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probably-writing-x · 4 months

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When The Ball Drops

Conrad x Y/n

Summary: You and Conrad had become fast friends, and you were convincing yourself it was nothing more. But new years always brought new beginnings, right?

There were a lot of things that Conrad disliked. Pineapple on pizza, films with stupid plot twists, wearing suits when the shirt felt too tight around his neck, when his brother would get into those moods and just whinge about everything. And New Years. He hated New Years.

He’d never been the biggest fan, but it had felt a hundred times worse since his Mom had passed. The year turning to the next just felt like the continuous reminder that he was going into another chapter of his life without her in it. And as much as the firsts were coming and going - the first summer without her, the first thanksgiving, the first christmas - there was still more to come. And every new year would now be another new year where Conrad didn’t have his Mom. And that made him HATE new years.

He wanted to forget it was happening this year. He’d go to sleep at 11:50, wake up the following morning and forget that anything had changed. He’d miss the fireworks, he’d avoid the celebrations, forget the new years kisses, and simply wake up for another new day.

“Conrad Beck Fisher are you even listening to me?”

It’s your voice that breaks him from his thoughts.

He glances up from where his eyes had been focused on a single spot on the kitchen floor, turning his attention across to where you were stood on the opposite side of the kitchen island. You were spreading a thin layer of mayonnaise over the sandwich you were making for him.

“I-“ He clears his throat, “What were you saying?”

You shake your head at him and let out a soft chuckle - Conrad’s sure in that moment he’d pause and playback that exact sound just so he could hear it again.

“I was saying…”

You and him had met this past summer. Cleveland had got Conrad a job on a yacht to keep him busy over the summer to ‘take his mind off things’. You happened to have a job on that same boat working as a server. At first, Conrad had been nothing short of cold to you. He was blunt, he was rude, he practically ignored you and everyone else for that matter. It was a couple of weeks later when you wore him down a little bit more. He started to say hello to you at the start of a shift, he offered to help you carry the crates of drinks on board, he stood with you whilst you cleaned the glasses and he had nothing to do until the guests came on board. Eventually, he started taking on more shifts so that he was always on the same days as you were. And that then turned into him driving you to and from your shifts most days - on the days when he didn’t, it would be you offering to drive him instead. He lived further away than you did and he practically had to pass your house to get to work anyway but that didn’t matter, you felt guilty if you never offered to pick him up. It was on those drives that he first started opening up to you. He told you about everything his family had been through. He told you about his Mom, his brother Jere, his relationship with his father, and the Conklin family whom you’d quickly learnt meant the world to him and Jeremiah. He told you about college and his dreams of working in medicine. He asked you about your family, found out about your own plans with college and your career. Despite the initial coldness, Conrad quickly became one of your closest friends.

When summer ended, you both went your separate ways. But he started to text you more then. He’d send you videos that he thought were funny, and he’d send you photos of the assignments he had for class that week. Those texts turned into calls when you both needed to revise some nights. Those calls turned into midnight deep confessions, him telling you he was scared of losing Jeremiah, confessing that he felt insanely out of his depth at college. You listened. And Conrad became more certain than ever over those few months that you were the best friend he’d ever had. He never told anyone as much as he told you.

“Okay you’re not listening and you’re not getting your sandwich now,” You wipe your hands on the kitchen towel, the sandwich now cut in two triangle halves and presented on the plate in front of you.

“No, no, I am listening,” Conrad ensures you, “You were saying about…”

You walk around to the other side of the counter until you’re stood in front of him, taking one half of the sandwich from the plate and nodding your head towards him, “About?” You take a bite of the food.

“About…” He clears his throat again, “Jake from work and how my brother asked you… something.”

You chuckle at him again, holding the sandwich out for him to take it from you, “Your brother has invited people for tomorrow night, and he asked me to invite people from work. So I texted Jake, Allie and Peter, and they can all make it.”

Conrad groans, “I told Jere I didn’t want to do anything, I’m not doing a party.”

“Conrad,” You raise your eyebrows at him as if you’re waiting for the reasonable half of him to return.

He instead bites the sandwich and stares into your eyes as if he can see your soul behind them.

“I think it’ll be fun. And Jere’s been planning it all week,” You point out.

Conrad shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know what we have to celebrate.”

“Con,” You try to speak softly, not wanting to overstep a line you weren’t sure existed, “I think it’ll be good for Jere. He could probably do with the distraction. Plus, you guys haven’t seen Belly and Steven in ages and I haven’t even met them yet so that’s reason in itself to have a party.”

Conrad rolls his eyes, “I’ll stay until midnight and then I’m done.”

“Wow, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

He blinks at you as if waiting for you to retract your sarcastic remark.

“Oh, and Jere asked us to go shopping for supplies so I’m gonna go pee and then we’ll leave yeah?”

“What?” Conrad half chokes on the food in his mouth, ��I didn’t agree to shopping.”

You’ve disappeared out of the room before he gets a response from you.

———

Conrad drives to the store which means he also gets to pick the music, though he opts for your playlist anyway. It’s colder in Cousins now and it doesn’t quite feel the same without the windows down and the air ripping through the car, both of you hot and bothered after a shift at work. But there was something comforting about being back with Conrad again. You’d missed him for the few months you’d been apart.

“Okay so what do we actually need?” He asks you as both of you step out of the car, making your way across the empty parking lot.

“Well, party supplies,” You shrug, “All the usual stuff.”

“And this needs two people? Why couldn’t Jere do it?” He grumbles, pulling out a cart from the waiting line.

“Conrad do you ever stop complaining?” You scoff, trying to wiggle the next cart free as the wheel gets stuck in your attempts.

“Here,” Conrad leans over behind you, his arms either side of you as his hands settle over yours on the handle of the cart, tugging sharply to free it for you.

You pause there for just a moment and so does he, until both of you seem to snap back to reality and his hands part from yours almost as quickly as they’d arrived.

“Alright come on, let’s get in and out before you complain any more,” You encourage, “We’ll both fill up on supplies and you can just be there to silently hate your life and store things in your cart. We need cups, plates, food, decorations, everything okay?”

His shoulders drop as if in defeat but he agrees with you nonetheless, letting you go in ahead of him so that he can watch as you disappear down the aisles, already reaching for things to put into the cart in front of you.

—

The two of you browse each one of the aisles and you switch between throwing things into yours and his carts, slowly filling them with each aisle you went down.

“What even is that?” He frowns, examining the last thing you’d picked up.

“Photo booth decorations,” You grin, “It’s not a party if there’s not good opportunity for photos.”

Conrad stares at you as if the words had made him hate you the tiniest bit for the tiniest amount of time.

“You know, I really think you need cheering up Conrad,” You point out, eyeing up the shelves until you find what you wanted.

You reach for the rainbow boa and lift it over the back of his neck, smoothing your hands down the bright feathers that fell down either side of his chest. Conrad suppresses a sigh and it bobs into his Adam’s apple instead, his jaw clenching as he looks at you. There’s a hint of a smile on his lips however, the faint evidence that he couldn’t not love to see you happy.

“You look ready to celebrate now,” You grin.

“Are you sure about that (Y/l/n)?” He raises his brows, turning around to pick something up from the shelf behind him, “Because I think this is much better.”

A pair of flower shaped golden yellow glasses now covered his eyes, his lips curling into a reluctant smile. You laugh the kind of laugh that throws your head back, clasping your hands together.

Conrad knew he looked like an idiot. He knew this was probably the most colour he’d ever worn. He knew the feathers were itching his neck and the glasses were tight on the top of his nose. But it didn’t matter. You were laughing and he was sure that was a sound he’d do anything to hear.

“I think they need to go in the basket,” You encourage, taking the glasses slowly from his face.

Your fingertips brush the temples of his head, grazing across his skin with such minimal intensity and yet he still feels his cheeks burn a fiery red at the contact.

“Come on Fisher, we just need mixer and then we’re done.”

You disappear around the corner of the next aisle before he has a chance to think about it any longer.

———

The following day you spend the majority of your time helping Jeremiah set up for the party. Whilst you were here for the couple of weeks over winter break, you’d been staying in the spare room so you’d started to get used to this house.

You helped him hang up streamers in the lounge and balloons from every inch of space in every room you could find. There were helium balloons that read ‘happy new year’ across one of the sets of cupboards in the kitchen and the paper plates and cups had already been set up on the countertop.

Conrad had disappeared earlier this morning to go to surf and you hadn’t seen him all day since. You couldn’t blame him. He didn’t want the party, let alone for it to consume his entire day.

“So do you think my brother’s going to make it to midnight?” Jeremiah asks, stretching a deflated balloon between the fingertips of both of his hands.

“Id be surprised if he came at all,” You joke, dangling your feet over the edge of the kitchen island where you were sat.

Jeremiah scoffs, “You’re going to be there, he wouldn’t not come.”

“Wh-“ You let out a laugh, “We’re friends. He wants to see me just like he wants to see everyone.”

“Come on,” Jeremiah rolls his eyes, “You can’t be serious.”

You frown just a little and he must notice the expression on your face, interjecting quickly before your concern can increase.

“I just think he cares about you, is all,” Jere encourages, “And it takes a lot for Conrad to be as open with someone as he is with you. You’re good for him, that’s all I mean.”

You nod and offer him a small smile, “Well then I’ll make sure he stays until midnight, at least just to see the ball drop.”

Jeremiah grins, “You have a deal.”

He glances at the time on his phone and his eyes widen at the screen, which he turns around to you quickly.

“Bells and Steven are almost here.”

You were yet to meet the pair that the Fisher brothers spoke to highly of. But you’d heard enough about them to feel like you knew them already. And you also knew that you were about 95% sure that Jere had a thing for Belly. You’d decide that for yourself once you saw them together.

You’re just about to hop down from the countertop when you hear the back door open and turn to see Conrad walking in. His hair is damp and there’s a towel slung over his shoulders.

“There you are!” You smile, “I was starting to think you’d froze out there.”

He laughs and walks around the counter and over to you, standing just close enough to you that his thighs bump against your calves still dangling over the edge.

“It was pretty cold,” His voice is soft as if it’s been drained by the freezing temperatures of the water, his lips ever so slightly blue.

You run your hands down his arms, the cold of his skin.

“You must be freezing,” You frown, squeezing at the skin as if you wanted to inject some warmth into him.

He hums in agreement, his eyes on you as yours seemingly scan him, full of worry, “I’ll warm up.”

His voice is soft, softer than usual as if he doesn’t want to disturb the moment by talking.

“You haven’t told me that the decorations look nice,” You point out, furrowing your brows at him.

Conrad tears his eyes away from you to glance around at the room, eyes scanning all of it before returning back to you, “It’s definitely something.”

“Something,” You narrow your eyes, “You’re such a party pooper.”

“They’re here!” Jere yells out, shortly followed by the sound of the front door opening.

“They’re here!” You repeat to Conrad, your hands moving to his shoulders to steady you as you hop down from the counter, “Time for me to make a good first impression.”

He mumbles so quietly under his breath that youre too far away to hear as he says “It would be impossible for you to give a bad one.”

—

Belly Steven and Taylor climb out of the car and hurry straight over to Jere, engulfing him in a hug of reunion amongst a chorus of overlapping conversation.

Conrad walks out with you and steps forward to greet the three of them, ruffling his hand over Belly’s hair.

“There’s someone you guys need to meet,” He mentions, glancing back at you with a smile warming his face, “This is (Y/n)… my friend.”

“Yeah, hey, it’s so nice to finally meet you guys! I’ve heard a lot about you,” You step forward and smile, “Like a lot about you.”

Steven laughs, “Yeah the boys are obsessed with us, that makes sense.”

“Oh my god I love your hair how do you get it like that?” Taylor steps forward and starts conversation with you.

“Oh um thanks, yeah-“ You glance up and see Conrad looking at you, that same warm smile on his face as if he was relieved you’d finally met this part of his life.

“I’ll take your bags inside,” You hear Conrad mention, soon feeling the soft touch of his hand on your back as he leans down to pick up Taylor’s bag from next to her feet.

His touch lingers for a moment longer, the faintest pressure on your skin. You’re certain the contact is electric, only recognising it in his absence.

———

“Hey Bells I told (Y/n) she could get ready with us in here,” Taylor encourages as she pushes open the door to the bedroom they were sharing.

Belly looks up from where she was sat in front of the vanity mirror fixing her hair, “Oh, yeah sure.”

“Sorry, I’m pretty sure I’ve been stealing Steven’s room whilst I’ve been here so I’ll try not to be in the way,” You smile.

“No don’t be silly you’re not in the way, right Belly?”

“Yeah, right.”

You take a seat on the floor in front of the window and make use of the disappearing natural light whilst it was still here.

“Okay so tell us everything (Y/n), what’s going on with you and Conrad?” Taylor asks, perching on the floor in front of the full length mirror.

“I-“ You laugh a little, “I met him at work, we both worked on this yacht over the summer. And I think if you spend any time with someone in that place you either hate them or become inseparable. And apparently me and Conrad were the second option.”

“Inseparable huh?” Taylor grins.

“Oh no no I just mean he’s like the only person in Cousins I spend any time with nowadays,” You laugh, “He’s just a good friend.”

“Really? Because the way he looked at you earlier didn’t look like friends, right Belly?”

Belly glances up from the mirror and you notice her pause momentarily, swallowing a lump in her throat, “I don’t- I mean I guess I didn’t notice.”

You offer her a smile and there are the faintest hints of her returning the gesture but they disappear quickly.

Conrad had mentioned to you that things had changed with him and the Conklins ever since his Mom had passed. He mentioned that the start of the summer was shitty but that things had worked out afterwards, when you and him became friends. But he never mentioned it in too much detail. He preferred to tell you of the years before and every memory of summers he had with them.

“You’re not looking for a new years kiss then (Y/n)?” Taylor asks you.

“No, no, not me,” You shake your head, “I don’t even know who I could see myself with.”

You set your makeup bag out onto the floor and Taylor plays music through her phone and the conversation dies down into the three of you singing along to the music instead. Belly’s quiet though, you can tell. It might be the day you’d met her but anyone could read that something was off.

———

You’ve smoothed your hands over your dress a million times and it still doesn’t seem to sit right. But you ignore it when you hear the door open again and more guests pour inside. You grab your phone from the bed and run a hand through your hair before hurrying outside and towards the stairs.

The party is already spilling through the entire house, oddly busy for how quiet Cousins felt during the winter. Jeremiah must’ve invited everyone they knew and told them all to bring friends.

You shuffle past a bunch of people you don’t recognise, spotting the familiar curls of Jere across the crowd to give you enough of a focus of where you were heading. The music was loud and you needed a drink.

“There you are!” Taylor grins when she sees you, “I was just about to come and find you.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to change again,” You smile, glancing down at your dress again.

“Well it’s good you didn’t, you look killer,” She encourages, “Right Belly?”

“Yeah you look really pretty (Y/n),” Belly smiles a little bashfully in your direction as if she’s silently trying to apologise for something. Maybe she knew how it came across earlier, because you were already at least 70% sure that this girl didn’t like you, and you weren’t even sure what you’d done.

“Oh come on we have to dance to this one,” Steven grins, reaching over for Taylor’s hand and dragging her with him into the mass of people that were seemingly forming some sort of dance floor.

Belly steps around the kitchen counter so she’s stood closer to you as Jeremiah is busy chatting to a boy you didn’t recognise. You hadn’t seen Conrad yet.

“So how come you’re here for the new year?” Belly asks you, taking a quick sip from the red solo cup in her hand.

“Oh, yeah, well I told Conrad I didn’t have plans over the winter break and he told me to come and stay with them since they’d be here alone,” You nod, “And I didn’t have anything better to do.”

She nods, “So you two are pretty close then?”

“Well,” You shake your head, “We’re just fast friends, I don’t think it’s much more than that.”

“Conrad never makes fast friends,” Belly shakes her head, “And this is like the happiest I’ve seen him since… everything.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. Before today, you’d never thought too much about things between you and Conrad. You liked being friends with him so much that you were scared of ruining it - and thinking of him as more than a friend would definitely ruin that. You thought you knew Conrad’s type and you weren’t that. He saw you as a friend, the way a guy is different with the girls he doesn’t see something with. You’d convinced yourself of that early on and it was only today where your thoughts of that had started to change a little. Maybe he could see you as more than a…

No. He was your friend.

“Speak of the devil…” Belly’s voice trails off as she finishes off the rest of her drink.

“Okay who are these people?” Conrad comes up behind you, the crowd behind him pushing against him so much so that he reaches out a hand to your waist to stabilise him a little.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” You return, glancing up at him as he comes to stand beside you, his arm bumping your shoulder.

“Jake and Peter say hi but they’re in a beer pong tournament apparently that’s too important to leave,” Conrad explains, grabbing a beer bottle from the open box and cracking it open.

“I’ll try to catch up with them in a bit,” You nod, glancing back over your shoulder as if you’d catch them in the crowd.

“I’m going to-“ Belly clears her throat, “I’m going to find Taylor.”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, like you’d just been caught in the act or something. You’d never thought there was tension between you and Conrad when the two of you were together but it felt that way now and you couldn’t explain it.

“It’s weird seeing you in a dress,” Conrad comments softly, leaning down so that you can hear him a little better.

“Weird?” You practically grimace at the word, frowning a little up at him.

“A- a good weird,” He stumbles slightly into the words, “A good weird.”

“Learn how to compliment a girl Fisher,” You narrow your eyes at him, “Better than that.”

He rolls his eyes at you and grabs a red cup from the stack of unused ones, “What are you drinking (Y/l/n)?”

———

You’ve just about managed to settle into the party, and you’ve now been roped into the beer pong tournament that has absolutely strayed from being a tournament anymore. It’s just games of beer pong that don’t end. You’re on a team with Conrad and you’re playing Steven and Taylor, who are losing by two cups.

“Okay aim for that back one Taylor, any of that back line,” Steven encourages, his hands clasped together as if he’s praying,

“Steven you’re not even good at this stop coaching me,” She rolls her eyes, tossing the ball and watching as it bounces away from the table.

Steven suppresses whatever comment he was going to say and instead just wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling him into him, “We’ll get them next time.”

“You’re up (Y/l/n),” Conrad nods, leaning back against the wall behind the two of you, arms crossed as he watches you.

You throw the ball and it bounces once, landing in their front cup with a splash.

“That’s my girl,” Conrad beams, looping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest.

“My girl?” Steven laughs, “Can you two just shut up and get married already?”

You hear Steven laugh, and so does Taylor, and Jeremiah, even Belly. And Peter, Jake and Allie were only a few metres away, they probably overheard it too. Were all of them thinking it?

You can’t explain it after that. You pull yourself abruptly away from Conrad’s chest, probably a little harshly. He looks down at you with a frown that quickly turns into utter concern when he sees your face, your frantic eyes.

“Wh- (Y/n) are you okay?”

“I’m sorry I-“ You drag a hand through your hair but no more words come to mind on time.

Instead, you turn and push as frantically as you can through the crowd until you reach the door to the garden, hurrying down the steps before anyone can catch up with you too soon.

