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shyrose57 · 3 years

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2nd part than.

8: (This ones longgggg) Their rooms all have the same beige (like brown mushroom color) walls and floors. As their not allowed to change that. But Watson has some bookshelves in his room along with a old adventurer cape that goes in front of his body and hangs to his ankles (Item-Ya Adventurer Cape is a perfect example. Idk the actual name for the kind of cape it is), some display cases featuring his strongest bows and arrows, along with a sword and axe, along with pictures of the group toghere and pictures from his travels on the walls, he has a single lone desk that is only used when designing new bows or arrows. Ran also has bookshelves, but his is bigger and takes up a whole wall, he also as a winter cape with fur on its shoulders hung up (he lived in a snow biome for a little while and made the cape himself), along with a single weapon case that features a lone damaged neitherite sword, he also has chests stacked along a wall filled with random stuff that he sometimes gives as gifts or uses to throw at people. Jackie has a few paintings and posters in his room, along with the only carpet in any bedroom (that he totally didnt steal from Grievous), a panting easel, he has a single display case in his room that displays the sword Porkius gave him for winning, theres also pictures of the group toghere and a small chest next to his bed filled with things that belongs to someone in the group. Grievous has a small bookshelf (one book is a naming book Watson jokingly gave him), a chest filled to the brim with blankets and pillows (cause for him comfort is a necessity), he also has a desk that he tends to fall asleep at when doing literally anything on it. Everyone also has a good sized wardrobe somewhere in their room that is filled with different outfits and w statue stands with either iron armour or empty. There is also a four-way-bunkbed in the living room/area, they typically use it when someone is having or had a very bad day and needs comfort, or when Jackie's separation anxiety is bad and needs to sleep with everyone nearby.

Ran loves reading and sometimes gets mad when someone intrupts his reading. Watson loves designing new bows and arrows and just designing weapons in general (Grievous does too and helps him sometimes). Jackie likes to paint and has a interest in adventuring one day. They are well known but only in Subbin and surrounding cities. Though word does travel about them at times which can bring people to Subbin. They have 2 titles actually! First is used in typical matches, while the second is used in more formal or serious matches (like those for general). Ran: The Enderman, Partikel Tari (Dancing Particles, referencing how when he fights when serious its like he's dancing as he teleports around the field). Watson: The Archer, Multi (Referencing how he has more experience than anyone in the use of all kinds of weapons and can quickly adjust to situations). Grievous: Multi-Named, Unpredictable (referring to how he is by far the most unpredictable person in serious battles). Jackie: The Child, Diremehake (Underestimated, referring to how he gets underestimated a lot during any battle). They get recognized quite often and get called their stage names, when they dont want to deal with people recognizing them they often either yell at them to go away or just run away.

9: They do all of the above! It depends on the match up (Jackie and Watson stay out of eachothers way mostly, Ran and Grievous make it one on one, and Ran and Jackie take them out quick). Oh the first time Ran threw Jackie was hailours. You could hear Watson screaming from the stands in fear and Jackie just head-butted the guy in the stomach. Then when Jackie recovered he just yelled for Ran to throw him again, and once again you could hear Watson screaming no and threats at them from the stands. Ran agreed and threw Jackie at the last person, who he just bear hugged as he hit and held them down. Then after the battle Watson smacked the two and chastised them.

10: At first he drops stuff and trips over his feet on a regular basis. But after about 3 weeks he fully regains his balance, and is able to finally walk without tripping at the start. While the attempts at bonding do work to get Ranbob and Cletus closer the two never get as close as the rest. Neither can really name what's stopping them from getting closer though. For the first week people need to constantly remind Ranbob to do all of those things. As he thinks the constant hunger, thirst, and tiredness is all normal when its not and their trying to get him to understand that. And while he eventually starts to do it himself, theres still some nights where he doesnt eat or drink or sleep. They just leave the two in the house, but later they do start to expand the house a bit to fit the new addition. He does not get his own place up, he just gives up after some time. He doesn't fall asleep out there to often thankfully, but since the house keeps falling on him he does get cuts and bruises quite often. He gets stuck in a rain storm only 2 times which isn't bad, but he does get semi-bad burns from them sadly that Benjamin has to sit him down for and have Charles distract him for long enough to wrap his wounds properly. And it only took Benjamin like 4 weeks before he finally got fed up and forced him inside and had him stay with them. He has dealt with a storm before when he was young! But it was when he was about 12 so its been a long while.

11: He spends all of his free time glaring at them. And for the first few days whenever he sees someone from his group hanging around his brothers, he'll go over and pick em up and just carry them away. The fishermen worry for a bit that Ran may hurt them, but Watson assured them that Ran knows the two groups like eachother and wouldn't hurt them incase that could hurt his families feelings.

12: Ranbob is extremely happy about potentially getting new members of his family! And eagerly tries to talk with them. But Ran is far less happy and actively avoids them (and drags his family away at times).

13: At the start they have no idea where their going. But when Grievous brings up about Rans damaged sword they decide to find a nether portal so they can find whats needed to repair his sword! And Watson decides on the way he can show them all the different biomes in the world, which Jackie is extremely excited for.

14: If the fishermen get separated from Ranbob for too long he actively goes and searches for them. And refuses to stop until he finds them. When upset Ran loves to pick up members of his Haunting, though he doesnt do them often as he knows his Haunting doesn't like it when he does it to often. He and Ranbob also pick up blocks though as it's a comfort action and soothes them. Cuddles piles do happen! They happen more for Ranbob to comfort him after a nightmare or just a bad day, or when he basically relapses and wants to go back to Dream. But cuddle piles are more rare in Rans group, as cuddle piles only happen when anyone is doing really badly mentally or physically and just need comfort, or when they all just need some comfort. But their much more sentimental and have more meaning than Ranbobs groups.

15: Oh definitely. I forget if I included it when I first introduced my Au. But soon after Ran escaped Mizu, he was hunted for his pearl and respawn ability. Though he killed the people hunting him. Every year he was out of Mizu and every year before he entered Subbin he was hunted by multiple groups. He's become legend just for avoiding so many groups and killing a vast majority of them. He's known as the "Green Eyed Enderman." and is a top goal amongst hunters. There are some times Ran got jumped in Subbin for being a hybrid but he quickly defeated them.

Karl has played his role in this! Though maybe I could make it so he comes in later on during a really difficult part between the brothers, and helps out. Using his own experiences in the SMP and seeing what ruined relationships like brothers does to someone and others, to make sure their relationship doesn't stay so broken and hurt so many people. Maybe at the end I'll have them go back and face Dream so Ranbob (and even Ran slightly, with how Dreams presence affected him) can finally be completely free. As of rn no one has a pet. But that question made me really want to give someone a raven and idk who. I want to have bits of the other Tales in it! Im not quite sure how yet but I want this to be a mostly Tales ONLY au (no main SMP stuff unless needed or necessary) as the Tales don't have enough love. He does write down the experience he had with the Dream Experience and writes down very important things, but other than that he leaves it behind.

Im really happy to hear that you like my au. I love world and story building a lot and can't control how much I write sometimes, again im sorry this is so long and I'll do my best to not make anything this long ever again. Sorry if this bothered you

8: Sounds pretty interesting, overall. Was Watson-as his cape suggest-perhaps an adventurer? And he designs his own bows and arrows? Very cool. What kind of things does he come up with? Ran also sounds like he’s traveled a bit. He knows how to sew? Has he ever made anything for anyone else? Where did he get his sword? Jackie’s got a carpet? Very nice, he deserves it. And a painting easel? How good is he at painting? Or is it more of something he’s just trying? Grievous sounds like he could build a very good pillow fort, and honestly, good for him. How often do they camp out in the bunk bed room?

Ran not liking being interrupted is understandable. Does he ever read to anyone, or is it more some alone time for him? Grievous and Watson must design some terrifying weapons. Where is Jackie looking at adventuring to? Anywhere specific, or just around? And what language(s) is Ran and Jackie’s secondary titles in? Latin?

9: Very smart of them, means it’ll be harder to pick up a pattern. And hearing about Ran tossing Jackie-I’m laughing. I’m not going to lie, kind of assumed it was planned pre-match, but hearing that they just decided to throw him? Watson’s reaction? Just...hilarious. Was Jackie even prepared for it, or did Ran just toss them without warning? Honestly, it kind of sounds like people might come to the Pit for the comedy just as much for the fighting. If this was the kind of thing that went down, I’d probably come to watch.

10: Oh no, Ranbob! At least he’s getting better. So Cletus and Ranbob never quite click, huh? Well, that’s alright. Sometimes people just don’t. Doesn’t mean they don’t care about each other! Ranbob thinking it’s normal, oh god. Does he ever say something along those lines, or get confused why the others are so worried about it? If so, how do the fishermen react to that question, and how does Ranbob react to the answer. As for the house, well. He can say he tried if nothing else-and hey, funny story to share with the gladiators later on. It’s good that he wasn’t caught in too many storms, less that he was caught in some at all. I’m sure that was a big help in convincing Benjamin to finally just put his foot down, which, honestly good for him. You go, Benjamin!

11: Ran, bud, chill. I like how you said his free time though-my first thought was that he immediately finished a book and went over to glare at them. Probably not true, but a hilarious mental image. Very glad Watson has reassured the fishermen-how did Ranbob react to that worry of theirs?

12: Ran’s actions are pretty understandable, but still a bit sad. How does Ranbob feel about them? Is he resigned? Determined? Upset?

13: Adventure! Into possibly dangerous places! How fun! Can’t wait to see where it goes. What do they see? What’s the first stop? How long are they heading off?

14: He won’t stop? Like, potentially will work himself into the ground won’t stop? Ran just picks up his members like blocks. And, oh boy. Ranbob wanting to go back to Dream? That’s just. Oof. Very much oof. How do the fishermen deal with that, and how do they feel about it?

15: Ran sounds like he’s had a less than enjoyable time out there. Do these hunters ever go after them once they leave Subbin? Do they target Ranbob? I mean, he’s another Endermen hybrid, and one who definitely isn’t as skilled as Ran, or as used to them. He’d be a much easier target.

So Karl’s gonna come in towards the end. Nice. Ran was also affected by Dream? How so? Obviously less than his brother, but did he ever notice? Did Ranbob? Sounds like it’d be a good final showdown, over all.

As for that pet raven, may I offer some suggestions? You could give one to Jackie and Grievous, so it can help them cause havoc, or maybe one to Benjamin, so it can help him keep an eye on his dorks. Maybe even Cletus, to help snag things, and mess with people, or Isaac, maybe to help find things. Even Watson, or one of the brothers, to help keep watch over their groups. Really, you could give any of these guys a raven. Depending on said bird’s personality, it could fit anywhere. Just depends on what you want to do with it.

I completely agree with you, we need more Tales AUs. Ranbob and Ran did come from what was basically a city of historians, perhaps you could use that to tie in the other Tales? Or even have them across the old ruins of areas on their adventure. Even chunk in more time travel, via Karl or otherwise, if you want to toss in more characters.

Ranbob pretty much starts over then. Good for him. How does Ran feel about that? Actually, who was Ran’s idol, and his general life on Mizu, before the Dream incident?

Other questions:

One thing I’d like to know is how the groups react to each other’s experiences and general life styles. Like for one, Ranbob and the fishermen generally seem more physically affectionate with each other, while Ran and the gladiators seem fairly less so, but no less close.

For another, the fishermen probably still remind Ranbob to eat or sleep, which would probably seem a bit confusing for the gladiators. How much do they know about both sides? Obviously enough for them to want to help get the brothers back together, but like.

How much do the gladiators believe Ranbob’s side. Are they wary, or skeptical, or do they believe it completely, and if so, why?

How long was Ran left running, evading hunters, and how has that affected him? How many times do both brothers say something concerning, and how do they react to what the other says?

You’ve said Ranbob occasionally relapses and wants to return to Dream. Does this happen on the trip? And if so, how do the gladiators react to such a thing-depending on how much they know about the whole thing, I can imagine mixed reactions. How does Ran react?

How do both groups react to the new endermen hybrids? They seem to have dealt with different instincts before now, so seeing Ranbob trail the fishermen and Ran just pick up the gladiators must be a bit strange.

What can Ranbob keep down? Not only was Dream in control, and not particularly careful with his body, but supplies were probably also somewhat limited when he did eat. So how has that affected him?

Are there any nicknames within in the groups? How do the gladiators react to the schedule change, considering they had set times for so much before? How do the fishermen react to the new areas? What habits are/become shared, and what habits are restricted to one group.

In general, just...how the fishermen and the gladiators differ in lifestyles, basically.

For another, in one of the earlier post, you mentioned both Isaac and Cletus wanted to return to Mizu. Isaac kind of gives me a historian vibe himself, or some sort of archaeologists. Just a kind of person who wants to learn about history-perhaps something to do with the fact that he was played by Karl, and the whole time traveler thing.

But anyway, what exactly did those two want to do down there? Explore, learn, steal?

And how would you say everyone’s personalities are like? Will you be introducing anymore characters, Tales or otherwise. It’d be interesting to see a Pit version of Tommy, or Puffy, or such.

How does Ran react when he finally accepts the truth, and what exactly pushes him to that?

Hope this isn’t too many questions. I’m pretty invested, not gonna lie.

And seriously, I don’t mind the length. Long or short, I’m really just happy to hear more about your AU, and I look forward to more.

