so get off the high horse, thanks!” Brooke sing-songed back, the slight hint of irritation to her voice letting Plastique know she was to drop it. Us. The word felt weird in Brooke’s mouth, it hadn’t been used in so long. Two and a half years. Had she really liked Vanessa for that long before everything had happened between them? Brooke had actually thrown away two and a half years of feelings for the sake of one feeling of indecision, a feeling that maybe they shouldn’t have been a they any more?

For Christ’s sake don’t look at Vanessa.

“Fine. I’ve put tonight’s really fun but I miss you, I always miss you when you’re not with me, hope you know how much I care about you. That heartfelt enough for you bitches?” Plastique muttered, embarrassed. Nina let out an “aaw”, Akeria made a sick noise.

“Acceptable,” Brooke shrugged, sipping on her beer again. Suddenly, a cheer went up from Akeria, Vanessa and Silky who could see who was coming through the living room door first. Yvie and Scarlet were walking close, holding a glass of red wine each and wearing matching poker faces.

“Oh, here they are! Nice of you to finally join us!” Nina cheered, Scarlet giving a small smile and smoothing her dress down, sitting beside Yvie on the last remaining couch.

“All the best people are fashionably late!” she shrugged. Yvie gave a snort and swept some hair over her shoulder to cover her neck. Brooke saw the action and jumped on it.

“Nice neckwear.”

Yvie turned only slightly red. “Thanks. Gucci.”

“Hear that? Yvie’s girlfriend is Gucci. Not Tesco Finest. Gucci,” Monet nudged Nina, setting another laugh off amongst the girls.

“We’re playing truth or dare,” Brooke explained to the two girls, as Plastique gave the glass bottle a bit of a pathetic spin.

“Vanjie!”

Vanessa shook her head. “Nah that spin was shit, it don’t count.”

“Like hell it don’t! Truth or dare, bitch?” Silky all but interrogated her. Vanessa thought about it for a moment, then decided.

“Truth.”

Brooke’ heart hammered in her chest. She hoped to God they wouldn’t ask Vanessa anything about her, anything about them.

“What’s going on with you and Monique, Vanjie?” Monet asked dramatically, Akeria giving a cry of delight and thumping her hands against her thighs.

Great.

As the room broke out into eager laughter, Vanessa just smiled.

“Well, Monique and I are good friends, and…we get on well. We both been, y'know, unlucky in love a lil’, so…” Vanessa trailed off, the room giving little chokes of anticipation and Brooke’s stomach twisting. “…if it’s one in the morning and one of us is maybe still up…y'know…”

Monet gave a tiny squeal through her teeth. Brooke wanted to wedge herself in between the sofa cushions and not emerge again til May of next year.

“Y'know, Monique’s very confident, very sure of herself, an’ that's…y'know, it’s attractive…” Vanessa trailed off, running her tongue over her teeth. Brooke knew that face, remembered the time when that face used to get directed at her before they’d fall into bed together, frantic kisses planted along collarbones and clothes discarded over the uneven floorboards of Vanessa’s room.

“But what’s actually going on? You’ve said so much but not actually said anything,” Yvie let out an unimpressed laugh. Vanessa composed herself and sat up straight, taking a rare sip of her drink.

“Well, we get on well. She’s a good person. And we’re friends,” Vanessa smiled coyly, causing the girls to laugh uproariously.

“Okay, okay, we all see it! We all get it!” Monet laughed, the knife twisting in Brooke’s stomach. Could it have been more obvious that they were obviously having each other in every type of position imaginable with any chance they got, or was it just Brooke being paranoid? She thought back to what Monet had said in the car earlier and concluded that, occasional hits of the bong aside, she was not being paranoid by any stretch of the imagination.

The game rolled along. Nina was made to do something vague and embarrassing with Monet that Brooke forgot quickly (or perhaps blocked out), Scarlet was forced to admit (rather proudly, Brooke thought) that her and Yvie had quickly fucked upstairs in the time they’d been away, and a few other of the girls did a couple of bland truths. As much as the bottle spun and spun, it never seemed to point Brooke’s way. Brooke was glad. She didn’t want to admit or say anything, and she also didn’t want to do anything remotely risky. However, when the bottle landed on Vanessa a second time, Brooke began to reconsider her thought process.

“Dare,” Vanessa smiled, a glint of danger in her eye flashing quickly as she darted her eyes quickly to Brooke.

Brooke tried not to look at Nina as she spoke. “Vanjie. Kiss the hottest girl in the room.”

“Oh, that’s a good one,” Plastique whispered quietly. It seemed as if the whole room held its breath. Brooke didn’t know if she was grateful to Nina for the setup or whether she wanted to descend into the earth’s core. She knew Vanessa had answered this question before with this group of girls, she knew that Vanessa thought the answer was her. But that was before everything had changed. Brooke felt her pulse race as Vanessa looked to the ceiling, deep in thought.

Slowly, she turned her gaze to Yvie and Scarlet.

“Yvie,” she began, a small sinking feeling lodging itself in Brooke’s chest. “Can I kiss your girlfriend?”

Yvie smiled at Scarlet proudly, happy for the compliment. “Dare’s a dare. Bring her back.”

“Scarlet, can I get a lil’ smooch?” Vanessa laughed, Scarlet laughing back and motioning for her to sit beside them on the sofa.

“C'mere, friend,” she laughed easily, Vanessa crossing the room and joining them. Brooke remembered when Vanessa had kissed Scarlet before- in the nightclub, before they were together and before Yvie and Scarlet were together. She remembered how it made her feel- a little irritated and sad all in one. Looking back, she realised it was plain and simple jealousy, and she knew her feelings weren’t going to change this time.

Quickly, Vanessa leaned in and met Scarlet’s lips, kissing her gently but slowly, her hand resting on Scarlet’s hip easily. It could only have been about three seconds long, but each one seemed to tick by agonisingly slowly, and Brooke hoped she wasn’t showing any of her fucked-up emotions on her face. As the two girls pulled away and the others whooped and whistled, Scarlet made a face.

“Bitch, all I tasted there was pepperoni. That was the least sexy kiss I’ve ever had.”

“You loved it, hoe!” Vanessa laughed, retreating back to her seat. Desperate to look at anything but Vanessa’s face, Brooke watched Yvie and Scarlet. Yvie had the satisfied grin of a mafia mob boss as Scarlet whispered something in her ear, then smiled seductively, kissing her once, twice, three times, red lipstick meeting purple.

“Well if I wasn’t bi before, I sure as hell am now,” Plastique fanned herself.

“We are the cornerstone of Plastique’s sexual identity. That’s a fucking compliment!” Scarlet cheered, Yvie laughing and wrapping her arms around her.

“Nah, you and Yvie are my parents. The Mums of the group,” Plastique explained.

“Fuck off, we’re not the Mums!” Yvie laughed, outraged. “Nina and Monet are literally right there!”

“Hey! That’s not fair!” Nina cried, outraged at the perceived injustice.

“Yeah, don’t lump me in with this dork!” Monet yelled, laughing with the other girls as Nina swatted her on the arm.

“Right! Spin, Vanj,” Yvie ordered, the girl spinning the bottle round obediently. Brooke watched as the top of the bottle whizzed by her once, twice, three times, past Yvie, Scarlet, the Antigua Road girls, slowed down as it reached Plastique, edged past Monet and Nina and then came to rest on Brooke.

“All RIGHT! About time this bitch spilt some tea,” Silky clapped in delight.

“Brooke,” Akeria said with the threat level of an MI5 employee. “Truth or dare?”

Brooke paused. Her go-to was usually a truth, however there was no way she was going for that this time, not while she was still a concrete mixer of feelings for Vanessa and not while there was a room full of people wanting to know exactly what was going on with them. She shrugged. “Dare.”

“Okay-” Akeria tailed off, making to stop and think. A practically evil smile spread across her face as realisation dawned on her. “Same dare. Kiss the hottest person in the room. Ten seconds.”

Silky let out a scream, growing so excitable on the sofa that Vanessa was almost sent through the ceiling. Scarlet whispered something to Yvie on the sofa, both of the girls looking at Brooke intently. Plastique shouted over something to Akeria that Brooke couldn’t hear. All she could focus on was how Vanessa had grabbed Silky and was laughing, but somewhat nervously. Her face had gone bright red. Brooke bit her lip. She thought back to their flirting in the cupboard earlier, how they were almost back to square one again, the weird bid Vanessa had made to make Brooke jealous. She could always kiss Yvie or Nina, take the easy way out. But the more she looked at Vanessa, the more drawn she became to her until before she knew what she was doing, Brooke had stood up from her place on the carpet and taken one, two, three steps to sit on the couch and look Vanessa in the eyes.

Brooke could hear everyone in the room screaming, and she knew Silky had run out of the room shouting incoherently, but all she seemed to hear was her blood roaring in her ears as Vanessa leaned in. Before she knew it, Brooke’s hand was resting on Vanessa’s bare thigh and they were kissing each other, slow and deep and lazy and in a way that Brooke never wanted to end. She felt Vanessa’s tongue licking at hers gently and immediately felt a throb of heat between her legs as she remembered 3ams spent between her sheets and Vanessa’s head buried between her thighs.

Christ, this was a bad idea, this was a bad idea-

“ZERO! And y’all can officially cut that shit out,” Brooke suddenly felt herself being wrenched away from Vanessa, Akeria’s voice cutting through her hazy thoughts and bringing her back down to earth with a bump.

“Well, I feel like on that note,” Monet clapped her hands together decisively. “I’m away out to drink in the hot tub. Anyone else?”

One by one the girls agreed, dashing out of the room excitedly, and it was obvious to Brooke that everyone would be talking about what had just happened. Vanessa had run off quickly, her hand in Silky’s as the two dashed upstairs to get their swimwear on. The only girl that was left in the room as Brooke made to do the same was Akeria. She frowned at Brooke as they both left the room, a warning in her eyes which sent a chill down Brooke’s spine. Trying to ignore it, Brooke dashed upstairs, changed into her pink bikini and then ran outside to join the others. They wouldn’t talk about her and Vanessa’s kiss if she was there, so the less time she was away the better. Brooke grabbed a third beer from the fridge on her way out to the garden, and as she stepped outside she noticed how the moon already hung huge and bright in the sky, how the grass already had a shine of cold wet on it, and how everything looked almost a little bit magic. Joining the others and sitting between Yvie and Plastique, she tried to ignore Vanessa sitting opposite her in a black bikini that looked equally sinful as the outfit she’d been wearing before. Luckily the rest of the girls had no further desire to play drinking games, and talk instead turned to movies. Brooke didn’t join in. She couldn’t- too much was swirling around her mind, namely how good the kiss had felt. Scarlet had probably lied to make Yvie laugh- Vanessa had tasted like sugary coke, and the all too familiar scent of her perfume was still inexplicably clinging to Brooke. It had been weird to kiss after months of no contact at all. It had been a bad decision. Brooke had done yet another wrong thing.

So why did it feel somehow correct?

“Right!” Akeria said after a while, almost toppling over as she stood up. “I think I’m gettin’ a touch of the hypothermias. Who’s comin’ inside to watch Sister Act?”

“Bitch! That’s like, my favourite movie. Hell yes,” Monet sprang up, knocking Nina off her lap and into the middle of the hot tub. The girls erupted in a laugh, Brooke almost dropping her beer into the water. One by one, they all filed out of the water. Brooke was the last one left. Admittedly she didn’t want to leave- she was now tipsy enough to not feel the cold, and she could have lain back and stared at the white light of the full moon in the inky sky forever. Just as she was about to follow the others, she noticed that the second-to-last girl out of the hot tub was Vanessa. Brooke swallowed thickly, trying her best not to stare at how the small droplets of water clung to her thick thighs or how her tiny bikini barely covered her firm ass, or how her slick, wet hair cascaded down her back. Almost as if she could read Brooke’s mind, Vanessa slowly, tortuously turned around. She had a little wicked smile on her face, the kind she always used to wear when she flirted with Brooke. It made Brooke cross her legs and squeeze her thighs together.

“You got a good enough view from there?” she asked, playfulness coating her words as she spread both her arms out to lean against the back of the hot tub.

This was bad. This was not good. Brooke couldn’t flirt back. It would only lead to another really horrendous, catastrophic decision. Her mind was hot-wiring, and to her dismay she couldn’t come up with any form of quick-witted comeback. Noticing how long it was taking her to reply, Vanessa gave a throaty laugh.

“Hmm. I’ll take that as a yes, then,” she purred, crossing the water and sitting down close next to Brooke. Brooke tried her best not to choke as she took a sip from the bottle in her hand.

“Thought you were going to watch Sister Act?” she asked, trying to sound casual but cringing at how nervous she sounded as the words left her mouth. Her blood pressure dialled up a notch as Vanessa laced her fingers together, placed her hands on Brooke’s bare shoulder, then rested her head against her fingers.

“I don’t know. Think I’d rather see what’s so special about this view you love so much,” Vanessa murmured softly, Brooke not missing the way she rushed out the word ‘love’ as if to distil any awkwardness. She didn’t need to worry, though, because right now all Brooke could focus on was how good Vanessa looked in that black bikini, and how her red lipstick still clung to her plump lips as if it had just been applied, and her beautiful dark gaze from under her fake lashes.

“Hmm. It’s a pretty good view. Pretty beautiful,” Brooke found herself whispering, eliciting a sparkle from Vanessa’s eyes. Fuck. Shit. She shouldn’t have said that, it just seemed to have happened, but with Vanessa sitting pressed up so close to her how else could she have possibly reacted? There was a small silence in which Vanessa gave a small giggle, looking down at the constantly popping bubbles. The jet stream pummeled Brooke’s back to bits.

“What’s funny?” she smiled cautiously. Vanessa looked at her, something nostalgic on her face.

“Your pickup lines are still cringey as fuck,” she smirked, Brooke rolling her eyes a little. She had to steer this conversation back to normality. Whatever the fuck normality was as far as her and Vanessa were concerned.

“That wasn’t a pickup line. If I was trying to pick you up, you’d know about it.”

“Oh, I know about it, baby. Don’ worry,” Vanessa hit back instantly, Brooke taking the pet name like a fatal shot. Brooke knew that Vanessa knew what that word did to her in the right context with the right tone. Fuck. Bad idea, bad idea. She was determined not to lose whatever game this was. She would not do anything stupid. She would not ruin the tiny, small beginnings of this foundation of their friendship that they were gradually re-building. She would stand up and go inside and watch Whoopi fucking Goldberg dance about in a fucking habit and all would be right with the world again.