———

The beach was eerie and peaceful at this time, at winter too. For as far as you could see, it was just you. You were stood on the sand a few feet away from the crashing waves. Your arms were wrapped around your torso to keep in some of the heat and you were already starting to shiver. It was nearly midnight in the middle of winter; of course you were freezing.

“(Y/n)!” It’s Conrad’s voice coming from behind you, but it sounds deeper when he’s worried, more like a bellow.

You don’t turn around.

“(Y/n) you had me worried sick, I didn’t know where you’d gone,” He breathes out a sigh of relief, “You must be freezing out here I-“

“Why do they all think something is going on with us Conrad? And why is Belly acting so weird with me? And why can’t they just accept that they’re friends? And what have you said to them about me?”

You turn around to face him and it’s as if everything rises to the surface in that exact moment.

He looks at you with worry on his face but it quickly dissipates into something more level headed as soon as your questions land.

“Okay,” He raises his hands as if in surrender, “I know they’re being assholes about us two together, but that’s just what they’re like, Steven’s an idiot and Taylor always wants to know people’s business, I promise they don’t mean any harm.”

You don’t respond.

“Belly’s weird with you because…” He takes in a deep breath, “This time last year, when my Mom was sick, I was dating Belly. It ended before my Mom died and we’ve figured out a way to be friends since but I think it’s just weird for her to see me with someone- someone that I’m close to.”

You feel your heart skip a beat, just for a second.

“I’ve told them a lot about you, I talk about you to them probably as much as I speak about them to you. You’re important to me (Y/n), and I want my family to like you.”

“But we’re just fri-“ Your voice shakes in the cold, “I mean you don’t see me like that-“

“Earlier,” He cuts you off, “When I first saw you tonight, I should’ve said you looked beautiful. That I think even with a thousand people at that party I don’t think I could find anything that would make me want to take my eyes off you. That even with a hundred voices and a million songs I don’t think anyone will ever say something that interests me as much as every word that you speak. That for the past few months I’ve felt exactly like that. That I wait for you to call and I’m sure I would talk to you every moment of the day if I could. That you look beautiful in that dress and you look beautiful every other day too, even more so when you don’t even think you do. I should’ve said that tonight and I should’ve said that long before tonight too.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, feel the blood pounding in your ears, and yet all you can focus on is him.

“The truth is I’ve been lying to you, (Y/n),” He shrugs his shoulders, “I told you that you were the best friend I’d had. And that part’s true. But where I lied is that I don’t think I could ever convince myself to be just friends with you. I’d spend too long trying to make you laugh, focus too much on every detail so that I could remember it for next time, swap my shifts to shittier days just to see your face. So I’m sorry I lied to you, but-“

You see it then. It’s Conrad. Is it Conrad? Is it really the boy you’d been spending so long convincing yourself was just a friend?

“Kiss me.”

He pauses, swallowing the lump of nerves in his throat, “I-“

“Kiss me,” You repeat, more certain of yourself.

Conrad steps forward, closing the space between you. One of his hands falls to your waist almost instinctively, the other cupping your cheek softly. His eyes flick between yours, dropping to your lips before coming back to meet your gaze. And then his lips are on yours. Soft and hesitant at first, quickly met by the pressure of his certainty. His lips move against yours like the two were made for each other, his hands holding you like they were carved for you. You feel yourself moan against his touch as his hand draws to the small of your spine to pull you closer into him, craving more of your touch.

He only pulls away when the two of you are gasping for air, his forehead coming to rest against yours. His chest rises and falls in rhythm with your own.

“That was-“ You breathe out but all of the other words disappear as you’re interrupted by the echoing chorus of a countdown from the house.

Conrad’s eyes are on you and his lips curl into a smile, “I think our new years kiss was a little early.”

You laugh as their countdown gets closer and closer to zero.

“Kiss me,” Conrad is an echo of your own words from before, more certain of himself now that his veins are flooded with adrenaline.

Three… two… one.

Your lips are on his. Soft, longing, neither of you wanting to break away.

“Happy New Year, (Y/n),” Conrad whispers the words like he doesn’t want the breeze to take them away from you, his hands on your waist holding you like he would never let go.

“Happy New Year Conrad,” You return, your cold hands cupping either side of his flushed face.

He wraps his arms around you, radiating every ounce of heat his body had left as your head rests on his chest, watching the sparkle of fireworks across the other side of the coast as they ignite into the sky. And you’re sure then that Conrad would never let those same fireworks die out. And you could stay like this forever.

#conrad fisher #conrad x reader #conrad x you #conrad x y/n #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher drabble #conrad fisher blurb #conrad fisher request #conrad fisher fic #the summer i turned pretty conrad #the summer i turned pretty

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cwritesforfun · 9 months

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TSITP Conrad Fisher x Fem!Reader: Only You

This was a request!! You've been Conrad's friend for years. Conrad took you to the Debutante Ball last summer because your date bailed on you and broke up with you. He realized how he felt about you then and now it's pretty much all he can think about. Y/N = Your Name

Conrad's POV

I'm waiting for Y/N to arrive. She texted me when her flight landed and when she got to her summer house in Cousins Beach. Now I just have to wait until she drives and gets here. I missed her so much. I wish she lived closer and we could hang out more. You have no idea how long I've been wanting to hug her tightly and have our night walks on the beach.

My door swings open and Jeremiah pokes his head in to say "Hey uh I think Y/N is here, but she is on a stressful-sounding call in the front yard. I heard her voice go really high and she's pacing." I nod and thank him before heading outside.

I open the front door and I see Y/N. She's hanging up her phone angrily when I get outside. When she sees me, her eyes light up and she runs over to me. I hug her tightly and swing her around a little.

Upon releasing her from her hug, I help Y/N carry her overnight bag to my bedroom. We then go for our walk on the beach because Y/N kindly asks to go on one.

We're walking on the beach and I notice Y/N deep in thought. I reach for her hand to hold it and I ask, "You okay?" Y/N squeezes my hand and says, "I am just tired of everyone in my hometown. I'm so glad I'm going to college this year. I cannot wait to leave them all. They're so exhausting to be around and they're toxic, plus they treat me like shit." I reply "I'm sorry to hear that. I didn't know they could get worse. It seems like everything was good at the end of the school year." She replies "I thought so too. I ran into this mean girl and my ex-boyfriend who stood me up at the Debutante Ball at the grocery store the other day. She called me ugly and said I don't deserve happiness. She then showed off my ex and talked about how happy she is with him. He didn't say anything that day, but he texted me the next day about how much he missed me. He said his new girlfriend is rude to everyone and that he was sorry. I just said liked his messages because I do not want him in my life in any aspect. I don't like either of them and I truly just dislike them." I reply "Well fuck them and their thoughts! They suck." She half smiles and I say "You know you have a little dimple on your right cheek that shows when you smile real big or when you're laughing really hard. I've always thought it was cute." She smiles widely and says "You're so sweet, Conrad. You always are." I reply "You're so beautiful, you know that right? Those people suck for trying to make you think otherwise." She asks "Is that why you keep staring at me?" I answer "Oh sorry what was that? I keep getting lost in your eyes. What? Too cheesy?" She laughs and playfully slaps me.

After our walk, we get back to the house where Jeremiah reminds me of the party tonight. Y/N agrees and Jeremiah stares at our hands still intertwined. I can't help that I like holding her hand. Y/N doesn't drop my hand either, so she must like me, right?

Y/N changes and says "I just remembered that I don't even have my whole suitcase here. I think I forgot to bring clothes, except one swimsuit." I ask "Do you need a shirt? I have several. I have the perfect shirt for you tonight. Let me find it." I find it and say "Ok, here it is and you should totally wear it. I'm not saying you shouldn't, but you should." She bursts out laughing and says "Oh I'm for sure wearing this." She changes and I smile widely. I love her in my clothes. What's best about this shirt is that it says FISHER on the back in big letters with my old number from football and on the front is this cheesy photo of me playing football at age 5. My mom had them made when I was in high school.

Y/N walks out in my shirt and it looks good on her. I exclaim "I just realized this will make it look like you're my girlfriend or that we're dating." She smirks and asks "Is that a bad thing? Is there someone else in your life that should wear this instead?" I answer "No and no. There's only you. What about you? Is there uh... someone in your life romantically?" She answers "There is no one but you." I ask "May I take you on a date this week?" She answers "Yes."

Jeremiah walks in, glances between us, and exclaims "We're leaving for the party if you two want to leave when we leave. Y/N, I like your shirt."

We all leave for the party. I drive Y/N and me to the party because Steven, Taylor, Belly, and Jeremiah are in the other car.

We get drinks and I walk around with Y/N a lot. We part ways and she goes off to Belly and Taylor. Jeremiah and Steven stop me when I move to get another drink. Jeremiah asks "What happened with Y/N? She's wearing your shirt. You never let anyone wear your clothes." Steven asks "Did you guys kiss yet?" I answer "We're going on a date this week. We did not kiss." Steven claps me on the back and says "I'm proud of you man. Get your girl!" I ask "What about Taylor?" Steven laughs and walks off. Jeremiah says "I'm happy for you, Conrad. Truly. You and Y/N deserve to be together." I smile.

I take a look at Y/N smiling with friends and I want to hug her, so I sneak behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. I put my head on her shoulder and kiss her on the cheek.

I exclaim "I missed you and I needed to hug you." Y/N replies "I like your hugs. Oh did you know that we're only going to be one hour from each other next year? We can visit each other when we're free on the weekend." I kiss her on the cheek and reply "I did know that. I'm so excited about it and yes, I will be seeing you a lot. I need my Y/N fix." She replies "I think our friends are sick of us." I laugh and ask "And why do you think that?" She answers "Well... you know what? I'm happy with you and your attention, so it does not matter to me what they think." I kiss her on the side of her mouth and say "I'm really happy too. I like you so much. You have no idea." She flips around in my arms and asks "How much?" I kiss her on the lips and she says "You must like me a lot." I ask "And how much do you like me?" She pulls my head back down and deepens the kiss as her hands go into my hair. So she likes me A LOT!

#conrad fisher rec #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x reader #tsitp conrad #conrad fisher #tsitp x reader #tsitp fanfic #the summer i turned pretty

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evermoresversion · 2 days

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so long, london with conrad?

ㅤㅤ♡⃕ ﹙so long, cousins, conrad fisher.﹚

PAIRING Conrad Fisher x Fem!Reader

TW/TAGS Angst.

SUMMARY Based on So Long, London by Taylor Swift.

SONG So long, London by Taylor Swift.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN | CONRAD'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

You loved Conrad. That was for sure.

You loved his company, you loved the way he made you feel. But you especially loved that he knew every detail about you.

But you were both at a point in the relationship where he didn't seem to know you at all.

"It's nothing, y/n, I promise, I'm just not in the mood." he said.

And all you had to do was stay silent, understand and nod.

You noticed him more and more distant. He didn't answer your calls, he barely sent you a text message confirming that he was still even alive.

But you never said anything about it for fear of losing him.

The one who was still carrying the weight of keeping the relationship going was you, and he didn't even realize that you were falling apart.

But everything has a limit, and you were not going to be the exception.

So you stopped trying to make him laugh when he was with you. You stopped pretending that everything was fine when it was the opposite. You just stopped trying, you stopped trying to force it.

And what pissed you off the most was that he was the one who was outraged.

"No. You can't possibly be telling me this, Conrad." you said under your breath, you swore you were about to tear your hair out in anger.

"I was going through a bad time and what you did was give up, so yes, I'm saying you abandoned the ship, you are as guilty as I am."

"I was going down with the fucking ship and you didn't see it!" you exclaimed without patience. "I was dying for you to give me just one measly moment of your day, for you to call me at least once, but that never happened!" You sighed. "I held on to making this work. There came a point where I didn't even know if you wanted to be with me."

"I did."

You both remained silent. You thinking at full speed, recapitulating everything and he just watched you.

"Did you ever stop to think about how your silence was affecting me?" he didn't answer. "Of course not."

"y/n..."

"No, listen to me." You looked at him and he stayed silent. "You swore you loved me, but where were the clues? I could have died waiting for the proof of your love but it would never have happened."

You took a moment to breathe and stop the tears from coming. You wouldn't give him the pleasure of seeing you cry.

"And what pisses me off the most is that you ruined this place for me. I loved Cousins and now everything will become an empty memory of everything that was and what wasn't."

"So this is the end." Conrad murmured without being able to look at you but you noticed the reddish outline of his eyes due to the threatening tears.

He didn't want to leave you but seeing you so broken because of him, he considered it was the best option.

"Yes, it is." You nodded. "At first what we had was nice, a moment of warm sunshine, but then it started to pour. Bye, Conrad, I'm sure you'll find someone, I wouldn't want it to end like this but I'm not the one." You mumbled and walked out of there.

He watched out the window as you got into your car and disappeared down the street, just as you disappeared from his life.

#── 𝐕al write. ♡̷ ·˚#conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher imagines #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher fanfics #conrad fisher angst #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x reader #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty fanfic #the summer i turned pretty imagine

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jahayla-parker · 1 year

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heelllooo, could u write something with Conrad x tall! readeer? like some angst to fluff. maybe her being insecure or something, and her distancing herself from him. oh and they are together

Heightened Insecurities : Conrad Fisher x Reader

Description: 10.8k (plus texts) Reader is Conrad's girlfriend but begins to distance herself because she is insecure about her height. Hurt-Comfort / Angst-> Fluff

Warnings: some angst, discussion of insecurities, some bullying/rude comments, crying, self-doubt, minor cursing, brief mention of cancer (his mother's)- no mention of the outcome on this within this fic

Notes: I may have gotten a bit carried away with this one haha. I tried to write it as a neutrally-casted reader as much as possible; apart from being a tall female as required by the prompt, but the rest should be inclusive (for self-insert purposes) to all demographics [if not please advise me on what to change]!

“So, the party is at seven tonight, but I was thinking-“ Conrad began as he stepped around the corner at the end of the hallway.

He froze mid-stride when his eyes landed on the empty tan couch and saw his girlfriend wasn’t in the room.

“Y/n?” Con questioned, scanning the beach house for where she might have gone.

“Hey Con!” Jeremiah greets, casually strolling past his older brother.

“Jere, wait!” Conrad requests urgently, spinning his body around in order to face Jeremiah, “where is y/n?”

Jeremiah shrugs halfheartedly, “I thought she was with you”.

Conrad sighs, his hand massaging the back of his tense neck as he repays his brother’s answer with a stiff nod, “okay, thanks”.

“You alright man?” Jere asked, despite knowing better than to expect a clear answer from his emotionally reserved brother.

Disappointment clouded Conrad’s face as he confessed, “she’s never late, I… I think she’s mad at me”.

Jeremiah tried his best not to laugh as he wasn’t wanting Conrad to shut down and not talk to him.

But seeing his older brother this way over a girl was an unusual experience.

“Why do you say that? So, she’s a few minutes late,” Jeremiah shrugged again, hoping to calm his brothers’ nerves.

“It’s like you said, she always meets us in the living room at two. It’s only” the younger Fisher boy looked at his watch, “2:10 now, so maybe she needed to stop somewhere”.

Jeremiah said it even though he knew it was unlikely.

Y/n and Conrad were the same in that way.

They were always where they said they’d be, at the time they said they’d be there.

Any deviation from that plan would always have been accounted for and the other one informed of it prior to the fact.

Conrad’s eyes scrutinized his brother to see if he was actually believing his own argument.

“Alright, I see your point. She hasn’t texted you?” Jeremiah admitted, a small frown tugging on the corners of his lips.

Conrad quickly shoved his hand into his pocket, not having thought of checking it earlier as this hadn’t happened before.

The hopeful features that had appeared on Conrad’s face at Jeremiah’s suggestion to check his texts dissolved within seconds.

“Nothing” Conrad muttered lowly.

His younger brother grimaced with widened eyes, “maybe she’s sick?”

Conrad’s head shook as he pursed his lips, “she was okay yesterday, and she would’ve texted me if that was the case. I need to go see what’s going on.”

“Don’t flip out though, she’s probably not mad at you. Unless you did something, did you do something?” Jeremiah teased, being sure to make his voice clearly playful and his features show he was trying to break the tension.

“I don’t think so” Conrad concluded, having already racked his brain for a possible fault of his within the last few days.

Jeremiah bopped his head slowly and opened his mouth to offer more advice.

But, Conrad spoke before his brother could, “I gotta go find her, see you tonight”.

Conrad sighed as he paced back and forth outside y/N’s front door; both in frustration and worry over her not answering the door.

The lights were off in most of her house apart from the window that he knew connected to her bedroom.

The driveway was empty other than her car.

It all suggested she was home alone but choosing not to answer the door when he knocked.

His fingers reluctantly reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

Conrad was already feeling hopeless about getting a response via text from her since she hadn’t returned his calls nor did she answer the door.

Nonetheless, he had to try, so he let his fingers slide across his screen until he had composed a text message to send to his girlfriend.

TEXTS

Conrad dragged a hand drown his face as he returned his phone to his back pocket.

He knew he likely looked like a kicked puppy as he walked back to his car; his head hung and feet scuffing the ground.

As he buckled himself in, he took one last glance at Y/N’s house with a loud sigh.

“You should come tonight Con! Maybe, get your mind off all this” Jeremiah advised, walking into Conrad’s room.

“You forgot to knock” Conrad criticized without looking up at his brother’s entrance.

Jeremiah stepped back slightly, knocking the inside of Conrad’s door playfully, “now, are you coming?”

Conrad furrowed his brows and shot his brother an irritated look.

He then shook his head before staring back down at his phone as it rested in his lap.

“Dude, come on, you can’t sit here all night waiting for her to text or call” Jeremiah pointed out with a dramatic huff.

“I have to figure this out. I want to fix it…” Conrad confessed.

Jeremiah saw the determination and pain in his brother’s body language and frowned.

“And you don’t know what it is that you did?” Jeremiah investigated cautiously.

Conrad merely shook his head again and answered with a soft “no”.

Conrad's eyes shifted away from the ocean and to his right as he heard faint footsteps hitting the sand.

“Hi” Conrad whispered, his voice faint out of shock as he saw his girlfriend walking to him.

Y/n offered him a petite smile and waved as she came closer to him, “Hi”.

Looking up at her as she closed the distance between them, Conrad informed her, “I wasn’t sure if you were coming”.

He watched as waves of panic and sadness took over her facial features instantly.

They had a date night planned tonight, but given everything going on between them lately, he didn't know if she would show.

She sucked her lips in until he could only see a thin outline of them and nodded, “that’s fair”.

Conrad sighed and shook his head, “no, that’s not what I meant.. I just… are we okay?”.

Y/n took a seat next to her boyfriend and nodded faintly, “yes, Con, we’re okay. I’m just dealing with some stuff”.

He stared into her eyes for a moment, as if he were trying to read her troubles through them.

“And you don’t want to talk about it?” He asked, seeing the distant look her eyes held.

Y/n shook her head from side to side as she turned her gaze to stare off into ocean waves several feet ahead of them.

“Okay, I get that” he acknowledged, reaching for her hand that was resting on the sand between their legs.

Conrad held his breath as he waited for her reaction.