#dream smp #Brothers AU #dream smp au #ranbob #tales from the smp #ran #jackie #watson #grievous #cletus #isaac #benjamin #karl jacobs

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la5t-res0rt · 4 years

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i was just sent a post from the blog who must not be named it was a post reblogged from someone who ive added to my list of really bad people but one of the things that struck me was a tag i saw in the post

antis seek therapy

we do

we do seek therapy often to combat the trauma some of us have endured through being groomed and being abused we spend time on ourselves to heal we find ways to cope and enjoy life again after it feels like parts of ourselves have been ripped from us and broken and tainted and violated

we work to be comfortable again we work to feel like ourselves again we find things we love again we allow ourselves to enjoy media again

we are taught to stand up for our own levels of comfort and to take control of the space around us we are taught mechanisms to move forward and we are encouraged to help others and support others at least thats what my therapist of multiple decades told me

we all seek shelter in our own ways and many people seek it in media its literally what so many beetlebabes shippers claim to be doing like they’re quote reclaiming some lost childhood thing unquote and yeah i think youre going about it in a terrible way that continues the cycle of pedophila and is normalizing it but thats not even what this is about right now this is about the blatant disrespect and inability to open your eyes to someone elses experience and story

so many antis are so uncomfortable with the content created by beetlebabe shippers myself included since its so similar to the material used to character veil up abuse me character veil down

we try to curate our spaces for that we say beetlebabes dni dont reblog dont put yourself in this space im making for myself but then people come in and call it gatekeeping and try to illustrate how someone is a bad person for not wanting exposure so pedophilic content like its absolutely baffling to me that people can state such a clear and simple rule and then people will whine and moan about it as if its oppression newsflash its not fucking oppression you whining slime mold being asked to not interact on the ground of pedophilia isnt fucking oppression read a book go outside and learn something anyway

people are entitled to have control over the space in which they occupy people have the control to remove people from their spaces its like ok weird metaphor but this whole ordeal with wearing masks in public spaces yes you may have the right to refuse to wear a mask and you have the right technically to harass service industry workers but the businesses that employ these workers also have the full right to not allow you in and to even remove you from the property free speech also comes with consequences this is such a simple principle like talk shit get hit metaphorically is basically the same principle

coming into someones space after they specified that that your content is something that makes them uncomfortable makes you a major asshole and also makes me think youre dumb and maybe cant read

all of that is bad enough

but to continuously berate someone and belittle their very real trauma all in the sake of you wanting to ship and post pedophilia is simply abhorrent it is truly vile behavior to come back multiple times is truly a disdainful act in my eyes and im sure im not the first person to feel this way

if youre close to people in the field of psychiatric medicine you should know better than to belittle someones trauma and as a csa survivor yourself you should have the compassion to respect someones boundaries

have you discussed this behavior with this psychiatrist husband of yours not the pedophilic stuff but this blatant disrespect and dismissal of someone elses trauma and the growth theyve achieved thanks to their therapy and counseling have you addressed this narcissistic holier than thou approach you have to discussing such serious issues with people because thats something that should be addressed along with your acceptance and tolerance and even romanticization of pedophilia in media

this is harassment and gaslighting in action folks nether receipts I hope youre taking notes because you clearly dont know what either term means and the fact that youve gone out of your way to promote this abusive behavior is yet another reason why people dislike you i can’t tag you because youve finally taken the hint and blocked me so I see no point but you know who you are also people don’t hate you because youre a woman they hate you because youre a pedophile anyway this isnt about you

back to the person im actually addressing

trauma is not an experience that is easy to read and apply to every person you yourself sourced years of trying to deal with what you went through who are you to dictate how long someone can feel pain for what theyve gone through who are you exactly to say whether or not if has been too long of a time for someones trauma to effect them you of all people should know that this shit doesnt go away it lingers and it grips you forever it doesnt matter if you’ve been apart from it for ten days or ten years

in one sentence you belittled a person for still being effected by their trauma and then in the next stated that the battle is life long which is it which statement do you actually beleive because it seems to me you only seem to care about your own horrible self without taking this other person into account at all because their response to their trauma was to break the cycle and work to make his space safer for himself and i beleive that takes more courage and more strength to actively oppose what hurt you rather than let it become how you cope and it becomes something you reintroduce into the cycle by keeping the its all okay attitude alive

i do not usually do direct posts its not exactly my style but i am so disgusted by what i have seen and what has been shared with me that it would be a disservice to not alert as many people as i can about your behavior

for a closing statement i will quote you

quote i hope you find your way to it instead of wasting all of your time being afraid of pictures and words on a screen, and picking fights with people who harm nobody unquote

what the fuck so you think youre doing by coming back over and over to belittle trauma denounce treatment and all around be unpleasant and high and mighty thats fucking harming people you narcissistic fool

im sorry you were hurt that fucking sucks but that doesnt give your the right for one fucking second to come into someones space where it was specified that you were not allowed and proceed to harass them and belittle them like you have done

@soeur-tiame you should be ashamed of yourself

dont bother responding as ive shown before with that transmed guy i dont like to waste any more of my time on filth than i need to

#ill be blocking you as soon as i know that youve seen this

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sugaxjpg · 5 years

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02 | blank check; m

⤷ “Let me get this right, okay? You threw my name in as your fake girlfriend because you needed to prove yourself to your empty-headed friends, and now you need to fix it. Still,” you paused, raising your eyebrows, “your way of fixing is not to disclose it as a lie, but to cover it up with an even bigger and riskier one. Is that correct?”

⤷ PART 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |Co-written with @pantaemonium

✓ Couple: Jungkook x Reader | Fuckboy!AU & FakeDating!AU

✓ Filed under: smut, tragic comebacks

✓ Words: 8,048

Author’s Note: Hello, everyone! Before anything else, Laura and I would like to thank you all for the overwhelming support we’ve received for part one. We are beyond thrilled that you guys are liking this series as much as we are!! Without further ado, let’s get down to business (to defend the huns).

“There is no way in hell I’m wearing this, you hear me?” you screamed against the phone for the third time in less than ten seconds. A high-pitched ding indicated the audio had been sent, and that was your signal to toss the device aside. Jungkook would not listen to it, like he had not listened to the other ten voice messages you had blessed his chatroom with.

The last message you had received from him had been short and dry, more of a user’s guide than a text. It exhibited his advanced SAT vocabulary and his outstanding talent to be concise. Lambda Kappa Pi. 11pm. Say you’re my girl and they’ll get you in. Good luck with the dress.

My girl, as if there was a dimension out of the multiverse you had been thrown into in which you would say such nonsense. My girl, your brain echoed, this time in his voice, that you imagined would be hoarse and whiny during sex. No, no, that was not an image you wanted in your mind.

“Hey, I’m Jungkook’s girl,” you spoke as you imagined yourself babbling at the entrance of the frat house, clad in that skin-tight little red dress. Imagination is a very powerful weapon to use against oneself, and it immediately transfigured you into a Legally Blonde character, one of the sweethearts from Delta Nu but with no rich daddy, no fake tanning, and no equilibrium to stand over the sky-challenging high-heels he had sent along with the dress.

You’d look far more like a clown that had just ran away from the circus, that’s for sure.

You clenched your jaw at the absurdity of that idea, ignoring the butterflies that begun dancing in your stomach. His girl. Stupid ass. You would never do something like th—

—Ding!

In a reflex, you practically threw yourself on your bed to reach for your phone, chest bubbling up with the ridiculous excuses that he could have sent back to you. Instead, however, what you were met with was a simple series of condescending texts:

Jungkook’s only neuron said: u’ll look great bby

Jungkook’s only neuron said: im getting heated just thinkin of u in that ;)

You said: You prick

You said: That dress doesn’t even cover my ass properly

Jungkook’s only neuron said: that was what i was hopin for

You groaned out loud as your eyes read his message, mind working faster than the quick progression of your thumbs against the screen — you better be ready for me to ruin you with the favor I have stored up, then, you texted back.

Jungkook’s response arrived all too soon. There was no physical time to toss the phone back onto the bed, to try the diminutive piece of clothing on and see if there was a way your boobs could survive without suffocating. As the notification blared through the speaker, you imagined him, expecting your reply by the phone, biting his nails. In your imagination, he was nervous, at least a bit; but Jungkook and his cohorts did not know nervousness, at least not when confronted to tests of women. They followed all those ludicrous bro-code-or-whatever-they-called-it rules; and making girls wait for their replies was in the book.

“Ruin or be ruined, that’s the world we live in,” you read out loud, trying to find in between the words Jungkook’s personal trademark. Unexpectedly, there was no baby. No typos. No superfluous exhibition of his very pompous personality. Had he asked for help? Perhaps Namjoon, the only one in the frat house with a functional brain. Maybe Yoongi, but it sounded way too contained to his taste.

“Quote your sources next time,” you typed rapidly, grinning all the way. “See you later, bby.”

Now Jungkook’s Only Neuron could type and ruminate over your odd response all he wanted. There would be no more texts until the party — except perhaps a picture or two of you in that dress, blurry and terribly illuminated. The ire of the gods would fall upon him when he tried to zoom in into your boobs only to find pixels. A taste of his own medicine, that was what you called this cruel stratagem.

Now, there were only a limited number of things which could count as social humiliation for you. As mentioned aforetime, failing a ridiculously easy class or exposing your underwear were near the top of the list, alongside some awfully personal experiences, but you never thought there would be something to top all your expectations. Turns out that 90’s movies make a so called “makeover” to be something great and empowering when, in reality, it had to be the spiritual equivalent of intestinal cramps in the middle of a road trip. And yes, you had been through that. No further comment.

Maybe the movie director of your life was sadistic. Maybe that experience was karma for ruining poor Jungkook’s mental health earlier that day. Whatever it was, it was the new number one on your list of social humiliation. You could not claim you hadn’t gotten anything out of that night — but experiences make you grow, right?

You knew you had fucked up the second you walked up to the fraternity house — that stupidly large, greek-like mansion that pulsated under the progression of the awfully loud music — and saw a pair of underwear on the grass, lost amidst a sea of bottles and beer cans. And then a bra. And then an used cond— Jesus Christ! Were those kids acting out Animal Planet? There were limits. There had to be. Goodbye to your long lost purity.

To top it all off, it was cold. Not nice, chilly cold, but winter-is-here kind of Game of Thrones bullshit. The wind was like cold daggers against your skin, piercing your naked legs as you moved closer to the entrance door, benumbing your senses to the fullest extent. Whatever it was that you had in store for Jungkook, it had to be equally torturous to that walk of shame — the night had not even started, and you were already constructing an escape plan.

“Hey,” you said as you stopped in front of two athletes, crossing your arms before your figure — thank God for your common sense, since the leather jacket you wore both covered your insanely tight boobs and gave you a bit of heat. You wouldn’t have started a conversation with them if not absolutely necessary and, in that case, they were blocking the passage. “Excuse me, please.”

One of them turned to you with arched eyebrows, looking you up and down, “You seem familiar,” he mumbled, infecting the atmosphere with a terrible scent of alcohol. To be fair, you thought you knew him too, but did not want to get into friendly terms with any of them. “Whatcha’ doing here?”

Hell, here goes nothing, “Jungkook called me here.”

“Jungkook, who?” The other one — the travel-sized counterpart — laughed, hitting his friend’s shoulder in his drunken haze. “We know no Jungkook.”

They were still blocking the entrance, and you were not in the mood to commence an arrogant dissertation on why they did know the Jungkook you were referring to, and why was their ruse so evident. Shivering inside the leather jacket, you tried to find a way around the words he wanted so desperately to hear. “I am his friend,” you said.

The smaller of the two scoffed. “Jungkook has no friends.”

“I thought you knew no Jungkook,” you smirked, devilishly, but the brainless pair would not subside in their efforts to rip a confession out of your — literal — cold body. “For fucks sake. I am his girl. Jungkook’s. The one that gets to fuck him every night while you two try to resist the homoerotic dynamics you have seen yourselves trapped into. Now let me in, Tweedledee.”

“A straight-up bitch. Hot.” They murmured as you made your way into the hall. Inside, a myriad of bodies crammed the room, pressed against one another. Girls in short dresses and stressed boys trying to get their attention roamed around, red cup in hand. Their scent was sweetly rancid, a mixture of alcohol, sweat and pheromones you would not be able to stand for long without a drink in your hand.

No. Wait. Probably wouldn’t be the wisest of ideas to be intoxicated while pretending to be someone else’s girlfriend for the night. You got awfully sincere when you had alcohol, and the last thing you needed was to ruin your saved favor, especially after going through all the trouble you did. Next step would not be to drink away your disgust, as compelling as that seemed to be, but to find out your pathetically inadequate fake boyfriend.

Taking a deep breath, you skirted the overabundance of bodies as you made your way past the main living room, finding solace in a somewhat calm corner of the ambient. You leaned your back against the asperous wall, taking your phone out of your purse. Numb, your thumbs cried under the effort of unlocking the device and moving to his contact — that arrogant smile on that nauseatingly perfect display picture — to type your impatient messages:

You said: Hey, loser

You said: I’m here already

You said: Where can I find you?

You waited for a few seconds to see if he would get online, but nothing appeared on your screen. For a moment your mind wandered towards the possibility of it all being a prank, after all: to get you, a serious and stuff girl, in that outrageously small piece of red fabric would be a huge joke on itself, even more if he managed to show it off to his friends. If that was the case, you would transfer colleges. Not to be overdramatic or anything.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think I told you to wear a jacket, baby girl.”

The second you raised your gaze, you came to regret your reckless decision — not in the cutesy, hesitant manner you were feeling aforetime, but in the this-was-a-horrible-idea-and-my-life-is-over type of shit. Not because you were in any sort of danger, but because you accepted the fact that you had absolutely no way to control yourself near the sheer sexual temptation that was Jeon Jungkook. Not like that.

In all his glory, the idiot looked the best he ever did. With his black hair slightly disheveled, parted almost in the middle, and eyes gleaming under the neon lights of the frat house, he looked like he had just stepped out of a photoshoot for Men’s Health. His team’s jacket — blue and white, with the symbol of your college — had its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the veins in his forearms; unbuttoned so it presented you with the v-cut shirt he wore underneath, grey. You could see the outlines of his fucking abs with that crap. Muscle pig. It was absurd. He should take it off.

And of course, there were those fucking thighs. But you would not allow your gaze to fall under his waistline just yet. Yet.

A hum from his part interrupted your momentaneous fall into inferno, making you realize how quickly your heart started to beat. “You’re lucky you’re hot as fuck,” Jungkook acknowledged, his own eyes falling to your form, eyebrows slightly arched. “I always knew I had good taste for girlfriends.”

The silence between you was bubbling with an unspoken tension. Sexual, Cosmopolitan would have defined it as purely sexual. "Ten Easy Tips to Know if your Crush Wants you Too," or something of the sort would had been plastered all over the cover, where a barely-legal model would have judged you with doe-like eyes.

Jungkook's roseate tongue came out to wet his lips, to fill the void words had left behind with a heavy sigh. You wondered what those lips tasted like. Had you been asked to guess, you would have said cherry, or strawberry — although you were certain he had been drinking beer or, worse, cheap tequila shots.

The faux courage that had been motioning your body forward ever since you abandoned the dorms was now slipping in between your fingers as you reached for the hem of his jacket. "You look—" you started, but your mind went blank in a maelstrom of adjectives, amongst which you found barely no insults.

"—smoking hot?" Jungkook ventured. He was not mistaken, but still you scoffed. It the quintessence of your being, the endless sarcasm; you could not just abandon the truth of your nature for a boyfriend. A fake one, to top it all.

"I was going to say stereotyped, but hot also fits. I guess," index pressed against his chest, you leaned forward reducing the space between your bodies to naught. Air escaped in between his teeth when your lips caressed his ear with your murmurations. "What now, baby?" you mumbled, oblivious to his fingers as they traveled up your arm in a tender caress.

"Honestly?" the impish gleam of his eyes was a bad omen or, at least, the indication that you were not prepared in the slightest for what was to come. "I want to kiss the hell out of you, but not here."

For a second, you allowed yourself to forget that it was all an act. Without a second thought, you found yourself biting your lower lip in sheer desire. Lucky you, the boy would most likely think that was part of the fake love, and not your raging hormones coming out to say hello. “I would very much like that, yes,” you purred out against his skin, pressing your chest against his own. His heart was beating fast, but yours was no different. “Where to?”