“Two and a half years, huh? You had it bad, bitch, I never knew I had that kind of effect on you,” Vanessa laughed suddenly, Brooke trying not to blush as she remembered Plastique’s words from earlier.

“Not that you’re letting it go to your head,” Brooke shrugged, taking a sip.

Vanessa giggled again. Brooke wished she wouldn’t. “Never.”

“Good compliment for you, I guess.”

“Better than beaud,” Vanessa smirked, snorting a laugh as Brooke tipped her head back and cringed. As she quietly stopped laughing, Vanessa shrugged lightly. “An’ I mean, nice to know I’m the hottest girl in the room too.”

Brooke let out a small sigh at having to confront her decision. “I mean just because we’re not dating any more doesn’t mean it’s not objectively true. By Western beauty standards you probably are the hottest girl in the room.”

Vanessa laughed again. “Western beauty standards, my God. I’m not even white, you dumb bitch.”

“Yeah, but…you’ve got this gorgeous skin, and all your shiny hair. And your eyes that go all twinkly when you’re happy,” Brooke explained. Where was all this coming from? “And you have perfect white teeth, and the best smile. I feel like you light up the whole room when you laugh.”

Brooke’s heart gave a twinge as Vanessa’s face broke out into a smile, tilting her face to the side a little inquisitively. Brooke gave a little cough, aware of all the compliments she’d given her. “And you have a really good figure as well, so, yeah.”

“Oh, obviously. Well, we all know how much you like that,” Vanessa smirked cheekily, Brooke suddenly snapping her neck round to face her properly.

“What?”

“Liked that. Like, liked. Whatever. We’re friends now, we can laugh about it,” Vanessa shrugged, the words coming out of her mouth confirming their status at once relieving Brooke and putting her on edge. They were back to being friends. This was what Brooke wanted, right? Vanessa still had the little cheeky grin on her face as she spoke again. “Friends who still kiss each other, apparently.”

“Well, you kissed Scarlet,” Brooke said, trying to make it as nonchalant as possible. Judging by Vanessa’s smug reaction, she hadn’t succeeded.

“You seem pressed.”

“Not pressed! Just saying,” Brooke tried to protest gently but felt she came on way too heavy.

“Mhm. There’s just one problem about all this, though…” Vanessa murmured, her tone charged with something that immediately made the hairs on Brooke’s arm stand on end, giving her goosebumps.

And then, with one fluid movement, Vanessa moved to straddle her.

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit.

Brooke’s heart almost flatlined as Vanessa spoke, her face still wearing the tiniest cocky smile that Brooke so badly wanted to kiss off of her. “It’s kinda hard to try an’ be friends with you when I know what you look like with no clothes on.”

Brooke tried her best to keep her voice level. “Well, it’s also kind of hard to try and be friends with you when you’re flirting with me.”

“It’s also hard to be friends with you when I know what your kinks are…” Vanessa brought her arms around Brooke’s neck and barely concealed a smile as she bucked her hips ever so slightly. “…Mami.”

Brooke felt the tiniest hiss escape her lips, glad it wasn’t the fuck that had immediately popped into her head.

“It’s kind of hard to be friends with you when you’re riding my thigh…or when you’re coming on to me like this,” Brooke replied, keeping one hand firmly on the side of the hot tub and the other wrapped around the glass bottle in her hand so tight she thought it would smash.

“Coming on to you?” Vanessa suddenly tipped her head back and laughed, Brooke immediately realising what she’d said. “That can be arranged, you want face, tongue or fingers?”

“Fuck’s sake, Vanessa,” Brooke laughed softly, letting one of her hands drop down under the water and rest against Vanessa’s thigh. As Brooke’s thumb rubbed at her skin softly, she tried to reason with herself. Just because she was stroking Vanessa’s skin, and had her on top of her, and was basically talking dirty to her, didn’t mean that anything was actually going to happen.

“I know you miss me, Brooke,” Vanessa said, her tone matter-of-fact as she straightened up a little in Brooke’s lap, Brooke eyeing the way her breasts were pushed up.

Brooke had to think carefully about her response. She knew she’d hurt Vanessa, so she had to keep things light. “I mean, it kind of looks like you miss me, baby.”

Oh fuck, that pet name was a mistake. Vanessa’s smile was sultry as she pushed one of her hands into Brooke’s hair. “Me? Nah, I’m just doin’ this because it’s fun. Monique’s treatin’ me very well.”

Jesus fucking Christ, Vanessa knew how to hit Brooke where it hurt. Brooke pursed her lips. She wanted to fight dirty, she would give as good as she got. “And that’s why you’re cheating on her?”

Vanessa burst out laughing. “Oh, bitch, please! Me and her aren’t exclusive! We ain’t even a thing! She vents to me about her ex, I vent to her about you, and then we fuck away our frustrations!”

A part of Brooke’s heart soared up into the black sky like a helium balloon. She didn’t think she’d shown her relief on her face until Vanessa gave a laugh. “So. You ain’t denied it.”

“Denied what?”

“That you miss me,” she shrugged, giving a little look down at Brooke’s hands on her thighs. Brooke couldn’t pinpoint when she’d brought the other one down under the water but apparently she had done. Her throat was dry as she considered her response. Before she could get there, Vanessa threw her mind into chaos as she brought her hands back behind her head, fidgeted for a moment, then suddenly threw her bikini top across the decking. As Brooke’s gaze flicked down to Vanessa’s full breasts, the other girl brought one finger up and tilted her chin up to face her. The heat between Brooke’s legs was unbearable, and she felt her paper-thin resolve rapidly melting away. Vanessa smirked. “You wanna kiss me so bad right now, don’t you? Like you kissed me earlier. You can’t even stay away.“

Vanessa seemed to edge closer to Brooke, although they were already so close that seemed an impossible feat. Brooke raised an eyebrow. “See, I feel like if Monique fucked you as good as you say she does, you wouldn’t be in my lap right now.”

Vanessa blinked slowly, mockingly. “Oh, baby. You don’t want to know the things I let her do to me.”

Brooke bristled. The tension between them and Vanessa’s teasing was getting her riled. “You’re right, I don’t.”

“Aww. You jealous, baby?” Vanessa pouted. This was going to drive Brooke insane. Her mind constantly swung between this being a bad idea and a good idea, and she had no idea which it would settle on.

Brooke locked eyes with Vanessa, the other girl’s gaze a challenge. “No.”

“You sure? You seemed jealous when I kissed Scarlet earlier, I saw your face.”

“I don’t get jealous,” Brooke repeated, holding her gaze with Vanessa. Their faces weren’t too close but their bodies were, and Brooke felt as if she was a ticking time bomb.

“So you ain’t jealous of Monique?” Vanessa murmured inquisitively. Brooke shook her head, now unable to tear her gaze away from her lips which had felt so perfect against her own earlier. “You ain’t jealous of the fact she gets to ride my face and get my pretty lil’ tongue working her clit? You ain’t jealous of the fact that it’s her name I’m crying out when I cum on her fingers? You ain’t-”

Frustrated, tense, and out of willpower, Brooke let out a low growl as she finally brought her hands up to Vanessa’s jaw and crashed their lips together, kissing her wildly and deeply and running her hands over every inch of Vanessa’s skin she was able to touch. She didn’t even care that she’d proven Vanessa right, because she had missed this, missed her, missed the way they just seemed to fit together like two pieces of a puzzle and dear sweet fucking Jesus she’d been an idiot to give up this sex. Brooke whined needily as she felt Vanessa pull away, the other girl laughing against her lips.

“You don’t kiss like a girl who ain’t jealous,” Vanessa tutted, a satisfied smirk on her face. "Or one that don’t miss me.”

Brooke ran her hands up and down her back and pouted. “Shut up.”

“Hmm. That ain’t no way to talk to me if you’re planning on getting what you want, lil’ brat,” Vanessa raised her eyebrows, bringing one of her hands down to rub at Brooke’s hipbone. Brooke let out a whimper and bucked her hips. She needed Vanessa so badly, and her words were only making things worse. Or better.

“Fuck, please, Vanessa, shit,” Brooke hissed, not caring about how pathetic and needy she looked now as she brought one of her hands up and rubbed a thumb over one of Vanessa’s nipples. Brooke felt her clit throb as Vanessa gave a little hum of delight at the contact. Her fingers had only been there for a second before Vanessa grabbed her wrist and held it down under the water, the sudden force causing Brooke’s eyes to grow wide.

“You broke my fuckin’ heart an’ now you really think I’m gonna make it that easy for you?” she barked a laugh, a guilty twinge tugging at Brooke’s rapid heart. “Fuck that. I want to hear you beg me to fuck you. You’re gonna have to work for me, baby. Shit’s on my terms.”

“Fuck, Vanessa, I really don’t give a shit how desperate I sound,” Brooke sighed, the shock of the prospect of Vanessa changing her mind about all this lighting a fire in Brooke. “Please, please, please, please, baby, I’m sorry, I’ll do anything you want, just fucking touch me, please-”

Brooke cut herself off with her own moan as Vanessa ran a hand down her body and lightly pressed two fingers against her, rubbing gently and making Brooke want to sob.

“Good girl,” Vanessa purred, Brooke writhing underneath her and completely past the point of thinking about any of the consequences of any of this. “You miss me, don’t you?”

“Fuck, so much.”

“You been missin’ this?”

“Shit yes, so much.”

Vanessa’s eyes were dark as Brooke looked up at her. “Nobody’s gonna fuck you like me, are they?”

Brooke’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head, thinking that at this point if Vanessa asked her to get married she probably would’ve booked the damn venue. “No, only you, baby, fuck.”

“Mm, such a good girl,” Vanessa smirked, Brooke’s clit giving a spasm as she thought now was really not the time to realise she had a praise kink. “I don’t know, though. You seemed pretty sure you wouldn’t miss me when you ended things.”

“I do miss you, 'Ness, I promise, I’m sorry, I’ll beg on my knees if you want me to, I don’t give a fuck, you’ve been driving me crazy all night…so fucking perfect, shit…"

"Mm…you would look so pretty on your knees,” Vanessa leaned in and murmured into Brooke’s ear, pressing the lightest little kiss to her neck and almost sending Brooke over the edge before anything had even happened yet.

“I’ll do whatever you want, baby, fuck, I want you to feel like you’re the most gorgeous fucking goddess in the world,” Brooke gasped as Vanessa brought her other hand down to touch herself, the sight of her working Brooke and herself into a frenzy the hottest thing she’d seen in months. Her mind short-circuited, and she struggled to know if anything she said made any sense. “Jesus Christ, Vanessa, please fuck me, I can’t take much more-"

Pride glinted in Vanessa’s eyes before she leaned in and kissed Brooke, hot and wet with her fingers still rubbing and teasing her through the material. Pulling away, she motioned to the decking around the hot tub. “Lie back then, baby.”

As Brooke almost drove her face into the decking in her haste to scramble out of the hot tub she ignored the little voice in the back of her head that told her everything about this was a bad idea, and instead focused on the one that screamed it was the best decision she’d made in months.s

84 notes · View notes

lideria · 4 years

Text

Sugar Rush Love. | Haechan

Request: Hi hi can I request a fluff for Haechan or Mark? Thank you. Sorry I’m not super specific but I don’t have any ideas right now lol

Author’s Note: This was super fun to write! I really hope everyone who reads it enjoys it quite as much as I did while writing. Plus, just a heads-up, it is pretty dialogue-heavy, so I’m sorry if that’s not your type of thing :)

Warnings: One or a couple of curse words, brief mention of body form, comments on eating/mentions of stress eating, brief mention of injury, mentions of non-Ramadan-friendly content, and I think that should be it! Plus, English is my second language so there might be errors. Please let me know if there is anything else!

Word Count: 2493

Genre: Fluff, Angst if you squint, college!au, baseball!au, crushtolover!au

I hope you all enjoy!

“Sorry for waking you up and all but would you wanna have a picnic? Like some snacks, I guess?”

It had been maybe 2 hours since you had fallen asleep when Donghyuck calls. His voice makes it clear that he is wide awake at who-knows-what on a weekday. It somewhat worries you, but at the same time, he is always like this. Energetic. At unnecessary times as well. However, it still did kind of annoy you how he fancied the idea of a picnic at— you check your phone— “At 4 in the morning?”

“Why not? I’m craving a lot of stuff and it’d be sad if I went out to get a bunch of snacks just to eat them by myself. You like what I eat, no?” That was true. You both had likings for similar foods in general. Though, he was not the type to have snacks around this time. Especially around this time of the year, if you recall right. Maybe something was wrong with his mood?

His voice sounds just fine, though. So it cannot be that.

You sigh to yourself, defeat settling in, and turn on the light beside your bed. “Fine. Where do we meet?” A hand goes up to rub at your eye, triggering a yawn almost immediately. He takes a while to answer, sounds of shuffling in the background. “The field.” There comes a creak from his side. Possibly a door as it is followed by a loud slam. “It’s open at this hour?”

He chuckles. “It’s always open. The amount of freaks that go out on a jog at 2:30 in the morning.. you wouldn’t believe it.”

You grin knowingly. “For you to say it… Don’t you have to be one of them to know?” Silence.

Then, a dramatic sigh of annoyance. “Shut up. Wear something thick.”

You end up wearing an oversized hoodie over your pajama shirt and some much more presentable sweatpants before washing your face, brushing your teeth and rushing out to not keep him waiting. It is chilly outside, almost cold as the breeze hits your newly washed face. Lights are off for the most part. Silence calming yet bizarre.

There is something about living in a heavily populated area and going out at weird hours. Because as you stroll your way down to the field through the campus, the city outside the campus still as well, it feels like walking through a deserted city. As if the whole city is for you and you only. You could do whatever you want to do.

Some part wants to scream and pierce through the silence, but it is too perfect to ruin. It would be a shame.

The campus is big, but definitely cramped. Very cluttered and populous to the point that it feels small. It is only at times like these and when you are down with some kind of sickness when you realize just how much distance there is between the on-campus apartment complex and the fields. But it feels nice— the clutter. Almost makes it feel homey.

When you are a little more than halfway done with your walking you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You do not bother checking, because you know it must be Donghyuck texting you to hurry up or whatever. Then you look up.

And it dawns on you why he must have felt the need to go outside instead of hanging out in the dorm lobby.

The sky is incredibly clear— too good to be true in an area with high light pollution. A bunch of stars are visible, more stars than usual for sure. No clouds whatsoever. But also, no Milky Way. Yet it is still better than good enough, because the moon is full and is shining with all its glory and scars, and stars are twinkling in a rhythm what feels like a melody.

You continue to walk mostly with your eyes fixed on the sky, and if anyone asks you it is truly a miracle that you make it to the field without falling. Severely tripping, yes, but not falling.