She let him take hold of it without resistance, but Conrad only found true relief when a few short seconds later she intertwined their fingers.

Yet, he couldn’t help but notice the slight hesitation she had in doing so instead of her normally instant behavior.

He snuck a gaze at y/n as she watched the water ripple in the ocean, the only sound surrounding them.

Using his free hand, Conrad silently opened the picnic basket on the other side of him.

He reached in and pulled out the bouquet of flowers he purchased for her.

“I.. umm.. I got you these” Conrad mumbled, unusually shy as he moved the flowers to the front of his body.

Y/n broke her stare at the ocean and turned just enough to look over at him.

As she did, her lips snapped into a gentle smile and her eyes became glossy.

Conrad picked up on her change in demeanor right away.

“Is it too much? I know you need space, I can get rid-“ he began offering.

Unbeknownst to him, his offer only increased the guilt she had felt swell up again upon seeing the flowers.

She rapidly shook her head, “no, it’s not too much. But, you didn’t have to get me flowers Con. I’m not mad at you, there’s no reason for you to apologize or offer flowers for it”.

Conrad was confused, to say the least.

He furrowed his eyebrows before lifting one up as he told her, “I ordered them the day before last, not because of whatever’s going on. They’re not meant as an apology".

“So.. wait. You got me flowers, just because?” Y/n squeaked.

Conrad nodded slowly, looking away from her as he nervously began to offer to undo it, “but if it-“

“Thank you” she interrupted, catching on to what he was worrying over.

“I just.. I don’t des-..thank you.” Y/n repeated, cutting herself off from the self-deprecating comment she began.

She squeezed his hand that she was still holding.

“When you’re ready to talk about whatever you’re going through, I’m here, okay?” He reminded her tenderly.

She smiled as she gracefully took the flowers and held them to her, her eyes zoning in on them.

“I know… but… It’s a long story, Con” she sighed, sniffing the flowers.

He stared at her, carefully taking in her words and body language, “you have my full attention. Always. For however long it takes”.

She raised her eyes and gave him a weak smile, “Thank you. I can’t even think straight to put anything into words… much less…”.

“I know” Conrad butted in, tugging her hand to him until she was closer.

He let go of her hand so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders comfortingly.

Y/n adjusted her sitting position as she had been sitting cross-crossed to hide her legs.

She moved until her legs were bent sharply, thighs hitting the back of her calves as she tried to shrink into his embrace.

“You’re not too hot?” Conrad inquired as he got more lemonade from the basket.

“No, why?” She implored, gratefully taking the glass bottle from Conrad.

Conrad chuckled, his deep laugh making her tingle, “it’s nearly one hundred degrees out and you’re in jeans”.

She faltered, eyes now resting on her pants, “Oh, that, yeah I uhh.. just didn’t want to burn”.

Conrad rested his hand behind him, bracing his back as he raised an eyebrow at her in suspicion , “I’ve known you long enough to know you don’t burn y/n”.

As she sat in silence, staring at her legs, Conrad panicked he overstepped.

But he could see the look in her eyes even though they weren’t looking at him, and he could see her deep sadness.

“Sweetie, what is it?” He pleaded, his cheek resting on his other shoulder.

“I’m fine” was the only thing she said.

Conrad decided not to push it any further at the moment and went back to focusing on their date.

It was only a handful of minutes later when y/n saw a girl in shorts running to what appeared to be her much taller boyfriend.

She bit her lip as the girl's boyfriend smiled with clear glee as he lifted her up into the air.

Y/n didn’t want Conrad to catch her watching the other couple so she began pretending she was scanning the whole beach.

Conrad was trying to make small talk but stopped when y/n turned back to their picnic with tears in her eyes.

Normally her eyes were a source of comfort and joy for Conrad, but right now they caused a sharp pain in his chest.

“Woah! Hey, hey” he frowned deeply, cupping her cheek, “why are you crying?”

“I'm not fine. I know I said I was, but, I'm not” she admitted as she repeatedly blinked in an attempt to keep the tears from falling.

Conrad nods sympathetically, “I know.. Are you ready to talk about it?”

With a loud sigh, she shook her head.

She wanted to get over insecurities instead of alerting Conrad to why she felt he shouldn’t be with her.

“Okay, that’s alright” Conrad hummed.

“Want some y/f/f?” he offered, holding a dish of her favorite fruit before her, in hopes of changing the subject to something neutral.

She smiled at the change in subject and nodded.

TEXTS

Conrad tapped his foot against the dirty recliner he was seated in as he reread his texts from the last few days.

He was still struggling to figure out what was happening to y/n and to their relationship.

It didn’t matter to him that he was currently at some party his brother and friend had dragged him to.

His mind was, as usual, stuck on y/n.

He didn’t even bother physically acknowledging it when his brother and Steven approached him at some point that night.

The boys stood before him silently for a moment.

“Do you think she’s seeing someone else?” Steven asked carelessly as he sipped on his beer.

Jeremiah aggressively smacked the back of Steven’s head as Conrad snapped his eyes up.

“No” Conrad defended, “y/n wouldn’t do that”.

Steven offered him a semi-apologetic curl of his lips, “I’m just saying man, it would make sense as to why she’s acting weird”.

Squinting harshly at his friend, Conrad argued, “distant, not weird”.

Jeremiah hummed in agreement, offering Conrad a beer.

Conrad pushed it away, not wanting anything to impair his analyzing of the situation.

“Same thing, only you’d see a difference in that” Steven stated with an eye roll.

Conrad sighed loudly.

Conrad knew he had always been great at causing distance with people whenever he wanted to.

Yet, it was beyond infuriating to him that he didn’t know how to fix it when someone else was doing that to him instead.

It also made him feel guilty for the times he had done this to her in the past.

But he simultaneously, slightly, wished if anyone were to be causing the distance between them that it was him doing it.

Because during those times, he could at least fix the behavior if he were the one doing it.

Yet that wasn’t the case now and to make it worse, Conrad didn’t even know why she was doing it.

So how was he to fix it?

“Oh…umm..!” His brother gasped, making Conrad follow his wide-eyed stare.

As Conrad’s head faced the door, he saw y/n and a couple of her friends had arrived.

He noticed y/n was biting her lips aggressively and avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room.

“I thought you said she wasn’t feeling like going out places?” Steven pointed out.

Jeremiah smacked his head again in response as he muttered for him to shut up.

Conrad ignored their bickering, as well as the pain in his heart, as he took in the uncomfortable body language she was displaying.

He knew something was wrong, and no matter the metaphorical distance currently between them, he needed to offer his help.

Even if she wouldn’t take it, he couldn’t bear the idea of leaving her to face whatever the discomforting situation was on her own.

“I’ll be back” he mumbled, not sure if he actually would be or not, as he stood up.

“Bro… maybe you should let her come to you” Jeremiah suggested respectfully.

Conrad hesitated as he debated the suggestion.

But as he watched y/n nervously fiddle with her fingers, he firmly shook his head.

Conrad steadily made his way over to her, watching as she tried to slip away from the other guests.

Just as y/n was about to side step another person and slide out the patio door, he grabbed her hand.

She stiffened in response, making him want to drop her hand.

But, when she refused to acknowledge him, he held on; determined to stop her from trying to distance herself more.

“We should talk” Conrad stated confidently, moving to the front of her to guide them outside, away from the party.

“I don’t want to talk” she argued, her voice clipped.

“Y/n, you’re not going to win this. I have far more experience being a stubborn recluse than you” Conrad smirked, changing his approach.

Nonetheless, y/n ignored him, only trying to remove her hand from his grip.

“Are you upset with me?” Conrad inquired.

“I told you, I’m fine” she snapped, biting her cheek instantly as she watched Conrad flinch at her sharp tone.

He pulled himself together, “No you’re not. Don’t shut me out”.

”Yeah, well, I shut everybody out. Don't take it personally. It's just easier." She remarked, pushing her guilt aside.

“I’m your boyfriend y/n, not some random person you just met. It’s different. I thought we were stronger than that” Conrad declared with a steady gaze.

”I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression." She retorted rudely, moving to go around him.

For a moment Conrad faltered, feeling his old ways of shutting down creeping back.

But as his eyes scanned the woman he loved, he fought the temptations to cause distance between them on his end as well.

Instead, Conrad took a deep breath and adjusted his grip on her hand.

“Why are you doing this? If I did something just say it, scream it at me if you need to” He groaned loudly, still holding her hand.

Y/n remained silent.

She was afraid if she spoke, she would end up saying something too harsh as she couldn’t fight the sense she needed to push him away.

But she also didn’t want to hurt him in the process.

“You’re pushing me away and you won’t even tell me why!” He shouted, clearly fed up with her recent behavior.

“Do you not care about us anymore? Because you’re sure not acting like it. Fight with me if you’re mad, 'cause it’s like you don’t care at all” Conrad complained.

He tried to wait patiently for a response.

But when he saw she wasn’t going to do anymore more than stare at her shoes, he rolled his eyes.

He pushed through the turmoil he felt to mutter his response, “fine. Whatever.”

“I don’t care about us either anymore” Conrad lied, begrudgingly dropping her hand in order to walk away.

“Good” y/n shouted, her back to him as she whispered, “because you deserve more."

But the wind caught her voice, carrying it the short distance he’d walked, and made Conrad freeze as it hit his ears.

He snapped his body around, facing her, “what?”

Y/n didn’t respond, not expecting him to have heard, and was now utterly shocked.

“Y/n, what the hell did you just say?” Conrad asked sharply as he stood right before her once again.

“You deserve so much better Conrad! Happy?! Now just go, like you said, you don’t care anymore, so just leave” she snapped, her tone showing she was trying to be harsh but her true emotions seeping through as her voice trembled.

“Take it back” he ordered, glaring at her.

Without permitting any eye contact, y/n only responded with, “just fucking leave, C-Con” .

He gripped her hand firmly but tenderly.

“No. You know I only said I didn’t care because I was mad. It wasn’t true. But the first part” Conrad frowned, “what do you mean by that?"

The moonlight reflected off her skin enough to show Conrad her damp cheeks.

Seeing this, he moved to close the distance and wipe her cheeks.

Y/n sniffled as she turned away from him, “stop, I can’t do this”.

“Do what?” Conrad pushed, pleased to be getting somewhere.

She looked anywhere but his eyes as she tried to form an answer.

“Look at me, y/n, please “ Conrad shamelessly begged, tilting her head to him, “what you said just now… I don’t und-… you think I deserve more than this, more than you?”

Y/n felt her tears stream down her face as she looked into his deeply concerned eyes.

She couldn’t believe he was gazing at her with only sincere love, despite her behavior.

She nodded, “much more, yes. So just let me go and-".

“Shut up” Conrad cut her off, shaking his head in disbelief.

Her lips slightly parted in response.

As he stroked her jaw, he declared “I’m not letting you go, not over something like this. Do you actually not want us to be together?”

Y/n began to answer, but he held up his hand, “take out this 'deserve' bullshit, do you still want me? Do you still love me?”

She let out a small sob and nodded, “yes, of course. Of course I love you. I… I… I am sorry I made you question that. That proves why you des-".

He harshly shook his head, “I know you still love me. That’s why I’ve still been fighting for us. If I believed you no longer felt the same way, it would hurt, but I wouldn’t push it on you. I know there’s more going on but, I can’t know what that is unless you talk”.

As she began trembling before him, he rested his hands on her upper arms.

Her lip began violently quivering as she broke down and started crying.

While rubbing her arms, Conrad noticed the way she glance at his chest and he smiled softly, “come here”.

Y/n didn’t hesitate as she moved closer and erased the tiny distance between his chest and hers.

Conrad hummed as she let his arms embrace her, “shhhh sweetheart, we’ll figure this out okay? Whatever this is, we can handle it”.

She nodded against him as he comforted her.

After he had gotten her to settle down, Conrad led them both down the beach.

He stopped their silent walk when they reached a quieter section.

“I need to know what you meant” Conrad testified as he helped them sit down.

“It’s pretty straight forward Con” y/n sighed with a defeated shrug.

Conrad kept arm around her.

He frowned in her direction as she sat to his right, “not to me. What makes you think I deserve more than you? What does that even entail?”

“Just… someone better for you” she whispered, voice so painfully soft.

Conrad’s eyes narrowed more and he turned her to him, “don’t you dare say that, you’re perfect for me. What are you talking about?”

“No, I’m not Conrad. I… I can’t give you what the other girls can” y/n mumbled.

“Which is?” Conrad pressed, needing more information.

“Y/n, what is it that makes you feel inadequate?” He questioned upon not getting a response.

“Baby,-“ he sighed as she wiped her eyes.

“I’m too tall!” Y/n blurted loudly before crying harder.

Conrad felt all his muscles freeze at her response.

But as her body shook with her cries, he pulled it together and embraced her, “I don’t know what to say to that. What’s wrong with your height?”

“I’m too tall, I can’t give you the aesthetic short girlfriend thing guys like” y/n explained.

“I don’t care about that stuff, I love you as you are. There’s nothing wrong with your height” Conrad argued defensively.

“Conrad, please. I can’t do that gazing up at you innocently thing, I can’t sit between your legs, you can’t pick me up and carry me, you don’t have to bend down to kiss me, and it goes on. I know guys find that romantic and attractive and I’m-“ she rambled, her mouth finally confessing all the thoughts she’d struggled with lately.

Conrad’s face scrunched as his mouth parted and formed a frown, his tongue pressed against his top front teeth.

“Y/n, you can stop. I get the idea of what you’re getting at. But it’s simply not true” he swore.

“Con-“ she sighed, ready to argue with him.

“No, see, I like being able to look straight at you, kissing you without having to even think about it or move my head” Conrad began, his thumb faintly touching her cheek as he cleared the tears from her skin.

“Plus, you can still sit between my legs! Sure, your legs will stick out, but there’s nothing wrong with that. I can still hold you in that way, y/n." Conrad assured her.

"And, if you want, I have no issue with proving to you right now that I can pick you up and carry you. I assure you I can do that no matter your height, darling” He asserted firmly.

She nibbled on her bottom lip with her top row of teeth and nodded weakly against his palm, “I’m sorry that I’m so insecure”.

“Shh, no, that’s not something you can control nor should you feel bad about” Conrad corrected kindly.

“Thank you Con,…are you sure nothing about it bothers you?” She hesitatingly asked.

“I promise, nothing you come up with in your head is anything I’ve ever thought about, let alone have a problem with” Conrad assured her, stroking her cheekbone.

“Not even that I can’t wear cute heels when we go out, the way the other girls would?” Y/n inquired, still feeling guilty over him not getting to experience certain things with her.

“I don’t care what you wear as long as you’re comfortable. You could wear slippers for all I care. But why do you say you can’t wear heels?” Conrad responded, noticing the way she herself seemed disappointed in it.

“It’ll make me quite a bit taller than you” y/n pointed out simply.

He nodded slowly, confused, “So?”

“That doesn’t bother you?” Y/n questioned, holding onto his hand that was resting on her face.

Jutting his bottom lip out slightly, he shook his head, “No, does it bother you?”

“Only because I feel like it limits your experiences, or that others would say things to you about it” y/n elaborated.

“They don’t. To be fair, they probably know better than to talk bad about you at all near me” he told her.

A small giggle formed at his protective statement and she snuggled into him, “ I love you Con”.

“I love you too. Is this something you’ve always been insecure about?” Conrad asked, keeping the conversation flowing.

“Kinda. I’m taller than my parents and brother, so it’s been odd.. and it’s one of the first things people tend to notice about me so it makes me feel like people are always watching me” Y/n told him.

“Hmm” he nodded in sympathy as he absorbed her story.

"If it helps, the first thing I noticed about you was your eyes" Conrad confessed, holding her closer to him.

She bit her bottom lip as she grinned widely, shyly looking down at the sand.

"Is there anything else?" Conrad asked, hoping the answer was no but not wanting her to stop talking to him about what she was struggling with.

“Umm.. also like my ex,… He was like an inch taller so he hated it when I wore heels and his friends commented on it all the time” she added, feeling comfortable disclosing this to him now, “that’s when I learned guys like short girls and whatnot”.

Conrad shook his head, more to himself than anything, as frustration towards and anger at her ex burned in him, “I’m sorry, he’s an idiot. It was his own insecurity and ego issues, nothing about you”.

Shyly, she mumbled a soft thank you to her boyfriend.

He pulled her closer to him, hating someone made her feel like she wasn’t good enough.

“I love you Y/n. You’re so beautiful, this isn’t anything you need to worry about” he advised.

She hummed and nodded her head, “everyone has their flaws I suppose”.

Conrad shifted his lips to the side, muttering, “perhaps, but your height is not a flaw. Not in the slightest”.

Y/n suppressed her fears and looked into his loving gaze, allowing her eyes to display her confusion.

“Y/n, have you truly looked at yourself? At your legs? While trying to push those thoughts away or try to see the benefits of your height?” Conrad wondered aloud.

“No, because I don’t see any” she shook her head defiantly.

He hummed softly, “love, you do realize most models are tall?”

She faintly smiled appreciatively at him, “I’m not a model though, Con”.

“Maybe not professionally, but -“ Conrad hesitated shyly as he normally isn’t this direct and honest, “you might as well be. I’m serious about you being the most radiant person I’ve ever seen”.

He ignored his shyness and grinned as she snuggled into him more, her small smile starting to grow.

“I mean, you’re gorgeous. Everything about you is… but, honey, you clearly aren’t aware of how sexy long legs are” he chuckled, his fingertips traipsing her hip.

“Sure, some guys like shorter girls.. But, babe… long legs are…, Whew” he confessed, his cheeks flushing red even in the dark.

“Really?” Y/n asked, a bit nervous but with the hint of a smirk on her face.

“Yes, I shouldn’t say this cause you’ll use it against me,” he laughed, noticing her smirking at him, “but to be honest… even as I say that, you using it against me honestly doesn’t sound all that bad”.

Conrad laughed to himself, “you know when you’re out there playing volleyball with those shorts or swimsuit bottoms on, your legs on display?”

Y/n watched silently as he shook his head, biting his lip in lust, “it does things”.

She pressed her lips together before giggling, “oh?”.

Accepting his fate of confessing all his internal thoughts to her, Conrad hummed in confirmation and nodded “the only downside being the urge to keep the other guys from staring. But, you can wear whatever you’d like, I’m used to being ready for war when we go out. I can keep you safe. So, as long as you’re happy with what you’re wearing, I don’t mind having to deal with their stares”.

Y/n felt the temperature in her cheeks increase significantly at his confession.

“Just so long as no one else gets to leave with you” he adds firmly.

She wrapped her arm around him, “Never Conrad. No one’s ever even tried to make me feel as loved and beautiful as you’ve made me feel tonight”.

Kissing his cheek, she laughed as she added “despite the fact I probably have mascara streaks on my face”.

Y/n continued to laugh and ran her hand over her face to get any of the aforementioned streaks off.

Conrad removed her hand from her face nicely.

He used his own thumb to tenderly lift the mascara stains himself, “you deserve to know. I know communication isn’t my strong suit, and I may never find words beautiful enough to describe how I see you… let alone all that you mean to me.., but I will spend the rest of my life searching for them and telling them to you as I do”.