Jungkook seemed to take a second to calm his nerves, clearing his mind from the impulses that flashed within his needs — if he were to be sincere, you two could forget that plan and just have a private place for yourselves, but there was a protocol to follow, his reputation at stake. “Couch,” that word came out in a serpentine whisper, muffled as if had been verbalized miles underneath the sea. Against your waist, his palm held your skin in an almost protective manner — yet, both of you were holding back now.

You hummed in agreement. His scent was intoxicating you, the heat of his body was monopolizing your most logical of conceptualizations. “Take me whenever you need me,” you agreed as one of your hands slid down his chest — jesus, those fucking abs — and towards his own hand. You intertwined his fingers in his, loving that position a bit more than you probably should. “Should we?”

If he had said something in return, you did not hear it. Before you could control yourself any further, the boy was already guiding you past the chaotic ocean of exhilarated bodies, holding down to your hand as if it was his own version of salvation. Jungkook was lucky he was hot — very fucking hot, at that — otherwise you would have cracked another joke or two about how eager he appeared to be. Still, you were certain it would backfire.

“I see you want to put up a show,” was what you said instead, accompanying his harsh movements as the two of you arrived upon the center of the room — the heart of the party, if you could say that. From your peripheral vision, you could see splashes of blue and white moving around, signaling that more of his teammates were around. Classic show off. “Want everyone watching.”

“You have no clue, babe.” Jungkook turned around just in time so he could see the glimpses of lust coruscating inside your eyes. Bedroom eyes. Cute. “I want that jacket off.”

“No deal,” you told him promptly. With a groan, the boy threw himself on a beige couch nearby, sitting somewhat close to where another two jocks conversed vigorously, waving their red cups in the air like they were not half full. It was only a matter of seconds before they saw the two of you — more precisely you — and his pretty spectacle would finally begin. “Why do you want to expose your girlfriend like this?”

It was no problem. He could take it off himself.

As a response, Jungkook simply placed his hands on his thighs, signaling you that it would be your seat for the night — seems like you would be sitting in his lap, after all. “Come here, baby,” he requested. Okay, you would be lying through your teeth if you said that the place did not appear to be as inviting as possible. “Let me have a taste of you.”

To hell with it. If you were going to act it out, you might as well put up a show, and calm down your raging hormones as you did so.

And fuck, there were some things that 90s movies could never prepare you for. There was no scene, no soundtrack, no music video able to distract you from how firm his legs were as you sat down on top of them, dress slightly moving up your thighs. There was no director, no storyline that could guide your hands around his neck as you tilted your head and closed your eyes, falling to the absolute misery that was Jeon Jungkook. There was nothing in the entire world that could have made you pull away.

What a terrible fucking idea.

Jungkook groaned as soon as your lips met, quick to set the pace as a quick, needy, sloppy kiss. His hands, before so vacillating, now had traveled to your ass, where he squeezed your flesh, making you press down your hips against his, not letting it go for a second. You melted against his kiss, allowing yourself to sigh and moan against his mouth as his tongue encountered yours. Lacking places to hold onto, your hands moved to his cheeks, then to his hair, intertwining in his black locks and pulling on them.

Okay, there were things you regretted. You thought there was nothing capable of topping the preposterous plan of pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend, but that was because you had not reached that point of the night just yet. Because you had still not pulled away just enough so you could speak, caressing his lips with your own, speaking in a voice so filled with lust that you were surprised yourself. “Is that all you can do, kiddo?” you provoked him. “Come on, Jeon, is this how you treat your girl?”

He smirked. “Believe me, princess, there’s nothing I’d love more than treat you the way you deserve. Anything for you. But, you see, the audience is waiting and, as much as I would love to fuck you raw in this couch, I’d rather give the show I promised, and then renegotiate the initial clauses of our little contract,” then, a small pause, “if you are interested, of course.”

The boy was an idiot, or so you had thought: Jeon Jungkook, the dumbass that lets his dick make every essential decision, and doesn’t grasp even half of the references you throw at him. Apparently, that was not the case, and his intelligence was extensive only when he had to protect his pride and bring to term an important business. In other words, he wasn’t dumb, he wa just a selfish little prick.

Fingers sauntering up your thigh, Jungkook murmured in-between delicate kisses, and it made it impossible for you to deliver a witty remark. Every few words he would stop to taste your flesh with the tip of his tongue, and then nip it with his teeth. Lost in the feverish reverie of his tender caresses, you abandoned yourself to the feel of his kisses as his lips marked the path towards your jaw, your cheek. With a sigh falling from your swollen lips, you hoped to express the thirst he had incited, but he merely watched your reaction, diverted. Motherfucker. He knew what he was doing.

“For now,” he said against your ear, marking each word with a tap of his finger against your thigh. “This will have to do.” His thumb slid past the hem of your skirt and fuck, how you wished he were to continue his journey towards your underwear. There had been no specifications about that matter, but you had added your distinctive touch to the outfit. Jungkook did not know yet, but he would have loved to take that off you.

“I really think you can step up your game, Jungkook.” You looked around, biting your lips. None of the players around you were particularly interested in your little affair. Short skirts and exhibitionism were the daily bread of all those jocks. Luckily, that night no one had pulled out their dicks to measure them or start a peeing contest. Perhaps later in the night, when alcohol run freely through their bloodstream, eliminating their inhibition — or what was left of it, anyways. “This show of yours will impress no one.”

As if motioned by the fuel of a good challenge, Jungkook pounced over your lips. His touch was no longer delicate, contained, or meticulous, as it was before. Earlier, all he had wanted was to create a beautiful painting in which you, a girl that would have never had any interest for the jock in the class, was head over heels for him. He cared not about his audience, not anymore, as he could not bring himself to think of the friends he was supposed to impress. His only and most primal desire was to prove himself, to erase the disdainful sneer tainting those lips that were like nectar against his tongue.

You threw yourself off his lap and leaned your back against the arm of the sofa, being trapped between it and his large figure. In the impetus of his sudden adoration, you lost your hold on reality and allowed for him to overtake you, pressing his chest against your own. Jungkook’s hand in the small of your back cushioned your descents to the inferno of his hips pressed against yours, hands exploring your waist, and the curve of your breasts over the tight dress.

It was getting more and more difficult to come to your senses when all you could feel were his palms against your breasts, only to go down to your ass a second later. Your dress was being pulled upwards, your heart overtaken by the intoxicated by rhythm of the song as one of his legs moved in between yours, pressing down on your core — gradually at first, but then strong enough for you to moan loudly against his mouth. This kid was playing with fire. You loved it.

You were out of breath and out of mind when a voice called from the outside world, that universe of flashing comets and red asters circulating around your sweltering bodies. “Hey kid! Jungkook!” the unknown timbre insisted further and, before you could recognize it, Jungkook had pushed himself away from you to smile at a stranger. Whoever it was, you wanted him killed for interrupting your search for nirvana. “You know we have rooms for that kind of unholy shit. Leave all the exhibitionism for Jimin, he loves it.”

With a smirk, his victory became plastered across his douchebag face, “I got carried away, sorry,” Jungkook explained, lips shining with the remnants of your gloss. His hand was still against your waist, but he showed no shame when he winked in your direction, purposefully following your eyes as they grew darker — he was loving it. “Tastes like heaven, y’know?”

The other guy, whose name you could not quite recall, simply rolled his eyes at the out-of-character sentence, “Whatever you say, dude,” he mumbled underneath the music, unaffected by show you two had put up. Instead, his gaze seemed to be a bit lost in the remanent liquid that dwelled on the bottom of his red cup — poor kid was completely wasted. “Uh, by the way, before I forget. Namjoon has been looking for you for like two hours or whatever. He says, and I quote, that he wants to see it or he won’t believe it.”

Jungkook’s smile grew by a few millimeters, finding in that sentence the opportunity he needed. He didn’t need half of your GPA to understand what his friend was referring to, “Yeah, sure thing, man,” he answered. You were amazed how casually he was acting for someone who still had one hand holding tightly to your ass, but you could not claim you did not like it. In fact, he could strip you naked for all you cared, fake boyfriend or not. “Where is he, by the way?”

Chewing on his words for a second, the guy paused. His chocolate-colored eyes got lost in the horizon and, at last, you came to understand that he must have consumed something other than alcohol — hey, no judgement, you were not precisely the morally superior person in that conversation. “He was at the game room with the dudes. I don’t know if they’re still there.”

“Perfect,” Jungkook exclaimed, his palm squeezing your ass once again. Only then did you notice that, in the meantime, his shirt had rolled up a bit. Now you totally could see those abs you have always dreamt about and, good lord, they were even better than what you imagined. If you were not acting then, you would have cursed out his unnamed friend for interrupting that slack of paradise — but hell, the ghostly sensation of his lips on yours still got the best of you. Fucking prick. He was too powerful. “Thanks, Tae. You didn’t see anything.”

Tae… Taehyung. Oh, now you remembered. The kid who got high and ate pizza from the bottom of the pool in freshman year. Disgusting and slightly worrisome. You thought some memories could be left forgotten.

Taehyung suspired. “I did, though,” only then did his gaze navigate back to you, lingering on your face for a couple more seconds than necessary. You didn’t know if it were the drugs acting up, or if he was examining your artificially naive expression. “Hot choice of panties, by the way. Your ass looks great in lacy black. Cheers to that.”

“You have really good taste, buddy.” With a radiant smile, you agreed. Past the blur of weed and alcohol, Taehyung replicated the gesture, and raised his red cup in a giddy toast. Whether he was lauding the glorious roundness of your ass, or the intricate beauty of your one and only pair of expensive panties, you did not care. There was no use for shame within those walls, especially when your ass was indeed hot confined within the soft lace. “Imaginary cheers to that.”

It was a moment of amicable comradery, even though Taehyung was one shot away from becoming the buffon of the party. Around your waist, Jungkook’s fingers tightened but, before you could turn around to face his predictable displeasure, the moment ended, and you were presented with a luciferous smile.

“Noted. Thank you dude, see you around.” Jungkook screamed over the loud bass of a terrible remix of a very popular song you wished was shorter. The constant chit-chat developing around did not help communicate but, luckily, you were not required to hold a challenging conversation that night. With a peck in the lips and a light squeeze of your ass, Jungkook prompted you to move. It was strangely loving — for a jock, at least.

Once anew, he guided you through the crowd, a hand in your waist and the other buried deep in one of the pockets of his jacket. The picture was magazine-worthy. One of those blurry shots, taken with a Polaroid, that could had made it into the cover of an Indie album — even if Jungkook could have starred in an Abercrombie & Fitch ad, jacket and all.

“Where is that fucking game room?” The question felt extremely bitter against your tongue when you had to wipe someone else’s sweat off your arm. The party was heating up, and not in the good way. “Please tell me it isn’t some Fifty Shades of Grey shit.”

“Didn’t picture you as one of those.” Jungkook let go of your waist to interwine his fingers in yours. It was calming, the chilliness of his hand against your sweltering skin. “But no, here we never watched that. The dudes are, you know, more into anal compilations and shit like that— not me!” He rushed to say, hands up in a gesture of defeat. “Baby Jesus wouldn’t not approve.”

That was, by far, the weirdest conversation you’ve had in a long time.

“Pity, now that I thought we would make a great pair.” You sighed. “I guess I’ll have to find another hot dude to watch my kinky porn with.”

“I— sweet lord.” With shaky hands he massaged his cheeks. You were exhausting, even for him. Good. “We’ll discuss that later.” Jungkook opened one of the doors in the hallway, leading into a big space that was, precisely, only meant to game. “Now we have business to do.”

Biting down on your lower lip, you took a couple steps into the large area, absorbing its details. The first thing you noticed, as your company closed the door behind you two, was that it was soundproof — finally, a blessing for the night. As the excruciating buzzing in your ears still lingered, your hearing started to focus on the diverse conversations that dwelled beyond those closed doors. From what you could notice, there had to be around fifteen people in there — stereotypical jocks and cheerleaders, if you were to be quite honest — and they were mostly segregated into two smaller groups. One of which, you recognized, had the individual you two had been looking for.

Now, Kim Namjoon was a specimen of his own kind. You had no idea what kind of satanic pact had he resorted to, but it had been good enough to gift him the brain of a Harvard professor and the body of a professional athlete — all wrapped up in that team jacket, which suited him so dangerously well. You would be lying through clenched teeth if you were to say you had not checked him out at least once or twice during your shared Advanced Literature classes — but that was a secret that would be buried with you. Again, he was still one of those fraternity types, and blowing up their egos was as easy as blowing other, less christian areas.

Again, you would be lying if you said you had not considered that either.

Jungkook’s arm found the curvature of your waist once again, making you fall back into your usual acting state. Next to you, the boy was smiling freely — not in a sympathetic manner, but in a I’m-getting-good-sex-tonight kind of smile. He could keep dreaming, for all you cared. “What’s up, Kim?” he cheered, guiding you around the grey couch. Considerably large, it was surrounded by two armchairs, forming a square-like shape in the center of the room. On the wall next to it, a baseball game was silenced on the LED screen. “Thought I wouldn’t see you tonight.”

Namjoon had his elbows resting on a marble table, seating on one of the tall benches that surrounded it. You were surprised he had even found empty space in there, since all you could see was a pandemonium of empty bottles and pizza boxes. “I should be one one saying that, Jeon.” The other jock smiled just as freely, exposing those dimples you had always found unbearably cute. He did not look at you for a second. “You are not one to vanish during a party. Did you get laid or something?”

“See, Namjoon, your friend Jungkook is trying to get laid tonight, but let’s see how that goes, right honey?” You butted in, to Namjoon’s dismay. Very delicately, like the Disney princess you were not. You sat on the couch, paying no mind to the many diverse types of stains dotting it. Kim Namjoon was not going to ignore you, like you were a nothing but a pretty decoration Jungkook carried around to show off — especially not when you could beat his non-existent genius ass any day during a debate. “Hi, Namjoon. Didn’t see you in class last Wednesday.”

“Hangover.” He explained, taking a bite off a chewy slice of cheese pizza. “I have to confess I am surprised. I thought you were joking when you said you two were—”

“—dating, yes. I’m a married man now, Namjoon. No more getting laid with just anybody.” Jungkook flopped by your side. His hand went immediately towards your naked knee, and there it stayed. Very subtle.

“What do you guys talk about?” Namjoon pried, impertinently. In his timbre you could perceive a hint of disbelief, and it was understandable. He had seen you in action, going after your debate opponents like a shark in bloody waters. Jungkook was, compared to the you he had witnessed, a kindergartener in nappies, and he simply couldn’t comprehend how the two of you could work together — or even compliment each other, honestly.

“Volleyball.” Jungkook said, with an enthusiasm that made your wry smile pathetic. “She loves volleyball.”

Namjoon crackled at the unexpectedly joyful response. “Never seen her in a game.”