It almost feels like he is not there when you push the doors and walk into the track circling the diamond because of how quiet it is. But there is a faint amount of light almost in the middle of the giant patch of grass with a body hunched over it, so you make your way over.

He does not get up to greet you. He does not have to. You sit on the grass that is definitely colder than the weather itself and throw your arm around his shoulders to give him a brief hug. He hugs you back, but you know. You know for a fact Donghyuck is annoyed. “Why don’t you look at your phone ever when I text you? I actually asked for something,” He laughs out a huff of annoyance and points a finger at the bag of snacks. “I forgot to get tissues. I’d send you back to go get some but I won’t because I’m a good friend.”

Friend. Funny. A friend who has a crush on you and does not bother to hide it, and a friend whom you have a crush on and do not quite bother to hide it from. Just a couple of crushing friends who will not take action. “It’s fine, we’ll just lick our fingers.” You say as he makes a move to pull out the snacks, interested in what he has brought.

There is a bunch of sweets, with definitely way too much sugar at this hour. Considering Donghyuck is already energetic and seemingly not sleepy, the oncoming sugar rush that awaits both of you is scary.

He breaks a chocolate bar in half. You cannot help the question that blurts itself out. “Isn’t season starting soon? Don’t you have to not be eating these?”

The half chocolate bar gets pushed onto your lips, as if to tell you to shut up, please. “Yeah. If coach doesn’t know it’s fine.”

You give him the look. He gives in under the pressure. “I’ve been eating lots of carbs and proteins for training season and oh my god, my diet is filled with bland foods. I want to taste something, and I’d much rather prefer it to be sweet.” He takes a bite which is almost all of the half he has in his hand. It makes sense he is frustrated. “I’ll just have to run harder tomorrow— today.” He places his arms on his knees that he has pulled to his chest, his arm clenching a bit. His words struck you harder than they should, and you frown. “One night won’t break your form.”

“I know. I just want to be at my best so I have a chance at getting picked up this season.” With that, he takes the other bite, and his half of the bar is gone. You lean back on your hand and look at him. What he said makes sense, but also does not. “There is no reason you wouldn’t get picked, you know? You’re so good at running, and your aim with the bat is sharp enough.”

Donghyuck leans forward to pull another snack— moon pies, and you laugh. “You sure you’re not stress eating?” He takes a look at you for a split second, hands you the pie even though you are not done eating the bar, and takes one out for himself. “If only you ate what I’ve been eating for the last several weeks, then you’d get me. Plus, my game is top notch when it comes to stress management.”

That brings a mixture of snorting and giggling out of you as you turn to look at his profile. “Sure. As if you weren’t screaming when Jungwoo told you—“

He turns to you in an instance, and the moon pie’s crumbs go everywhere when he speaks. “Not completing the track on time for like more than twenty times after you come back from an injury makes you panic. Rightfully so.” The crumbs stick to your face, even, and it is gross even if he is your crush. “Jesus, okay, ew. And also, of course it’d make you panic, but it was only a whole two seconds longer than your personal best. You did not need to scream that much.”

He shrugs and lets himself fall onto the field. It is then that you realize he is only in a t-shirt and a sad excuse of a cardigan. Which is very hypocritical of him if you do say so yourself. “It’s just… Baseball is what I do, you know? It keeps me on a scholarship, I’m actually somewhat good at it which is great because I for certain suck at my degree, and it’s what I want to do for the rest of my life. So it’s important for me to get picked up this season. Of course it’s okay if I don’t, because I’ll have the chance for another 2 years unlike Jungwoo, but the earlier the better.” The level of frustration grows with each sentence, and he keeps doing these hand gestures that cause his hands to flail around a little.

You also let yourself fall when he stops, but forwards on your stomach instead of backwards on your back. Your face is above Donghyuck’s as you lean your head on your propped up hands. “You wanna drop out once you get picked up?” It would make sense, really. He was not the one to keep good attention on his academics. Not because he does not want to, but because he just cannot do it.

He clicks his tongue and meets your eyes. When he speaks up, his voice is quieter. “Not really. If I get injured again it’s probably over for me, so,” The breath he exhales hits your face. “Gotta have a plan B.”

Both of you sit in the quiet breeze for a bit after that. Still snacking on a variety of his favorite snacks, you try to bicker with him. But instead, he asks you how school is going for you. You tell him the quizzes and the assignments and the group projects, and how nobody shows up for the group project meetings, and about your club life which is equally as exciting for you as baseball is for him, but the pace is definitely much more different.

“Are you even aware of the sky tonight? Look at all the stars— the moon, too.” You do it to direct the conversation anywhere else, because frankly, you both knew you did not want to talk about school at 4-something AM. He does look up, and smiles. “I was here before you came, so of course I’ve seen it.” Deep breath. “Really pretty, like you.”

You cannot even try to contain the smile. The blood rushes to your cheeks and hands. “Stop. I’m dressed in presentable pajamas and I’m every shade of ugly tired.”

“I’m here for it, personally.” He elites up his voice and places his hand on his chest a little before proceeding with his speech. “In my humblest of opinions, the pajama look is far better than the looks of whoever’s dating my upperclassmen.” Then, he goes serious again as you start to laugh at what you suspect to be the beginning of his sugar rush. “No seriously, some of the people they’re dating are actually intimidating. More than coach, even.”

“Oh so I’m not intimidating?” You ask, hand posted at your chest. He laughs slightly, almost uncomfortably. “Uh, no, you’re scary when you get angry.” Lucky for him he understands he is only making matters worse, and you laugh out loud more when he starts rambling. “Of course that’s not to say it’s bad, yours is a cool kind of intimidating. But they are there to support them, and after the games end it’s like they will take them home and punish them even if they’ve done good.”

“Some people are into that kinda stuff though.”

Donghyuck looks at you, genuinely disgusted. “No.”

The sheer horror and disgust on his face finally makes you burst into the sleepy-sugar rush laughter you had been holding back, and he starts laughing his fairly dumb sounding laugh along with you. “I’m not shaming whoever likes it but damn, let them celebrate, I don’t know—“

“The thing is, that’s their way of celebrating.” You manage out, holding your stomach as you laugh still, and even though both your stomach and your lungs were begging you to stop the laughter kept coming on stronger as his face dropped further with confusion. “That’s not what I meant— So what, if people look pissed at their significant others, that might be PDA too? That makes everything so complicated though.”

You are crying. At the dumbness of the conversation, and the 5-year-old energy of what you both find to be funny. He laughs as well, especially when your hands under your head give out and you fall on top of somewhere between his chest and shoulder. It takes a while for both of you to stop and come to your senses, and when you do, he asks you something with a smile audible through the words. “Would you come to my games for good luck?”

Wiping at your eyes, you answer with a shrug. “Maybe. But you need to answer something first.”

“Hm?” Your finger points at the sky within an instant. “What do you prefer, the stars or the moon?” He must be dumbfounded, because he does not answer for some time. “The stars, I guess?”

Faking an overreaction, you also fake your voice to sound harsh. “Wrong! There was a line, and you crossed it. I’m not coming to the games, hope you have fun.” You giggle again, the sugar really hitting you now, and maybe the lack of sleep since the moon has started to shift down a little. Donghyuck looks at you and frowns. “Don’t use that tone with me, or I’ll kiss you.”

The laughter is still not over, and your eyes hurt with the continuous laughter. You did not even know if that was possible. “No you won’t— you never do!”

But then he does.

Chocolate infused into his lips, hovering on top of you, he kisses you on the field. His lips are soft, the kiss not so much, but he is kissing you and oh god it is going on. He actually means to kiss you.

So you place a hand on his neck to just enjoy the feeling and to feel in the moment. Put a bit more of yourself on your part into the kiss as well. He smiles. When he is not smiling, you smile— and you just do that. Take turns smiling, silently celebrating the kiss because finally.

This was a pretty nice way of sobering up.

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #haechan #nct haechan #lee donghyuck #i got happy just by writing this so i hope you enjoy #although i dont think it has too much haechan energy #im trying my hardest bear with me loves #if you ended up skipping because of Ramadan but seeing these tags i hope youre having a great one #i hope fasting goes easy on you #and i hope you have an amazing month in these hard times

40 notes · View notes

punkpoemprose · 4 years

Text

December 5th- Secret Santa

Universe: Modern AU

Rating: G (General Audiences, fluff to the max)

Length: 5627 Words

A/N: It’s worth noting that I would probably get more pieces done if I kept my word count lower, but here we are. This lovely bit about volunteerism and falling in love proves, I think, that I have fully mastered the Hallmark Christmas movie formula. Thanks for being patient with me as I play catch up! Hopefully I’ll finish the rest of the fics I’ve started that were already supposed to be posted. Whoops!

The Bjorgman family was a large one, and it was no secret to anyone that their matriarch was always looking for “just one baby more” to join their ranks. It was how Kristoff had been adopted into the fold many years before, how his younger sisters and brothers, all adopted themselves, had come to be called as such. It was why every holiday was spent split between their family home and the small orphanage from which they all had been “found” by Bulda and Cliff.

The aged couple couldn’t really bring themselves to bring any new kids into the fold, but that didn’t stop them from finding ways to bring children into their family, and why Kristoff found himself lifting crates of apples off the back of his pickup truck, in the snow, to bring to the orphanage’s kitchens. Since his parents first realized they couldn’t have children themselves, since the day they found him eight years old with no family to call his own, they’d become the unofficial, official sunshine club for the children's home. They were forever coordinating donations, finding ways to organize events and trips for the kids, and Kristoff had grown up with the work being a part of him and a part of his life. Despite having been out from under his parent’s roof for three years, he never hesitated to find a way to help his family in their work to help the kids who weren’t so lucky as him and his younger siblings.

“Kristoff honey!” his mother yelled from one of the adjoining rooms as he dropped the final apple crate on the kitchen counter with the others. There were three more there, plenty enough for the amount of apple pies his mother planned to bake for their annual “desserts and dreams” program.

It was really just a party where the kids at the orphanage filled out their Christmas letters. It was a simple enough process, there was sugar and kids nervously writing usually very small requests on a piece of paper that they’d then hang on trees in local businesses and churches. Even people who couldn’t adopt a child could adopt their wishes for the holidays, and it was, generally something that they’d had great success with in the past.

Before his mother had stepped up, when he was still in the orphanage himself, there had been little celebration for the holidays. He still remembered the disappointment of no tree, no decorations but what he and the other children made themselves, and certainly the fact that there were no presents. But he remembered his first Christmas after being adopted clearer than that, he remembered how the whole house had seemed to glow with lights and tinsel and how he cried into his parent’s arms when he was given a present. It had been a lot to handle, and over the years he’d watched his younger siblings go through similar Christmas 180’s.

His parents hadn’t allowed another holiday without celebrating since for the kids in the orphanage. As they’d quickly learned their first year organizing the party, the year he’d turned 12, the community really did want to help give kids Christmas, they just didn’t know how. It had taken his mother and her fighting spirit to show them the way, and they hadn’t stopped since.

“Yeah Ma?” he shouted back, walking to the kitchen door to close it. It was flurrying out, and the last thing he needed was to hear about the puddles he’d caused by leaving the door open for a moment more than necessary.

“There’s a few new volunteers that need instruction. They just walked in, the rest of us are busy. Once you get the apples handled would you mind getting them on decorating?”

He huffed out a sigh, walking back through the kitchen, down the hallway and towards the room he assumed his mother was in. He wouldn’t tell her no. He couldn’t. Both because he really was unable to deny his mother any of her wishes, and because Bulda was not the type of woman who ever took “no” for an answer. Once she got something into her head, she was a woman on a mission until it got done. His father, Cliff, said that it was the whole reason they’d gotten married in the first place.

“She walked up to me in the middle of a football game and said ‘you’re gonna be my man’ and the rest is history”, was what he used to say. It was, truthfully, almost identical to the story of how he came to be their son. He still recalled her walking up to him, touching his cheek and saying “cutie, I’m gonna keep you”.

He was decidedly not his mother’s son. He knew the irony of that well enough, but it was true. Bulda was outgoing as the day was long, and he was not. Working with people was not necessarily his strong suit, but he would admit to it, and he considered that something. Kids he was alright with, but other adults he preferred to avoid. It was also why when he wasn’t helping his mother, he did carpentry work. Of course he had to talk to people in order to determine what they needed done, but they rarely wanted to hold much of a conversation and that was good enough for him.

“Ah Ma,” he said as he walked into to room, seeing his mother toiling rather heroically over a desk piled high with envelopes and legers, “why don’t you let me handle the math for a little while, you know I’m not good with…”

“Pish posh!” his mother said, waving him off with a smile, “You know I have to run the numbers six times myself before I’m willing to let anyone else double check me, and that’s your father’s job. Go on, it’s just a couple regulars and a new girl, you’ll be fine.”

He gave serious thought to telling his mother that her definition of “fine” and his must be very different, but when he heard one of his younger sister’s calling out for help he thought better of it. They, as they always did, had their hands plenty full without his hemming and hawing about a simple task.

“Yeah, but tell me if you need more heavy lifting done, if I hear you and Dad lifted anything over three pounds I’m going to skip Christmas dinner.”

Bulda, for her part, feigned shock as he walked away. They both knew he wouldn’t dare.

***

“I’m umm…” the girl before him, Anna, was already the most difficult volunteer he’d ever worked with. Not that he thought that she was trying to be difficult, but it was clear to him that whatever she did, it was not usually volunteering at an orphanage’s pre-Christmas party. He had to admit though, that besides his family and the handful of recurring volunteers they’d trusted over the years, there probably weren’t many people that could say they volunteered at an orphanage’s pre-Christmas party.

“I’m pretty good at making paper snowflakes?” she offered.

It had been a simple enough question, he thought. He’d just told her that she was supposed to help make or hang decorations for the party, and had asked what she was good at. He hadn’t thought it was a difficult question, or an involved one. He’d really just meant to ask her whether she wanted to decorate or whether she wanted to make the decorations, but it hadn’t come out that way, and so he had a rather nervous, but very pretty redhead looking at him like she was on foreign soil.

“Okay,” he said, deciding that even if he wasn’t good with people, he could be polite at least for his mother’s sake. “There’s… uh, paper and scissors over at the table, I’m sure you can figure something out. Thanks.”

He did his best to kind of gesture to the table in question and back out of the room slowly to go find somewhere else to be, but she caught onto his sweater sleeve.