Y/n sobbed and snuggled tightly into him.

One of Conrad’s hands stayed on her face to keep wiping her tears.

The other was resting on her thigh through the material of her skirt.

She was wearing a skirt that covered her legs down to right above her knees.

“Sorry for crying over this” y/n apologized, hand on his chest.

“You never need to apologize to me. Ever. And certainly not for crying. I’ll always be here” Conrad promised.

“Thanks. Sorry-“ she laughed as he gave her a look as if reminding her of what he just said, “-I mean, thank you and I’ll work on not shutting down and pushing you away while I work through this”.

Conrad relaxed, “I’m glad, thank you”

“No. Thank you Con,” y/n rebutted, cuddling into his embrace even more as he kept his hands on her legs.

“Is this okay?” He asked as he watched her gaze down at his hands.

She nodded with a smile, “ yeah, when it’s you”.

Y/n rested her head on his chest.

“If I do, or say, something that makes you feel worse, or starts those thoughts, please tell me” Conrad requested softly.

Nodding she whispered, “okay”.

Y/n smiled appreciatively against his chest, her fingers tracing random patterns on his shirt, “I doubt I’ll need to, but, okay. I appreciate your support and understanding baby”.

Conrad grinned at the pet name he hadn't realized he had desperately missed hearing, “no problem y/n, I want to help, just tell me what you need. Let me give you what you need?”

“Right now…” she relaxed into him more, “just keep me warm, it’s a bit chilly and y/f/n made me wear this uncomfortable skirt and sleeveless top”.

Conrad ran his hands over her arms immediately to warm her up.

“But, in terms of this stuff, just be you Con” she murmured, “I never imagined someone being so comfortable with, and actually pleased by, my height. It’ll just take time to remember this and have it be what comes first instead of the toxic thoughts from before”.

“I can do that,” he agreed, “what do you say we get out of here and watch y/f/m at the beach house, under blankets? … and depending on how cold you are, I can make hot chocolate”.

Y/n took in the weather, feeling the slight rain hitting her.

It was raining, but not bad, more of a sprinkling.

But, despite the skirt she was in going down to her knees, the thin material offered her no warmth.

Plus, her top didn’t cover her exposed arms at all.

“You know I’m always down for cocoa” She giggled.

Conrad combed her hair with his hand as he smiled at her, “Then it’s a date, let’s go gorgeous”.

He helped her up from the sand, his hands on her hips.

His fingers were causally stroking her hips and the very top of her thighs as he steadied her on the sand.

As she looks at him, y/n could easily tell Conrad was not even thinking about it, nor was he aware he was doing it.

It was then that she recalled him doing it before.

But it was only this time, now, after tonight, that she saw it as a good thing; now that she understands his feelings about her legs and height.

“I need to tell y/f/n and y/o/f/n I’m leaving” she groaned, looking over towards the party.

“Text ‘em?” Con suggested, seeing the tired look in her eyes.

She nodded, and while she texted her friends, Conrad used his group chat with his brother and Steven to update them on his change in plans as well.

When done, he smirked, “I think it’s time I prove this to you”.

Before she could even contemplate what he meant, Conrad had swiftly picked her up.

She gasped at first but then giggled at his behavior.

“You should hold on though, honey,” he said, not wanting to risk her safety.

She laughed and shook her head, “Con, you can put me down, I get your point”

He does as she says but holds her to him, rubbing her arms to keep her warm as they walk home.

“Can we try something?” Conrad randomly inquired.

“Sure Con” she sweetly replied.

“If you’re comfortable with it, hop on my back?”He suggested.

He knew she was in a skirt but that wasn’t why he checked if she was comfortable with it.

He was worried about her emotional status with the behavior since it had to do with her legs and her height.

Conrad wasn’t stressed about anything showing when carrying her on his back as he knew y/n wore volleyball/spandex shorts under any skirts or summer dresses.

She told him long ago she did that for comfort so she never had to worry about it if she ran or did something that would lift the material.

So Conrad knew that nothing would show even with her legs around him.

But he wanted her to be comfortable emotionally as well and didn’t want to push her too much.

He began leaning down as he waited for her answer.

“I don’t know if it’ll work, Con” she admitted worryingly, afraid he’d be disappointed if it didn’t work right when they tried.

“If not, that’s okay, but, I think it will” Conrad said, after analyzing her words carefully.

“Okay, “ y/n said, letting him sink lower so she could get onto his back.

She slowly lifted herself onto Conrad’s back, his hands immediately bracing her legs as she wrapped them around him.

Conrad noticed she had tensed at first, but soon relaxed as he tenderly squeezed her thighs.

He began slowly rubbing his thumbs over her legs as he securely held her up, her legs hooked around him with her ankles loosely locked onto selves.

He grinned at her ability to due to that, another benefit of her height.

Conrad was pleased as it added another safety measure that would ensure she couldn’t fall off easily.

“Want to change?” Conrad offered when they arrived at his house.

“You can pick whatever from my closest, or some of your clothes are here too in the dresser” he told her, letting her slide down his back and step onto the hardwood floor.

She bit her inner lip and gave him a smug smile, “are your black Cousins Beach sweats clean?”

Conrad laughed at her very specific inquiry, “yeah, I think it’s in the bottom left drawer. The matching hoodie you got me is hanging in the closet”.

“Thanks Con!” She cheered, rubbing up the stairs to his room.

He smiled to himself as he went to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate for them as she changed into more comfortable clothing.

Y/n changed quickly and bolted down the stairs, sliding into the kitchen with his socks she had on.

She wrapped her arms around him, adjusting herself to be able to rest her head against his head instead of his shoulder.

Conrad grinned widely as he let go of the spoon, resting his hands over hers for a moment in peaceful silence.

He hummed to himself before he resumed stirring the cocoa mix.

When he finished, he turned around in her arms, smugly eying her in his clothes.

Y/n caught his smirk and how his ego inflated at the sight.

She rolled her eyes playfully and reached for one of the cups.

Conrad tsked and held the cup up in the air, above his head.

But, since she’s not shorter than him, it was still within her reach if she tried hard enough.

He smiled as she raised an eyebrow at him and held her hand just before the cup to show him she could still grab it.

“See, another plus for you” Conrad pointed out, kissing her cheek.

“It doesn’t bother you that you can’t successfully tease me by doing that?” Y/n pondered, ready to bring her hand back down.

He shook his head, “Not at all, because, while you’re focusing on taking it from me as I’m holding it up over our heads..”

“It makes it easier to do this” He happily declared, her body pressed against him as her arm lingered in the air, eyes on the mug again.

Before she could react to what he was telling her, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

She giggled happily as she grabbed the cup and lowered it to the counter next to him.

Y/n pulled him closer for another kiss, her breath hitting his lips as she teased “you could kiss me regardless of my height, Con”.

He bounced head from side to side as if thinking deeply, “Hmm… true, but, look how amazing it is to be able to just…”

With that, Conrad pressed his chest to hers, closing the few faint inches between them again, and kissed her with ease.

“I love that” He whispered, his lips still hovering over hers.

Y/n picked up her mug and grabbed his hand with her free one before dragging him to the living room.

Conrad sat down and situated then on the couch, situating her between his outstretched legs.

She knew his arrangement was intentional but found it sweet nonetheless.

Y/n smiled and curled up into him.

Even though she knew why he arranged them like that, it still did help her feel more comfortable in her own body while around him.

Y/n and Conrad were snuggled up together as they watched the movie and snacked on popcorn; warm and relaxed in each other's embrace.

“By the way, these sweats, look incredible on you” Conrad suddenly whispered into her ear, his hand slipping into the pocket of his sweatpants she had on.

He watched as she bit her lip with faux innocence, “not only are they one of my favorite pairs of yours because, God they’re soft! but also…”

She turned to look into his attentive gaze, “I usually avoid black since it can make people look taller… But since you like that…”.

Conrad felt his grin grow until he knew he was smiling like an idiot, all of his teeth showing, “Fuck, I love you”.

Slightly out of breath, he added, “and yes, I do like that. You are stunning in everything, including black. Especially, if it’s my clothing”.

As he noticed how flustered she became, Conrad’s grin turned into a confident smug as he kissed her shoulder.

The bonfire had been going for at least an hour by the time y/n and Conrad made their appearance.

It was supposed to be a relaxing evening with miscellaneous other beach goers.

Yet, it started off rough as it was now already after dusk and upon arriving, y/n promptly hit her head on one of the hanging decorations she didn’t see.

Y/n bristled immediately as those in the crowd who noticed her mishap laughed.

It wasn’t like the decorations were hung low, she was just taller than most of the girls.

And, the darkness did not aid her clumsiness nor her height difference.

Had they gotten there before sunset, she could’ve memorized where the obstacles were prior to it becoming hard to see.

Conrad clenched his fist at his side as the scene unfolded, not wanting to make a scene for her sake but pissed at those who were laughing.

However, as he watched his girlfriend take a few timid steps backward before hastily spinning around to face him, he wanted to change his mind.

He could see her insecurity and embarrassment clear as day, making him frown.

Conrad stepped forward and cautiously formed a secure grip on her.

He glared at those who were laughing, as he whispered, “you okay?”

She took a deep breath, “Yeah, thanks baby”.

It wasn’t intentional but they had gone separate ways at some point that night.

Conrad had excused himself to use the restroom.

At the same time, y/n told him she was going to go catch up with a friend for a bit.

However, she soon became thirsty and made her way to the unstable drink table that was barely staying upright on the uneven sand.

As she did, she unintentionally overheard a group of girls gossiping with each other.

“I think they’re breaking up,” one girl said, y/n recognized the voice as belonging to this girl from the country club; Hannah.

“Really?” Another girl asked, this time it was a voice y/n didn’t recognize.

“Yeah, Jenny and I heard something about that. Y/n and him have not been seen out at many parties together lately. Which isn’t normal. Like, oh my gosh, the other night, she came with friends and Conrad came with Jeremiah instead!” Hannah exclaimed with a disgusting amount of glee.

“Damn, I wonder what happened. I thought they were good” one of the girls who had been silent earlier spoke up.

Y/n didn’t even bother trying to figure out who it was that was sticking up for her relationship.

Instead, she felt a sheet of heartache and guilt slam against her.

She knew she was to blame, after all, she caused the distance between herself and Conrad.

It was the distance she caused that made people gossip like this about him.

She didn’t care what people thought of her relationship except for when it involved their views or opinions on Conrad.

Only then, did she feel the need to revise or reprimand someone for a backhanded comment.

“Oh God! I hope so! ‘cause Conrad’s soooo hot” Hannah grinned, sipping on her beer.

Y/n wanted to run but couldn’t.

It was as if her legs were punishing her for being insecure about them, because they now felt glued in place.

“I know girl, and you’d be so much cuter together” Sara, an old acquaintance of y/n’s from a few years ago, chimed in, making y/n take in a sharp gust of air.

“Honestly, like y/n is freakishly tall, even for him,” Hannah said, twirling her hair around her long polished fingernail.

“Seriously! I mean, girl! Do those legs ever stop? She’s like one of those… what’re they called.. oh, Amazon, girls” Hannah’s friend nodded.

Upon hearing this, her legs seemed to have finally agreed with her mind that she'd had enough as they shakingly began to move away from the group.

Finally, her body had decided to cooperate and y/n started to walk back to the fire to get away from their gossip.

However, it was still futile as party guests had suddenly surged closer, making it near impossible to pass.

Y/N’s eyes searched the crowd for either and escape route or her boyfriend.

As she scanned the area, Y/N heard Hannah laughing obnoxiously, “like what’s the point?! Sure she’s pretty. I guess.. but, those legs?”

Y/n unconsciously dropped her shoulders even lower and hung her head as it if made her look shorter.

“She is waaayy too tall, she knows it too” Sara scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“You think?” Hannah questioned with a sadistic smirk.

“Yeah, I’ve never seen her wear heels. She has gotta know it’s gross how tall she is compared to him” Sara answered confidently.

“Plus, everyone knows a taller boyfriend and shorter girlfriend is much better, no wonder he is ending it with her!” The other girl agreed, winking at Hannah.

Y/n clenched her teeth together as she began pushing her way through, dropping her drink onto the sandy floor.

Conrad had been laughing as he visited with one of his friends.

However, every few minutes he had done a quick scan to make sure she was safe.

He had begun this habit long before she even mentioned any self-confidence issues; instead, it was done out of his normal protective tendencies.

Once again his eyes searched the sea of bodies as he tried to find his girlfriend.

He ignored his friend’s conversation as his mind and eyes went into tunnel vision upon not seeing y/n where she was the last time he checked.

Not wanting to be rude to his friend, he nodded along cluelessly to the conversation as he kept scanning for her.

Another thing Conrad loved about her was that her height made it way easier for his panic to calm as he could easily find her in crowds when he needed her presence or when checking on her status.

So why couldn’t he now?

“Jere, do you see y/n?!” Conrad asked in a slightly panicked tone, not caring that he was cutting their friend off mid-sentence.

“No, do you think she left?” Jeremiah wondered as he stood on his tippy toes to look.

Conrad shook his head, “no, man. Things had been better the last few days and she wasn’t shrinking herself as much or running off”.

He tapped his thigh nervously before he thought to call her.

Conrad unlocked his phone to call her, worried that maybe some guy had tried something that Conrad couldn’t hear due to the loud music.

He’d never forgive himself if she was in danger and he didn’t know.

As he looked at his phone, his eyes widened upon seeing he had a few texts and a missed call from her.

Conrad audibly cursed himself for not having his vibration on so he could feel the notifications even if the music was too loud to hear them.

His fingers dashed across his screen as he called her back, “I’m so sorry! I just saw. I’m so sorry, where are you baby?!”

Y/n loudly sniffled as she struggled to talk.

But Conrad could just barely make out that she was trying to apologize and to say he could stay and enjoy the party.

“Hey, love, it’s okay, just tell me where you are, please. I need to know” he redirected as he stood on the chair beside him.

“I’m by the lifeguard stand” she whispered.

Conrad shifted his gaze to look further down on the beach, away from the party, and saw her leaning on the tower.

“I am on my way” he promised, already sprinting towards her; not caring what people might be thinking of his sudden behavior.

When he reached her, he promptly wrapped her in his arms and held her to him within seconds of her turning to him with sorrow.

“C'mere. Sit down. Tell me what's going on” Conrad guided.

“I-I can’t stop the self-deprecating thoughts about my height” she muttered, ashamed.

He kissed her forehead, “I know it’s hard Yn, but please, don't listen to that voice inside your head, listen to mine."

She wanted to just agree and not tell him what happened tonight.

But she knew better by now.

“Con… I-it’s not just in my head though” she whimpered into his chest as she lowered herself deeper into the sand.

Conrad paused as he tried to understand what she meant by that statement.

Y/n began crying harder as her shame took over her mind.

Conrad once again knew he looked like a kicked puppy, his eyes wide and sad as his lips arched downwards at a steep angle, “oh sweetie... what happened? Did someone say something to you?”

Conrad tried to keep his protective anger in check as she nodded.

“Who? What did they say? Why-?” He began firing off questions.

“Doesn’t matter Con, they’re right. They too agree you deserve better-“ she interrupted, not wanting him to keep pushing for more details as to who said it.

“I’m going to strangle every last son of a bi-..., Y/n, love " Conrad broke, watching y/n crying against him.

He noticed she began leaning back as if thinking of shutting down and pretending she was fine.

“Hey, hey, hey, don't let them say that. You're beautiful,” Conrad assured her.

“They think I’m too tall for you, Connie” y/n pouted with a small sniffle.

“I don't care what they think, to me, you are perfect” he confessed, rubbing her back.

“It’s… it’s not just me okay? Guys in general think tall girls are hot” Conrad argued, seeing her doubt still present.

“Mmmh, I only care about you anyways” she smiled softly, her hand bunching the material of his shirt between her palm and fingers, “but it’s just hard because I know guys don’t and I… I’m sorry it’s just I feel like you’re just saying that to try and make me feel better”.

Conrad licked his lips and nodded, “one second”.

Y/n waited wordlessly as Conrad typed away on his phone screen.

“See! Look, Harry Styles himself says, and I quote, ‘tall girls are hot. Short girls are cute.’” Conrad read, setting his phone back down.

“HARRY STYLES. Your favorite, and he too says tall girls are hot. Now see, if he knew you, he’d know you were both cute and hot. But, I’m glad he doesn’t cause I don’t need that kind of competition” Conrad teased lightly, smiling down at her.

She choked on a small laugh and shook her head as she cuddled into him, “there’s no competition Conrad. You’re everything. I just want you to feel good about who you’re with”.

“Y/n, I never doubted that I wanted to be with you. Not even when I just had a crush on you, let alone now” he promised, playing with her hair.

Kissing the side of her head, he whispered, “You're gorgeous baby, come closer, let me spoil you with all my love."

“Cooonnnn” she said, squirming in his arms as he placed kisses all over her.

Conrad didn’t say anything and just kept kissing her in random places until she was laughing loudly and visibly happy.

“I love you” she breathed out as he let her catch her breath.

“I love you too. I’m not sure what was said tonight, but they’re wrong. They’re beyond ignorant if they cannot see how incredible you are. Whatever was said, I’m sorry honey and I wish you’d tell me what happened so I can help even more. But it’s not true baby” Conrad rambled, feeling as though she was in a better mood to talk about it now.

“Basically… They said you finally saw things clearly regarding my height and were breaking up with me because of it” Y/n tentatively explained, knowing he’d be protective.

“I know it’s not true Con. But-“ she added, seeing the concern mixing with his otherwise angry eyes.

“Who?!” Conrad growled, fist clenched in the sand.

“Connie, it doesn’t-“ she resisted, sitting up and looking into his eyes directly this time.

“Y/n. Who. Said. That. To. You?” Conrad repeated, his eyes ablaze.

“It wasn’t to me, I was trying to grab a drink and overheard them saying that stuff… and going on and on trashing me and my height” she admitted, hand on his tense shoulder to try and calm him down.

Conrad knew what she was attempting to do, so he took several deep breaths in through his nose.

“Y/n, I need you to tell me who this was,” he asked again, his eyes softening as he looked at her.

“Con, it doesn’t change anything” she argued, squeezing his defined bicep.

“You’re right, they’re still wrong regardless. But, this cannot go unaddressed” he stubbornly huffed.

She sighed softly in defeat “I only cared because it dealt with you, if they were just saying the insults it wouldn’t have impacted so much”.

“You now I’ve not been lying about how I feel about you, your height, and your legs right?” Conrad questioned, letting the sand sift through his fingers as he released his grip on it.

“I know Connie, and I’m working on trying to get over the thoughts I had before” she promised, giving him a smile.

“It’s just hearing someone say that, you, in particular, have a problem with my biggest insecurity; you know? I’m trying Con, I promise..” y/n muttered weakly.

“Hey, I know, and you’ve been doing so well and it’s not easy to get over insecurities. But, I’m here to help. I’m not mad it impacted you, babe, I’m mad that they were talking crap about you and claiming that I thought those things” Conrad clarified, seeing how his anger was misinterpreted.