“I’m more of a theoretical fan of — of the sports.” Eyes disappearing into the fakest smile, you tried to escape the trap Jungkook had thrown you into. Namjoon was correct. You had not set foot in a court ever since high-school, and even back then you had only done so because it was mandatory. “I have watched Haikyuu at least thrice. I’m an expert.”

“She’ll come to the next one.” Jungkook kissed your cheek, interrupting your excused before it was too late. The touch of his petal-like lips was, at the very least, pleasant. “We made a deal. She wears my jacket and I use the shortest pants I own for the game.”

Namjoon chuckled at the idea, still skeptical. You knew he would be a hard one to convince, since he usually saw through your bullshit — both in debates and in real life. “Yeah, right,” was all that he managed to say, still dodging your gaze. Oh, you saw what he was doing. Sneaky motherfucker. Sly little snake. By avoiding you and focusing on your fake boyfriend, he was both pressing on the one easier to slip on the lie, and annoying you. He knew how you got when you were hot-headed and that was, once again, a recipe for disaster. “In all seriousness, weeaboo anime aside, what do you… theoretically like about volleyball?”

No eye contact still. Fair. Two could play that game.

“Physics,” you answered within a heartbeat, almost surprising yourself by how naturally that response came from in between your lips. Not necessarily a lie, too. But that was a long story. “I told you this already. Volleyball can be explained with high school-level of mechanics. Energy and work, force, projectile motion… You know the deal.”

Namjoon hummed, watching closely the line of cheese that dripped down his pizza. “Yeah, I know the deal,” he told you. He had not bought it. “And I know you know it too. My question is,” he paused, looking up to point at Jungkook. “Does he?”

Well, you just had to know it would backfire like that. Still, you barely had time to feel panic starting to germinate in your throat before Jungkook interrupted the conversation with flawless grace, “Not much, that is why she’s teaching me,” perfect. Simple. Fail proof. You could barely believe that the single neuron that inhabited his mind managed to make a synapsis with itself and come up with that. “Yo, man, why are you so defensive all of a sudden? You’re making my girl uncomfortable.”

My girl. You hated how much you liked that.

His friend hesitated for a second, chewing slowly on the piece of food. It didn’t seem like it was any good. In the very least, it was cold. “Yeah. My bad, dude. Bad week,” Namjoon was quick to apologize, which you did not believe for an instant. He was smarter than that, more arrogant than someone that would so fast admit to his own fault. “Guess I just can’t believe you managed to get a girl like Y/N. Life sucks sometimes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you were the one who asked it, even if both of you were thinking it. It was your turn to try and not to get defensive, but it was getting harder and harder by the second. You crossed your legs, which induced for your red dress to slip up your legs. Namjoon followed the movement, and then his gaze was stuck. Oh. Maybe there was another reason for his lack of eye contact. “Don’t tell me that the great captain Kim Namjoon is suddenly jealous.”

He shrugged. “Call it whatever you want. But you do look hotter than ninety-five percent of the chicks I’ve seen all year,” and then, his next sentences were directed straight at Jungkook. “I don’t know if you had the chance to see it already, man, but she has a great taste for underwear.”

Ninety-five was a good percentile, but you were indeed hot in that dress. Namjoon trembled, almost imperceptibly, when you slid your legs over Jungkook’s lap, to cuddle against his chest. In all honesty, the posture was not comfortable, not in that dress. Had you been back in the dorm, in your PJ’s, the tale would have been completely different; but Namjoon’s expression was a poem — a terrible one, at that — and that was enough satisfaction for the moment.

When you sighed, Namjoon replicated it, in a long-drawled, cheese-scented exhalation. The sound he emitted was pitiful, but it helped you comprehend fully the frustration the poor boy was submitted to, and the ultimate reason behind his pizza binge. His was a severe case of blue balls, and you were the one and only cause it. Cute.

“Namjoon, if you really want to address my exquisite taste in underwear, you can tell me directly,” you said. A thread of cheese remained in precarious equilibrium in between his lower lip and his hand, as he struggled for once to follow your words. The genius had short-circuited over lacy panties and the grossest kind of PDA. Another achievement unlocked in the marvelous experience that was college. It would look beautiful in your curriculum, right beside your volunteer work. “Jungkook is more used to seeing me without it. He wouldn’t understand our fantastic taste.”

“Babe,” Jungkook whined, caressing your thigh to make you cognizant of his presence. “I do love your underwear—”

“—Scattered all over your bedroom.” You whispered in the most impish little voice. By the glance he returned, Jungkook had loved the image. Maybe it was just your imagination, maybe you were in character and your discerning was altered, but you could have sworn his dick had twitched at the thought. Interesting.

To drown his sorrow, Namjoon took yet another slice of pizza. The boy could eat. He was still munching his previous victim, and it was making you hungry. Jungkook was very hot and all, but he had not offered to get you a drink or something to eat. Chivalry was, indeed, dead. “Let me ask you a question, Y/N,” Namjoon murmured in-between greasy bites. “It’ll be easy. I promise.”

“I’m all ears.”

“What is it, exactly, what made you fall for our ace?” Namjoon inquired. It was an unexpected question. A cheerleader could have asked the same, waiting you to offer a bland response in the trite language all popular girls had long mastered like: his big, big eyes; his toothpaste commercial worthy smile, the humongous size of his — not his brain, that was for certain.

But it was not a cheerleader the one to make the question, but Namjoon. Out of all the athletes in the house, Namjoon was the only one you had ever exchanged more than a few words with. Interesting words. The kind that — put together in a coherent sentence — form conversation two functional adults can take pleasure in. “Does he read Whitman to make you sleep?” He pressed further.

Before you could think twice, the words were already departing from your lips. “He rants about your pep-talks, that’s enough to have me snoring in seconds.”

He scoffed. “Nice comeback, it’s a pity that you’ve been avoiding my question like the plague,” Namjoon said in what appeared to be a groan, patience starting to run thin. At last, he appeared to have finished eating his horniness away, for he dropped the last slice of pizza back in the box. “Let me rephrase that, then—”

Next to you, Jungkook fumbled on his seat. “—Namjoon, bro, that’s enough,” he said firmly, almost an order. From the way Namjoon’s eyebrows moved together into a frown, you could tell that such serious demeanor was also uncommon amongst his group of friends. Jungkook was only serious in two situations: during games, and when his white knight complex had been activated. You would guess that was the latter. “I know it’s hard to believe, all right? Even I don’t buy it sometimes. But this is exactly why we didn’t tell you guys earlier, I knew you’d have a blast interrogating my girlfriend. And this is not cool, alright? It’s not cool that you’re over here talking about her underwear and acting like you’d be a total catch compared to me. Fuck that shit, dude, don’t ruin the night for us just because you got some jealousy stuck up your ass.”

Silence. The other boy took a second, then two, to chew what was left on his mouth, closely analyzing his friend. You could see the wheels moving inside Namjoon’s brain and — unlike Jungkook — he had more than one synapsis to make. “Hey, fair enough,” he said. And then he started smiling. Actually smiling. Putting-the-Cheshire-Cat-To-Shame kind of smile. “What has gotten into you tonight, uh? Jesus. I’m just fucking with you, didn’t think you’d get this overprotective. That’s some serious shit you’ve gotten yourself into, Jeon.”

Jungkook seemed to take an instant to fully digest the unforeseen change of demeanor, then joined his friend in his laugh. “Bro, what the fuck? You were annoying as hell,” he was clearly puzzled, even if you could see sheer alleviation in that smile. Oh, honey. He was not acting over there, was he? Poor kid really took that to heart. “Get outta here with that interrogation bullshit, Sherlock Holmes.”

“Look at that, you already know one famous victorian character,” Namjoon sarcastically celebrated, turning back at you — still living in the apex of confusion. You should have stayed home and read a book, where men are predictable and fraternity athletes as just a ghost in your memory. “You’ve been a positive influence so far, Y/N, props to that. I’ve been trying to get him to at least watch the movies for ages.”

“He only agreed to watch it once I explained Iron Man featured in it.” Taking advantage of your fake-girlfriend privileges, you slid your hand under Jungkook’s shirt. Fingers dawdling over his warm skin, you delighted in the sensation of his muscles quivering under your touch. It would not be noticeable to Namjoon — although he was particularly sharp that night. Words encompassing your feathery caresses, you murmured into his ear. “I’m thirsty, babe.”

Namjoon looked away when you nuzzled Jungkook’s neck, to bury his jealousy under another pile of cheese.

“Do you want some beer?” Jungkook blinked twice, trying to decipher the sudden change in the inflections of your voice. It was no longer playful, teasing, but dripping something he could have only categorised as desire. Jungkook was dense, enough to miss the a very evident innuendo by a mile. “I can go get you something.”

“No, not that.” Your fingers treaded an undiscovered path towards the lines of his hips, and the hem of his pants. His brain had missed the memo, but his dick was extremely eager to catch up, and was now constricted against his belt. The moment he rose from the couch, the boner would be exposed, and it would give him the perfect opportunity to drag you away from the room and towards his bedroom. “Jungkook… Let’s go.”

“I need to go to the bathroom first.” He excused himself to Namjoon, who had decided to embrace his solitude by hugging the pizza box and returning his attention to the baseball game. His team was losing. Big night for Kim Namjoon.

Jungkook pecked your lips and scurried from below your body. The room was cold now that he had left, and Namjoon was not willing to talk.

“So… pizza, huh?” you said, fixing your clothes. The last thing our brave captain needed was to take another glimpse at your ass.

Namjoon stared into the screen, absorbed by the little figures moving around. It was hard to believe that someone like him could he find baseball so entrancing. “So…Jungkook, huh?”

There it was. Jealousy, in its rawest form. He would never be so explicit in front of Jungkook, they were friends after all, but with you Namjoon could say whatever thoughts crossed his mind. “You know Jungkook isn’t as stupid as he wants all of campus to believe. He might not be a genius like you, but he is smart. He’s just a little bit caught up in the popularity game,” you said. The words leaving your mouth surprised you. Kind words for Jeon Jungkook, what a night to be alive. “Don’t be so surprised, Namjoon.”

The baseball game was no longer as relevant, for Namjoon deigned to look at you. Browns knitted in incredulity, he dropped the last slice of pizza and cleaned his hands in the team jacket. Symbolically, it was not a good thing, but he was probably overdosing on cheese. “I’m not surprised. Maybe you like him, after all.”

“Maybe I do.” You confessed with a quick wink and a guilty smile. “He gives good head, too.”

“That’s too much information.” Namjoon was nauseated, but he would never say it aloud. There was also the possibility that it was not nausea the grimace transfiguring his cute face, but jealousy. “You should go get your boyfriend, though, I think he got lost in his own reflection or something.”

Just like Namjoon had suggested, you followed Jungkook’s trail towards the bathroom. Trail, as in asking the couples making out in the hallway where the bathroom was. The first pair had not responded you, they were too busy sucking each other’s tongues to even form a coherent sentence. Titty in hand, the man in the second pair of lovers, explained where to find the bathroom — that was also known as the knocking shop.

To be fair, you knocked, but the music was too loud and the sound too timid. When you received no indication from Jungkook, you opened the door. At first you could not see past the outrageously pink sink. It was horrifyingly ugly. Jungkook rested against it, his forehead was pressed against the mirror, his warm exhalations creating beautiful designs over the reflective surface. One of his hands gripped tightly the sink, the veins of his arms visible, like rivers you had loved to explore through your fingertips. His other hand was trapped within the confines of his jeans, pressed against his dick. With every sigh and every moan, he would roll his hips against his hand, fucking himself into oblivion. All signs of arrogance vanished from his features when he was about to cum. Vulnerability looked so pretty on him.

You wished there was a joke you could crack, even if to yourself, that could serve as a coping mechanism to whatever the fuck you were being presented with. Still, nothing came out of your lips besides a loud, slightly horrified:

“What the actual fuck, Jungkook?”

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mikey-girl12-archive · 5 years

Text

Disappear

Word count: 1,708

Warnings: angst, cheating, mentions of bad past, mentions of manipulation.

A/N: i wrote this in 2 hours instead of sleeping. The only editing it's been through is grammar check on google docs. sorry if it sucks. this is for @musicphanpie-b (i think) who said that more logince was needed. also tagging @sardonic-soprano and @friendlyinternetmeerkat

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

Roman was sitting in his room staring at the wall, looking at the pictures of all of his friends. They were all smiling and roman used to think that there would never be a time looking at those pictures made him sad. Now all he sees is the lies that each one held. He couldn't help but feel like a fool as he looked at his now ex’s face in the photo. Anger filled him in a spur of the moment and he stood dashing to the wall he ripped down every picture that had his face on it. The red he was seeing faded as he looked down at the now crumpled and ripped memories. A tear began streaming down his face once again and he leaned against the wall. Sliding down slowly he looked at the roof, covering his mouth to hold in the sobs. Stupid Logan, Stupid Heart --------