“You’re not going to…”

He wasn’t sure whether she meant “stay” or “help” or both. Under any normal circumstance he would say no and walk away, to go do something else helpful that wasn’t arts and crafts with a stranger, but this situation was far from normal to begin with, and she looked panicked. He really wasn’t certain as to why she was even there. She looked a little too old to be the usual college or high school kids they got for community service hours, and she looked too young to be one of the rich types from the nearby city who came for the photo-op. There was something in her eyes though, a determination mixed with her nervousness, and that’s why he sighed and, without giving her an answer, walked over to the table.

***

She was good at making snowflakes. Or at least she was much better at it than he was. Hers were delicate things that looked like they had fallen straight from the sky themselves, he had made sort of squarish abominations with chunks missing that looked more chewed out than cut. She was giving him an A for effort, but had a feeling that not even his mother could truthfully come up with a compliment for what he'd created. But Anna did.

"You're getting better everytime!" She said holding up his latest attempt, "It looks a lot more circular than the last couple!"

Despite the fact that she'd shown him three times how to cut the paper to end up with a snowflake instead of a snow brick, he was still managing to come up with a mess. He appreciated her patience though and despite his earlier reservations, he was finding her easy and even enjoyable to talk to.

"So what do you do for a living Anna?"

It seemed, again, a simple enough question, but when he saw her face go flush he thought that maybe he'd managed to offend her.

"I uh... I'm unemployed at the moment. I just finished my degree in early childhood education though, so the goal is to teach."

He watched as she nervously ran her fingers over her braid, and tried to give her a reassuring smile. He had no idea how to talk to women, and while it seemed as if things had been going fine before he asked, he wasn't sure what he could do to make her more comfortable.

"That's great!" He said, trying to really show her that he meant it, "Volunteering with kids while you apply seems like a smart plan. My parents could write you a reference letter if you want."

She smiled shyly, "That would be nice, thank you. I'm just happy to help. I just really needed to do something that felt..."

She shrugged and looked to him for the word she was lacking.

"Meaningful?" He offered. It was the word he'd use to describe what he and his family did there. Rewarding and positive also came to mind, but at the end of the day, making something out of nothing for kids who barely had anything was one of the most important things he could think to do with his time.

She nodded and gave him a look of appreciation that he hadn't expected. She picked her scissors back up and went to work cutting another perfectly folded page.

"So do you work here?"

Kristoff shook his head. It felt like it most days really, especially during the holiday season when his mother and father seemingly had daily plans for the children housed there. Whether it was parties, organizing donations, crunching the budget to swing presents for children who hadn't received donations or taking nice photos of the children for various agencies to show perspective parents he almost always spent his evenings there. Oftentimes he showed up just to do a couple things and force his mother to go home. Some days she'd try to stay late into the night to get things done, and while he respected her greatly for it, she sometimes needed someone else to step in and make her rest. She often needed to be reminded that she couldn't save the world singlehandedly.

"No, I'm a carpenter. I used to live here though, before..." he didn't know why he was telling her. Normally most of the volunteers knew him. He was "Cliff and Bukda's boy" to everyone in the community and they all knew that he was adopted. He certainly didn't look at all like his parents. But Anna wasn't from the area as far as he could surmise and she was perhaps one of the first people he'd ever needed to tell.

"Oh... I'm so..."

He waved her off before she could continue.

"Oh don't be, please. It's not a sore subject or anything. I was adopted when I was eight, and we've been coming back ever since to volunteer and help out the other kids. It's also how I acquired several siblings."

Her concern was sweet, but entirely unnecessary. As he glanced over to the opposite side of the room where his younger siblings were working with other volunteers to cover tables, put up decorations, and prepare papers and pens for letter writing Kristoff knew for a fact that he was one of the luckiest men alive. That he was talking to Anna and that they both seemed to be enjoying the he conversation despite it's awkward "getting to know you" was an unexpected addition to his luck.

She smiled at that and pulled apart her folding to reveal another perfectly cut snowflake. "That's really sweet you know. My family doesn't really..." She shook her head and he decided not to pry, "I'm glad you do this, and that I have the opportunity to help. It means a lot."

Kristoff grinned, "Well for the kids it means even more than you know. Thank you for coming to help out."

The soft way she reached over to touch his hand after setting down the snowflake was wholly unexpected, and it caused his heart to race in an unfamiliar way. He could feel his face warming.

“No, I mean… I’m sure it does, but I was trying to say, being able to do this means a lot for me. If that makes sense? Does that sound selfish? I’m not really…”

She trailed off and lifted her hand from his. He wasn’t really sure why he flipped his palm and caught her hand in his as she was drawing away. It was instinct, he just didn’t want her to think he thought she was selfish for feeling good about what they were doing. He thought that she was the type of person who should feel good about doing good things, he wanted her to feel good, and that was foreign.

“It does make sense,” he said looking her in the eye, secretly glad to see that he wasn’t the only one blushing. “I mean… this feels good, right?”

He was confused when he saw her eyes go wide and when she gave him a shy grin.

“It really does.”

***

Kristoff still wasn’t sure how he’d ended up catching an early dinner with her. They’d been talking, and then his mom had pulled him aside with the good news that someone had sponsored all the kids, plus some. An anonymous contribution marked “from Santa” which meant that every child would receive not just one gift, but a few. It was generous to say the least, and they hadn’t expected it.

When he’d returned to her, smiling, and feeling very good about the world, she’d mentioned needing to grab dinner before the party started and he’d said that they could go together. He had to ask himself whether it was a date. He hadn’t been on a date since high school, and that really didn’t count because it had just been once and then he’d never really seen the girl again other than in lunch. That had been all he needed to know that he was abysmally bad at dating, but now sitting across from Anna as she mowed through a burger, he really considered the idea that trying again might be worth it.

“So you’re not from around here?” he asked, knowing the answer. It was a small town, everyone knew everyone. She was new and other than the fact that he’d heard through the grapevine, AKA his mother, that she had moved into the old Arendelle place, a large empty manor house that had been in town for years, but uninhabited since before he’d been adopted.

“Well not really,” she said before poking a fry in her mouth and chewing thoughtfully, “My parents grew up here, and my sister and I lived here when I was a baby, but I don’t remember it. I was raised in the city.”

He nodded, “Must be a lot different there, I’ve only ever just driven through.”

She sighed, “Too different. Everything is so fast there…” she took another bite of her burger and with her mouth only slightly full, continued, “My sister likes it, but there’s things about the lifestyle there I’d rather… move away from? If that makes sense.”

It didn’t really make sense. He didn’t know enough about what she could be talking about for it to be making sense, but it didn’t really matter. He’d never been so interested in hearing someone speak, save for his family, and sometimes he didn’t even have an interest so much as he had a love for them that made it worthwhile.

“I can’t say I get it,” he said with a shrug, “but it is a lot slower out here, if you want to get away from something, this is the place to do it.”

She smiled, “I’m just excited to get a fresh start, you know? It’s nice to meet someone who’s so different from…” she trailed off, “Well my ex, I hope you don’t mind my brining it up, it’s just a big part of why I’m here now. I want to be a better person than who I was.”

He didn’t mind. He didn’t think there was anything she could say to him that he would mind hearing.

“I don’t think you can do that,” he said and nearly choked on his coke when he realized what he’d said versus what he’d meant.

“I mean!” he sputtered, “I don’t think you can be better because you already seem really great.”

She laughed. It was a beautiful sound, even when she snorted and covered her face with her hand.

“Well,” she said still laughing, “That’s sweet of you, but I’m afraid you don’t know me very well.”

“I’d like to.”

She grinned broadly, “I’d like that too.”

***

His sister, ten years younger than him and not even a quarter of his size, was pulling him down the hallway of the orphanage their parents had adopted them both from.

“Kris!” she said once they were far enough away from the main room where the kids were eating apple pie and writing their Christmas lists with the help of the volunteers, Anna included, and had his sister not stolen him away, the pair of them as well.

“What is it Jemma, we’re supposed to be helping the kids,” he gave what he hoped was a disapproving look, not that it ever affected any of his younger siblings. He might be the eldest, but he had no power over them. He tried to play tough, but at the end of the day they walked all over him like a doormat and he loved them too much to fight it.

“That girl you’ve been with all day, I know who she is.”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, we all do. Her name is Anna, she just moved here, she’s going to start teaching preschool in town once Mrs. Hollis goes off on maternity leave.”

His sister looked at him like he was stupid, throwing in an eyeroll for good measure.

“No Kris, I mean I’ve seen her before, in a magazine.”

He snorted. “That gossip rag you like that Mom keeps threatening to toss out?”

She treated him with another eyeroll, and he wondered if he was half the sass she was when he was thirteen. Somehow, he seriously doubted it, but in his experience, all teens were difficult until they hit sixteen or seventeen and realized just how much they didn’t know yet. With a few exceptions, amongst which he liked to consider himself at that age, even if his mother and father might disagree.

“It’s not a…”

He shot her a look and she trailed off. Even she couldn’t deny that it was, in fact, a gossip rag.

“Fine. But shut up for a minute and listen to me. She’s an heiress. Her name is Anna Arendelle, her parents owned Arendelle industries and when they died it all went to her and her sister. No one knew much about them, but then she started dating this guy Hans Westergaard who comes from like a massive family of Hollywood agents and it became kind of a big deal because he was spotted out at parties and stuff cheating on her with other women but they were engaged and...”

He stopped her with a shake of his head, “Look Jem, I don’t know if you’ve got the right girl or not here, and even if you do, I don’t need to know her backstory, she’s just nice and she’s…”

She jumped in then, “No, you do need to know because she’s not ‘just nice’, she’s volunteers at an orphanage in the middle of nowhere and pay $100 per kid for Christmas presents nice. Also, she’s single.”

Kristoff did not like the thing that his sister was doing with her eyebrows, he also didn’t like that she was implying that he should have an interest in her that was financially motivated, but he supposed that at thirteen thinking that way was more normal.

He did his best to emulate her eyeroll and wrapped an arm around her, dragging her back down the hallway and into the fantastically decorated dining space where the party was in full swing. “Go help some kids write their letters Jem you little troublemaker and I won’t tell Mom that you snuck and found out the identity of an anonymous donor.” There was no malice in his tone, and they both knew he would do no such thing.

From across the room, Anna’s eyes met his and he couldn’t help but hold her gaze and smile.

He didn’t care that she was an heiress. He didn’t care that she had just gone through some kind of highly publicized breakup. It didn’t matter to him.

What mattered was that she was one of the only people he’d ever enjoyed talking to. What mattered was the smile she gave him from across the room and how much she’d enjoyed dinner with him, though his newfound knowledge did explain why after fighting over the check they’d gone Dutch. He didn’t care about what she had in a bank account. He cared about how the little boy sitting with her was giggling, and how when she looked at the boy and he told her something in return, he could hear her laughing too.

He crossed the room and was not particularly subtle about moving to help a child who was just a few seats from where Anna sat.

***

A couple weeks had passed, and another party was well on the horizon. This time, his mother had insisted that he and Anna finish wrapping the massive pile of toys and gifts that they’d been able to purchase with the “anonymous” donation they’d been grateful for.

Kristoff was fairly certain that only he and Jemma were really aware of who Santa was, but at the same time, he knew for a fact that his mother had set up her party plans to keep him and Anna together through the process.

So he’d helped her move some boxes into her house. So they’d gone out to dinner a couple more times since they met. He didn’t see what the big deal was given that he was just trying to be friendly. That he’d helped her fix a squeaky cupboard and thought he’d felt her eyes on his rear, and that he’d blushed furiously because he’d thought he’d felt her eyes on his rear meant nothing.

He suspected Jemma had said something to their mother about how good they looked together or something because his younger sister and mother had shoved them in a room, together, alone, for what was going to be a couple hours of work.

Anna, smiling as she wrapped, seemed to be unaware of their scheming at least.

“So I was thinking, one of the other volunteers told me that there’s a Christmas craft market in the next town over tomorrow, and you know there’s only a week until the big day and I have to find something unique for my sister and trust me, she’s the woman who has everything…”

Something he’d learned about Anna was that she was an over-explainer. When she had something to say, but was worried about how it would be received, she ran on about it for a while, trying to justify what she was saying, even if she only needed to justify it to herself.

“I’d like to go with you if that’s what you’re asking,” he replied, trying desperately to try to fix some of his crumpled wrapping to make it look even slightly attractive next to her flawless work. He thought that maybe he should only be tasked with things that could go in bags and perfect squares. Any other shapes and types of gifts were his holiday kryptonite.

She clapped her hands together and cheered, making him smile.

She plucked the gift from his hands, and he relinquished it gladly, relaxing as she masterfully straightened and primped the paper until the object resembled a gift instead of a wad of paper and tape.

“Good because I was hoping to get some things for the other volunteers and for your family and you know everyone better than I do.”

He laughed, “I think you give my social skills too much credit.”

It was sweet of her to think about getting everyone gifts. He was happy that she was starting, through their little menagerie of family and church ladies and local likeminded folk, to build some friendships in town. She was a nice girl, she deserved to have nice people around her. He still wasn’t sure if that really included him or not, but even if as she met people she was interested in him less and less, he was happy to have been one of the first people to welcome her into town.

“No, I don’t think I do,” she said with a grin, “People like you. Even if you don’t talk to them much, they really like you. The other volunteers have so many nice things to say.”

He shrugged. Most people had good things to say about his whole family. Cliff and Bulda were good people and they did their best to raise their children well. He supposed it made sense that he’d be included amongst someone’s praises of his family.

“But yeah, thank you for agreeing to come. I’ve been really enjoying spending time with you.”

He laughed at that, “That’s a new one.”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed, “I’m serious, you’re fun to be around. You’re no strings attached and that’s nice. It’s…”

She waved her hand in the air as she searched for a word, finally landing on “refreshing.”

“Not so many blunt people in the city then?”

“No,” she said thoughtfully as she handed him a football, something neither of them were going to attempt to put in anything other than a bag. “They were blunt, but everyone always wanted something from you. They’d be blunt and rude and whatever else they thought they could get away with, but there was always an ulterior motive. They always just talked to me to get to my sister or I was a walking net worth. I wasn’t a person they wanted to get to know. I was a means to an end.”

He frowned when he heard the emotion in her voice. He was not good with crying girls, not even his sisters, so when he looked up at her and saw tears in her eyes he set the football down and scooted across the space on the floor between them and did his best to give her a comforting pat.

It just made her tears fall faster.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as she leaned into him. They’d only known each other a short while, but already he was desperately connected to her. He’d thought that if she left his life as quickly as she’d come that he would be fine, but it was a lie, and he knew it. He was already falling for her, and that in and of itself was completely new territory.