She nodded, shifting herself around to have her back to him again, “thank you Con, I’m okay now. I just needed you; you know?”

Conrad snuggled into her, “I know. And, see, that’s another thing I love about your long legs honey. You’re always there to support me when I need it, but your height means you can hold me the same way that I hold you. Like how you did when I had a long night dealing with Jere and my mom, and I was really upset”.

Y/N’s mind flashed back to a few summers ago when Conrad was very overwhelmed.

Susannah had gotten sick again, the cancer suddenly spreading rapidly.

Conrad blamed himself for not catching it earlier as if he could’ve somehow seen it coming if he’d payed more attention.

It was during a night that summer when she saw Conrad fully cry for the first time.

She’d rarely even seen his eyes water during their years of friendship, but that night he was sobbing.

Y/n couldn’t imagine the grief and pain he was in but comforted him as best as she could nonetheless.

She had wrapped him up in her arms so tightly it was as if she was shielding him from the hurt.

He clung to her as he shook, opening up to her in a way he hadn’t before.

Afterwards he was embarrassed for having been so vulnerable and not coming off as some overly emotionally-strong person.

But he still told her how much he appreciated her presence and comfort.

Y/n silently smiled to herself as she recalled the scene and the way he was so pleased to simply have had her there.

Conrad smiled back as he saw hers, “see.”

She nodded, resting her head back against his chest, “it is nice”.

He chuckled softly, “yes, it is, y/n. I just love holding you all the time. Like this is perfect. But, when I’m needing to remind myself that you’re here with me and I have you for support…, having your arms holding me and letting me just rest in your embrace, with your legs wrapped around me to keep me even closer…, nothing could’ve helped more than that”.

She rubbed her head against his chest while extending her legs as she stayed seated between his legs still, but now tapping his left foot with hers.

Conrad quickly got the point and raised his leg slightly so she could hook her leg underneath it.

Y/n slid her leg against the sand moving it below his leg slightly, her foot arched back to press against his ankle.

Conrad smiled to himself as he clasped his hands around her torso, “I still have some questions I need you to answer”.

“Okay,” she complied, rubbing her foot on his ankle as best as she could.

With some resistance she answered his questions, informing Conrad on who said these things, and what exactly was said.

Conrad kept himself calm as he reminded himself that he needed to get her situated first and then he’d deal with them.

As such, he thanked her for answering and soon took her home.

After he knew she was safe and in bed, he went back to the bonfire.

It didn’t take him long to find the girls he was furious with.

He didn’t care if he was making a scene or not as he went on about how he loved her and that the alleged flaws they were gossiping about were only a small example of the ways in which y/n was the most beautiful person.

The girls merely gawked at him in silence.

Conrad concluded his night by informing them that he better not ever hear about them talking that way about y/n again and then headed home.

The next day, y/n woke up to text from mother saying there was something for her on the steps that she brought inside and set by the door before leaving.

Y/n yawned as she slowly walked downstairs and to the door, sleepily rubbing eyes.

Seeing an elegant white box with a delicately wrapped silk bow around it, her mouth parted.

Y/n moved the bow ever so slightly to the right as her eyes caught glimpse of a small note card.

It didn’t have her name on it, but instead, the card was labeled “Babe,” with a small heart in handwriting she immediately knew recognized as Conrad’s.

She shook her head and smiled to herself, carefully carrying the box back to her room as she texted him.

As she walked, she removed and read the note card carefully.

“Y/n,

I hope you don’t mind, but I told y/f/n that I wanted to get you some heels. You mentioned feeling like you couldn’t wear them with guys, and I don’t want you to feel restricted with me. If you don’t want to wear them, or rather they be returned, that’s okay. I just wanted you to have the option. Y/f/n mentioned these were ones you’d had your eyes on, so hopefully you don’t mind me getting them for you. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you and know just how stunningly beautiful your height is. I promise to keep reminding you of that until you genuinely feel it too.

Heels or no heels, Stand Tall Darling!

-Conrad ❤️”

Tears were silently streaming down her face as she plopped into the bed, barely reaching the edge in time.

She wiped her eyes and then dried her hands on her lap before moving the card over to her nightstand.

As she turned back to the box, she slowly and tenderly unwrapped the bow from around the box, watching as it slipped off the corners and onto her bed.

Y/n opened the lid of the box excruciatingly slowly as if it would suddenly bite her.

Inside the box was the exact pair of black Gucci heels she and y/f/n had found in town a few weeks ago when y/f/n was getting ready for an event.

Y/N’s fingertips traced the velvet as tears fell down her cheeks despite the smile on her face.

“Connie” she whispered lovingly into the air even though she was by herself.

She delicately placed the shoes back in the wrapping paper in the box before getting her phone resume texting Conrad.

TEXTS

Conrad came back later that night after spending time with brother and Steven as he promised.

He knocked on her door and excitedly waited for her to answer it.

They had a fancy/formal date night planned at a new restaurant in Cousins.

Y/n took a deep breath and adjusted her dress once more before opening the door.

Her lips parted, tongue no longer resting at the bottom of her mouth as she took in the sight of him dressed up in a suit instead of his casual beach clothes.

“You look so good Con” she complimented as she grinned at him.

He just stared silently at her as his breath became caught in his throat.

“Con? Umm,” she panicked, rubbing her hands on the edge of her dress that was resting on her thigh.

She was now worrying her height made the dress too short, “is it too short on me? 'cause-"

Conrad soon found his head rapidly snapping side to side as his attention came back around.

He was still in a bit of a daze as he responded breathlessly, “no, no that’s not it, it’s not too short, …you just- wow”.

A surge of confidence rushed through y/n and made her giggle as she played with her hair, “yeah?”

Conrad dazedly nodded, still struggling to voice his compliment, “I- wow…- I umm- …you-".

Seeing him flustered over not being able to compose a simple sentence, y/n stepped closer with newly found confidence now.

As a result, she only slightly noticed the fact she had to dip her head slightly to kiss him now that she was in heels.

Conrad took a moment to react, but slowly wrapped her in his arms as he kissed her back.

When they pulled apart, he blushed and rubbed his neck.

“Okay, let me try that again” he chuckled briefly and took a deep breath, “y/n, you look radiant”.

Y/n bit her lip, placing her hand in his hair, “good, I’m at your level then honey”

Conrad glanced up slightly to look at her and teasingly shook his head.

He smirked as he argued, “you’re a level higher”.

Y/n laughed at his shamelessly bad joke, “damn, you’re cute! Now, let’s go, I’m starving”.

“Why are you staring?” Conrad smiled shyly, setting his menu down so he could see his girlfriend.

“Oh, uh, hey” she giggled nervously, making him smile more, “I just wanted to remind you that I love you."

At her confession, Conrad’s smile grew even more as he sweetly hummed.

He reached across the table for her hand, “I know you do, and I love you too”.

She nodded, squeezing his hand, “thank you for everything Connie”.

He responded by lifting her hand to his lips as she shook his head, brushing off what he felt was her unnecessary gratitude.

“Wait! Stay still, you look so ethereal like this." Conrad blurted from his lowered car window as he neared her.

Y/n had been waiting outside as Conrad pulled the car up for her.

She fought to keep her eyes from watering at how wonderful he was.

She agreed to let him take a photo as he declared the moonlight was hitting off of her just right.

He smiled and showed her the photo, “You know what I see here?”

“A beautiful girl?” She asked, expecting that to be his answer.

He kissed her cheek, “well, that’s self-explanatory since you’re in it, but, yes”.

She slapped his arm playfully and smiled.

Conrad slid his arm around her with a smug grin, “I see my precious, beautiful, tall, smart, and all-around wonderful girlfriend”.

She beamed over at him, “I seriously think this’ll be a much easier insecurity to overcome than I ever would’ve expected thanks to you Con”.

Conrad’s smug changed to a prideful smile as he stroked her cheek.

Y/n pulled him to her as they stood beside his car, silently rocking in each other's arms for a while.

As they moved to get into the car, she stopped and held his face in her hand, "seriously, thank you Con”.

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fatehbaz · 1 year

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During the Florida Land Boom of the 1920s, entrepreneurs and real estate developers deployed creative tactics to woo potential clients [...] to invest in Florida land. [...] At Miami Beach, where Indianapolis-based entrepreneur Carl Fisher invested millions in resort development during the 1920s, tourists encountered a surprising attraction: elephants. Two elephants were brought to Miami Beach. They were named Carl II (named after Fisher himself) and Rosie [...]. Seeing the elephants’ work at Miami Beach positions these more-than-human actors in the histories of leisure in South Florida, as they signal the uncomfortable degree to which work and leisure were deeply entangled in this place. [...]

Carl II, came to Miami Beach from Peoria, Illinois, in February of 1921. According to the Miami Daily Metropolis, [E.B.], who owned several circuses in the Midwest, gifted the elephant to Carl Fisher [...]. “I am going to get a million dollars’ worth of advertising out of this elephant.” [...] Carl II also carried advertisements on boards hung over a saddle. [...] Infantilizing Carl II, as reporters often did in the Miami newspapers, seems to have [...] helped uphold his value as a toy of sorts, which supported the idea of Miami Beach as a “playground,” as it was called at the time. [...] [A]rticles stressed, however, that the elephant’s education would involve more than “play.” The Miami Daily Metropolis reported that “Carl, the elephant will be put to work.” This is coupled with language that strikes a disciplinary tone; the reporter stated that “he must earn his keep.” [...] Such work ranged from moving portable houses on the beach to pulling presses on the polo field. Carl also cleared mangrove swamps to make land suited for residential development [...].

Like other resorts that pandered to a growing middle-class market for leisure in the roaring 1920s, Fisher’s venture on Miami Beach was carefully curated as a “playground to the World.”

Just as Henry Flagler had separated “work” from “leisure” by building Palm Beach separate from West Palm Beach in the 1890s, Fisher kept his beach workers’ labor largely invisible - except when it enhanced the tourist experience of its middle- and upper-middle class clientele, as when the elephants caddied on the golf course or stomped divots on the polo field. Fisher’s plan was to attract visitors to Miami Beach to come back year after year [...] [and] to prompt permanent settlement in his island subdivisions. These subdivisions, like his hotels, were meant to be exclusive. [...]

And while this landscape depended on an African American workforce, the city enacted Ordinance 457 in 1936, requiring the more than 5,000 service workers at the time to “register.” In addition to being photographed and fingerprinted, Black workers had to carry identification with them. [...]

---

In March of 1921, Carl II lived at the local fairgrounds [...]. An article in the Miami Daily Metropolis that celebrated Carl II’s presence there also noted that “the fair doors are not open to the colored population this year.” [...]

Part attraction and part workhorse, Carl II moved across spaces dividing work and leisure, non-human and human, and Black and white on which Miami Beach’s status as a “tropical paradise” for the white leisured classes depended. [...] Carl II was shipped off to the Circus in 1926, the same year that a devastating hurricane struck the beach and brought the “boom” years to an end. His companion, Rosie, eventually met the same fate. [...] While Miami Beach was developed as a playground for the white leisure class, its success was inextricably bound with the labor force that built and sustained it.

---

Images, captions, and all text above by: Anna Andrzejewski. “Work, Play, and Elephants in South Florida’s Leisure Landscape.” Edge Effects. 27 April 2023. Published at: edgeeffects.net/miami-beach-elephants/ [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism purposes.]

#abolition #ecology #colonial

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

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I know Amilia and Hangman go through a rough patch. (So rough he marries someone else lol) But is there ever a moment when Jake think he loves Amilia?

Terms of Endearment Masterlist

Flowers // Jake Seresin

The first name that appeared across Amilia Fisher's phone when she finished her shift at the humble bar that seemed to be the heart and soul of North Island was Jake’s. More specifically, his name in her phone that she’d just recently changed after a small argument they’d had over the classic chicken parmigiana and the appropriate colloquial, abbreviation for such a dish. Parma or Parmi. Thus, American Idiot was what Amilia had appropriately coined Jake Seresin.

It was four simple words that made her heart ignite like it had been set alight and quickly became an uncontrollable flame. She caught herself smiling as she looked down at her phone, thinking to herself how the hell she managed to snag a guy like Jake. It seemed like it was something straight out of a perfectly planned out fanfiction. But the truth of the matter was Amilia Fisher was in love.

She just didn’t know it yet.

“You coming over tonight?” Jake asked as casually as he could, he didn’t really want to ask Amilia to come over. He didn’t want to sound too pushy or clingy or hopelessly obsessive, nor did he want her to think she wasn’t welcome any time. Because in reality she was, if Jake had it his way Amelia would never leave his humble abode. So he typed four simple words that could be interpreted as an open invitation that was easily passable if she wasn’t interested. The thing was though, Jake Seresin was in love.

He just didn’t know it yet.

He’d never felt this type of way before, so hopelessly devoted. Amilia had come into Jake Seresins life at a time where he wasn’t looking for something serious, hell he wasn’t even looking at all when she’d come barreling towards him at a thousand miles an hour. Leaving Jake with no time at all to take cover. He didn’t even have a second to brace for impact—all Jake clearly remembers was standing at the top of the North Island police station steps watching Amilia Fisher pace back and forth back and forth. But the moment he saw her? The moment Amilia stepped foot into Jake's world, his life, he knew that she’d be in it for the rest of it.

“Let me swing by the shops and grab a few things and I’ll be over.” Amilia typed back before she pocketed her phone and walked out into the carpark where Payback's old statesman was parked. It used to be his dads old car, which was then passed down the Rueben and thus, the keys were temporarily in Amilias hands while she was in the states.

For what it was worth, Amilia didn’t hate the nineteen ninety nine Holden WH series automatic, but what she did hate was the push pins Payback had used to pin up the roof lining that was falling apart. And she hated the tint on the windows that made it hard to see out of when it was cloudy. And she hated the way the exhaust chatted her teeth when she exhilarated.

“Drive safe, get here in one piece please.” Jake texted back just as Amilia was selecting a song, was Amilia going to let Jake's little jab at her driving affect her? No—but would she let him know about it when she arrived at his house just shy under forty five minutes later?

Absolutely.

“For someone who thinks I’m an ill equipped driver you sure do take up the offer of being a passenger princess in your own damn Ute an awful lot.” Amilia huffed as she carried everything she was bringing over to Jake's house for the weekend, in. He stood holding the door open as she dumped her bags and a few grocery bags full of snacks and essentials on the ground in the entryway. “Don’t shut the door, I have one more thing!” Amilia bellowed as she freed herself of all her belongings and jolted back out to Paybacks statesman, Jake just laughed from the threshold as he crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against the wooden frame.

“I asked if you were coming over, not if you wanted to move in.” Jake smiled, he wouldn’t mind if Amilia moved in. He’d thought about asking a time or to, but again, Jake had never been this serious about a woman before. Hell he’d never lived with a woman he was in a relationship with before. So the idea of being okay with wanting to live with Amilia Fisher frightened Jake to an extent.

Because Jake Seresin was well known to be a commitment-phobe. He’s never dated a woman he’s intended to marry. He’s never kept a truck he couldn’t afford to refinance and trade in. Hell how he’d stayed in North Island for as long as he had had his mind blown.

But Amilia Fisher made Jake question what he was doing. And he hated that he loved it. He hated that this crazy woman had him wrapped around her little finger. If Amilia said get on your knees and bark Jake would, because he was infatuated with her.

“Shut Up, I ain’t moving in asshat.” Amilia shouted as she ducked herself into the backseat. “I got you a present, but I don’t think you deserve them now.” Jake's eyes widened with surprise and curiosity as Amilia stood from bending over into the backseat of Payback's dads old car. There she held a giant bouquet of flowers. Jake didn’t speak as Amilia shut the door with her foot, walked over, fixed herself up and stood in front of Jake all sweet and soft and holding these flowers he didn’t understand why she had.

“Amilia, why are you holding a bouquet of flowers that’s bigger than you?”

“Well I couldn’t not get my favourite Government Owned Naval Lieutenant a present for his birthday now could I?” Amilia beamed, Jake's knees felt weak—he’d never been given flowers before. He’d never had anyone ever in his life buy him flowers. “Happy birthday for tomorrow Seresin, I just hope Felix left some sort of vase here.”

“You got me flowers for my birthday tomorrow?” Jake asked, surprise oozing from his lips as they twitched up into the corner of his cheeks as a grin was left behind as he reached out to gently take the giant bouquet from Amilia. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.” Amilia makes her way inside but not before she’s leaving a kiss against Jake's cheek. “You know most men don’t receive their first bunch of flowers until their funeral?” Amilia explained as Jake just stood there in the entryway admiring his flowers. “I just didn’t want you to become part of that statistic.” She shrugged before dropping down to fish out the small box from her tote bag. “Got you this too but you can’t open it till tomorrow.”

“What is it?” Jake asked as he followed Amilia into his kitchen, there’s a part of Jake that thinks if Amilia asked him to he’d follow her anywhere.

“It’s a positive pregnancy test—“ Amilia sighed dramatically as she looked for a vase to hold the flowers Jake still held. “I’m trapping you forever.” Jake laughed as Amilia turned on her heels and held a finger gun up. “Add baby daddy to your list of highly decorated credentials.”

“You think you’re funny don’t you.” Jake snarled teasingly as Amilia snickered back at him, still looking for something to hold these flowers.

“I do—but t’was only a joke, you’ll just have to wait to find out birthday boy.” As she found what she was looking for Jake couldn’t help but to just watch. He looked down at the flowers in his hand and back up to Amilia who was filling up the vase at the sink, then back down to the flowers in his hand.

Damn, Jake could feel his heart swelling and beating through his chest. He could feel the butterflies in his stomach that had ignited into flight. He could see his further clear as day, and Amilia was by his side. He never wanted her to leave, he wanted her to stay, always and forever. This was uncharted territory for Jake, he’d never felt this way for someone before.

“Hey, come here?” Jake placed the bouquet of flowers down on the kitchen table as he rounded the corner, trapping Amilia in his strong hold just as she placed the vase of water down. “Thanks for the flowers.” He mumbled against her neck from behind. Amilia just turned in Jake's grasp, working to wrap her arms up and around his neck as his hands lingered on her hips. “I really really appreciate the sentiment Oz—“ It had become her honourable call sign. “You’re pretty cool, might just have to keep you around.”

“My mum said she sent off a box full of Australian snacks that should be here in a few days. I thought we could binge watch that new season of Outer Range together while we make ourselves sick on Tim Tams and Pizza Shapes.” Amilia smiled bright as Jake leaned in to take her hips hostage with his. Giggling against him as Jake lifted her up onto the bench.

“It’s a date baby.” Jake cooed as his hands came up to cup at Amilias cheeks, kissing her slowly while his heart filled with the idea of having this, having her, forever.