Roman held his books to his chest as he entered his new school, this was his chance at a fresh start after everything he had been through at his old school. He smiled at everyone who looked at him as he walked down the hall and to the office to get his schedule. “Hi! Im Roman Princeton! I moved here from New York and I was told to come in here for my schedule?” roman asked the older woman behind the desk. With a sigh, she looked up from the book she was reading and turned to her computer. The silence had roman bouncing lightly on his feet. She tapped a few buttons before pushing away from the wooden desk and heading to the printer. “Here, im calling for a fellow senior to show you around the school. Sit in that chair, don't talk or fidget and wait for him to get here.” her voice was harsh and Roman wondered briefly how she got a job in a school. Turning he walked quickly to the seat and sat down to look over his schedule. A few agonizing minutes later the door opened to a teen in a bright blue polo with a gray cardigan over his shoulders. Roman smiled as he stood fixing his red jacket. “Hi! Im Patton, you must be Roman! Come with me” after a light handshake Roman was following the cheerful lad down the hallway. He pointed out every class on Romans schedule, explained the lunch routine, and showed him where the gym, library, and lunchroom was. “And if you ever get lonely just sit with me and my friends! We don't bite. Well, Virgil might just don't touch him until he's used to you!” Patton explained as he came to a stop in front of a group of lockers. Roman laughed assuming the other boy was joking until he saw the serious look on his face. “This is your locker-” whatever else Patton was going to say was cut off by the bell and the student filling the hallway. “-see you at lunch roman.” ----------- It had been nearly three months since the beginning of school and roman had officially become one of the ‘popular’ kids. Meaning he was seen with the famous trio and quickly became like a god in his school. Patton, Virgil, and Logan had accepted him with open arms. And roman learned that they ruled the school, but as far as he had seen they didn't abuse that power. And slowly he felt a bud growing in his heart, one that he helped grow instead of squishing. Roman had a crush and unlike before he allowed himself to fall. ------------- It had been 4 months since he had come to this school and he couldn't have been happier. He admitted his feelings to logan and the boy had returned them! Roman had friends and a boyfriend and was so well loved that nobody dared to start rumors about him. In his eyes, he had it all, until the day that a boy he had never seen before pulled him into the bathroom and locked the door. “Look I know you probably have no idea who I am but im trying to help you.” the boy spoke his face hidden in his hoodie. “Help me? What could I possibly need help with?” roman had asked confused. The boy shook his head as he reached into his backpack and pulled out an envelope. “Take my advice. The trio, they are not who you think they are. They are bad people and you don't need that in your life. Take it from a survivor.” with that he unlocked the door, shoving the envelope in Romans hand and disappeared into the lunchtime traffic. Roman looked at the envelope before shoving it into his bag. Roman had forgotten all about the awkward encounter until he reached home. Walking into his room he threw his bag on the bed forgetting that he didn't close it. His books spilled across the bed and onto the floor with a thud. Sighing he walked over to pick them up when he saw the envelope sticking out of the opening of his bag. Curiosity won as he reacher for it pulling it out and opening it. Inside the white package was pictures, pictures of logan with another boy. They looked younger maybe around 16, and it occurred to roman that these were old. Confused as to why he looked at the next picture. Unlike the first one where they were cuddled up in this one logan looked distant. The next three were screenshots of text messages. Each one shows logan becoming more and more distant from the boy. The last one showing only a single message from Logan. ‘ there never was a we. I prefer to look for love and we don't have that. We never did’ Roman laid the picture on his bed as he looked at the wall where his pictures hung. In every one he and his friends were cuddled up, laughing and smiling. Shaking his head he picked them up and shoved them back in the envelope. Opening his closet he slipped them in a box sitting on the top shelf. “Logan may not have loved you, but he loves me.” ------------- “Can you believe it! I got into acting school! I never thought this day would come!” roman cheered as he and Virgil walked down the hall. All around them were friendly faces except for the boy from that day in the bathroom. He looked at roman with pity, and he was ignored by the duo. “Your going to acting school, I got accepted to my dream school, Patton is in a cool summer program. The only person left is Logan. And he applied to all ivy league schools. You know Harvard, Yale, Stanford.” verge replied with a slight tilt to his lips. “Everything is going our way, Virgil! Nothing can stop us now!” --------- School had ended and with that summer had begun. Roman began to notice that logan was drifting away from him. All he could think about was the pictures still sitting in his closet. That couldn't happen to him, could it? With a sigh, he called Logan. His heart dropped as he heard a giggle come through the phone when he answered. There was a hushing whisper in the background causing the giggles to stop. “Sorry Ro that was my new roommate we're bonding before we move into the Harvard dorms,” Logan explained. Roman noticed that he was slightly breathless, and dread filled him. “Are you still coming to spend the weekend with me?” he asked hiding the pain in his voice. There was silence for a moment before logan hummed. “Yeah baby ill be there.” and then the line went dead. “Lo?” roman whispered into the dark but the only response was silence. ---------- Roman had been pacing his room floor all day, roman had said he'd be there hours ago and there was still no sign of him. Again Romans thoughts went back to the pictures in his closet. Hearing his door open he snapped his head to look in at his bedroom door. When it opened he moved to hug Logan stopping short. His heart broke at the sight in front of him. Logan was wearing his signature outfit. But the buttons on the shirt were undone and the tie was loose. Upon looking closer he noticed that logans neck was cover in red bruises. Tears filled Roman's eyes as he stepped away. “Logan please tell me this isn't what I think it is,” he begged. His life had just gotten good and now he was watching the facade crumble. The other boy didn't answer causing roman to look at the ground. “Was any of this real to you?” the words were quite and again they were met with silence. “Was I ever actually a choice to you? Or did you enjoy stringing me along until you got what you actually wanted?” roman looked at Logan. There wasn't a trace of regret on his face. “I should have listened to that boy, I should have known you were too good to be true!” he ripped off the bracelet logan had given him for their 5 month anniversary. He threw it at the other watching as Logan caught it with ease. He slipped it into his pocket as he turns and walked out, not a word spoken at all. Roman rushed to grab his phone dialing pattons number. The call didn't go through the voice telling him that he couldn't call a number the blocked him. Frowning he tried virgils number before it hit him. The boy had said that the trio wasn't who they seemed to be. Meaning that when he lost logan he lost them all. Blinking away the tears roman sat on his bed and stared at the wall holding their pictures. Maybe he had been blind to it at first, but now all the pieces fit. Patton had to intro him to logan. Virgil was the one who pushed him to confess his crush. They had it planned the whole time. Roman stared at the wall and for the first time in nearly a year, he wished he could just disappear.

#mikey-girl12s writing.#thomas sanders #thomas sanders fics #thomas sanders angst #sanders sides fic #logan sanders #roman sanders #roman x logan

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mysticmikalla · 6 years

Note

Dear GodMikalla, please hear me! Jumin and Unknown (feel free to add others if you're up to it ≖ᴗ≖ ) misunderstanding that MC is cheating on them?? *scandalized gasp* thanks

I hear you! First request for Unknown :o I’m not sure if this is for Dark!Saeran or Unknown from Casual and Deep story, but I’ll write it as Unknown from CS!

I feel like im always apologizing for making these hcs too damn long so I’ll just…accept the fact that I can’t write short hcs :/

anyway i hope yall enjoy!

***

Jumin

If you had told him two years ago that another person could mess with his head like this, he’d quietly chuckle and shake it off, thinking how utterly pathetic is was to allow someone else to control them

He used to foolishly believe he was in charge of his own emotions, feeling only what he wanted to feel

But as he sat on the living room couch, alone and wondering where you disappeared to every Thursday evening, he realized that he could not have been more wrong

He felt as if he was going to be sick

Jumin’s heart dropped and bile pooled in his stomach whenever you could come home late and blatantly lie about your whereabouts

He had never been particularly attentive towards people’s emotions, but goddammit, he could read yours as if they were his favorite book

With each lie that rolled of your tongue, Jumin felt sicker

His mind ran through the worst case scenarios a million times; they all featured you with someone else, gasping and moaning an unfamiliar name as you had previously done only for him

He had witnessed it many times, wondering why people would stay in a relationship that no longer made them happy, but now he understood

The business man couldn’t bring himself to confront you about it in fear that you confirmed his darkest thoughts

Not wanting to disrupt things, he let these thoughts eat him from the inside, allowing them to make him grow weaker and affect nearly every single aspect of his life, especially his work productivity

He couldn’t even find it in him to touch you, despite wanting to claim you as his once more

What if you called someone else’s name instead of his?

This dragged on for a few weeks, until finally he couldn’t think about anything but your face, flushed with pleasure under someone else, and he could feel it start driving him insane

So that’s what brought him to sit on the living couch on a Thursday night, waiting for you to get home

Not the wine or his precious cat could ease his mind as he tapped impatiently on the arm rest, watching the minutes tick by

He wasn’t sure if his stomach fluttered with relief or concern when you finally showed up, wearing exactly what you had in the afternoon, only your attire seemed to be a little messier

“Hey,” you greeted your fiancé, “You’re up late.”

He didn’t reply

His eyes were fixated on your untucked shirt tail, his heart clenching at the sight

“What were you doing?” You asked, hanging your jacket on the hanger by the door

Standing up, he slowly made his way towards you, “I could ask you the same thing,” He towered over your much smaller frame, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear ever so gently, “What were you doing out so late?”

You didn’t hesitate or stutter when you gave him your answer, but he knew you were lying

He knew that you were, in fact, not out jogging with your friend. Not when there was a huge indoor gym at the penthouse, and not when he had called said friend who confirmed you weren’t with them

“Please don’t lie to me,” he begged in a murmur, pulling you in for a hug and burying his face in your hair, “You smell like cologne.”

“Jumin-”

“Please don’t lie to me, MC.” He repeated, and you could detect a small falter in his voice

“I told you, I was out with-”

“Then why did they tell me they had no idea where you were, just a few minutes ago?” He was weak when it came to you. Years of learning self-control were wasted as he felt a sting in the corner of his eye, the smell of sweat mingling with cologne was toxic to the raven-haired man as he hugged you tighter

“Jumin, hold on. I can’t breathe,” you pulled away, looking up at your husband’s troubled face, “You called my friend?”

“Yes,” He admitted, “Why are you lying to me?”

“I-”

“Who are you sneaking around with behind my back?” He dropped his hands from your cheek, the words being said out loud making his thoughts a reality

“What are you saying?” You frowned. His accusation felt like a cold slap to your face

“MC…Who are you cheating on me with?” He held your gaze, such conviction lingering in those dark eyes of his that you were forced to look away

Jumin took that as a confession of guilt, and his own gaze dropping when he felt the punch of betrayal hit him deep in the gut

Those seconds before you spoke again were easily the most agonizing he had ever experienced, and more than anything he wished to be the man devoid of emotions everyone claimed he was

Being heartless was sure as hell easier than having one ripped away

“I’m not-I’m not cheating on you!” You stuttered, taking a step forward and taking your hand in his. He didn’t pull back, hating himself for relishing the warmth of your tiny hands in his larger ones, “Hey, look at me. Why would you think that?”

“I’m no fool, MC,” He seethed, “You’re sneaking off and refuse to tell me where to, you’ve been lying to me even though we promised to always be honest with each other,” He squeezed your hand, “You come home late smelling like another man.”

As you took in his words, your chest eased and a graduate smile filled your lips

“I can’t understand why you would smile right now.”

Cupping his cheek, you told him “Dance lessons.”

“What?”

You caressed his cheek with your thumb, noting how unusually fragile he looked under your touch, “I’ve been taking dance lessons to prepare for our wedding.”

“Mc,” He breathed, “What are you-Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” You laughed, “I’ll never forget how you limped for days after the first RFA party, I’d be mortified if I did that during our first dance as your wife.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed when your words sunk in and the wave of relief washed over him

All the worries and cruel thoughts he convinced himself of your infidelity with seemed so silly now, and of course you wouldn’t ever do anything like that

He pulled you in his arms again, a deep sigh he felt he had been holding in for weeks now escaping his lips, “You don’t understand-” He murmured, “You can’t understand how worried I was.”

You nuzzled into his chest, “You know I would never-”

“I know, my love, and I’m sorry I accused you,” he said, “I just couldn’t stop thinking about you finding someone else, I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you softened, “I probably really did look suspicious, huh?”

“I may have overreacted,” he kissed the top of your head, “But, please…no more surprises, okay?”

“No more surprises.” You agreed

Unknown

He was fucking furious

It didn’t come much as a surprise to you when he barged in, eyes frantically scanning the room until they met with yours

You merely raised an eyebrow at your lover, wondering what would have ticked him off this time

The first few months with him felt like Russian Roulette, what sent him off the edge one day could make him fall into a fit of laughter the next

His emotions were so volatile, it was often hard to tell what he was thinking

But by now you were used to his tantrums, and you knew exactly how to soothe him

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” He fumed, taking long strides towards you. You tilted your head, replaying all your recent interactions to pinpoint exactly what was troubling him

He smacked down a picture on the table in front of you with such force, you instinctively took his hand in yours to see if they were hurt

But as if your touch burned him, he shook you off before you could check, nodding towards the photo

“Explain that.”

The picture was nothing more than a low-quality CCTV capture of you embracing a man outside his apartment, his back to the camera and a smile plastered on your face

“What am I supposed to be explaining, exactly?”

He laughed bitterly, “Hm, I don’t know, how about…The fact that you were with another man late last night when you were suppose to be with me? Or the fact that I literally just caught you touching him the way you’re only supposed to touch me?”

“Saeran-” You reached for him but he took a step away from you

“I don’t even want to hear your excuses,” he threw his arms up, “I just wanted you to know that I know, and that I’m fucking done.”

He stormed out of the room before you could defend yourself, leaving you and your sunken heart alone

Saeran wouldn’t answer your calls or return your texts, and since he practically knew of your whereabouts at all times, avoiding you was easy

It had been four days, the longest you two had been without seeing each other since you got together, and what you had first dismissed as one of his usual tantrums now flooded your mind with worry

To you, it was ridiculous that he’d get that angry over something so petty, but you knew his mind. You knew how utterly insecure he was despite the confident persona, and fear that he would do something stupid haunted you into sleepless nights

Your heart contracted painfully in your chest as you replayed the look of betrayal and hurt in his eyes, wishing there something you could do to rid him of such emotions

Groaning, you hung up before his voice mail message could play for the hundredth time

You were positive he had either blocked you or deleted your number, because if only he read your texts or listened to your pleas, he’d understand

“Saeran, come on!” You whined to your phone, tossing it on your bed in a fit of frustration

You slumped in your seat, wondering how you could get a hold of someone so untouchable

“Unbelievable.” You muttered to yourself, glancing aimlessly around the room

Your eyes were met with the tiny camera he had installed-after lots and lots of arguing- for your protection

One look at that camera and you knew, you knew he was watching

It was as if you could feel his gaze burning into you through the lenses, so you grabbed a pen and scribbled on some paper

Saeran watched with confusion as you waved at the camera, furious at himself that he couldn’t seem to take his eye off you for even a second ever since he stormed off

You pointed at the paper, knowing that the footage didn’t capture audio

‘WATCH THE REST OF THE FOOTAGE, YOU DUMB HACKER’

He rolled his eyes, how dared you call him dumb when you were clearly in the wrong?

How fucking dared you even try to explain yourself when he had caught you so shamelessly deceiving him?

Nonetheless, he replayed the footage of you walking with the mysterious man he already despised

Why were you telling him to watch it again? Were you purposely trying to hurt him? Was this payback for the way he treated you at the beginning of your relationship? Were you trying-oh

As he watched you and the man cut off the embrace, his seething anger turned into embarrassment when the man walked away, finally facing the camera where he could identify him

He glanced over the live CCTV footage of you in your room, where you held up another sign

‘THAT’S MY FATHER’

It was him now who slumped back in his chair, overwhelming relief coming out as a laugh

Running a hand through his hair, he cursed under his breath, “Goddammit.”

He mustered the courage to call you back, watching the CCTV as you picked up instantly

“You need to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” He asked oh-so-innocently

“Assuming the worst all the time,” You huffed, “Have some more faith in me!”

“I can’t help it,” he shrugged, putting his feet up on the desk and leaning further into his chair, “It’s how you rid yourself of disappointment.”

“That’s not true,” he could see you frown, “And you gotta start giving yourself some more credit. I’d have to be dumb to cheat on a hacker like you.”

“You are.”

“Just,” you laughed, pinching the bridge of your nose and ignoring his remark, “Get over here already, okay?”

“I’m busy.”

He didn’t even have to glance at the screen to know your eyes rolled back, “Stop playing so hard to get, I’ll be waiting.”