He wrapped his arm around her as she leaned, his hand tentatively falling on her back in a comforting gesture. They were surrounded on all sides by gifts and wrapping paper and sundry and it struck him as a strange place to cry, but he didn’t think that telling her as much would help, so he just held on to her tightly.

“You shouldn’t be sorry,” she said, “You should be proud. You’re so nice to me and you don’t even get anything out of it.”

He smiled then, “I think you’re selling yourself short now. I get plenty out of being nice to you. Like you being nice to me. I don’t really have people lining up to be my friend you know, just Sven, and he’s a dog so he has to like me.”

She laughed at that, a little snort that accompanied her tears.

“But still,” she said, “I’m used to people wanting money from me… do you even know that I’m…”

“Rich?” he asked, then quickly added, “Jemma’s into gossip rags, but I don’t really care what they have to say about you. I don’t want money from you or anything like that, I just think you’re a good person Anna. Though, I will admit when we figured out you were Santa it did make me smile. What you did was very generous.”

She grinned then, still with some tears on her cheeks. “Ho, ho, ho?”

He laughed at that and pulled her in to his side a little tighter.

When she leaned up, looking determined, and asked him a question, he was surprised.

“What if I want something from you?”

He gave her a curious look. Her eyes were still a little wet, she was flushed and looked a bit nervous.

He responded quickly, because he knew the answer, “If it was something, I could give you, I would. Honestly I’ve been trying to figure out what to get you for the holidays since y—”

He didn’t get to finish what he was saying because she was shifting around and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. A quick one, but one that made it obvious enough what she was getting at.

He came to the sudden and sweeping realization that all the times he had asked himself whether going out with her and doing something was a date, she must have been asking herself the same.

“I don’t want to be that girl who leaves a relationship and hops right into another, but I really like you a lot Kristoff,” she said, nervously overexplaining herself again in a way he thought was beginning to find endearing, “I just think that maybe this is worth giving a shot? I think that you like me too, and if not that’s okay I think we’re good friends, and I know we’re still getting to know each other and everything but I just really want to take a chance because—”

He took a chance then too, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her lips. When her arms wrapped around him and she leaned into the kiss, he knew he had made the right choice.

Her lips were soft against his and when their noses bumped together the soft laugh she treated him to, caused him to melt. She was perfect, and he counted himself the luckiest man on Earth that his Ma had forced him to be social a couple weeks before.

When the kiss broke, his forehead rested gently against hers and one of her hands moved from his back to card through his hair gently.

“Did you do that because you wanted to? Or because of the mistletoe?”

Though she asked the question, her voice was so full of mirth that he knew she was teasing. However, when he looked up and saw that there was, indeed, mistletoe hanging above them, he knew he had his mother and sister to thank.

When Anna started laughing though, he knew he couldn’t be mad about their interference.

“I noticed it when we walked in. I picked the spot on purpose,” she said, continuing to giggle as she spoke, her fingers leaving his hair to press against her lips as she blushed, “I was hoping you’d do that.”

He grinned in return. “I’d happily do so again… if you want me to, that is.”

She didn’t waste anytime closing the gap between them, presents at their sides forgotten for later. He’d never been so glad for a new volunteer in his entire life.

#kristanna advent 2019 #kristanna #fluff #this is a kissing book #this is basically a Hallmark Christmas Movie in condensed form #I'm not responsible for any tooth rotting as a consequence of consumption you have been warned this is some saccharine meet cute

64 notes · View notes

apprenticenerd · 3 years

Note

"Anyone can send me an ask with one of the titles and I’ll post a snippet or talk about that WIP!" The Acropolis, Tacet, Checklist, A Tiny Galaxy, Hearsay, Going Back, Ella Disenchanted, Making Peace, The Slashed Circle, Wake Up, Tenno, Midnight, Heliotropism, Arrhythmia, the one about Among Us, the one about Library of Ruina, the one that’s a D&D world concept. Yes, all of them. I know you wanna talk about all of them. So go, go forth and do it!

Hoooo boy, this is gonna be a long post. Lots and lots of writing snippets under the cut to avoid dash stretch!

The Acropolis - original - length uncertain - 1.4k and counting

im not ready for this im not i thought it would be yrs i thought id at least get an english degree first

omg sal whats goin on

fuckin hell whyd it have to be now i have a chem lab tomorrow

sally-tate macpherson. u never swear. ever. wtf is goin on.

ok. jess. i need u to listen really really carefully. understand?

answer the goddamn question ur scarin me

shut up and listen and this will go a lot better

fine but u need to tell me wtf is happnenig

ok. im going to tell you a bunch of stuff. not giving u advice, thats not allowed, but im gonna tell u stuff it seems like itd be impossible for me to know.

?????????????

i said shut up this is really important dont question how i know it. just go with it and figure out what to do. and dont die. bc no matter how crazy stuff seems, if u die, ur dead. here and everywhere. ok?

This is an original story coming straight from a @/writing-prompt-s prompt about a crack in a kid’s hardwood floor that they fantasized was a portal actually being one. I originally intended to write the entire thing like this, as a conversation over text, but that may not be feasible given a certain world-building detail at the other end of the portal (and the limits of my creativity lmao).

---

Tacet - The Blackout Club - one-shot - 3.2k and counting

She closed her eyes again, and there it was. Hallucination? Some new science trick with electromagnetic radiation off the visible spectrum? Evidence that she was actually going insane? Whatever it was, it burned behind her eyelids in bright, incontrovertible red - and was completely invisible when she opened her eyes again. There was just the usual mess of club posters and one big one about someone’s exceedingly dumb-looking lost cat.

Eyes open, there was only Sargent Snuggles. Eyes closed, there was the normal darkness and then three lines of text where the poster had been, wavering like scarlet fire:

JOIN TBC JOIN TBC JOIN TBC

TBC? What the fuck was that? She’d never heard of any group with that acronym before. Hardly aware of the flurry of weird looks from half the other people in the hallway, she crossed the hall to examine the lost cat poster more closely. It felt like perfectly normal paper when she touched it, and there wasn’t even a hint of red with her eyes open, unless you counted the cat’s tacky pink sweater. How the hell was this even possible?

“You’re finally cracking, Bri,” she groaned under her breath, then headed for her locker. She did have to get home. Add another big fat entry to the weird shit list.

A backstory one-shot for my Blackout Club OC Briar, telling the story of how she got into the club in the first place. I’ve been stuck in the same spot for a while now, after Briar’s friend Dani explains the club to her, and I’ve come to the conclusion that the scene’s over as is. Of course, writing the next one is the tough part.

---

Checklist - The Blackout Club - one-shot - 1.7k and counting

8. You still have a headache. Shouldn’t you go back to sleep and try to do this in the morning?

9. (wake up)

10. Nah, you’ve always been a night owl, and school starts criminally early, too early to get much done beforehand. It’s quiet, except for Dad snoring. Your parents are asleep already. You can stay up until this is done, and they’ll be none the wiser.

11. Your head hurts worse. It’s getting harder to think. At only 9 pm? 9:30? Whatever. You should sleep.

12. (wake UP)

13. What are you thinking? You have to read at least a little of this chapter, or there’s no way you’ll be able to bullshit your way through class tomorrow. Besides, all of a sudden, the silence feels...strange. Heavier? You can’t describe it.

14. You need to sleep. You need a drink of water or something. You need to finish this damn homework. You need to sleep. You need to sleep.

15. Stare at The Great Gatsby. It doesn’t make sense. Nothing makes sense.

16. Realize what’s up with the silence. Dad’s not snoring anymore. You aren’t feeling like yourself. You need to sleep.

17. Something’s weird.

18. (WAKE UP)

19. ...No. Something’s wrong.

Another Blackout Club story and another Interface Screw, as it were, this time in the form of a (very long) checklist. None of the characters have names (yet). It describes another way a kid could find themself running around at night with the Blackout Club, this time by fighting off the Song just enough to run into a club member who could wake them up the rest of the way. As with Tacet, I still need to write the suspenseful part.

---

A Tiny Galaxy - Warframe - 4 chapters planned, 1 complete, 1 in progress - 7.8k and counting

Try it if you don’t believe me, the kid in the vent had said.

It was impossible. It was physically impossible. All of this was impossible. Had the Void...? Could the Void...?

The ship was at a standstill. Her mother had tried to kill her, and something had happened. She’d made something happen. There had been no holoprojector in that kid’s hand. Nothing was impossible anymore.

Jhia took a deep breath. How the heck was she supposed to do this? Was she supposed to feel something, some internal guide? Blue Hair hadn’t said. Feeling incredibly stupid, she did a quick mental checkup on herself. Nothing felt wrong, or different - but now that she thought about it…

Afterward, she would try many times to explain it, and fail every time. The best she could come up with was that once she found the Void, calling on it was as easy and as natural as breathing. She opened her hands in front of her, concentrated on that force like an extension of herself, reopened her eyes, and there it was: a riotous little ball of energy, wisps and motes of light and not-quite-light like a tiny galaxy, the Tau system in the palm of her hand, raging.

More OC backstory time! This one’s for my Tenno, a nerdy fourteen-year-old (at the time of this story, anyway) by the name of Jhia, going through the hell that is the Zariman Ten-Zero and what happened on it. This is possibly the first part of the story I actually wrote: the roll-credits moment when Jhia realizes the Void’s changed her more already than she thought.

---

Hearsay - Lobotomy Corporation/Library of Ruina - one-shot - 1k and counting

"Oh? Did they investigate further?"

"They tried. Found a few fingerprints, but they didn't match anyone in the database."

"What's the update, then?"

"Reports from elsewhere in the district of someone not in uniform carrying a Zwei sword. They're slippery, good at avoiding us, which would suggest Syndicate operative to me and HQ. Except that in every one of the descriptions we managed to get, our sword thief is a child."

"What? How?!"

"You tell me, Iona. You're the one who went to the crime scene."

"Right... Jeez, if it's a kid, I guess that'd explain why Petrov thought they weren't a threat..."

"My thoughts exactly. HQ has a fair amount of hearsay to go on, but nobody can quite agree on how old the child is, or whether or not she's with a Syndicate. Most agree that she appears to be a girl, tall for a child, auburn hair, clothes and demeanor typical of a Backstreets native."

"We got a name?"

"They've heard Yeri, Kali, Redbird, Suma, Aelfin... No one knows which is her real one, or if it's even any of them at all."

"Damn. ...Say, are you going to drink that entire pot of coffee?"

"Help yourself."

This is one of those stories that turned into an accidental AU when more of canon came out. The idea behind it is that it’s Kali’s backstory told entirely in conversations in which she did not participate, showcasing the fact that a Fixer’s fame is their livelihood and Kali was about as famous as they come, before the whole L Corp thing happened. Of course, the vast majority of the headcanons here got invalidated with a certain Ruina update, so my motivation’s kinda down on this one.

---

Going Back has already been talked about here!

---

Ella Disenchanted - The Blackout Club - one-shot (maybe two-shot??) - 1.4k and counting

She woke. Her stomach went through a series of panicked flip-flops as she thought something strange had done it, Dad or a little-kid-nightmares shadow beast had made noise, but no - why had she fallen asleep in the first place? Her butt and shoulder were sore where they’d been leaning on the bottom and side of the windowsill, presumably all night, since the sun was full up over the trees on Old Growth Hill.

All night. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t fall asleep, but she did anyway. God dammit.

As she unfolded herself from her cramped ball, though, she froze. Under the comforter she’d pulled around her shoulders for warmth, she was wearing her gray jacket, a T-shirt, jeans, sneakers getting dried mud all over the carpet.

Last she remembered, she’d been in her pajamas.

In which a Blackout Club kid’s little sister wonders where he’s gone when he runs away to the boxcar, and tries to get to the bottom of the mystery herself. Usually she’d be too young for the club to recruit, but her investigations and an incident involving SAO are more than enough extenuating circumstance. Unlike most of my other WIPs, there’s a whole outline at the end of my doc for this one.

---

Making Peace - Warframe - multi-chapter - 1.5k and counting

“I…” Iksoh finally said. “Sorna, I hope you realize. I’m not into this. I never - I’m not doing this. Whatever you’re doing, I can’t.”

“I know,” Sorna said softly. The decision tore at her heart again and she almost backed out of the vent, but no. She had to go. She wouldn’t see another innocent crumple in her rifle sights. “I hope you realize. I’m not coming back.”

Behind her, Iksoh let out a long, shaky breath. “It’s taking all I’ve got not to report you right now. Sorna… the Queens’ll have my head for this. Please, please, let it be worth it. Go. Don’t let them take yours.”

“I won’t,” Sorna promised, and meant it.

Later, after her last fight for her freedom was done, on the Steel Meridian ship headed for Kronia Relay, Sorna looked out at the planet retreating behind her and thought of Iksoh. She’d just learned a new word from a Meridian soldier: vaykor tal, the defector’s spirit. Iksoh had let her go, at risk of their own life. They’d had a bit of the vaykor tal themself, even if they hadn’t known it, even if they’d thought it was just some weakness that was bound to get them killed.

“Ranre treri, duf krun,” she whispered into space, a Grineer well-wishing passed down from sergeant to tube-fresh lancer since time immemorial. May your hands be steady, and may life be kind.

This is an AU born of me and some friends wondering why in the heck Perrin and the Meridian hate each other so much in game. It’s about a group of Kavor - Grineer defectors distinguished from other Meridian members by their pacifism - who get to a Relay and start wondering the same thing. Besides Sorna (and, later in the story, Iksoh as well), there would have been Chakh, Beket, and Sydon, plus at least four of the syndicate leaders and a bunch of side-character OCs, all caught up somehow in what turns out to be a surprisingly far-reaching web of intrigue.

The Slashed Circle - Warframe - one-shot, probably - 429 and counting

In addition to their written and spoken language, the Grineer have a full language of hand signs. It has its quirks, as all languages do - be careful of confusing it with the Corpus sign language, in which the sign for “to pay” roughly approximates the Grineer sign for...a certain portion of the male anatomy. Among these is the common Grineer sentiment against those who defect from their ranks, baked into the sign just as much as their spoken words.

The sign of the slashed circle, the sedashkur - a finger drawn in a circle on the chest, followed by a diagonal line - is the highest of taboos to any loyal Grineer. It shows support for such scum as the Kavor and Steel Meridian, enough so that it forms the basis for the Meridian’s battle standard. To sign the sedashkur is to betray your siblings, commit a grave insult to your superiors, paint a near-indelible target on your back. It is an object of hatred and fear throughout the ranks.

She fears it, yes, but she does not hate it, for all her life and into her death as well. It shouldn’t trouble her now, though. It is easy to hide a language, and she burned her journals before she was called to the fortress.