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire—Jake Seresin was in love and he finally knew it.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014 @blindedbythelightt @averyhotchner @emma8895eb @blairfox04 @caitsymichelle13 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @teacupsandtopgun @aemondssiut @feltonswifesworld87 @akalei349 @notjustsomeblonde @americaarse @avaleineandafryingpan @phoenix1388 @xoxabs88xox @je-suis-prest-rachel @pono-pura-vida @rosiahills22 @starset21 @anarchyrising @caidi-paris @starkleila @criticalroleobssedperson @enchantingdreamergothprune @flrboyd @emma8895eb @endofdays56

#terms of endearment// jake seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x oc #jake hangman seresin #jake Seresin x female oc #hangman fic #jake hangman fic #top gun hangman #hangman seresin

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the-remarkable-redway-simp · 6 months

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1000 words of simping over Redway? I am all ears. (Please spend some of those words on his hair? Pretty Please?)

First off: anon, ILY

Secondly: I DM'd the author to find out their preferred method of citation and they said APA so, behold, my masterpiece:

Simping for Redway: an essay of slightly less than 1000 words

E.M. Anderson, the writer of THE REMARKABLE RETIREMENT OF EDNA FISHER alleges that Redway, the villain of said novel, is not meant to be simped for. I dispute that and allege that while it may not have been the author's intention, the text supports that he is simpable. In this essay I will provide cited sources from the text of the book that will prove he is indeed simpable.

(Goes without saying, now, but SPOILERS FOR THE REMARKABLE RETIREMENT OF EDNA FISHER BELOW, PROCEED WITH CAUTION)

First, anon asked for me to go on about his hair, so I will. I’ll dedicate this paragraph to appearance in general, actually, since E.M. also stubbornly insists they didn’t intend for him to be attractive. However, I would contend that anyone who is described as having “reddish hair, shot through with silver… pulled into a short ponytail.” (Anderson, p. 294) is, objectively speaking, at least a little bit attractive. Now, I have to admit I have a liking for red hair, to the point where I spent an inadvisable amount of money on dyeing my hair red between the years of 2015 and 2017, to the point where my nickname those years was, in fact, Red. Because apparently the most defining aspect of my personality was my hair. Now the most defining aspect of my personality might be my simping for Redway, to the point where I’m spending my Sunday night writing an essay about simping for Redway. Maybe I should’ve just dyed my hair again, might’ve been a smarter choice, but anyway, to carry on: while I will admit that having a weakness for red hair prejudices me toward simping for him, which is why I will carry on with further evidence of why Redway is lowkey hot. In the very first scene he’s seen in, he is described as having “blue eyes that were unfairly piercing” (Anderson, p. 37). The author even goes as far as to say “humans weren’t supposed to have such eyes” (Anderson, p. 37). It is therefore my contention that it is entirely understandable that Redway is objectively good-looking.

However, lest I be accused of being shallow, I will move into my real reason for simping: this man is incredibly secretly soft. I would allege that E.M. Anderson is incapable of writing a character who isn’t, on some level, incredibly secretly soft, but since I don’t have time for a rundown of every character in every published and unpublished work they’ve written, I’ll focus on Redway. For example, he raised his favourite dragon, Copernicus, from an egg, and no matter how cranky he gets he has a soft spot for that dragon, even allowing him to lay with “his massive head in Red's lap” (Anderson, p. 143). What’s cuter and more simpable than someone who loves animals? I, for one, am a cat person, and dragons in this book are basically massive cats. Who hasn’t had their cat lay on their lap and refuse to move regardless of what you want, truly.

Now, you may be asking, what else is so cute about this guy besides the dragon thing? Maybe you hate animals and feel like he’d be more simpable if he did too (in which case, are you okay?). Well, he’s also an anxious babygirl who needs snuggles to sleep; after a nightmare, while sharing a bed with another character (Shira, who is honestly worthy of her own essay), he “curled around her athletic form, burying his face in her curls” (Anderson, p. 140). I mean, come on, he’s so sad and anxious! And that’s not even going into the deep spoiler territory of why he’s so anxious, although I will say that ties back into how he loves dragons, and honestly if E.M. didn’t intend for people to simp for him they really shouldn’t have given him such a sad backstory, so that’s on them, really.

He's also useful! How many men do you know who help with chores, but Red can not only carve “rooms and hallways into (the mountain) by magic” (Anderson, p. 40), he also peels potatoes with magic. He might be a villain, but hey, at least he doesn’t do the whole weaponized incompetence thing to make women do all the work for him.

There is a lot more I could say, but I already spoiler-warning-ed once, and anything more I can say would go into ruining-the-ending territory, which I don’t feel comfortable doing until the book is out for at least a year because that ending really hits you right in the feels if you don’t see it coming.

To conclude, I allege based on both appearance and pathetic anxiety levels, Redway is objectively simpable and that should be accepted by more people.

Works Cited

Anderson, E.M. (2023). The Remarkable Retirement of Edna Fisher. Hansen House. Kindle Edition.

#the remarkable retirement of edna fisher #redway #redway simp #villain simp #in this essay I will #E.M. Anderson

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elliesgaymachete · 1 year

Text

I think if we saw more text communication with team machine Root absolutely would be That Person who uses Too Many Emojis. Like, her texts are sometimes incomprehensible Carrie Fisher levels of emoji use and it pisses Shaw off so much (Shaw has never used an emoji in her life and won’t start now)

Fusco has to translate all her texts for everyone else because he has a kid and has had to learn how to read emojis (though his emoji literacy is only at like 60% so there are some gaps)

#poi #root #sameen shaw #lionel fusco #yes I’m at the point in the hyperfixation where I’m headcanoning #four alarm fire #shoot

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ryverbind · 1 year

Text

Faceless Fixation {Sal Fisher}: Strawberry Lipgloss [8]

"Okay," I tell dad through my sleepy eyes and groggy voice. "I have to make this believable." Dad nods ferociously, eyebrows drawn together curiously.

"So, excuse me for a moment," I say, holding up a finger and clearing my throat. Then, I scream a good, long, loud, unnecessary scream.

Dad flinches and I can't help but smile when he glares at me, clicking his tongue and undoubtedly disapproving of my unsavory tactics.

I finish my scream and cough a bit. That should be enough, seeing as I've managed to kickstart a scratchy throat.

I fish my phone out of my carry on bag and dial my boss's number. He ends up scowling at my excuse, but I think my coughing and hoarse voice passed his bullshit test. I promised him I'd be heading to the doctor while taking my day off.

My bags were packed and ready to go right before I headed to bed last night. I only left out a change of clothes and my toothbrush and toothpaste for the morning before packing them too.

I packed my mask as well. I wouldn't be meeting The Faces without it, after all.

A nervous smile pulls at my lips as I think of the intricate purple mask hiding safely in my luggage. I'll be putting it to good use for the first time ever tonight and the reminder sends a rejuvenating pulse through my body.

I'm going to be boarding my flight in about two hours and I'm so excited that I physically and mentally cannot stay still. I'm fantasizing about our meeting, wondering how it'll go.

Larry would probably notice me first and know that I was there. He would jump around like a lunatic and hug me, then try to pick me up with his little lanky self. I'm genuinely looking forward to finally being able to see his long, luscious hair that he's been growing since he was a teenager.

I haven't seen a photo of Larry since he was eighteen-- he's nearly twenty three now, so I'm sure his hair is incredibly long. He better not have cut it.

Sal will, hopefully, not associate me with a certain Lexi. But would he be kind to me? Would he recognize my voice?

I don't know what to expect of Todd, seeing as he's such a formal guy, but I know Ash is going to know me just by stance alone.

I can't wait to embrace my best friend, feel her warmth and the rush of emotions that'll come with finally being reunited.

I carry these thoughts with me as I tell my dad goodbye, giving him a tight hug and promising to stay safe. I ponder a bit more as I pass through security. I giggle and smile to myself while waiting outside my gate, and I pull out my phone to text Ash just because I can't keep all this excitement to myself as I settle into my seat towards the back of the plane.

All this excitement made the time pass ridiculously fast.

My veins are filled with never-ending adrenaline. My sleep-deprived brain is running on straight expectations and hope. My heart is pumping out optimism and begging for a break, but my mind doesn't let up. We're going to hold onto these positive emotions until we have to go home.

Me hiya ashy!! how's vegas? :P

Ashers <3 Hi baby!!!! Vegas is awesome so far. We're up at the crack ass of dawn (Larry and Sal hate it but Todd and I are troopers) for a meeting with some other popular streamers out here. I think it's some kind of breakfast meet and greet thing??? Idk. But how are you!!

Me well, not suffering like you guys lmao. just getting ready for an 8 o'clock shift. the usual.

Ashers <3 Yuck :( make sure you punch your boss for me. He's the whole reason I won't be seeing you!!!

Me no issue there. i've been waiting to lay a good one on him for ages. you're just giving me a good excuse to actually go through with it :3

Ashers <3 That is my job as your bad influence ;)

Me prayer hands to that, babe. wouldn't be where i am today without miss ash's guidance <333

Yes, I know, I should just tell Ash that I'm literally about to take off on a flight headed straight to Las Vegas, but the prospect of surprising her-- seeing the elation and shock on her face-- I can't pass that up. This'll be worth it.

"Would you like something to drink before we take off, ma'am?"

My head flies up and I meet a flight attendant's smiling gaze. Her lips are a fiery red, her hair meticulously and beautifully fixed into blonde waves flowing down her back.

I gape at her beauty for a moment before smiling politely. "Um, would you happen to have coffee? Or tea?" I ask after a moment, wincing at my own awkward question. I just really need some kind of caffeine.

"We have both!" she chirps, her sweet voice reminding me of Ash's. I can't help but smile wider at the connection. "Which would you prefer?"

"Coffee, if possible," I say, squeezing my phone a little tighter in my hands.

"Great! Creamer and sugar as well?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you!" I tell her, to which she nods then walks over to the seat in front of me to ask the people ahead the same thing.

I glance down at my phone again just as our pilot announces that we'll be taking off within a few moments. That means I won't be able to talk to Ash for a bit.

Ashers <3 Aww, you're too sweet, my little love. I'll always be here to catch you when you fall :D

Me i would hope so!! i have to go though, so i'll text you in a bit when i get a break, kay?

Ashers <3 Sure thing, sweetness! Se latrevo <3333

Me ermmmmm i love you too??? if that's what that means?

Ashers <3 It's Greek for "I adore you!!!"

Me cute <333 se latrevo too (LMAO)

I close my phone with a smile as the wheels of the plane start moving, only gaining speed as we practically fly down the runway. Exhilaration takes over my entire body as I look away from the woman beside me and stare at the fast moving objects outside of the little window.

The plane lifts from the ground and my stomach practically jumps in my body, all my limbs tensing up as I cling to the tray in front of me. That's it, I'm officially unable to go back on my last-minute plans.

It feels a bit refreshing knowing that I have no other option now. For the longest time (all night and all morning), I didn't think I'd actually be able to do it, but here I am. And I'm so proud of myself for this.

With my head held high as my coffee gets placed down beside me, I look around the inside of the airplane, glancing away from people who suddenly meet my gaze. I'm not embarrassed though, I'm on top of the world right now. There isn't a single thing that could turn my mindset around.

I'm going to finally fucking see my friends!

My eyes travel along the various rows of seats that I can physically see (which isn't all that much) and I'm momentarily blessed by the sight of a little fur baby passing by my row.

I perk up a bit more instantly, smiling as the woman sitting beside me spews out an audible, "Oh my goodness! Look at that baby!"

I watch the exchange between the woman and pet owner, noting the yellow lab who sits right on top of its owners feet, tongue hanging out of its mouth like it doesn't have a care in the world. The little vest around it's body catches my eye and I find myself respecting the lady beside me for not reaching out to pet the sweet baby. It's a medical service dog.

"What's their name?" The woman beside me asks, smiling down at the dog who pants heavily.

"Her name is Yeager," The owner says proudly, giving their dog a little head pat. "She's a cardiac alert dog, so thank you for letting her do her job."

"Oh, no need, honey!" The woman says politely before smiling at little (well, rather large actually) Yeager again. "What a hard-working little thing! She's such a good girl."

Watching the exchange suddenly turns into a horror movie for me, actually, it's a bit more like a nightmare in which I can't wake from. You know, when you're being chased but you physically can't move. That's exactly how I feel-- the freeing feeling of taking flight is replaced by the very obvious realization that I can no longer escape the personal hell that I've stuck myself in.

Fuck. Oh no.

I've really made a terrible mistake. Why couldn't my father have let me cry for a few days?

Is there any possible way for me to get off this plane? I don't care if I lose my life. It's better than landing in Vegas within the next hour.

We're already over three thousand and something feet in the air and probably traveling over a hundred mph, but maybe I can just... you know... pop open the emergency hatch and launch myself out of it. At least everyone would be able to talk about how I went sky-diving at my funeral.

The woman and the owner of Yeager continue to chat for a bit while I try to contain my flaming cheeks and wide eyes, pushing down the memory that holds me in a vice grip-- it's like I'm bound in chains, forced to listen to everything all over again.

How could I have forgotten? And worse, why did this woman calling a dog a good girl resurface the fucking memory? I'm losing it. It's official.

I was so preoccupied with not being able to go to Las Vegas that I forgot why I really shouldn't fucking go. And now it's too late.

I completely ignored the lingering memory of one of the most exhilarating nights of my life.

Yea, I'm an idiot. An unremarkable one, mind you, who was, again, reminded of Sal and I's salacious act simply because a woman uttered the words "good" and "girl" to a dog. The dog isn't my issue because she is, in fact, a good girl. I'm just shocked that I've traveled this low on the pyramid of idiocy and lunacy.

Sigmund Freud really would have loved me.

I finally decide to just duck my head down and let it rest on my tray, nearly knocking over my fresh, scalding hot coffee. My eyes are still wide as I cross my arms around my head, my cheeks still burning with the rage of 25,000 babies being denied titties. I mean, what better way to explain how betrayed I feel? And not to mention, I'm the damn betrayer. I've betrayed myself. Larry would be proud of that statement, at least.

Sally and I haven't talked about what happened-- nor do I want to talk about what happened (it's unavoidable). We haven't even spoken since he left me hanging like a little bitch when Larry jumped into the voice chat and scared the orgasm out of me.

Somewhere, somehow, my unconscious brain decided it would be a fantastic idea to have the conversation with Sally in person. Now, I'm forced to do just that. Fucking hell.

I gulp down my overwhelming feelings. There's no going back now, unfortunately. I'll just have to devise a plan that keeps Sally Face's mouth shut until we're alone (which I pray never happens) or until I'm back home, safe and sound.

Actually, this might be good for me. Sally, despite his shitty vendetta against me, is actually pretty shy and quiet in person. I doubt he'd be brave enough to say anything out loud, so maybe this will prolong the time I have before having to talk to him about our weird phone sex thing that happened the other night.

I mentally pat myself on the back. Maybe I'm not all that dumb. I, miraculously, have some kind of intellectual influence deep down for me to be this smart about avoiding an unwanted talk with my enemy. Perfect.

Doesn't change the fact that Sally is dangerously hot though, by the way.

Either way, I have to look Sally in the eye later knowing that I heard him beating the crap out of his dick to the thought of me. I'll never forget it, and part of me doesn't want to. It was really good.

And I'll also have to look him in the eye knowing that I completely submitted to him and tried to defy him in the end. And he'll know that too.

The thought makes me shiver and I feel like I might vomit for a moment. Whether I have to talk to Sally or not about what we did, I absolutely have to be near him tonight even if I don't want to. I can't escape his presence any longer.

If I think about my future dilemmas any more, I actually will jump out of this plane and risk everyone else inside of it the second I open this emergency hatch. Which, by the way, said emergency hatch is perfectly placed beside me like it was planned out beforehand that I'd sit in a place where I could make a quick getaway. That's it, death by sky-diving is my destiny.

Fuck this-- not like I can actually go back to twenty minutes ago and step off this plane. My fate is sealed and so is my fucking seat belt.

I huff out a quiet, pitiful sigh and close my eyes, wiggling in my seat to get into a better position. My coffee will go cold, but it's better than stressing over the near future knowing I had no time to prepare. Not to mention, any announcement from the pilot would probably stress me out and make me think I'll die. So a nap will do better than my anxiety will for the next hour.

And my nap turns out to be atrocious. I'm trapped in a cage, Sal's tattooed arms chaining me in. It's almost morbid-- especially since I still took the time to trace every inch of what I could remember about the intricate designs on his skin. I am a mess even when asleep and the messy part of my brain follows me into the waking world when a gentle shake startles me from my stupid ass dream.

I throw my head up, eyes wide as I turn to the woman beside me. She has a gentle smile on her lightly worn features, a couple grey hairs peaking through the dark strands that hang over her shoulder. She has a bag in her hand as she stands and people rush past her.

We've landed.

I take a deep, sleepy breath and smile at the woman. "Thank you," I mumble the raspy words, stretching quickly before standing up. "Didn't realize I slept so long."

"That's alright, sweetie," the woman says comfortingly. At least she's nice-- though, I'd gathered that much from the way she spoke to Yeager earlier. "Just wanted to make sure you got off the flight." She gives me a little nod then turns, walking off of the plane.

I deflate in my seat and watch a wave of jet-lagged people pass through the aisle in front of me, waiting for the crowd to clear up before I start gathering my things. I'm in no rush now, remembering that I'll be seeing Sally Face come nightfall.

But I'll also be seeing Ash, Larry, and Todd...

I lift myself from my seat with a grunt and push past a few people to quickly grab my bag from the compartment above my row of seats.

After getting off the plane, waiting for my second bag isn't too rough. It takes a good ten minutes for it to finally pop up on a conveyer belt, but I take off to a Starbucks next to the bag pick-up area to grab breakfast, which consists of a bagel, a cake pop, and a peppermint mocha frappuccino because it's my favorite bitch coffee ever.

I travel through the airport, one bag on my shoulder (which holds my breakfast) as I drag my suitcase behind me and glance around with my green straw in my mouth, constantly sipping on my cold coffee that is ten times better than whatever I ordered on the plane, clearly, since I ended up throwing it away anyway.

People whiz past me, disappearing up escalators or squeezing through packed doorways. I don't wish to be anywhere near it, I mean, who would? That's an anxious nightmare, but I know I'll have to subject myself to that torture eventually. I might as well just get it over with now so I can hail a taxi and get to my hotel. Then, I can hide for the rest of the day until tonight.

I push past a few people as I make my way to the doors leading out of the airport. I wish I could get a good look at my surroundings because the airport is ginormous, but I'm too focused on getting out of dodge. I have so many things I want to look forward to and want to avoid all at the same time, but I can't do that until I finally have time to relax in my hotel room.

I manage to panic enough to the point where I disregard anyone ahead of me in line and just grab a taxi toward the back, more than ready to get to my hotel and crash for the next few hours. I don't even want to think about how excited I am to see Larry, Ash, and Todd because the fear of seeing Sally just completely ruins it.

So I get dropped off at a plain Hilton a couple blocks away from the strip at about twelve in the afternoon, check into my room, and drag the remainder of my dignity as well as my heavy bags up a few stories before finally just crashing onto my bed.

I want to cry because I'm starting to wonder if this was a bad idea, but I am in Las Vegas. Dad paid for me to come visit my friends, so I have to do it. I'm sure it'll work out anyway. I doubt it'll turn out too bad, my head is just messing with me like it always does.