And with that, you hung up, hoping that he’d show despite your confident words that he would

But, Goddammit, it was a no-brainer

Of course he’d show

#request #ahhh im not really sure how to end this lmao #also ive never written for unknown before #so im not sure if this is ok or not?#anyway i love jumin #mystic messenger #mystic messenger headcanons #mystic messenger fanfics #mystic messenger scenarios #jumin han #mm jumin #saeran choi #mm unknown #mysme

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crewhonk · 6 years

Text

Out Loud

Warnings: angst, swearing

Summary: Reader reflects on her relationship with her boyfriend Billy Hargrove after he leaves Hawkins after graduating.

Words: 3,509

AN: hi, yeah im sorry for this.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat for the third time this hour and coughed over the feeling of It choking you. It was hard to breathe since Billy had left— and his absence in the small town of Hawkins, Indiana was suffocating for you. You looked out the kitchen window for the first time since he had left and the forest surrounding your house seemed slightly more dull and lifeless. There were no deer in your yard, and the grass had begun to brown under the relentless exposure to the hot July sun. You stared at the closed fridge and your stomach turned at the thought of food so you turned away and leaned against the breakfast bar, letting out a dry sob and slamming your fist weakly against the tile.

You had graduated with your boyfriend Billy Hargrove earlier this week, and one day later he had left with no warning. No signs. Nothing. You had been mad for two days before the crippling sadness hit you like a brick and you had been trying to swallow the lump in your throat since.

There was a knock at your door and it echoed throughout your empty house and it took a few seconds to register in your mind that someone was at your front door. There was a second, harder knock that made you look up from the ant crawling on the tile in front of you. You walked to the door and breathed in deeply before opening the door and shielding your eyes against the sun. The air was warm and fresh and it was something you had deprived yourself of for the entire week.

“Hey.” You heard a quiet voice pipe up from the other side of the threshold. You looked down to see Max in front of you, a sympathetic smile on her face and bags under her eyes. Steve and the rest of The Party were in his car in the driveway, and you lifted a hand in some sort of weak welcoming gesture. You had never been worse for wear until now, and there was some part of your that wanted to apologize about your appearance.

“Hey, Kid. How are you?” You asked, wrapping your arms around yourself and leaning weakly against the doorframe.

“I’m alright. Mom hasn’t stopped crying and Neil is a ticking time bomb. I told Steve about him, so he’s been really good about keeping me out of the house. I’m just worried about mom, honestly. How are you? I mean, that’s a dumb question.”

You felt the corner of your mouth lift against your will and you shook your head. “No, it’s okay. I’m better than I was earlier in the week— now I’m just sad.”

“So you’re not punching holes in your closet door anymore?” She jested, trying her hardest to lighten your mood.

“I put a frame around it, so now it’s a new art installation. People are lining around the block to check it out.” You played along and finally took notice of the box she had in her hands. You pointed your chin towards it and furrowed your brows. “What’s all that?”

“Oh, um—“ She began and shifted from one foot to another. “I managed to sneak into Billy’s room before Neil got in there and threw everything out. He wants the room to be his office now. Anyways, it’s just a box of clothes that you liked and some pictures that he left behind. Figured that you’d want it more than a dumpster.”

You blinked rapidly down at the box when she offered it to you. This was all Billy had left you and wherever he was he would have no idea you had some of his stuff to do with what you will. You tucked your unbrushed hair behind your ear and took it from her grasp. She almost immediately began walking back towards the car.

“I’ll see you later?” She asked. You only nodded and offered her a pathetic smile before you closed the door and put the box on the table in front of your television. You sat in front of it for a while, your elbows resting on your knees and your mouth pressed into your fists. This was all Billy had decided to leave you and there was some sort of bittersweet energy flowing from it.

Taking such a big breath that you could feel your lungs stretch, you shifted forward and began organizing what Max had given you. There were three band shirts that still smelled like him, you had stolen them to wear them after nights spent together. You’d tuck the front of the shirt int he front of your jeans and the fabric was always loose around your body no matter what your body shape was.

It was the first warm day of the year, sometime in March, when Billy shook you awake. He had stayed the night, as both of your parents were working the night at the station and you had slept together for the first time last night. The window was open, and when you opened your eyes, Billy was looking back at you (butt naked) with a half finished cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. You buried your face back into the pillow, and you felt the mattress shift before you felt him begin to trace featherlight patterns on your bare back. His hands brushed over your skin from the nape of your neck to the rise of your butt and back up your spine once more.

“Good morning,” He grumbled, his morning voice not allowing him to have much expression behind it.

“G’morning” Your voice was muffled by the pillow underneath you.

“It’s time to get up, Princess.” You only groaned in response, burying yourself impossibly deeper into the bed. He patted your butt lightly and bent over to kiss you, extinguishing the cig on your bedside table. “I’ll be waiting in the car with a coffee and toast. You got ten minutes, Baby.” He had left the room soon after.

You rolled over and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, remembering last night and kicking your legs in unadulterated excitement. He had done it. With you. And it was absolutely wonderful.

It only took you three minutes to get ready, as you didn’t want to put too much effort into your looks today. The energy you had felt had been left in the sheets last night, and the thing that had taken its place was a lusty soreness. A soreness that was welcome, but soreness all the same. You closed the front door behind you, kissing Lucy goodbye and locking the door. You rushed down the driveway to where Billy was parked on the side of the road and you opened the door, taking the toast and coffee he had given you after you buckled yourself up.

“What’re you wearing?” He asked. He pulled out into the road and he was guiding the steering wheel with a barely-there grip. You looked down at yourself and smirked at the black cuffed jeans and the Metallica band shirt he had left on your floor. It smelled like him, and it was something that motivated you to even get out of bed this morning. You had a denim jacket covering you because while it was the warmest day this year so far, it wasn’t actually warm.

“I figured after last night, it would be alright for me to wear your dirty laundry.” You took a sip from your travel mug.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that right?”

“Why’s that?”

“Because when my clothes are on you all I wanna do it take them off.”

You laughed loudly and he smiled back at you, wiggling his eyebrows happily at you. “You’re insatiable, Hargrove.”

“Only for you, Baby Girl.” He hummed, resting his hand on your upper thigh. Yeah, you’d be wearing his clothes more often.

There were a few of his favourite books underneath the shirts which had his shitty writing crammed into the margins that kept the record of symbolism and his thoughts. There were some blurbs he had written at the end of the book that had smudged ink— from tears, you assumed. The facade he kept up at school was never who he actually was— the first time you had seen him cry over a book was the first time you had told him you loved him. He refused to talk to you for three whole days until you finally cornered him at the end of the day.

“What the fuck is your problem, William.” You whisper-yelled as you pushed him against his locker. You shot his posse a dirty look until they left you to deal with your idiot of a boyfriend.

“I don’t know what you're talking about, Y/L/N.”

“Oh? Last name basis again? Real mature. And you know exactly what I’m talking about. You can’t ghost me! You’re my boyfriend, and I’m your girlfriend and we are no longer individuals. We’re a unit, you idiot!” You growled, punching his shoulder lightly. He looked down at you and he rolled his eyes. He was nervous now, and you noticed this by the way he traced his fingers together, writing his name or your name or whatever was on his mind.

“I was supposed to be first.” He mumbled, kicking the toe of his combat boots against your chucks. You squinted at him in confusion, encouraging him to elaborate. “Like, the dude is supposed to say it first, you know? The girls not supposed to do it first— especially when the dud is crying.” He mumbled and stared at his feet.

You let out a loud laugh and stepped closer to him. He looked at you in surprise and he opened his mouth to argue before you cut him off by peppering his face with kisses. He laughed and tried to push you away half-heartedly.

“Hey! I’m serious!” He laughed. You pulled yourself closer to him by the collar of his leather jacket.

“You’re an idiot, William Alexander Hargrove and I love you with my whole heart.”

“I love you, more Baby Girl.”

There was a small smile when you had placed the book down beside you on the couch. You continued digging through the box and you pulled out a small photo album specifically made for Polaroids. Only one or two people other than yourself andMax knew that Billy loved film. He loved film almost more than you and the first time Billy realized Jonathan existed it was because they had run into another in the photography development room. That’s how you had met him, honestly. Jonathan and Billy had become close during their sessions in the Red Room (billy though the Red Room sounded ‘real cool, babe’), and one day Billy had shown up to the Byers household an hour early to pick up Max just so that they could compare films.

Steve, Nancy, Jonathan and yourself were circled around the small kitchen table drinking beers slowly and playing round after round of crazy eights. The kids were somewhere in the woods in the back of the house, and there was a constant stream between walkie-talkies just to be safe. The kids were acting out a campaign of Dungeons and dragons somewhere near Castle Byers, and the Byers family dog was with them for good measure (Lucas also had his Wrist Rocket). Steve had gotten up from his spot to get beers for the group when the bell rang three times, one time, and twice. You excused yourself to get the door, as Nancy and Jonathan were both significantly inebriated. You opened the squeaky door to find none other than Billy Hargrove staring back at you.

“Um, Guys?” You shouted behind you, voice quivering in fear. You had been there when Billy had lost it on Steve and Lucas, and he would have lost it on you if Max hadn’t stabbed him in the neck with the sedative. The rest of the group rounded the corner and Steve were immediately pushing you behind him protectively. Nancy was immediately searching for the baseball bat that was hidden around the corner and Billy had raised his hands in submission. The only one who wasn’t about to lose their shit was Jonathan.

The stepped forward, and took Billy’s hand in his own and shook it. He pulled Billy into the house, offered him a beer (he shyly accepted) and the two sat down with their films and spoke like they had been best friends since they were born.

To say the three of you were confused would have been an aggressive understatement. The definitions of opposites attract were sitting in front of you and Steve had rubbed his eyes to try to wake himself up from the nightmare he was living.

“What the fuck is going on?” He whispered.

“I don’t know.” You and Nancy had answered simultaneously.

It took three more beers for Steve to even sit with Billy in the same room, but once he had, the whole group seemed to relax. You had been passing around photographs and polaroids and complimenting both of the boys on their keen eye for beautiful details. Your breath catches, however, when you had been handed one of Billy’s photos. It wasn’t a creepy picture, it was quite adorable, actually. It was a picture of your Great Dane, Lucy. Her paws were on the white fence that surrounded your house and she had her dopey grin on her face. Her ears were facing Billy in a joyful curiosity and her tail had just become a blur in the background.

“Billy, would you mind if I kept this one?” You asked. His gaze shot towards yours and he squinted at the picture in your hands. He shrugged when he saw it, and smirked.

“You a dog person?”

“This is my dog, Lucy.” You laughed, looking back down at it and brushing your thumb over her happy expression.

“She was a cute model. I gave her a chance of my sandwich for that one. I walk by your house every day, and every day she’s there.” He remarked happily.

“So you’re the reason why she’s gained a few pounds this year?” You kicked his thigh playfully and he shoved your foot away from him. An hour went by quickly, and The Party crashed through the back door loudly, stomping and shouting gleefully at each other. The commotion stopped, however, when they saw who the older grow was ‘breaking bread’ with. Lucas was the first one to break the silence, stepping in front of Max and the rest of his friends. Mike had pulled both Will and Jane behind him, and Dustin looked at Steve asking for answers with his shocked expression.

“What the fuck is going on?” Lucas glared. He had his Wrist Rocket in his hand and it was spinning in his hand ominously.

“Lucas, language.” Steve bit back.

“No! What is he doing here?! He attacked me! He almost killed you!” He raised his voice and ignored when it cracked nervously.

“Yeah, he did. But we’re being adults now.” Nancy piped up from her spot snuggled into Jonathan’s side. You and Billy looked at each other, and you made a move to stand up. You put the picture into your bag and grabbed your keys. Billy stood, understanding that he was no longer welcome and jerked his head for Max to get into the car. She obeyed, hugging Lucas and Jane before running out of the house and to the iconic Blue Camaro. You motioned for Mike, Jane, and Nancy to get ready to go and waited for them outside on the porch as they said their goodbyes. Soon, you were greeted by Billy who offered you a cigarette and lit it for you when you accepted. You hadn’t said anything to each other, and when you opened your mouth to thank him for the picture, everybody poured from the front door.

When you were about to get into your car, you were stopped by Billy calling your name.

“Did you know that dog owners tend to look like their dogs?”

“Excuse you?”

“You have a cute dog, Y/L/N”

You were nearing the end of the box, only a few CD’s and mixtures left when a small object caught your eye. Your heart dropped into your stomach as you reached down to the bottom of it, your fingers wrapping around a tiny, velvet box. You were shaking now, tears spilling from your eyes and trailing down your face. You didn’t wipe them away, however, because your body was entirely frozen in your place. Lucy had heard your broken sob when you opened it and had come rushing to your side, nudging your arm until you had wrapped your arm around her neck.

A diamond ring. He had bought you a diamond ring before he left. There was a note inside, reading the words; ‘After Graduation?”. It was after graduation, now and you were finding out he was going to propose by rooting through a box he had left behind.

The dickhead.

You threw the box across the room, knocking over a glass and sending it shattering on the ground. You began dry heaving through your sadness and grief, crawling across the room to the mess and picking the ring out of the box that lay among the broken glass.

You slid it on your left ring finger and sobbed.

Billy Hargrove was found dead in his home the day after he graduated. He had gotten into a fight with his dad and had been knocked one too many times in the head, developing a concussion. He fell asleep later that night, not knowing his condition and died in his sleep due to a brain bleed Neil Hargrove had given him. You were the first one Max told later that day, and you had punched your closet wall— angry at God for taking away the one thing that was good in your life. Steve came over that night, tears unshed but welling up the entire day. Since Billy had come over that night, the two boys had reached a truce and they had become the yin to each other's yang— brothers on and off the basketball court. He told her that Max hadn’t slept since he had died, not being able to drown out the screams of Susan, and the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and muffled groans followed by doors slamming and cars skidding out of the driveway. Jonathan had stopped taking pictures as well, according to the boy who was laying on your floor next to you. He felt as if all of the pretty things had left when his best friend died, and had been emotionally stumped since, yelling at Nancy that ‘no, he didn’t need to see a therapist!’. You let out a bitter sob when Steve had told you that the Harrington and Hopper families were paying for the expenses of the funeral as the Hargrove family (it was just Neil now, you guessed) wanted no financial loss. You took a large sip of the Russian Vodka Nancy had given you last year and didn’t stop drinking in the days leading to the funeral

The life had been taken out of Hawkins, Indiana the day Billy Hargrove died.

You stood at the front of the church now, looking over at the rows and rows of empty pews and your heart sank at the tiny audience that had attended his funeral. The audience consisted of the Hoppers, the Byers kids, the rest of the Party, Nancy and the Hargrove-Mayfields. You wanted to storm into the school where you had attended and you wanted to shake everyone who said they were his friend. If they were his friends, they would have shown up.