This is a fic about Jhia and her one (1) converted Kuva Lich, namely about the process of said Lich’s defeat and defection, that kinda never got off the ground. Contrary to this snippet, I think most of it would have been written in what are essentially space emails back and forth between Lich and Tenno? I definitely got as far as Jhia sending an audio recording of a bass-boosted dog fart, anyhow.

---

Wake Up, Tenno - Warframe - one-shot - 950 and counting

“Wake up, Tenno.”

She wakes. She is - she is Tenno, right? She is a Tenno? Her mind is confused, so full of fog and dead ends - how long was she asleep?

The voice that woke her seems familiar. She might have loved the speaker, in her scrambled past life, the woman in the purple helmet, the one called Lotus in her HUD vision. Her surroundings are a ruin of some sort. Her body is—

...what?

She can move just fine. Her fingers and arms and legs respond with suspicious ease, given how long she must have slept to be this scattered upon waking up, and yet there’s some fundamental disconnect. This is her Warframe, her body, but it’s not her body somehow.

...wait, where did the term “Warframe” come from?

A Tenno, unnamed but intended to be Jhia on my end, wakes up on Earth at the very beginning of the in-game storyline. Since the tutorial has gotten an overhaul in recent months, I may have to modify even what little I have on this a lot.

---

Midnight - Iconoclasts - poem - 280 and counting

been anything smaller than been anything

never been anything smaller than

“good morning, how’s miss grump doing today? i heard about that last mission...if you didn’t sleep well i can call you in sick, it’s alright-” “oh, shut up, grey”

there has never been anything

“oh, shut up, grey” “love you too”

smaller

“love you too”

than

A very fragmented, stream-of-consciousness-y poem meant to represent Agent Black’s failing sanity near the end of the game. The words of her famous one-liner (“there has never been anything smaller than me”) are interspersed, out of order until the end, with poetic descriptions of other characters and bits and pieces of a flashback involving Agent Grey.

---

Heliotropism - Iconoclasts - one-shot - 1.1k and counting

Lily, though she’s superstitious, will have none of these self-important truths, none of these semblances of certainty when really all it is is wishing on Ivory and hoping for the best. She calls for Miss Andress instead.

A stout but severe woman with ten grandchildren and a great-grandchild on the way, Miss Andress is perhaps the quintessential matriarch: nurturing, selfless, brutally honest. She is the one the people of 17 trust when they feel they can trust no one else. Lily needs the kind of reassurance only she can give, with the authority of ninety-one years and the wisdom of two sons, one daughter, and some five dogs raised under her care.

When Miss Andress visits House 4, she asks Polro and Lily to each bring an object they cherish the most. For Polro it’s his largest wrench, pitted with use but still polished to a brassy shine; Lily surprises everyone by pulling out a tiny, unloaded stun-gun, and surprises them more by not explaining it at all. Miss Andress doesn’t question it. She just turns the two tools over and over in her hands, head bowed, squinting at them as if trying to read the secrets of the universe in the scratches carved into them by time.

Finally she straightens up and sighs, pushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear. Her forehead is slick with sweat, though the night is cool outside. “I don’t know what she’ll do,” the wise woman says, heavily, as if delivering bad news. “I just know she’ll change the world.”

Can you tell I like backstory fic? This one is for Robin, with one short anecdote for each year of her life, up to age 17 and the events of the game. It’s also an excuse to world-build a bunch, lol.

---

Arrhythmia - Crypt of the NecroDancer - one-shot(?) - 4k and counting

The creature didn’t say anything, just beckoned to the shadows. Before I could move, two other creatures came for me, sending the other humans - former humans? - scrambling away in panic. One landed a hard blow on the back of my head that sent me to my hands and knees, seeing sparks; the other said “Freeze!” and I could only watch as ice sprouted from the leaf litter, cementing me to the ground.

The one who’d hit me produced a dagger from the inside of its cloak. I tried to pull myself up, to do anything at all to keep myself from getting shanked, but it was no good. There must have been a secondary effect on that spell; my limbs wouldn’t respond. I felt the dagger tear cloth in the region of my back, and prepared for the pain.

It didn’t come. The creature cut a slit in the back of my tunic, then another. Neither one touched the skin at all. I can’t really describe what happened next - my brain was having trouble computing how my arms were in front of me, visible, unable to move, but it felt like the creature was pulling them through the gashes in my tunic, but that was wrong, they didn’t feel like arms at all.

“Holy fuck,” I heard someone say.

The ice holding me down melted into nothing as the spell wore off. I jumped back up, head spinning a little, ready for another fight, only to spot two flicks of scarlet in my peripheral vision. I spun around, but they moved with me.

I think I already knew what they were. I just couldn’t admit it to myself.

You’ve already seen this one, Nick, though I’m pretty sure it was well over two years ago. It’s a pile of old headcanons, some of them now outdated I’m pretty sure, about how Nocturna ended up a vampire in the first place and a little bit about how vampire society works. According to Google Docs, I’ve been stuck on this one since March 2018. Whoops.

---

untitled (working title “adult citra meets an impostor bc what is self-control”) - Among Us - one-shot - 572 and counting

“I know. You’re stuck, aren’t you?” Having well and truly gotten their full attention, Citra continues, “God, I can barely imagine. Having to take a weird-ass host whose biology might even be toxic to you, I don’t know. Needing to get to a whole other galaxy, feeling like the only way to do that is by deception and death.” “How…?”

She sighs. “I told you, this isn’t my first rodeo. One of your kind saved my life when I was a kid. Since he’d killed Mom and Dad had been out of the picture long before, he stayed here and helped raise me afterward. It’s how I learned to pronounce...a few of your words, at least.”

“You missed the ‘H’ sound.”

“Isn’t that the one that’s literally impossible to do right with Terran anatomy?”

“Maybe. You think I know Terran anatomy all that well?”

Citra chuckles. “Fair point. You let us find your buddy and fix the ship, I’ll raise Xai when we get comms back and he can try and help you get home. Deal?”

I found an Among Us comic on Tumblr, absolutely ran into left field with it to make a couple of OCs, and then made AUs of those OCs because of course I did. This one is from a future scenario in which Citra (typically orange) meets someone rather familiar on a mission with the crew of the Skeld.

---

untitled (working title “library of ruina but they adopt half the guests”) - Library of Ruina - length uncertain - 1k and counting

“And what happened to not caring about others because it’s a waste of time and heartache?”

Now it’s Roland’s turn to sigh. “I don’t care about him. I just don’t want the guilt of killing - look at him, he can’t be older than eighteen or nineteen!”

Raised eyebrow. “Finn will be twenty years old in fifteen days’ time. He is a legal adult. I fail to see why this should matter to either of us.”

“He’s fresh off his first Fixer license! I have years of experience! He had no idea what he was getting into when he signed that invitation and you know it!”

Angela fixes him with a glare that turns his stomach, his freshly remade body reacting to the memory of its sudden, and extremely painful, dismemberment. “I could quite literally hold your soul in my hands if I wanted,” she reminds him in an undertone of steel. “I must do the same for him, following the invitation’s guidance, or my entire plan will be lost, my coworkers’ sacrifices all for naught. Do not disappoint me or ask any more impertinent questions. You know what to do, and what will happen if you do not.”

Look, some of the people you fight in this game deserved so much better, okay? I came up with an AU concept where if a guest willingly concedes the fight and agrees to stick around, you can get their book without killing them. Finn doesn’t die; neither do Tomerry or Shi Association; all the former employees realize exactly what’s going on with Philip after the Wedge Office fight and manage to calm him down, avoiding the whole Crying Children situation. (And then Gebura makes him collect his jaw off the floor by revealing herself as the Red Mist.)

---

The one that’s a D&D world concept doesn’t have anything concrete written for it yet. (Don’t read this bit if you might want to play in my campaign at some point!) Instead of your typical Forgotten Realms planar setup, the world at large would be called the Seven Spheres, each of them different in terms of climate, geography, native species and magic, etc. The First Sphere would be the most “generic” one (to our way of thinking) and the main setting of the campaign; it would also be the smallest of the Seven, its primary continent home to a former empire of dragons that spanned most of the Sphere until its mysterious fall a thousand years ago.

Now, since the empire fell, the dragons and their children have slowly been dying out. Best estimates are that there’s only a thousand or two left in the entire First Sphere, with fewer eggs hatched every decade. The player characters enter a world with pretty typical low-level quests to start with, but every so often, especially if they engage with optional story stuff (this would be a more roleplay-focused than combat-focused campaign), they get wind of changes in the air - a failed harvest here, an unusually hot and stormy summer there, a trade war once they start hitting mid-levels.

It mimics real-world climate change in all but cause. As coastal cities struggle to contend with rising seas and, more alarmingly, wizards all over the Sphere start to notice their magic falter and wane, the PCs’ goal becomes getting to the bottom of this. And what’s at the bottom is...your typical Nerd fusion of science with fantasy settings.

The Seven Spheres are not planes of existence in the normal D&D sense, but seven planets in the same solar system, each with its own ancient god far more powerful than any god in any mortal pantheon; the First Sphere is so named because it’s closest to the sun. These planetary gods are incredibly large and incredibly alien, thinking in geologic time and concepts far too broad and slow for most sapient beings to comprehend. A thousand years ago, the fall of the dragon empire was caused by an ill-advised ritual meddling with the god of the First Sphere’s natural process of rebirth, causing said god to die without a replacement.

It’s taken this long for the First Sphere to feel the effects because, again, geologic time - a thousand years is a blink of an eye in this kind of time scale. But now the ancient earth-magic that had kept the Sphere’s climate temperate and its magicians in business is failing. The dragons, as beings of magic intrinsically, have been failing all along. And now it’s up to the PCs, up at level 17-20 if not higher by that point, to figure out how to fix the situation and find a new planetary god for the First Sphere before the whole Sphere burns to death.

#bulletnick #wow this got long #you're right i did want to talk about all of them though

1 note · View note

aewriting · 4 years

Text

Fem/slash February

So... I've been seeing posts about fem/slash February. And one of the things about this fandom that I've really valued is that it has pushed me outside of my comfort zone as a writer. I have written so many different things that I never really thought I could before, and I'm getting new kinds of ideas. This idea hit me last night and wouldn't let me go. It's not exactly fem/slash. It is intimate, though - Maria and Liz having a conversation and exploring self-pleasure together (ideologically and physically).

Warning for sexual situations.

***

“Hey. Hey, Liz.”

Maria watches as Liz’s head jerks up. She can see the exhaustion on her face, the way her eyes are rimmed red, her jaw tight. Upon seeing Maria, Liz relaxes, minutely.

“Hey yourself,” she says, giving a half-hearted smile.

Maria glances around, takes in the scattered takeout containers from the Crashdown, the nearly-empty water bottle. “How long you been down here?”

Liz snorts a little. “Too long, probably.”

Maria casts a level glance her way. “You need a break. Out, now.”

For a moment, Liz looks like she’s going to protest, then stretches her neck, side to side, before looking at Maria. “Fine.”

***

“I’ll drive you back. Later, though.”

Liz nods. They’re in Maria’s truck, the old red one. It’s running better than ever, after her brief… thing with Michael. He’d been attentive, in certain ways. An absolute shitshow in others.

“Why don’t we go to the Pony, have a drink?”

Liz’s mouth tightens. “I’m… no.”

Maria raises an eyebrow.

“It’s just… I’m trying not to. For Rosa.”

Maria nods, looks straight ahead. “I get that. Where is she right now?”

There’s a pause before Liz replies. “Santa Fe, actually. She wanted to see the Georgia O’Keefe museum. Kyle took her.” Liz scoffs a bit, and her tone is wry when she finally speaks again. “Brother-sister bonding, I suppose.”

Maria exhales a long, low breath at that. “Our lives are fucked up.”

“That they are.”

Maria eyes Liz. “How long are they gone?”

“Long weekend, I think.”

Maria nods, half to herself. “Hmm… well I understand if you don’t want to drink, or do anything. But if you did, now could be a chance. She’s out of town, you’re out of that damn bunker. I’ve got all the tequila and weed you could want.” Maria shrugs. “Or, you know, we could just go high school style. Popcorn, chocolate, movies?”

Maria watches Liz suck in her bottom lip, worry it between her teeth. “You know what? Fuck it. All of the above.”

***

“Can you believe this is over 10 years old?” Liz asks as the credits start rolling to The Proposal.

“No,” Maria says, topping off Liz’s cup with more tequila. “You need anything? Ice, lime?”

“Maybe just an IV,” Liz says wryly. “Inject this right in.”

Maria snorts a little. “Doctor Kyle’s in Santa Fe, remember?”

Liz laughs a little. Maria watches her, expression soft. “What next? 10 Things I Hate About You? Sweet Home Alabama?”

“No,” Liz says, too fast, too emphatically. “No… no high school shit.”

Maria nods her understanding. “Yeah… yeah.”

They’re quiet for a while. “Did you ever think, back then – “

“No,” Maria says. “Whatever you’re going to say, no.” She takes a long sip of her glass. “Our lives are a fucking joke right now.”

“I dunno about that,” Liz says, slowly. “Jokes are supposed to be funny.”

And what can Maria do but take another drink, at that?

“I miss him,” Liz says, voice soft. “I miss him, and I hate him, sometimes. Like, what does that say about me?”

“You’re human?”

Liz fixes her with a long look. “He… he fucked up, you know? I want to not miss him. I want to just, like, be able to rage against him and leave everything about him, every memory, in my rearview. How I did after high school. Just get the fuck out and not look back. I mean, I still have my degree, my experience. I… I could start over.” She shakes her head. “But I can’t. I just can’t.” Maria watches Liz, watches her chin as it starts to quiver. “He had no right, none at all…” she trails off, and the tears come. And Maria puts down the glass and holds her.

***

It’s a clear night, with lots of stars and a full moon visible.

“Night like this, in high school? Rosa and I would be getting up to some shit, you know?”

Liz laughs, takes a pull off the joint, passes it back to Maria. “You’re getting up to shit now.”

Maria laughs a little, lets the smoke fill her lungs, spread its warmth. “You never came out with us. Never got into trouble.”

Liz purses her lips. “Nope. Good girl, remember?” She shakes her head. “Lot of good that did me.”

Maria looks at her sharply. “Hey, you got out, remember? Got your degrees, saw different places. Like you wanted.”

Liz’s eyes narrow. She gestures up to the Crashdown billboard. “And yet, here I am.”

Maria looks down. “It’s different. It… it’s different than never leaving. Trust me, I know.”

Liz goes quiet, then. “Did you ever want to? Leave?”