But right now, things just suck. The only good thing about my trip at this exact moment is that my bed is insanely comfortable. That's a pretty awesome outcome seeing as I just want to sleep to ignore all of my worries.

My day seems to fly by as though it's been sped up. My plane ride was made quick due to me being so much of a mess, and now my day is gone since I somehow wake up at about six in the evening.

I'm too distressed to put an actual meal in my stomach, so my dinner consists of complimentary cookies that got dropped onto my tray in the airplane. I can't stomach anything more than that. And for the rest of the time, I watch a few reruns of The Office, tucked into the sheets of my bed with the comforter pulled up to my chin.

At some point, I lift my phone that's been laying face down on my bed to see a missed call from Ash, a few texts in the Discord chat, and then I notice that it's fucking 8:30 pm.

On a normal day, I'd use my lateness as an excuse to just not go altogether, but I didn't waste dad's money and I didn't come all the way here to not see my friends.

I can call, well, talk to Ash later. She'll be seeing me soon anyway.

So, I jump out of bed with a frustrated curse slipping past my lips and run into the bathroom beside my bed. It's a small room, not like I need anything big. I'm just one person.

I'll have to be... fashionably late, I suppose. No issues there. I'm sure many people are going to show up late. It's not like it'll end thirty minutes after it begins, right?

I take a quick shower, blow dry my hair, and put on some eyeliner and mascara. I'm not trying to make a statement. If anything, I'm trying to fly under the radar. Hopefully the little bit of makeup conceals me from being recognized. The last thing I want is for Larry or Todd to recognize me as y/n.

After my face and hair are done, I throw on fishnets and tuck a Fall Out Boy shirt into a black skirt that rests on my hips, then I throw on my worn black and white, hightop vans.

It's nothing special. My boi Kieran said to wear whatever, so I am. At least the fishnets add a little fun to the look.

My last little addition is the mask I bought just a few days ago. It feels as though it weighs hundreds of pounds in my two small hands. But not in a bad way-- I just cherish it so much that the weight of its unspoken value almost seems to double as I simply gaze upon it.

With a breath, I situate it onto my face, tucking the straps under my hair.

I pack a few bills into the back of my phone case and check my bank account, making sure I have a bit of money there too in case I need it. Then I finally run out of my room and out of the hotel in general, hailing a taxi who takes me through the city, adding another thirty minutes to my trip because of traffic.

Despite my poor punctuality, I can't help but feel mesmerized by all the tall, lit up buildings swarmed with people. And once the MGM Grand comes into view, I feel nervous with all the people hanging around the entrance like a pond of alligators waiting to feast upon my bones. It's a scary feeling, but hopefully I can squeeze past everyone and find where I need to go.

My taxi stops in the middle of people, right in front of the door. It's worst case scenario-- I have to step out in the middle of a raving crowd. I don't want that, but what else can I do?

I scramble out of the car, swinging around in a panic when the taxi screeches off behind me. I stare at the spot that repopulates with people instantly, all chatting and looking up at the giant, towering building in front of us.

It's hypnotizing, beautiful. I feel dizzy just by staring up at the roof that covers the driveway before I look over to the doors that almost seem to glow. But unfortunately, the moment doesn't last long because I can't see much through the ridiculous amount of bodies in my way.

Las Vegas sucks while I have my feet on the ground. There are way too many people which makes the views hard to enjoy, especially as I find myself fighting through everyone in my way who just wants casino's.

I eventually stagger through the doorway, trying to hold myself back from running over to a desk with a few workers hanging around. Damn, I really want to go back to my hotel. I've had enough of being around people today.

My stomach feels queazy and my limbs tremble a bit as I take quick steps, my presence easily gaining the attention of a lady working behind the counter.

She smiles politely at me, but a curious, almost wary look crosses her gaze as she watches me walk up. She's probably confused by the mask, but I don't have the time or the desire to explain why I'm wearing it.

"Um, hi," I murmur, smiling carefully. "I'm trying to, uh, get to the roof. For the party." The words are almost too quiet, so I force myself to speak louder despite the tremor tainting my voice.

"Oh," the woman says sweetly, still eyeing me carefully. "I need to see your invite, then." She's kind, but something about her forced expression tells me she fucking hates her job.

I pull my phone from the waistband of my skirt and open up my email to get to the invite before passing the device to her. I watch as her eyes scan over my phone and she purses her lips before handing it back to me.

She looks down, grabbing a clipboard. "Name?" she asks.

Yikes. I mean, it wouldn't be my actual name right? Kieran doesn't know me-- he only knows Vi.

"Um, VioletViolence," I whisper, cracking my knuckles and trying to keep my feet still. I don't need to scuff up this nice floor.

The woman's eyes narrow as she drags her eyes over the paper, flipping it to another sheet before her eyes widen a bit, "Aha!" she exclaims, like she's proud of herself. "Here you are. I'll give you a passcode for the top floor, you have to put it in as soon as you get into the elevator. After that, you're good to go!"

She cheered up a lot. I guess it helped to find out that I'm not some random crazy person.

"Oh, okay. Thanks," I smile cautiously.

Turns out, the passcode to the roof is 1989, just like the Taylor Swift album. That'll be easy to remember.

I punch the code into the elevator nervously, watching as a little green light envelops the button for the roof. Then, I travel slowly upwards for what feels like five full minutes until the doors finally open up to a party that practically smacks me in the face.

I look through the crowd, my heart beating wildly while a mix of electronic and rock music pulses in the air around me. People take up almost every inch of space on this rooftop. At some point, I note the LED lighted (and probably heated) pool crowded with randoms.

My eyes wander every which way in awe. I've never been to Vegas in my life, but the view is so much more than I expected now that I'm able to actually get a good look at it. Everything is exceptionally tall, super modernized and lavish, and lit up with a plethora of colored lights. Actually, I can see The Venetian from here.

I make my way to the edge of the rooftop, squeezing past people to get a good glimpse of the lights, buildings and moving life below me.

This moment feels so surreal. I'm surrounded by people I don't know, just like I have been all damn day, looking for my four-- three-- friends who aren't even expecting me. Right here, in this moment, I'm alone in one of America's busiest and most well-know cities.

I have so many fucking options. Hell, if I really wanted to, I could jump from this roof to the balcony below and get cheered on. Everything-- anything-- goes in Las Vegas.

The area is fun, but the situation is dangerous. I'm feeling risky. It's a stark contrast to how nervous I was moments ago, but seeing all of Las Vegas from up here has brought me back to life in a way.

To my left is a pool side bar, though, which will ultimately help me in the long run. If I want to pursue my risky thoughts that I'm too afraid to act on when sober, then alcohol is a good start.

I push through bodies again, holding onto one half of my mask in fear. I think I'd call it quits on life if I get pushed around so much that it falls off. Genuinely, I'd just pack up and leave.

Out of everything though, that's my only true fear at the moment, even with the lingering reminder that I'll have to find The Faces soon. I have, well, used to have horrible social anxiety, and yet here I am in one of the most social situations I've even laid my eyes on in years.

Here, I actually have to converse with people unlike whenever I was in the airport and getting into this casino/hotel--whatever it is. This right here is something to feel good about.

I'm proud of myself.

I weave past another person and slap a hand onto the bar counter, hanging on for dear life when a few people shove past me and nearly take me with them. Wincing, I make awkward eye contact with the bartender who just stares at me.

Yea, asshole. Could have helped.

"Whatcha got?" The bartender asks, filling up multiple glasses. I know he's busy. There are people in every free spot around the bar. What a fucking party, right?

"Um, can I get a screwdriver, I guess?" I yell to him, trying to make sure he can hear me over the music.

He nods once, grabbing another glass. "$15."

My eyes practically shoot out of my head and I feel like I'll choke on the way I'm being strangled with my pretty much empty bank account. "Is that a joke?" I cough out, watching as he fills the glass up with the equivalent to three shots.

The bartender shoots me a frustrated look that immediately tells me he isn't kidding.

He puts a splash of orange juice into what I would consider straight fucking alcohol then scoots it over to me.

I wince, giving my glass a little twirl in hopes to give myself some clarity and not straight vodka towards the bottom of the glass. Then, I pull a $20 from the back of my phone case and pass it to him. "Keep the change," I murmur, plucking a straw from a styrofoam cup then returning to my task of attempting to find The Faces.

Honestly, finding the group in a sea of people like this is probably impossible. There are just so many bodies and not enough consideration for the poor souls (me) trying to find their way around.

I can just barely make out an unoccupied stage. There's a microphone set up on it and speakers towards the back. It's right on the edge of the large rooftop, so maybe I'll be able to find some space there and catch a breath before I keep looking.

And of course, I could make this easier for myself and just call Ash. I could make this entire search simpler for everyone by letting her know that I have shown up. Who wouldn't do that?

But I'm scared. I love Ash more than anything and she's my best friend, but I also haven't seen her, Larry, or Todd in over ten years. The thought of physically reconnecting after so long worries me. Talking online is easy compared to actually being there, in person, flesh and all, for the thought process of every single question and answer. What if we all are too awkward and don't know how to physically speak to each other?

It's an anxious worry that makes me shiver as I break through the end of the thick crowd.

Suddenly though, I don't have any time left to worry again like I've been doing all day.

I should have known that Sally Face would be as close as he could possibly be to music. Thus, there he is, standing in front of the stage with his back leaned against the edge. And where he goes, the rest of the group goes.

All the air leaves my lungs all at once. My feet are cemented to the ground and my free hand bunches into the fabric of my black skirt.

They stand in a row-- Sally, Ash, Larry, then Todd.

Sally Face is the shortest one in the group. I never would have suspected it just by meeting him once. I mean, he isn't exactly short. I'd say he must be between five foot eight and five foot ten. That's a decent height. But Ash is a head taller than him-- that alone shocks me into stillness. And Larry is even taller than Ash. Then Todd is about Ash's height.

As always, Sally looks delectable. Just looking at him once fills me with memories of his sultry, dirty words and the feeling of his skin beneath my fingertips. What a dangerously frustrating man.

He's wearing a tan, almost sandy colored, Memphis May Fire shirt paired with black jeans and classic vans. The neutral colors clash wildly against the bright, slap-you-in-the-face color of his hair alongside his expressionless prosthetic, but I'm into it. He looks so fucking good and I can see the tattoos on his arms so well.

How I ache to run my hands over every inch of ink covering his skin. To see him flinch beneath my touch again. To read his story depicted in images that stain his body. It's a deep yearning that fills me with a feeling akin to rage-- it's just as euphoric, adrenaline-inducing, and deteriorating as rage is to me.

My eyes rake over him inch by inch, dragging up and down slowly until I've memorized each curve, crevice, freckle, scar, and every other little thing easy to miss regarding his physical body.

I wish I could see more of him. I want nothing more than to peel that prosthetic off of his face and get a look at the beauty he hides so desperately. I just know deep in my soul that he's pretty. There's no way a handsome asshole like him wouldn't have a pretty face.

His electric blue eyes rake across the area in front of him, but he thankfully never looks at me. It gives me an open opportunity to ogle him from afar.

I trail my eyes from his bruised fingertips, all over his ink-stained forearms while I meticulously map out each twist and turn of the veins that lead up to his lightly bulging biceps. Then, I follow the curves of his lightly scarred neck.

Somehow, the in-person image of his pretty throat is better than the photo Larry sent me. That shattered sword tattoo glints under the lights, a result of the thin sheen of sweat on his skin. It brings out the barely noticeable differences in the color of his skin-- his scars. They're lining the underside of his jaw and just a bit on the left side of his neck. I wish I could bite into his skin.

His messy hair and fringe cover the top and sides of his prosthetic, but I'm still able to get a good look at the dips and curves of every inch of it. I'm even able to see the top corner of his prosthetic that's pink instead of white. I wonder why that is.

But even if they aren't real, I can't help but stare at his prosthetic lips. Someday, I'll get to feel his real lips behind the barrier between me and his face.

I try to shake off the simp side of my brain, shocked at my own thoughts. Why am I so eager just over one look at him? Am I that bad off right now? This is an issue.

Sally Face is dangerous.

He has this confident, god-like aura about him that drips with the equivalent to gold-- if there was a color to describe the way he acts, it would be gold. It's in his stance, in his sharp and hypnotizing gaze, in the way he curls his fingers towards himself in a gesture as Ash watches him-- they're likely talking.

Sally face is tantalizing in every aspect of who he is. Personality, looks, vibes. I want my fingers in his cerulean hair so I can ruffle up the soft looking, layered waves. I want to drag my fingertips down the few scars littering his neck. I want to shatter that sword on his throat a little more, see how much deeper he can break. I want his pale skin between my teeth, and I want his gaze on me.

But these are silly thoughts. I can't embrace or act on them. Especially not right now.

I turn my gaze to Ash, the reincarnated Aphrodite dripping in modern eloquence. When imagining the most beautiful woman to walk the earth, I'd think of her over and over again. I feel that anyone else would, too.

Ash's hair has grown since her major cut about a year ago, it's just hanging over her shoulders, brushing her upper back. It's the color of silky chocolate, flowing smoothly and elegantly as though she'd spent hours preparing it. And hell, maybe she did spend a while fixing it up. But the point is that she makes effort look effortless.

The model-like air about her is swathed in a kind-hearted and welcoming feeling that comes just from seeing her do something as simple as smile. Ash is completely one of a kind, an alien in a realm where beauty is misguided and thought to be something else entirely. She's too breathtaking to be walking within ten feet of me. She's too good for this universe she's been sent to.

Ash is wearing a maroon colored dress that hugs her curves in every perfect place possible. There's a slit going up the right side of the dress-- her thigh squeezes against the fabric, more than likely attracting every person's attention within a three-mile radius. She's simply and utterly a sight to behold.

Not like she needs makeup, but even the little bit that she's wearing on her celestially stunning face compliments her dress, her personality, and her overall aura perfectly. Just a little bit of a dark brown shade on her eyelids, accentuating the glowing color of her viridian irises as she, oh shit, makes eye contact with me. But it's only for a moment before she... looks away again?

Anyway, her pearly white teeth are on display when Sally nudges her, pointing off into another direction. Each of her features lifts with the action and makes her look even more otherworldly. She's something else entirely.

I continue dragging my eyes along the entire group, passing my gaze over Larry now who absolutely blows my mind. In fact, I can't quite believe that it's the same scrawny, metal-loving, long-haired, emo teenager I last saw a photo of just two years ago.

Larry is ripped in every meaning and centimeter of the word. He used to be an awkward, lanky guy-- but now, his biceps seem like they're hardly able to fit into his plain black t-shirt, even his chest is squeezing against the fabric. Veins protrude over the inside of his forearms-- a tidbit I notice when he gestures over to Ash to mention something.

Small tattoos litter various areas of his tanned arms, little crosses or x's, I even see a My Chemical Romance and Sanity's Fall tattoo on him. The ink is a beautiful complement to his honey-colored skin. He's incredibly handsome, I'll give him that. Even in just a plain shirt, black jeans, and red converse-- he's killing the look and making it something unique to him. Actually, I'll bet he wore that shirt because it looks best on him.

I trail my eyes up his sculpted neck and to his striking, chiseled face that seems to have matured quite a bit in the past couple years. His eyes are a mesmerizing and dominant shape that beautifully accompanies his dark brown eyes that seem to mimic the shade of black coffee with just a splash of creamer. His angular cheekbones and jawline make him seem like a fully functioning Roman sculpture come to life. And more than anything, I'm so excited to see that the cute gap between his front teeth is still present when he flashes a hypnotizing smile to his left while running a tattooed hand through his hair.

Larry's septum is pierced, a new addition to his look that I didn't hear of. While a minimal difference, it gives him a boost in the 'attractive guy' department. He looks so different, but so familiar. All in all, he looks just as lickable as Sal does, only he's one of my best friends and I absolutely refuse to pursue anything that could break the bond I have with him.

I finally turn to Todd, a fleshed out man who's incredibly elegant in his own right. He's drool-worthy in a contrasting way compared to the rest of the group-- he's the embodiment of an academia professor and he's absolutely killing the look.

Todd's face is cherubic, angelic even but still handsome in a way that seems to make him shine in the dark of the night. The curves of his face are visible, but not sharp and cut-throat like Larry's features are, for example. Little light freckles paint the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks, bringing out the inebriating color of his nearly colorless, inky eyes. Thin lips and a light brush of facial hair on his chin really brings his pretty features together to make him look even more attractive, especially under the moonlight and LEDs.

His curly, red hair is styled in a side part, a singular curl hanging over his forehead in a way that fills me with an urge to push the hair into place with the rest. And perhaps he styled his hair like that on purpose, to make everyone yearn to touch him.

He's dressed in black trousers that are perfectly ironed, a white, button-up dress shirt, and a dark grey blazer that could almost be considered some type of trench coat if not for the style. Then, a pair of shiny black dress shoes.

Todd pulls off the look wonderfully, and never in my life did I imagine I would ever see him sporting dark colors, but the neutral and darker shades look amazing on him. Compared to the monotonous, bright-colored boy I knew as a child, Todd has matured into what he was always meant to be. And fuck, Neil is a lucky guy.

All of my friends are so hot that they are too hot for me. How could I possibly walk up to the equivalent to famous paintings and sculptures? I mean, they're so perfect that I feel as though I need to do a double-take because I can't wrap my head around the fact that they're real. How can anyone be so absolutely gorgeous? Not to mention, four of them standing side-by-side in the same exact place at the same time. And the slim chances that they all became best friends just tops it off and I feel burning jealousy over the thought of it.

I'm not jealous over their friendship or their looks, just that they seem so happy. Joy and true contentment is a feeling I've chased all my life, but never quite gotten close enough to grasp. To know that my full potential with happiness is out of reach, but they're bathing in the feeling... it makes me feel even farther from getting to embrace positivity.

But maybe this is a sign. Maybe they are my opportunity to drown in the throes of joy. Maybe they're meant to be my happiness-- my contentment personified, depicted in the form of actual physical, human beings.

Could be. I've never looked for parts of myself in others because I've always felt that my own emotions are something I have to achieve on my own.

Maybe I've been looking at everything all wrong. Maybe... maybe my morals are outlandish and out of place to the point that I've been depriving myself of real chances to feel something.

I know this-- I literally see an open opportunity to pursue one of my biggest dreams right in front of me, and yet I'm still unable to move my feet. I can't make myself finally meet what I've always wanted.

I can't even tell my friends hello.

This is pissing me off. Why can't I fucking move? I flew out last minute and have spent hours waiting alone to surprise my friends, but I'm too cowardly to actually spend time with them? Absolutely pathetic. I'm disappointed in myself and I'm tired of feeling that way.

I pat a hand around the top of my drink until I grab onto my straw. I pull it into my mouth and gulp down liquid fire as I let my eyes continue wandering over The Faces repeatedly. Yea, I probably look like a creep but I won't be able to walk up to them unless I have something to boost my confidence. As far as I'm concerned, alcohol is the only confidence I have. And if I look away from the group, I could lose them. I don't want to trek through this minefield to find them again.