“Billy Hargrove was my One Great Love. His future was saturated with happiness, and with hope, and with a family of his own. He would have been the first to have a flying car, he always said, because he would have been the one to invent it. He was a smart man, he was a kind man,” you said, your voice quaking with anger, and sadness, and confusion. “He was one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, and the day he died, life left earth. His life was ended too soon, and whoever took his life away from him, deserves the harshest judgment thrust unto them.” Your eyes locked with those of Neil’s. “The person who did this deserves not to die, but deserves to live with the guilt of taking my soulmate from me, and depriving the world of the magic that was Billy Hargrove.”

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forr-everrmorre · 7 years

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Anastasia - October 14, 2017 Matinee

I just got back from Anastasia and I’m still internally screaming despite it ending like 4 hours ago. here’s my detailed explanation description. (and I mean very, VERY detailed. a lot of it is under a cut bc I get into super spoilery territory)

Zach was on as Dimitry, and Ian and Kristen were on for Zach and Molly respectively. ZACH. DIMITRY.

before anyone asks, I didn’t record an audio. I got so caught up in the moment I forgot lol whoops.

honest to god, even before the curtain went up I was crying when I heard the opening notes of the Prologue.

NICOLE IS SO ADORABLE

during Last Dance Of The Romanovs, the suitor dancing with Kristen didn't lift her properly and right after they looked at each other and he was like "whoops"

the death of the Romanovs actually scared me like they made it terrifying with the window shattering effects and the red EVERYTHING

Lily can actually be seen comforting the Dowager Empress after Last Dance Of The Romanovs

yes, I internally screamed when Ramin came on. don't judge me.

Gleb so confidently says his opening Leningrad monologue, then Dimitry just comes in and roasts the hell out of him

when Dimitry says "Hail our brave new land", he's mockingly waving his arms around while right behind him Gleb is doing the exact same thing and honestly same.

right after that, Gleb like goes up to Dimitry and he legit RUNS OFF STAGE IN FEAR OMFG

during the part where everyone is like saying something good about Leningrad then saying something snarky, Gleb’s face is like "see, great place waIT WHAT"

after singing his verse in A Rumor In St Petersburg, Vlad immediately hits Dimtry with his hat

everyone's so happy during Rumor, but at the end right before the final shhhh, Gleb just gets on the podium and everyone just does the shhhhhh in fear

before moving on, I would like to mention that I love Kristen Smith Davis, Sissy Bell and Shina Ann Morris.

Dimitry is HIDING BEHIND A COUCH WHEN ANYA COMES INTO THE THEATER IM

Vlad's also hiding and it scares Anya when he comes out

now’s a good time to mention that when a song is starting, the projection usually gets like a subtle change in hue and it’s really cool

Gleb does this like intimidating version of the chin thing (tm) that basically LIFTS one of the fake actresses, then he like lightly blows on one of them and they all run away

Anya throws/hits with a book Dimity and Vlad at least 3 times in Learn To Do It

When Vlad makes them dance, at first Dimitry takes these GIANT UNGRACEFUL STEPS AND ITS HILARIOUS

the background changed from winter to spring once it seems that Anya's finally confident in her ability

Gleb's like shouting in his office until he turns and sees who Anya is and his voice just softens in like two seconds

you can tell that even when Gleb is trying to be funny and personable, he's still a stiff military man

THE CHIN THING (TM) WAS SHORTER THAN PROMISED SMH RAMIN

there's one part during the last verse where Anya harmonizes with Gleb, but it's so subtle that you probably can't tell from a recording

when Gleb says “it’s the silence after I remember most”, not only is it dead silent, there’s also the sound of wind in the background

James Pierce quickly became one of my favorite ensemble members just from how he acts drunk before My Petersburg

Dimitry gets like a potato or something from the street rats' fire and gives it to Anya before My Petersburg

ANYA SAVES DIMITRY AT ONE POINT DURING THE FIGHT SCENE

when Zach was climbing the bench for My Petersburg while the turntable was spinning, you could tell he was having a little bit of trouble and it was adorable

(he also had trouble taking the second can of beans out of his bag during Rumor btw)

also ZACH KILLED IT IN MY PETERSBURG

THE LIGHTING DESIGN IN ONCE UPON A DECEMBER GIVES ME LIFE

they project the phantom images of the Romanovs dancing on the walls of the side of the theater. you probably can't see it from the orchestra seats tho

Dimitry lifts Anya A LOT

I knew from the recording that a lot of the actors were fantastic singers, but live, so many of them are STELLAR. Christy, Ramin, and Constantine in particular imo are so much better live.

btw Stay I Pray You gave me chills. that song really lets the ensemble shine. literally. half the song, Christy, John and Zach were just standing there not singing while the ensemble KILLED IT.

Anya and Dimitry leave the train compartment by the time Vlad starts singing We'll Go From There, so he’s basically monologuing the entire time

after Vlad says "I'll bow as if I'm still a frisky young pup" HIS BACK CRACKS

when Dimitry's doing that thing where he's half standing on a bench, half leaning on the train, the ladies on the bench just look at him as if he's crazy the entire time

the way that them jumping off the train transitions into Traveling Sequence was SO COOL

THE STAGING FOR STILL WAS SO

ITS PROBABLY ONE OF MY FAVORITE SONGS PRODUCTION WISE DESPITE HOW SIMPLE IT WAS

so like Gleb's standing off to the side from Traveling Sequence and he starts singing and it's all dark and stuff

around when he reaches "a son becomes a man at his father's knee", a soldier gives him his jacket. then around "I am nothing but a man with nothing but his orders to fulfill", another soldier gives him his train tickets. but then around "until your heart replies", another one gives him a gun.

at the end of it, there's like 4 vague shadowy soldier figures behind him, and he turns around and all of them salute before the lights fade.

Journey To The Past gave me chills. that's all I'm saying.

I never liked Paris Holds The Key that much, but the freaking choreography CERTAINLY made up for it. hands down my favorite choreo the entire show

before Dimitry's lil solo in Paris Holds The Key, it looks like he's about to ask Anya to dance, but someone else grabs her hand before he can. I’m nope

the projection and lighting design makes it look like the end of Paris takes place on the top of the Eiffel Tower and I am so down with that

again, Christy is FANTASTIC live

honestly, Dowager Empress sounds so broken during Close The Door and I am so not ok

Little Anastasia appears behind the windows during Close The Door and I am so not ok

at the end of the number, the Dowager Empress makes a picture she has of Anastasia face down on the table and I AM SO NOT OK

when the doorman of The Neva Club tells Gleb where to get food HE JUST LOOKS SO OFFENDED LIKE “TF WHO DO YOU THINK I AM”

the choreography of Land Of Yesterday is some goOD STUFF M8

theres a good 5 seconds Lily spends shooing Count Leopold away while she’s dancing

after the instrumental break, everyone except Lily is passed out and the lighting makes it look like morning, which is why she stomps her foot and says “the night’s young”

Vlad just sneaks up and is awkwardly facing outwards in the circle dance thing at the end of Land Of Yesterday

honestly The Countess and The Common Man is a blessing and it’s hilarious

right after they say “when you sent me our sign”, they show what it was (it’s like a super subtle hand gesture). they do it at least 2 more times in the show.

during the instrumental break, they’re both just dancing like crazy and the panting at the end involves them stretching, having cracked backs, and Vlad timing his pulse

the kiss after “until you’re kissed” is SO LONG and they do weird stuff during it, I’m just,,,, nope,,,,,

they kiss like 4 more times before Land Of Yesterday Reprise btw

Gleb watches their last kiss and his face just says “what the hell are you people doing”

also freaKIN LAND OF YESTERDAY REPRISE MAN. RAMIN IS SCARY GOOD AT THIS ROLE.

A Nightmare is actually so chilling like I can’t

it does the same thing with the lighting as Once Upon A December where Anya’s the only one properly lit and everyone else looks like ghosts but just everyone being crowded around Anya instead of gracefully dancing around her seriously sets the tone

ASKDJFLGKD IN A CROWD OF THOUSANDS B Y E

THE BLOCKING IS SO SIMPLE BUT EFFECTIVE

ANYA LEANS IN ON DIMITRY WHEN SHE STARTS SINGING

I SWEAR THEY GET THIS FREAKIN CLOSE TO KISSING AT THE END BEFORE DIMITRY DOES THE “YOUR HIGHNESS” THING AND I AM DEFINITELY NOT OK

Vlad’s being alone during Meant To Be makes it super powerful

also, HELLO QUARTET AT THE BALLET

THE WAY THAT EACH OF THEM STAND UP AND FACE THE CROWD WHILE SINGING MADE IT REALLY FEEL LIKE WE WERE SEEING INTO THEIR THOUGHTS

Gleb like almost pulls out his gun like 3 times I stg

Gleb is also the only person who doesn’t applaud at the end of the ballet. he’s also the only guy not wearing a tux at the ballet. (he basically wears the same outfit the entirety of Act 2 until the Finale) they really make it very clear how out of place he is in Paris.

also the ballet itself was AMAZING. Lyrica, Kyle and James were hella good

I swear I was as stressed out as Dimitry was during Everything To Win and I knew what was gonna happen

right before Once Upon A December reprise, there’s the scene where the Dowager Empress comes into Vlad, Dimitry and Anya’s dressing room and like???? it had some gold comedic timing but was also super serious????? how???????

also Dimitry watching Anya and the Dowager Empress being reunited just breaks my heart??????????

that line in The Press Conference where the guy’s like “we do exclusive interviews”, he legit pays off Vlad to start talking and they like talk off to the side until Lily gets everyone’s attention

there’s a phone on either side of the stage during that scene and the sopranos who do that harmony at “the Princess Anastasia” use them almost as microphones and I’m in love?????

GET. ROASTED. COUNT. LEOPOLD.

during Everything To Win Reprise, Gleb is very clearly closing all the doors behind Anya but like Anya never notices until she turns around

also, when she turns around, it does the song transition as perfectly as it happens in the soundtrack and it’s gr9

idk if it was just this performance, but Gleb sounded a lot more somber and conflicted during the dialogue of Still/The Neva Flows Reprise, but then when the singing starts again, he was honestly terrifying, like Anya was legit backing into a corner

this was something I noticed from the bootlegs, but I’m pretty sure no matter what angle you view it from, Young Anastasia is blocked by the archway during Still/The Neva Flows Reprise while you can very clearly see the rest of the Romanovs. idk I just always found that to be an interesting choice

at the end of Still/The Neva Flows Reprise, GLEB ALMOST PULLS THE TRIGGER ON HIMSELF AND DEAR LORD GLEB THAT GOT DARK FAST

listen,,, every time Dimitry has lifted Anya before,,,,,, she like let out a little squeal of surprise,,, except after they kiss,,,,,,,,,, she’s just staring into his eyes the entire time,,,,,,,,,,,, can y’all believe they invented love,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

the Finale was just beautiful ok

especially when the singing starts again and then the Romanovs come on stage around Anya and Dimitry

all around this show was just beautiful and amazing and I cried multiple times

also Zach totally got the loudest applause (I’m pretty sure it was louder than Christy’s tbh) and yes I live for understudy/ensemble appreciation

BONUS ROUND: STAGE DOOR AFTER

Kevin was actually the first person to leave, and a few people recognized him but he just waved and left

NICOLE IS SO SMALL AND ADORABLE

apparently Christy just restocked the candy. time to put Creepy Anya above the candy box again.

John was such a nice dude

Caroline was so bubbly and happy the entire time I love her

BUT CHRISTY FREAKIN ALTOMARE

she took the time to talk to any fan who had something to say to her

like she spent like 5 minutes talking to the people next to me since they apparently all went to the high school she graduated from

and when I talked to her, I told her about how much the soundtrack and Royal Misfits helps me get through the really rough days and and she game me a hug and I’m

not

also Zach came out and everyone was like “DUDE YOU WERE AWESOME AS DIMITRY” and tbh big mood

anyways. thats it from me about Anastasia. except probably not. catch me two weeks later just randomly posting something I loved about the show because it was r e a l l y f r e a k i n g o o d.

#anastasia #anastasia the musical #anastasia broadway #christy altomare #zach adkins #John Bolton #ramin karimloo #caroline o'connor #mary beth peil #grand duchess anastasia nikolaevna romanov #dimitry #vlad popov #gleb vaganov #lily malevsky-malevich #dowager empress #meet the royal mess #hey i made this post wow #btw the large part is broken up so it's easier to read bc no one liked giant walls of text

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ktrsss1fics · 7 years

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Passionfruit.

There is a saying that says, “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

In order for something to happen in Vegas, Georgina Ferguson needed to get to Las Vegas. She should have been getting ready for brunch with the girls but she wasn’t. She was currently stuck in a window seat on an overcrowded Delta plane at LAX. They had been stuck at the gate for the past forty-five minutes. She was on her way to meet her friends to celebrate Mags’ birthday and to watch Niall perform at the iHeartRadio festival.

At that very moment, she regretted her decision to book the flight. Her original plan was to drive out after work Friday night. She could have slept on the floor in Brittany’s room and enjoyed an extra night out with her friends. The universe had other plans for her. Georgina didn’t get out of the office until half past eight. By the time she finished packing, she’d be driving through the desert in the dead of the night. Too many dangerous hypotheticals had filled her brain so she decided against it.

Since arriving back from Aruba, she tried to be more of an active participant in her social life. She tried to not let work consume her. She spent a few nights a week bouncing between the homes of her friends. Most of those nights were filled with food and laughter. On the nights she wasn’t trying to change her friends’ perception of her, Georgina was sat in a theater room with a bottle of wine and a curious puppy.

Niall’s adoption of Scout had been beneficial to the entire group. They had something to occupy their time while he was gone. Scout took day trips with Britt and Dave, stayed the weekends with Mags and Jamie, and spent the rest of her time at Georgina’s flat. The little chocolate lab was a constant reminder of their Irish best friend. Everyone tried to spend as much time with her as possible.

When the plane finally was up in the air, Georgina used her time to mentally prepare for the weekend. Her itinerary included a little bit of gambling, some fun by the pool, and a good amount of alcohol. She had no issues with those plans. She had actually been looking forward to them all week.

There was one thing that she was worried about.

It was going to be the first time she’s seen Niall since he left.

They texted every day and FaceTimed when he could but things were different. She’d get to see him in the flesh for the first time in a month and she was nervous about it.

She was nervous that things were going to be different. She was nervous that him being away would change where things were headed. She was nervous that he had found someone new.

She knew it was her insecurities poisoning her mind. She hadn’t been in this phase of a relationship in a very long time. The last time she had a serious crush on someone was when she was thirteen. The last time she wanted to get to know someone better she still had posters of Take That on her walls. She felt like the rusted Tin Man in the forest and Dorothy hadn’t found her yet.

By the time she came out of her thoughts, the plane was ready to make its final descent. She hadn’t realized how quick the flight had been. She made a mental checklist of what she needed to do as soon as she got off the plane. When she headed to baggage claim, she turned her cell phone back on. A flurry of notifications flew across the screen. There were a few messages from work and a voicemail from her mother. The rest of the notifications were from her friends giving her a hard time for being late. She watched a series of videos on Snapchat of Niall and the boys giving her a lecture. Hearing his laugh, seeing his face, and realizing in a short few hours she’d be able to be in his presence made her nerves start to fade.