Maria scoffs, passes the joint back to Liz. “Of course I did. But it wasn’t that easy for me. I didn’t have your brains, and Mimi needed the help, at the bar. I mean, if I’d had a real, like, plan, I’m sure she’d have been fine with it, but it’s not like there was anything that compelling for me. Nothing that would make the guilt of leaving feel worth it.”

Liz is staring at her, an odd expression on her face. “You know… you know Isobel got in my head? Right after Rosa?”

Maria looks at her, sharply. “What?”

“Yup,” Liz says, matter-of-fact. “I… I know I wanted to leave, wanted it so bad, but she, she gave the final push. Sent me out of town before we even had the funeral for Rosa.”

“Holy shit,” Maria breathes. “Max?”

“Had no idea.” Liz reaches down for the tequila bottle, then. She looks at Maria before she takes a drink, looking a bit uncertain. “Um… Michael. Michael knew.”

Maria gives a half-snort. “Of course he fucking did.” She shakes her head. “You know, he’d tell anyone who cared to hear it that he hated secrets, couldn’t stand ‘em.”

Liz shrugs a little. “I guess we know why.”

Maria’s feeling loose now, the alcohol and the weed hitting her. There’s something about being up on the roof with Liz, talking about these things…

“Did you know? About him and Alex?”

Liz just shakes her head. “Shit. No. Not, like, the extent of it, you know?”

“Yeah,” Maria says, softly. “I, I mean…” She stares out at the main drag of Roswell, takes it in. “I found out a lot of shit, you know? Stuff I wish I’d known, like, ten years ago.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

They’re quiet, then, an oddly easy silence, just passing the bottle between them. The joint. Without even realizing it, their bodies are pressed against each other, ankle to hip to shoulder. Liz leans her head on Maria. “You… you realize we’ve all fucked an alien now, right? You, me, Alex…”

Maria groans, puts her head in her hand. “Shit, yes. It’s crossed my mind.”

“What a club.”

Liz just blows out a breath, at that. “God I’m wasted right now.”

“Me too, babe.”

“See, this is why I don’t, don’t do… this. I get sad. And, and introspective.” She pauses. “And horny as fuck.” Maria feels her head shake against her shoulder. “God damn you, Max Evans. God fucking damn you.”

And then Maria feels the tears.

***

She’s making Liz drink water. “You’re staying here tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Liz is saying, and she must be out of it, because she’s not even fighting Maria. And then Maria’s tucking her into her bed, getting in next to her, pulling up the sheets over them both.

“You need to throw up? Use the bathroom?”

“No,” Liz says. “Just need… I dunno what I need.” She swallows. “I need him, is all. Wish I didn’t, but, but I do.”

Maria strokes her hair. “What do you miss about him?”

Liz heaves a sigh. “I miss… miss the way he was with me, you know? How he looked at me, cared about me. He… seemed just, like, fucking delighted with me, does that make sense? I mean, I’ve been with plenty of other people, but it’s never been that… that interested, if that makes sense? Like, in me – in what I think, what I do, what I like… all of it. It felt nice, to be wanted like that.”

Maria nods.

“And… and I miss being with him. We had one time, Maria, one fucking time. If I’d have known – “

She trails off, then, and Maria holds her. “We’d have all done different things if we knew what we know now.”

“Yeah,” Liz nods, almost breathless.

“How… how long has it been, for you?” Liz shifts a bit, looks at her. “I mean, it’s been over a year since everything with Max.”

“Yeah.”

“And there’s been no one else?”

“No,” Liz says quickly. “I mean, in this town, who would I even?”

Maria shrugs a little. “Kyle, maybe?”

Liz makes a face. “God, no, after Max it would just seem… just seem wrong to me. Like, like admitting that he’s not coming back, you know?”

“Well, if I can offer any advice,” Maria says. “Don’t… don’t start anything with Michael.”

It gets the desired response, Liz groaning, pushing at Maria. “God, I should smother you for even saying that,” she mutters.

“There’ve been times I’ve wanted to smother myself,” Maria says, shaking her head. “I… He was good, though. With that. Like, working at the Pony all those years, I heard things. Rumors about him. Like, that part? It was good, really good. Sometimes I think, if things had been different…” She trails off. “But they’re not, they’re really not. And, and I don’t know if things will ever be what they were, with me and Alex.” She pauses. “I’d understand if they weren’t.”

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Liz says. “With Alex, I mean? He… there’s so much I didn’t know about him. Don’t know. He’s had this, like, whole other life, in the Air Force, whole other set of experiences. I mean, even before that, with his dad…” She trails off. “I didn’t know. Like, I knew it was bad, but not…”

“Yeah,” Maria says.

“You think… you think they’ll get it together? Alex and Michael?”

“Hell if I know,” Maria murmurs. “Like, now that I know, like, really know, I don’t know how I ever didn’t.”

“Same,” Liz says. “They’re… it’s not subtle. Like, once you know.”

“I’m an idiot. A psychic idiot with a blind spot about a mile wide.”

“No,” Liz says, shaking her head. “We… I missed it, too.” Her face looks grim. “And from what we know now, about Alex’s dad… well, sounds like the stakes were pretty high.” She pauses. “Michael’s hand. His whole, like, alien investigation.”

Maria’s brow is furrowed. “You know, you leaving? I understood. That’s all you talked about, for years. Like, I was prepared for that. Not for the way it all went down, of course. And the radio silence.” Liz hangs her head. “But Alex? Like, I hoped he’d get out. He wanted it, too. But he should have never joined the Air Force. I… I couldn’t reconcile that, you know?” She blows out a breath. “But it makes sense now, doesn’t it? With his dad? What a monster.”

***

It’s one of those mornings where everything is too much. It’s too loud, it’s too bright… Liz is hungover for the first time in a long time. She smells eggs cooking and wanders into the little kitchen. How many times had she slept over here and woken up to see Mimi at the stove, smiling brightly and scrambling a big pan of eggs for them? She’d always mix cheese in, and fresh herbs if she had them. It almost feels strange to see Maria there today, grown and tired-looking.

“Hey,” Maria says. “You feeling as good as me this morning?”

“Better, I bet,” Liz replies.

Maria laughs, at that. “I think you needed it, though.” She regards Liz out of the corner of her eye. “And you know what else I think you need?”

“Uh oh, what?”

“An orgasm.”

A big, bright laugh escapes Liz. “What?”

“I’m serious, girl. You don’t want to go out and get laid, that’s fine. I get that, after everything you’ve been through. But at least go home, take a shower, get your vibrator, and treat yourself. Like, I’m telling you that as a friend.” Liz is just staring at her. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, what?”

“It’s just…” Liz bites her lip a little. “I don’t have one.”

Maria looks at her blankly.

“A vibrator. I don’t have a vibrator.”

“Seriously? Um, okay.” She cocks her head. “Well, you can always order a new one. Did you just not bring it here with you? When you moved?”

“No, um…” Liz looks uncomfortable. “God, this feels weird to say, but, but I’ve actually never used a vibrator.”

Maria almost drops the spatula. “You what?”

Liz’s eyes widen, almost comically. “I… I just never, never needed one, I guess?”

Maria is still just gaping at her. “I… what do you do?”

Liz sighs. “I’ve had a boyfriend since I was, like, 16. And it’s not like I was going to have a…” her voice drops, “a fucking vibrator while I was living with my dad, I mean…” Liz stares at Maria. “You know what things were like. My mom had left, Rosa was…” She trails off. “Like, the last thing I wanted was the rock the boat, give my dad any trouble, you know?” She shrugs. “I was the fucking good girl, right? And good girls didn’t have vibrators.”

Maria is staring at her. “But… but you never did?”

“It just… it never came up. Like I said, there was always someone. And you know how men are.” Maria’s eyes narrow. “Their damn egos. About something like this.”

“Not all men, Liz,” Maria says, emphatically. “Like, trust me on this.” She sighs. “Seriously, how… how do you even know what you like? I mean, do you ever… you know?”

Liz laughs a little. “I mean, yeah, but… not that often? And since Max, it’s just… I almost feel guilty. Like, feeling that way. Or taking time away from working on bringing him back. But mostly just feeling… that way, without him.”

Maria bites her lip. Hurriedly, she scrapes the eggs out of the pan into a patterned bowl, wipes her hands. “Wait right here.” Within minutes, she’s back, phone in hand. “I’m ordering you something.”

“Whoa, wait, what?”

“Trust me with this. I’m getting it sent here. So your dad doesn’t accidentally open it and have a goddamn heart attack.”

“Maria –“

“No, Liz, please. Like… please do this for yourself. Actually, wait.” She looks at Liz. “If, if you really don’t want me to do this, I won’t. Like, it’s your call. But I just… you’re my friend, and you’ve been through so much. And, and whether or not Max comes back… like, you’re still you. You still have to live with yourself, and this is a part of you, a part of you that it sounds like you’ve never really let yourself explore. For so many reasons. So… so please, if you’re okay with this, I want to do this for you.”

Liz looks at her for a long moment, then hauls her in, hugs her. “Yes.”

***

“I have something for you.”

Liz looks around the Crashdown. “Oh my god, that was fast.”

Maria nods, a little smile on her face. “It’s at my house. Figured maybe you’d want to swing by after your shift. Wasn’t sure you’d want me to bring it here.”

“Yeah, I’ll come by your place.”

Maria frowns. “Your… your dad, is he around this weekend?”

“Always,” Liz says.

“Hmm…” Maria says, thoughtful. “Would you want to come over to my place? Get some privacy?”

Liz laughs a little. “I dunno. Like, yes? But is that weird?”

“No weirder than me buying you a vibrator.”

“That’s fair. Let’s do it.”

***

They’re in the living room, opening the nondescript cardboard box.

“It looks so… benign,” Liz says.

“Well, it’s a personal massager. You’re going to be giving yourself a foot rub, right?”

“Of course,” Liz says, faux-serious. “This… this what you use?”

Maria smirks. “I mean, I have a few. But yeah, this is one of them.”

“Hmm…” Liz murmurs. “Something tells me we are going to have to have a chat sometime. Woman to woman. About what you’ve gotten up to these past ten years.”

Maria smiles. “I have a feeling you’ve got stories, too.”

“I do.” She sighs. “This… this was really nice of you, Maria. I… I’ve missed this. Us. Our lives have been just, so, so insane this last year. Even before that, really. And this… I never really talked about this, with anyone. It’s, it’s nice to know I can. With you.” Liz looks thoughtful. “I mean, I’m a scientist. But growing up… Catholic. Church every Sunday. Everything was wrong. A sin. Especially stuff like this. You don’t… you don’t just forget that, you know?”

Maria crosses to her, embraces her. “It was so different for me, with my mom. She was always so… so open about shit like this. Pleasure. The female body. It was like, like a celebration.” She smiles fondly. “I miss her so much sometimes.” Maria tightens the hug. “She always liked you, Liz. So much. She’d want this for you.”

“I want it for me, too,” Liz says, softly.

Maria kisses her, once, on the side of the head.

“Then go.”

***

Liz showers. Puts on lotion. Pulls on a robe. Lays a clean towel down – it’s not her bed, after all. Turns on some music. Looks at the vibrator. Walks around the room. Looks at the vibrator again.

“Maria?”

She hears footsteps, then a knock. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, come in.”

Maria cracks the door, steps in. She must see Liz’s stricken face, because she crosses the room quickly, sits next to her on the bed. “What is it?”

Liz sighs, leans back. “I… I’m in my head. I just can’t… like, why does this feel so hard to do? It should be easy.”

“But it’s not. And that’s okay.”

Liz sighs, so deeply. “I just keep thinking about Max, and the last time we were together, and I get so, so damn sad. Maybe I’m not ready for this yet.”

“Maybe not. Or maybe…”

“What?”

“Maybe you just need to think about it differently. Like, like an experiment. A trial. Or…”

“What?”

Maria bites her lip. “This… this might sound super weird.”

“Um, you bought me a vibrator, that I am about to use. In your bed.” Liz raises an eyebrow. “After my boyfriend, who was an alien, died resurrecting my sister. Like, I think we’re way, way beyond weird.”

“Very fair,” Maria says, firmly. “But, ah, my mom, she told me that in the 70’s, there was this movement. Pro-body stuff. Women getting together and, and looking at themselves. Looking at each other. Down there. Like, not porn or anything like that, just, like, sisterhood. Normalizing it. Like the reality of it, you know? Almost… almost sacred.”

“Sacred…” Liz murmurs. “I like that.”

“Yeah,” Maria says. “And, like, learning. Learning how to bring pleasure to themselves. For no one else. Just, like, for them. No, no pressure. And no shame, either. Solidarity.”

“Solidarity.” Liz swallows. “What are you suggesting?”

Maria reaches out. Strokes her hair. “You want me here? Like, moral support? I… I could even do it too, if you want? With mine? We could do it together. Just for us.”

Liz is quiet. Nods. “For us. Just for us.”

***

It’s a little weird. It is. Liz never imagined she’d be getting herself off in Maria’s bedroom, candles lit, Maria next to her. The smells, the sounds… it’s so intimate, maybe the most intimate she’s ever been with anyone without actually touching.

And it’s powerful, so powerful. She shakes and cries. Resists, almost, at first. Rages… how could she have never done this before? What stopped her from thinking this was something she could do, something that was okay to do? Maria hears her breathing, her noises, soothes her.

“Just focus on your body, Liz, focus on how you feel.”

And it helps. She’s out of her head, where she seems to live her whole damn life, and into her body.

“Breathe, Liz. Just breathe and feel.”

So she breathes. She feels.

“It’s different, different from being with someone else, different from your own hand. Just, just allow it. Let it happen. Just focus on the feeling and relax.”

And god help her, she does. For the first time in over a year, since she was in Max’s bed, she lets herself go. Lets herself feel.

She feels the familiar build, and that tip, that decision point where she either fights it or, like Maria says, allows. She breathes, she relaxes, and she allows.

And there it is, that feeling she’s chased for years with partners, that tightening and release, the warm surge of relief that courses through her. She can’t stop her cry, and it pulls a warm laugh out of Maria, too. Oddly enough, it’s that laugh that relaxes her the most, lets her laugh, too. Then cry.

Maria finishes not long after, glances over at Liz, and smiles. “Well… that was a first.”

Liz grins at her, so relieved. “Yes. Thank you. I… I never would have done this on my own.”

Maria gives a small smile. “I don’t know about never… but I’m glad I helped. I…I just want you to care about yourself, Liz. And it’s just seemed like, for this last year, you haven’t.”

“I haven’t,” Liz affirms. “But you make me want to start.”