It takes me a moment to trick myself into thinking that the alcohol will take effect immediately, but my legs finally move. I feel like I'm floating-- and way too fast at that-- as I grow closer and closer to the group, looking to Ash like a lifeline.

Out of everyone here, I'm closest with her and I'm begging, praying with just my eyes that she looks over and recognizes me and helps me grow accustomed to finally being around again.

More importantly, I hope no one is awkward with me. I think I'll just turn around and catch a plane back home if shit flops.

I get close enough to the point that Ash turns to me with a mix of curiosity and concern dancing in her eyes. I feel self-conscious beneath her gaze, but the look in her eyes slowly turns into something interesting and I find myself shrinking a bit as I stop my pursuit just two feet away from her.

My vans scuff the ground when I stop and I tilt my head up to look into her enthralling green eyes. My heart pounds wildly against my ribcage and my palms grow clammy all the while Ash simply grins down at me. Her irises twinkle, an intrigued look passing through her gaze.

"Hi," her soft, melodic voice purrs. "Nice to meet you."

Oh.

I'm thrown off by the fact that she can't recognize me, but when the mask is taken into account as well as the fact that she hasn't seen a photo of me since I was sixteen, it's understandable.

Not only that, I'm preoccupied on the thought that it seems she may be trying to flirt with me.

"Hi," I greet back, fighting off any possible signs of nervousness. I'll murder my anxiety if I can't play off my fear right now. One thing's for sure though, I don't have to worry about any awkwardness. "We've met before," I add in, giggling a bit.

I shock myself when the sound comes out a bit seductive. I don't mean to flirt back-- but what's the problem with that? Ash is my best friend for one, we flirt all the time, but she's also fucking stunning. I see no problems.

Ash tilts her head, scrunching her eyebrows as she flashes her perfect smile at me. Her eyes trail over my body and I instantly feel myself stiffen, heat washing over my cheeks. Her reaction to me is real-- this isn't us acting friendly because we know each other. This is Ash rizzing up a stranger.

"Really? I think I'd remember you if we've already met," she says with a soft laugh, chewing on her bottom lip as our eyes meet again. "When did you see me?"

I suck in a breath, trying to calm my fluttering heart and hot cheeks. "Instead of telling you," I say randomly without any thought, "How about we play a game? The group of you can try and guess who I am." Smiling, I glance over at Larry who's smirking down at me, his sharp eyebrows and deep gaze forcing that blush back to my cheeks.

Todd watches me, expressionless with his hands in the pockets of his neat pants. He doesn't move an inch.

And I don't dare look at Sally who's been quiet too.

Ash narrows her eyes, pinching her lips together to contain a smile. She glances to Sally then over to Larry and Todd before focusing on me again. "Okay," she hums. "I love games."

I flinch back when she gravitates a bit closer to me, her gaze flickering over my mask then to my lips. Is this the same Ash who screamed in excitement over everything when I was younger? And scarier, I find my heart racing because her interest in me is exciting.

Two can play at this dangerous game.

I take another leisure sip of my drink, bringing it to my mouth with shaky hands as I turn my gaze to Ash's glossy lips.

Her top lip is a bit bigger than her bottom lip. She has a soft cupid's bow accentuated by highlighter that was purposefully and meticulously placed there. Her lips look soft, plush. Maybe it's just the glitter or the way the lights reflect off her lipgloss. Either way, I'm sure she'd be fun to kiss.

What the fuck am I doing?

Ash leaves my field of vision almost immediately. I look up, noting that she's sat on the edge of the stage with a smirk on her hypnotizing lips like she knows she has me wrapped around her finger.

"So, Mystery Girl," she says, a seductive lilt to her sing-song voice. "Can you give me a little hint to start?"

I glance over, making eye contact with a concerned Sally Face. One of his elbows is propped on the stage behind him and the other is languidly resting on Ash's thigh.

He watches me carefully, no doubt sizing me up. I've noticed that he finds threats to his group then carefully assesses them. The fact that I'm saying I know Ash probably raised alarm bells in his head.

I look over to Larry next, watching as he raises his eyebrows and turns his back to me, leaning his elbows on the stage as he watches Ash's side profile. He has a really nice, strong back, by the way. Also, I'd love to braid his hair one day.

Todd stays in his same position, he even rolls his eyes when Ash tilts her head at me, waiting for me to give her an answer.

But what kind of hint could I give her? Almost anything I'd say would make her figure me out immediately. I'm really having to think hard about this because everything that comes to mind is something she knows.

I'll have to be careful about this. I have to give her a hint of a hint. Something she may have a memory about, but doesn't know for sure.

I bring my straw to my lips, sipping until I get closer to the bottom. Straight fucking vodka. Damn that bartender.

"Sorry, I'm thinking of a hint. I don't want to give myself away," I muse, throwing a wink at Ash. She immediately grins. "That would take the fun out of the game, wouldn't it?"

Ash giggles cutely as Larry turns around again, watching me with narrowed eyes and a ghost of a smile on his lips. What is that hunk of hotness thinking? I already know what's going through Sal's head-- but is Larry on his level?

"You're right. Take your time," Ash says in her soft, lulling voice.

I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, still thinking as hard as I can. I'm coming up with blanks. I need to pull a rabbit out of a hat, but I'm going to have to stall until I get there.

"Want to hug me and see if it feels familiar?" I ask, narrowing my eyes and opening my arms. My hand tightens around my drink as it slowly slides through my fingers.

Ash's eyes widen slightly and she stands again, her feet tapping the ground once she slides off the stage. She looks off to the side and purses her lips, taking just a step toward me. "Can I kiss you instead and see if that feels familiar?"

My breath catches in my throat and the drink in my hand feels even more slippery as I try to jump over this shock hurdle. I need to get myself together and answer her instead of actually going with this insane proposition she's dropped on me like a weight.

"We aren't familiar in that way, darling," I giggle lightly, letting my arms fall to my side.

Ash shrugs, a guilty grin pulling at her lips. "And? We can just do it anyway."

A deep, amused cackle makes me look past Ash and to Larry who has a hand over his mouth. "Sorry, couldn't hold back the laughs," he snickers. His sharp eyebrows arch further as he raises them at me. "You're in danger, MG."

"That's comforting," I say, laughing at Larry's failed attempt to hide his reaction to me and Ash's flirting. He's an evil little thing and clearly he chases a tense situation to get some laughs. "Maybe Ash is the one in danger."

My eyes cut over to Ash as she takes another step toward me. "Please let me find out if I'm in danger, I promise you won't regret it." She bends her knees just a bit for a moment, clasping her hands together with a mind-swaying look in her eyes. She's begging without words.

I glance at Sally quickly. He's still quiet, but he looks like he's on guard and intrigued at the same time.

Fuck, how do I get out of this. Todd's even standing up straight, watching us with a disgruntled look and curiosity in his eyes. They're expecting me to give in and I'm not entirely sure if I want to say no in the first place. Which is bad.

I don't have any feelings other than platonic love for Ash, but I've missed her so much that I genuinely would love to kiss her senseless. It's like reconnecting with the other half of my heart for the first time in years-- which, honestly, that's exactly what this is.

"Do you care who I am, Ash?" I ask, tilting my head questioningly. If we're going to kiss, I want to make sure she isn't going to lose her entire head once she finds out who I am.

"Yes, I want to know who you are. In regards to a kiss, I don't care who you are. When I find out, I'll probably be happy we kissed." She sends me a sweet little smile then licks her bottom lip.

"Okay. Then my only condition is that we are only friends and you have to remember that. Nothing will come of our kiss." I dip my head down a bit, trying to show that I'm being serious.

"If nothing will come of our kiss, then why are we going to do it?" She asks, starting to take quick steps toward me.

I take one step back, just to slow her down until we can finish this conversation. "We're going to do it because you're beautiful and I've missed you so much that I wouldn't be happy with anything less than a kiss."

Ash huffs out a laugh, growing close enough to take my hands into hers and yank me toward her. She towers over me and I have to tilt my head up to get a good view of her. "You must know me well then," she purrs, her expression filled with curiosity and eagerness. She's reckless. It's fun. "Are you ready?"

"I... think so?" I murmur, quickly licking my lips. Ash's cool hand trails up my arm and then to the base of my neck, pulling me closer to her.

"If you don't want to, say no," Ash says honestly, leaning down so that we're face-to-face. She looks into my eyes, trying to tell me that it's okay to say no. She won't go through with this if I don't want to.

"I-- I want to, I'm just nervous--"

"Don't be nervous. It'll be quick." Ash's serious expression washes away as she glances at my lips then back to my eyes again, pretty smile enveloping her lips again.

I nod, my heart thumping wildly against my chest as she leans forward. I grab onto Ash's wrist as her other hand gently brushes over my cheek.

And then her lips are on mine. She's still for a moment and so am I, just squeezing my eyes shut as I try to adjust to the feeling of her lips.

They're softer than I expected them to be, but sticky. And for that reason, I grip onto her wrist tighter because it feels like she's stuck to me and I'm not upset about it.

Ash takes my squeeze as a sign, tilting her head a bit. The movement causes her lips to slide perfectly against mine and butterflies flutter to life in my stomach.

I kiss her back, enjoying the way Ash's lips mold to mine so deliciously. The feeling is addictive and if it weren't for her sudden intake of breath, I'd probably pull her even closer. But her reaction reminds me that we're in public and that this is just a little test.

Ash pulls away just as quickly as she kissed me. She was right-- it was quick. And I actually thoroughly enjoyed it.

My eyes flutter open and I look up. Ash's hands are still on either side of my face, but she watches me with a tilted head and narrowed eyes-- like she's trying to figure me out. Like... the kiss actually gave her a clue, which would make no sense.

Then, she leans forward and slams her lips on mine for just a second. I shake my head once she pulls away and look up at her with a puzzled expression that I just can't control. What the fuck.

"Is your name Victoria?" Ash turns her head to the side, eyes wide and brows furrowed like even she's confused.

I choke on air over the near accuracy. What the fuck kind of succubus is Ash? How on earth did a kiss give her the first two letters of my nickname? Is this some joke? Does she already know?

"No, my name isn't Victoria," I force out through coughs, wheezing as I blink through my tears.

Ash lets me go, putting a hand on her hip and another on her chin like a real Sherlock Holmes.

I glance over at the boys quickly. Larry has wide eyes and a shit-eating grin on his face. Sally's looking away from us with his hands resting between his legs. He isn't slick. Todd is just shaking his head.

Men.

"Well, who the hell are you?" Ash murmurs to herself.

An audible, obnoxious sigh pulls my attention away from the viridian-eyed beauty again and I look over to Sally who hops off the stage and turns away from us quickly. "I'll be back," he murmurs with shaky breaths. "I'm going get a drink."

Larry snorts. "You lying bastard," he says, patting Sal's back. "You're just as gozzled as me right now."

Sally groans, walking away from Larry without a word. And Larry turns toward him, raising his arms. "What!?" he yells a bit louder as Sally disappears through the crowd. "I'm not wrong!"

"You kiss just like Victoria did," Ash suddenly says, pointing an accusing finger at me. She's gone from playful to serious in just a matter of minutes.

A laugh falls from my lips and my tense stance slackens a bit. "Oh, thank God." I twirl my drink again and shake my head. "I thought you just manifested that name from a kiss. I was freaked."

"Were you?" Ash narrows her eyes and takes a step toward me again. I find that deja vu feeling tickling the back of my brain.

I swallow thickly, never answering as I look over to Larry with pleading eyes. He only shakes his head, flicking me off with a devious and beaming smile. No fucking help.

"So, was I close with the name then? Because why else would you be nervous." Ash pries, chewing on the inside of her cheek in thought. "Actually, what are you doing here? Why wouldn't you just tell us who you are? Are you someone that we don't like?"

My mouth gapes open like a fish, opening and closing while I fight for an answer. My mouth feels dry and my hands are clammy again. "N-No. You guys like me. You've never had any issues with me, well, Sally doesn't like me but other than that we've all gotten along very well. Incredibly well, in fact!" I hold my hands out in front of me just as Ash stops walking toward me. "You guys love me, well, I hope. Actually, I don't really know. Maybe you all hate my guts, I wouldn't be able to tell."

Ash looks confused, like she's trying to grasp onto what I just spewed at her. My answer didn't convince her, it just fucking confuzzled her.

"I can't believe it." I turn my head when Todd talks for the first time. He doesn't have that borderline angry look on his face anymore. In fact, his eyes are a bit wide and he isn't frowning. I'd say this is his excited face. "You're Vi."

I don't know what to say as my mouth falls open again. I just stare at Todd and that seems to confirm it for him, so I shut my mouth and swallow through the dryness on my tongue. My throat burns and it feels like my heart's dropped out of my ass. I expected everyone to be stuck for hours, not for fucking Todd to sniff me out in just five minutes.

Larry suddenly scrambles into a standing position, his expression the first one I've seen tonight that isn't smiling. His lips are parted and his eyebrows are bunched together like someone just told him Dolly Parton died.

I pull my eyes away from the two men and look up at Ash, noting her slackened expression. Then, suddenly, she's become the same person I see on videos and talk to over the phone. The same best friend that I joke and bicker with.

In her soft, surprised, high-pitched voice, Ash asks, "Is that really you, Vi?"

There are tears on her waterline, but then there's hope in her eyes. Hope in the way she takes a stumbled step toward me with her hands clutched to her chest like she doesn't know what to do with them.

And I can't tell her I'm not Vi. She looks so torn up in the best way and it would tear me up too if I wasn't honest with her.

"Yea," I rasp out. "It's me, Ash."

Ash turns into a blur as I'm lifted from my feet with immense screams of joy filling my ears. Ash throws me around like a dog's chew toy and bellows so many indecipherable things that I'm taken aback for a moment, but overall relishing in the joy that seeps from her and into me.

"You told me you weren't fucking coming, Vi, what the fuck!? And it's been like ten years! Where the fuck? How-- What-- Where did you come from? How did you get here!?" Ash shrieks into my ear, a sob or two getting twisted into her words.

I chew on my lips, finally wrapping my arms around Ash's neck as she continues to throw me around like I weigh nothing. Hell, she has some upper body strength.

Tears start to sting my eyes as all of my senses are filled. I can smell Ash's coconut scented shampoo, I can taste her strawberry lipgloss mixed with my tears, I can hear her screams mixed with the music around us, I can feel each strand of soft hair and her heart beating wildly against my chest, and I can see Larry and Todd's excited and shocked expression every time Ash swings me toward them again.

"I know. But it doesn't matter because I made it here," I laugh through trembling lips. I sniff when the sound of my own voice hits my ears. Fuck, just hearing that I'm hardly holding it together makes me want to break.

"You're so fucking right. Oh my gosh," Ash cries, finally dropping me to my feet but never unwrapping her arms from my waist.

She squeezes me tightly, then abruptly pulls away, holding me at arms length with mascara bleeding down her red cheeks. "Holy fuck, Vi. You let me kiss you!?" She looks absolutely bamboozled, like she truly can't wrap her head around the fact that our lips touched.

"Uh," I spit out, still reeling from being twirled around like a bug stuck on a carousel. "Yea. We kissed. I told you my conditions. What, do you regret it now?" I narrow my eyes playfully.

Ash slaps a hand to her chest like she's appalled. "What? Hell no, I could never regret it! I just can't believe we fucking kissed!?"

"I can't believe you guys kissed and haven't fucking included me yet. Your turn is over, Ash!" Arms wrap around my middle and I find myself being throw around like a test dummy yet again. This time, the perpetrator is Larry. "I can't fucking believe you're here!" he bellows.

"This entire night is full of you guys being non-believers!" I yell once my feet touch the ground again. Larry spins me around to face him and I feel like I'm going to cry again just over the big smile of excitement on his face. "You guys better start believing because I'm here in the flesh."

Larry bends over to reach me, wrapping me up in a big, strong hug. And, oh yea, I take the opportunity to drag my hands up his muscular arms as I hug him back.

"Stop feeling me up, Vi. Your kiss with Ash was hot enough," Larry laughs into my hair, giving me a squeeze.

I can't help but laugh and quickly wrap my arms around his neck. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't stop myself. I never imagined you'd be so jacked."

"Ha, yea, I honestly didn't see it in my future either, but here we are," he murmurs before pulling away. He looks down at me, tears fucking brimming his eyes too. "Fuck, dude. I might cry. You're such an awesome chick," he says breathily, pretending to wipe tears from his cheeks.

I pinch my lips together and give him my best unimpressed look. "Come on, we're supposed to be strong. No more crying," I tell him.

"Maybe the tears will go away if I get a kiss too.." Larry rolls his eyes very obnoxiously. His gaze cuts to me then he immediately looks away again, being as playful as always.

I sigh, grabbing onto his cheeks. "Come here, jackass," I say, growing excited as I pull him close to me.

Larry murmurs out a "fuck yea" before I quickly press my lips to his. It's a little kiss, shorter than me and Ash's but I was just as eager to do it since I haven't seen him in so long.

When I pull away, Larry scrunches his face up and splutters, wiping at his mouth. "Dammit, Ash," he says, fake gagging. "Why'd you have to kiss Vi first with that stupid lipgloss? That shit is disgusting."

"Hey!" Ash scoffs, walking toward us. "Don't hate on my very expensive, very amazing lipgloss! And besides, Vi seemed to like it well enough."

I scoot my way out of their argument and tiptoe my way to Todd who greets me with a soft smile. I smile back at him and he opens his arms to me immediately.

My insides jump around in excitement as I jump into Todd's hug, scrunching the fabric of his blazer in my hands. "It's so nice to see you, Todd," I murmur into his shoulder. He smells like cedar trees.

"It's nice to see you, too, Vi. Sorry I figured you out so quickly," he laughs softly, giving me a squeeze before separating from our embrace. He puts his hands into his pockets then switches his weight to his other foot.

"It's no issue," I say, waving him off. "I'm really happy actually. I wouldn't have been able to say it myself."

He scoffs lightly, patting my shoulder. "Clearly. Grow a backbone, huh?"

I can't help but giggle as I pat his elbow in return. Todd watches me with a soft look, like he's genuinely happy to see me and that thought feels me with even more joy. Everyone's happy to see me.

Well... almost everyone.

"Vi, what the fuck are we going to do about Sal?" Ash suddenly hisses worriedly, her hands clamping onto my shoulders as she shoves her face next to mine from behind. "He's going to be so pissed!"

"It's alright," I breathe, squeezing my eyes shut as I remember that I still have some true bullshit to handle. "I'm cool," I settle on then turn my head, looking Ash in her pretty green eyes. "I've got this."

________________

A/N::::::: holy shit HI WE'RE DOING CRAZY STUFF

this was supposed to be two chapters. Yep. Somehow, these 11,347 words got fused into one even though they were meant to be separate. I couldn't leave you guys hanging again though, so here we are <3

thank you so much for the continued support. I love you all so much! have a wonderful day/evening/night. tons of kisses!! <333

P.S. I AM EXHAUSTED I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS CHAPTER FOR TWO FUCKING WEEKS

#sally face fandom #sally face fanfiction #sal fisher #future smut #sally face #todd morrison #travis phelps #enemies to lovers #larry johnson #ash campbell

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