#my fic #liz ortecho #maria deluca #mention of malex #femslash february #roswell nm

16 notes · View notes

cilliansaccent · 4 years

Text

The Peaky Designer - Cillian Fanfic, Chapter 9

Hello, welcome back. Below is the next instalment of my fanfiction!

Leave a like or a comment if you liked it, or if I can do anything better! Please, it would mean the world and to understand if anyone is enjoying my writing. Also, sharing/reblogging would be even better.

PLEASE READ:

I will not be including Cillian’s family as it’s kinda weird since he has children lmao. Just a mention of his parents and a previous lover.

I will indicate in a chapter if there is smut in the beginning and before the actual scene!!

I will add trigger warnings if there is any!!

There is a variety of levels of swearing during a chapter, I will not hold back, everyone swears.

The timestamp for the Fic is now 2016 and onwards!!

——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——-

Background: Gabrijela Babic is a Croatian girl from Sydney, Australia. She is born in the year 1991 on the 24th of December. She studies a Fashion degree in a University with a major in Game Design as well. Her teacher in the fashion designer class managed to nail an Internship on the set of Peaky Blinders with the shows very own Costume Designer, Allison McCosh. There, she travels to London for under a year to learn how to be one, working alongside the actors as well the man she admires, Cillian Murphy. But, her platonic feelings for the man begins to grow into something more, and she wonders whether she should pursue them or let him go for fear of her strict parents and her three older brothers…

Characters:

Swantje Paulina as Gabrijela Babic (swalina on Instagram)

Cillian Murphy

Word Count: 2,928

!!Warnings!!: None.

Date: August to December 2016

Chapter Name: ...And Cruel.

Brief Chapter Outline: Gabrijela hangs out with her bestie for the next four weeks, having a great time. But at a Christmas Party, all of that good joy and happiness shatters to pain and heartache...

——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——-

By morning, Gabrijela called up Lucia and called her over for breakfast. She was there in less than fifteen minutes and she let the girl up. Gabrijela had already finished cooking, "Goodness, does it smell good." Lucia smiled and hugged her. "Thanks. Been practising." She smiled. She had cooked up eggs, bacon, mushrooms and pancakes were wrapped up in foil to be kept warm. They ate in silence and Lucia helped her clean up once they were done. Then when they had their hot cocoa they sat at the couch together, "I need to ask you something." Gabrijela started.

"I know. Yesterday," Lucia sighed, looking down at her cup then back up. "I want to apologise for that. I was being mean and rude, no other reason." Gabrijela nodded, "Logan didn't feel comfortable at all. And neither did I, especially with that last comment you made about whether this lasting or not." She frowned, "That hurt." Lucia reached over and took her hand, "And I am deeply sorry for that. Let me make it up to you." Gabrijela smiled a little, "Alright. You can totally make it up to me." After that day, the girls spent each day together. They did plenty of shopping, Lucia was a bad influence when it came to shopping and Gabrijela had to watch her spending even if she had a lot of money still. They did the usual tourist things, Buckingham Palace, the London Eye and all that. Bought souvenirs for home and their friends and went on organised tours. Gabrijela had learned Lucia was here for a break of University. She had stated it was too hectic and would be here till early December. Lucia planned to stay here for a month, then return to Spain to see her extended family before she would come back here and spend the two last weeks with Gabrijela in December It seemed odd, Gabrijela thought but she didn't care. She had her best friend here with her. So the next few weeks were busy, Gabbie balancing out her new work and life with Lucia. Clubbing, getting wasted over the weekends and having the absolute fun. Logan had occasionally tagged along with some of his mates, which was fine but Gab couldn't get a little overprotective. Especially when Lucia always eyed him like a meal. But she didn't pay much attention to it, Lucia wouldn't hurt her like that. Overall, Gabrijela had missed her best friend a lot, missed just being herself and acting like a bunch of mad women laughing and all that. It was good to let go but she still kept in mind she was with Logan and kept herself distanced from any men who tried to hit on her. As the months wore on, Gabrijela was busy working away. She had a good balance of her work and romance with Logan. She was happy finally, and even got to see Cillian almost every week. Just either dinner or coffee or catching a film together. Life for her was good. She was in a good mindset after so, so long being in darkness. By December, after long hard working through her new work and being with Logan for almost five months now, Logan had organised a small Christmas Party on Saturday for his buddies from work, so Gabrijela brought Lucia along before she was to fly out in two days. The pub was decked out in Christmas decorations and a live band played classic Christmas music that made it warm and cozy despite the cold temperature. Gab had changed into a mini tube skirt with an ugly Christmas sweater on top. It was the theme for tonight and Logan had an equally ugly sweater. "And yet you still look so delicious." Gab grinned up at him and they kissed. "I always look good in everything." He said, keeping an arm around her waist. "That's true." She nodded and they joined the group of friends. Lucia was chatting with a guy, clearly, she was trying to see if he could go home with her. The night dragged on, people danced and drank and drank and... drank. Gabrijela was talking to some of the girls outside and decided to head back in with them as it started to rain. But she wasn't feeling tonight, Logan had been... off the whole time. Even when they had met up during the week. Especially when Lucia was around. "Where is Logan?" She asked one of his mates. "Gone to take a piss." He replied. Gabrijela nodded, but her senses or whatever you called it was telling her something was up. Everything was wrong tonight. So she headed to the toilets, she was slightly shaking as anxiety rolled through her. She didn't want another attack, she hadn't had one for a long time and that was during and after the messy break-up with her ex. Some girls were laughing as they left the female toilets, "Fucking disgusting huh? Can't fucking shit in peace with that noise." Gab watched them go and could hear something inside despite the loud music. As she walked in the sounds were... muffled, soft moans came from the last stall. She could see the shadows below it. As she neared she heard it, "Logan." A soft female voice she knew too well. But she wanted it to be untrue and she pushed the door open which was unlocked. "Hey! Someone is-" When the door opened she saw Lucia and Logan. His pants at his ankles and her legs around his waist. It was exactly how Lucia had explained to her how she found her ex with a woman. "Gabrijela." Lucia hastily fixed her skirt as Logan fixed his pants, "I-I'm so sorry. Oh god Gabbie." "No." She snapped, tears falling down her cheeks, "No! You don't get to fucking call me that! You don't!" She screamed. "Please, baby, fuck I-I'm sorry she just-" "You shut the fuck up. Just shut up." She whimpered, her heart was ripping to pieces. She felt the darkness of her pain swallowing her up once more. "Oh, my god. Oh, my god." She repeated, running her fingers through her hair, gripping the strands. She paced around, "Fuck, what is wrong with me huh? Huh? I-Is there something wrong? What don't you like about me? A-Am I to fat? Do I have to small size breasts?" She looked at Logan, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?" She screamed in absolute pain. Logan looked away, regret in his features. "Fucking trusted you. I opened my heart to you. I let you in." Her voice dropped into a broken whisper. "You cheated on me. How long huh? How long?" She looked at Lucia. "Tell me, how fucking long have you two been messing around hm?" "Four months." Lucia winced when Gabrijela let out a pained whine. "Oh wow. Wow, so I've been riding a fucking used cock that was used on a bitch. Wow. Just fucking wow. Lucia, you are so fucking horrible, you know that? You wanna know something Logan, yeah? You ain't the first fucker she's gotten her hands on. She's done it to the other men who were taken. And now, I've had enough fucking looking after you Lucia. You have no sense of personal space and you ruin everyone's lives. You almost did it to Elijah. But at least he was the better man and stopped you." Gabrijela said with such venom Lucia looked down. "I-I'm sorry. Please don't leave me alone, I beg you. I'll make it up-" She whimpered as she stepped to her. "No. No way. It's over. No more will I stand back and let you trample over everyone's lives. You'll learn that one day, fucking someone's partner is not a thing that should be laughed about. I can't believe what moron I was to even stick to you. I only stayed because you had no one else. But now, this is the line I draw entirely." And with that, she left the bathroom, tears and makeup running down her cheeks. She didn't care if it was raining she just needed out. Away from this place. She cried, but no one would know as it was pouring down. Gabrijela came to a park and she sat under a gazebo. She was shaking, it was so cold. But she didn't care. She cried her heart out. Her phone buzzed and buzzed but she ignored it. Only after she stopped she pulled her phone out, Lucia had sent her messages and missed calls from Logan. But she didn't want to speak to them at all. Shivering, she rang up someone else who would listen to her. She waited until the phone was picked up, "Hello?" It sounded like Cillian had just woken up from his sleep, voice heavy. "C-Cillian." She sniffled, the rain had eased off now. "Gabrijela?" He sounded more alert, "Are you okay? Gab?" "I-I'm not Cillian. I... Please pick me up. I-I'm so scared." She started to cry again. "Shh, don't cry hey. Look around yeah? Where are you?" He asked, there was some shuffling and it sounded like he was getting dressed. Gabrijela sniffled and checked her phone for the maps and told him. "Okay. I will be right over. Stay where you are, okay? I won't hang up." His voice was gentle. She nodded, "Okay Cillian." He spoke to her about filming and what was happening as he got into his car. He carried an extra jacket as he sped down the road to the park she was in. It was about twenty minutes and the rain had begun to fall hard again. He parked and ran through the semi-dark park and found her on the gazebo. Gabrijela stood when he came over and she wrapped her arms around him, crying into his chest. He wrapped the jacket around her and held her close. "I got you." He said, a hand on the back of her head. "I'm right here. Oh, darling. Come, let me take you to my home." He murmured. He held her close as they made their way back to the car, he helped her in and he got in and drove off. His home was almost how her apartment looked like. But he had a whole three-story all to himself. He had Christmas decorations up, a Santa light in the bay window. Cillian helped her out of the car, through the iron gates with a pretty garden and up the stairs to the wooden door. Once inside, they were greeted with a narrow hallway that looked like it led to the kitchen and the small dining room. A set of stairs went up to the second floor, and on the right was an open door frame that went into the living room. It was all warm tones, it was cozy and like in a cabin in almost. She spotted photos of him and his family on the little table in the hallway. "Let's go upstairs. You're shivering." He said. Up they went and into his bedroom that took most of the second floor. It overlooked the back garden, it had a large king-sized bed with deep blue sheets and a white throw. It was messy as if he had kicked it all off. He got her to sit on the bed, "I'm going to make a bath, okay? Just wait here." He said as he left the room to go to the bathroom. She sniffled as she looked around, the bed was wooden and had a shelf like backboard that had stacks of books inside it. The wall was dark blue with the other three being an off white colour. Light oak coloured floorboards with a grey carpet at the foot of the bed. Directly across from the bed was a small balcony. From where she sat, across her was a tall bookshelf that had a mixture of books and little statues and photos of him and more of his family. When she turned to look behind her, there was a dresser beside a floor to ceiling window with heavy drapes the colour of storm clouds. And further next to the bed was a small walk-in wardrobe, the light was still on. The room was nice, sleek and cool. Much like Cillian. She smiled at the thought. It even smelled like him. He came back in, carrying a packet of wet wipes and a towel. "Bath is filling up," He said as he sat beside her, "May I?" He held the wipe as if to clean her face up. "Okay." She nodded. He gently began to clean her face up, wiping her eyes and lips and cheeks. "I'll go check the bath." He said and stood, "You can undress, I left the towel there." He smiled and left. She stood up and slowly took off her clothing, neatly leaving it in a heap as she wrapped the fluffy towel around herself. A knock at the door, "Come in." Gabrijela called. He came in, "It's ready. Come on." He gestured for her to come over. He took her into the bathroom. It was cute and simple. It had white tiles halfway then a grey/green/blue coloured wall the rest. The white claw tub that was also a shower was right across, a large window that looked down to the garden below. To the right was a dark brown vanity and white bowl atop. A huge mirror above it. The floors matched the dark colour of the vanity with a plush carpet in the middle. "Fancy." She murmured as she came over to the bathtub that was full of bubbles. She giggled. "I knew bubbles would make you smile. You told me you liked bubble baths." He said, a hand on her back. "I did. Thank you, Cillian." She looked up and gave him a smile. "Any time." He said. "Get in and get comfy. I'll go downstairs and make some tea." He said. She nodded and got in after he had left. She moaned softly and sunk in further, she had kept her hair up in a bun as it was almost dry now. She didn't want to get it wet again. She could feel her body warming up now, but she felt a chill within her. She was going to get sick. Shutting her eyes, she tried not to think of what happened tonight. Tried to stop her heart from breaking any further. But it was hard, she had worked so hard this year, dove into her studies more fiercely and focused more on her happiness. She couldn't believe Lucia would do this to her, but then again... she was stupid to even believe her. She had hoped she would be a better person, but it seemed she wasn't. Tears began to fall again just as Cillian knocked on the door. She quickly washed her face, "You can come in." She called as she watched him enter with two teas. "How is it?" He asked as she set the tray on a little table. "Perfect." She smiled as she held out her hands for her tea, he handed it to her. "Good. I made earl grey, something-" "I told you. Yeah. Thank you, Cillian." She sipped her tea and shuddered, "Yum." She murmured. He sat on the toilet seat, he was dressed in long flannel pants and a white shirt. He had changed it seemed. They stayed silent as she drank her tea, she knew he wanted to ask what happened but she wasn't ready to speak about it. "I uh, I have a long-sleeved shirt and some pants, if you want to wear that. And socks. That's all I can offer." He laughed softly. "That is fine by me. I'd like to be surrounded by you tonight." She whispered as she handed her empty cup back. "I'll bring it in," He said and left and returned with the clothing. Then left again so she could have some privacy. She got out and dried up, combed her hair with her fingers and changed into the clothing he gave her. It was soft and warm. She used the mouthwash and the cup before she cleaned it. She trudged out to the bedroom where he was fixing the bed. "Hi," She said softly, she had puffy red eyes when she had looked at herself in the mirror. "Feel better?" He came over, reaching up to brush his fingers along her jaw. "Yeah. Much needed. Thank you, Cilly." She leaned her cheek into his hand. "I'd like you to stay in bed, I... I need comfort." He nodded, "Alright. Let's get in." He said. She got in with him, the bed was so soft. He laid in the middle on his back as she laid down with her head on his chest. His arm wrapped around her as he pulled up the sheets. "Oh!" He jumped and she looked up. "What?" She asked. "Your feet are cold. Touched mine." He chuckled softly. "Oh, my bad." She let out a soft smile and laid her head back down. She let the sound of his heart lull her into sleep. She was warm, surrounded by the smells of Cillian and his arms. Cillian had no idea what happened tonight to make her so distraught. It broke his heart to see her alone in the dark, shivering and cold. He would not push her, he would let her tell him when she was ready. He would make sure tomorrow she was entirely comfortable and happy.

#cillian murphy #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #fanfiction

11 notes · View notes