Her luggage came around the conveyor belt quicker than she anticipated. She was in the middle of setting up a ride on Lyft when the llama luggage tag her brother gifted her last Christmas caught her eye. As she went to grab her bag, a text message came in. Apparently, there was a car waiting to pick her up. She was so surprised by the gesture that she didn’t pick her bag up in time. She took a deep breath as she waited for it to come around again. She needed to get it together.

With her luggage in hand, she made her way towards the exit. A dark haired man, waiting by a black town car, held a sign with her name on it. Niall always thought of everything. The man was from Texas and reminded of her father’s brother. He made a few jokes as they fought through airport traffic. She sent the girls a message letting them know she was on her way.

Jenna’s aunt had helped the group get a block of rooms at a discounted rate at the Cosmopolitan. From the pictures that were sent, the rooms were nicer than all of their homes combined. It was going to be a good time.

As the car turned onto Tropicana, a wave of electricity shot through her body.

She made it.

She was in Las Vegas and she was ready for whatever the weekend had in store.

As soon as she got to the hotel, Georgina checked in and headed straight to her room. She wanted to change out of her flight clothes and into something more comfortable before she saw her friends. She pulled out two birthday cards from her carry-on bag. The one for Mags was filled out within a few seconds. She gushed about their friendship and how much she appreciated the older sister influence Mags brought to her life. The second card was left blank.

She didn’t know what she wanted to say -- not yet at least.

She grabbed one of the wrapped gifts from her luggage and her purse before leaving the room. Almost instantly, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She had put a ban on all work business for the weekend. When Debra’s name appeared on the screen, she knew that ban was a good idea. She hit ignore as someone catcalled her from down the hall. She looked up to find Jamie standing with a smug look his face and a bucket of ice in his hand.

“Does your lady know you’re catcalling other women?” Georgina asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Ehh, she won’t mind it.” He smiled as he waited for her to catch up.

Georgina picked up her pace until she met him. They shared a brief embrace before falling in stride with one another.

“You fly the plane here yourself, Ferguson?” He teased as they stopped in front of a room.

“Feels like it.” She sighed.

“You just missed Ni.” Jamie said trying to get his room key out of his wallet. “He had to go do soundcheck or an interview or something official.”

Georgina took the ice bucket trying to help, “Oh. How was brunch?”

“Bit overpriced if you ask me.” He shrugged. “But it was nice. Right now we are trying to make a plan. The um girls were thinking about going to the pool. The lads and I were going to start drinking. You are welcome to join either group.”

“Good to know.” She smiled. “How’s she doing?”

“Countdown to thirty has already started.” He said shaking his head.

“Is she mad I missed brunch?” Georgina asked slightly worried.

Jamie looked surprised. “No way. She totally understands. She had a meltdown Wednesday night because she didn’t think she’d get everything done on Thursday. Work comes first.”

“I feel so guilty.” She sighed. “I’ve been doing good lately. I just don’t want you guys to go back to disliking me because I work all the time.”

“Fergie, you need to cut yourself some slack. You’re doing your best and it shows. No one hates you.” He said stroking her back gently. “No one ever has.”

“But in Aruba…” She started to say but stopped when he turned to open the door.

“That was Keith being a twat.” Jamie shook his head. “We might give you shit but it’s because we love ya.”

Georgina faked a smile stepping inside the room, “If you say so James.”

“Who’s there?” Brittany’s distinct voice called out as she leaned towards the door. “Hey babe!”

“Fergie!” Mags squealed as she stepped out of the bathroom.

The two women pulled each other into a tight embrace.

“I’m so sorry I missed it.” She whispered in the older girl’s ear.

“Hush! You’re alright love.” Mags squeezed her a little tighter. “Didn’t miss much.”

“First rounds on me tonight, yeah?” Georgina said as she pulled away.

“Not gonna argue with that.” Mags winked before motioning towards the bar. “Help yourself.”

“Thanks.” She smiled before handing over the gift. “Happy Birthday!”

While Mags read her card, Georgina walked around the room greeting the rest of her friends. Brittany had gotten up to refill her drink. She filled up an extra flute of champagne and handed it to her best friend. Georgina placed a kiss on her as a sign of gratitude.

“Flight from hell?” Brittany asked with a laugh.

“You have no idea.” Georgina said taking a small sip from her glass.

“Did ya have a fucking layover in Wolvo or what?” Dave teased bringing over a container of orange juice for the blonde to add to her drink.

She put out her glass for him to fill. “It feels like it.”

“What took so long?” He asked topping it off.

Georgina tapped her glass against his as a thank you.

“Apparently, planes need fuel to fly.” She said dryly.

“You don’t say.” He replied in a faux posh accent.

“Shocking, I know.” She replied mimicking his tone.

“Ferguson, I love you!” Mags called from the room caressing a bottle of sherry.

“Love you too, Sister Mary Margaret.” Georgina teased making everyone in the room laugh.

“Who wants Bristol Cream?” Mags called out opening the bottle.

Brittany got up and headed across the room to fill up another cup.

Georgina felt Dave move closer to her. He raised his drink to cover his mouth but she couldn't understand what he was trying to say. He scanned the room. No one would notice if they slipped out onto the balcony.

Dave nodded towards the door and made his way outside. Georgina followed behind him. Once outside, she sat down on the chair in the corner. Her eyes trailed off to the sun soaked Strip as he sat down beside her.

Dave sipped on his beer slowly. Georgina took her eyes off the road and focused on him.

“What's up?” She asked nudging his leg.

“He's nervous.” He said keeping his eyes on the street.

It took a moment for Georgina to realize who he was referring to. Once she did, she didn't know how to respond.

“He's like really nervous.” He repeated.

“I would be too.” She stated deciding to play it cool. “I mean two performances in one day and all those people to sing too.”

“No babe. He's not nervous about that.” Dave said turning his attention to her. “He's done all that before. He’s used to playing massive crowds. He's nervous because he's going to be performing for you.”

She tried her best to fight off the blush that wanted so badly to form. “What?”

“You haven't seen him solo yet. He's worried he's not going to impress you.” Dave smiled.

“How do you know that?” She asked shyly.

“Told me during our cuddle this morning.” Dave said placing a hand on her leg.

Georgina’s face lit up. “Your what?”

“Britt went to Jenna’s room to help her with her hair so we just had a little cuddle and talked about the day.” Dave explained. “He just mentioned he was a bit worried that you wouldn't like it. You're the last one of the group to see him perform.”

She couldn't help but smile. Niall Horan was probably the sweetest boy she'd ever met. He always wanted to please his friends. He was such a perfectionist. If one of them wasn't pleased with something, he would try his best to fix it. He wanted them to like his music and so far he had succeeded.

Dave squeezed her leg, “Are you two together?”

She shook her head finishing off her glass. His straightforward approach took her by surprise.

“Really? He's more smitten than usual.” Dave said surprised. “I figured maybe you came to your senses.”

“We’re just friends.” She said glancing up at him.

Dave nodded. “Oh.”

“But like not like before. Like actual friends.” Georgina admitted softly.

“So you aren't being a dick to him anymore, that's good to know.” He teased making her blush. “That's probably why he's a lot happier.”

“He uh cares a lot. I couldn't do that to him.” She admitted. “I mean he's Marcus but he's not Marcus, ya know?”

Dave looked confused before it hit him. “Fuck. He's Marcus.”

She nodded slowly. “That's why I hated him.”

“But he's like top shelf Marcus,” Dave replied. “Like top shelf top class non-cheating Marcus.”

“So basically he’s not Marcus. He’s Niall.” She laughed making him smile.

“Yeah. Niall’s Niall.” Dave said.

“The reason I was looking for him that day was because I felt bad for being mean to him.” She explained. “Our last dinner in Aruba made me realize everyone thinks I'm a bitch so I've been trying to fix it.”

Dave rolled his eyes. “Fuck Keith. His opinion doesn't matter.”

“Yeah well it put things into perspective.” She sighed. “So when I couldn't find him, I thought he left for Ireland already and I had been mean to him so I wanted to fix things.”

“And you fixed them. Kid still thinks you shit rainbows and butterflies.” Dave teased.

Georgina shoved him playfully. “Fuck off.”

He leaned in close and lowered his voice. “I didn't tell Britt and I won't tell her about this either.”

“Why not?” She asked watching him finish off his drink.

He shrugged. “Like keeping secrets with you.”

“Just like primary school.” Georgina said patting his leg. “Never did tell Britt you had a crush on her.”

“No but fucking Sophie did.” He grumbled.

“Can't say anything around the women in that family unless you want everyone to know it.” Georgina said as the balcony door opened.

“You convince her to make out with Ni, yet?” Mags asked with a smirk.

Dave’s eyes lit up as he scanned between the two women. “What?”

“Nothing!” They sang in unison.

He narrowed his eyes at them. “Don’t believe ya. I’ll be keepin’ my eyes on you two today.”

Mags rolled her eyes dramatically. “Wastin’ your time love.”

“It’s girl talk.” Georgina said patting his leg. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Fergie Ferg, we are going shopping at Caesars.” Mags said. “Wanna come?”

“Sure.” She smiled as she stood up.

“Georgina, if you want to make out with him, he’d let you.” Dave said patting her leg as she walked past him.

Mags and the rest of the girls started laughing loudly. Heat rushed to Georgina’s cheeks.

“Oh fuck off, all of ya.” She rolled her eyes as she headed inside.

The best thing about Las Vegas is the mentality that rules don't matter. What happens there, stays there. The possibilities are endless. A person can openly drink a cocktail, smoke a cigarette and gamble all while waiting for their morning breakfast. Naked women are sprawled across the streets of the Strip while men from Australia strip for bachelorette parties full of intoxicated women. Buffets of surf, turf, and everything in between are accessible twenty-four hours a day. Alcohol is served in bowls, pyramids, and even the Eiffel Tower. It's every wild child’s paradise.

Georgina was trying her best to live up to that wild child persona. So far she had won fifty dollars playing roulette, bought a Celine Dion shirt for her mother, and watched Mags spend too much money on a pair of shoes. She even splurged on some Taco Bell on the way to the arena where the concert was being held. She was already enjoying this trip a lot more than the last time she was in Sin City -- and she hadn't even seen Niall yet.

She felt good and that in itself felt good.

She currently stood beside Jenna in an overcrowded line at a concession stand. Britt and Mags were right behind them. The boys had sent them on a beer run. They were only a few songs away from when Niall was due on stage and the boys wanted to do a celebratory toast in his honor.

Georgina couldn't deny that she was a bit nervous. The fear of the unknown was always something she struggled with. Being that this was the first time she'd get to see Niall by himself, she didn't know what to expect. She knew he was a great performer. But he wasn't going to have those four moving parts around him and that was a scary thought. The rest of their friends had already seen him perform on more than one occasion. They made it to Wango Tango, they caravanned down to see him in San Diego, they made the trip out to be at Summertime Ball, and they scheduled their life around the LA date of his current tour.

She couldn't do that. Her job wouldn't allow it.

She fit a tinge of guilt when she thought about watching him sing. It had nearly been a year since he released his first solo single and she hadn't taken the time to see him sing it live. She knew that he understood. Her work schedule was hard to plan around. But there was something inside her that made her feel like a terrible friend for waiting so long.

That's part of the reason why she needed to get her hand on a pint before he came on stage. She needed something to calm her nerves.

By the time the girls got back to their seats, Ryan Seacrest took the stage to amp up the crowd before announcing who the next act was. As soon as Ireland left his lips, it was pretty obvious who it was going to be.

A boisterous chant began as the lights went out. High pitched squeals and mind-numbing screams filled the air. The lights went out. A drum beat started to play as Georgina held her breath.

This was it. The moment she was waiting for.

By the time the rest of the band kicked in, a spotlight shone brightly on center stage. A charismatic boy from the midlands of Ireland stood with a guitar and a beaming smile on his face. As soon as the first note left his lips, Georgina and the group of women standing in front of her were done for. They had perfect reason to be. His voice sounded even better in person.

Two songs in, Georgina almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Niall Horan was the ultimate performer. The way he moved around the stage and interacted with the audience was electric. His dedication to his craft was admirable. Everyone in the stadium could tell that he genuinely loved what he was doing. He had grown so much since she’d seen him last. He wasn’t just the fourth member of a boy band. He was a confident (and incredibly sexy) independent artist with a story to tell. She watched the group of women in front of her melt over the boy who was so drunk at Jamie’s 30th that he sang a potted plant to sleep.

His set was short but the songs he chose were memorable.With one song left, Niall rested an arm on his mic stand while taking a sip from a bottle of water. The cameraman focused in on his face. A mischievous glint shone in his eye. That look was infamous amongst the group -- especially was booze was involved. Georgina didn’t know what was about to happen but she knew it was going to be good.

Niall grabbed the mic off the stand and put the bottle on the floor. “Oi Vegas!”

The crowd cheered in response.

“Mr. Cameraman, can you put the camera on the spot that we discussed earlier?” He asked with a smile.

Georgina watched as the camera scanned the crowd. It wasn’t long until her face was being projected across the jumbo screen. Brittany and Dave erupted into laughter.

“Oh look it’s Fergie! Hey Ferg.” Niall cheered into the mic.

Her eyes went wide as all eyes focused on her. She raised her pint in front of her face trying to hide but it didn’t work. Niall’s infamous laugh erupted loudly through the sound system. Georgina shook her head. She could feel her entire body getting warm from the attention.

“Why ya – why ya shakin’ your head at me? Is it the attention? Am I embarassin’ ya?” He asked with a cheeky grin. “If any of you want to know any facts about flowers, Fergie’s your girl.”

Georgina casually flipped him off making the rest of her friends laugh. The group of women in front of her were quick to shoot dirty looks in her direction but she didn’t care. Niall was proving that things were going to be fine between them.

The smile on Niall’s face grew even bigger. “Fat Tuesday later?”

Wolf whistles escaped the lips of Jamie and Dave causing Georgina’s skin to grow pink.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He winked. He cleared his throat. “Anyways, we have to go over one more person. Op! There were go. Ladies and gentlemen, this is my friend Mags.”

Maggie dramatically took a bow making him laugh.

“Today is her twenty-ninth birthday.” He said making the crowd scream.

“You see the handsome devil on her left? That’s her fella Jamie.” Niall explained. “When the last song I’m gonna play tonight first came out, he was obsessed with it.”

“What is he doing?” Mags asked not knowing what was going on.

“Sang it in the shower, at the gym, on his way to work.” Niall laughed looking directly at his friend. “He sang it so much that little Miss Mags banned him from singin’ it.”

He jutted out his hip and started to mimic Mags’ accent. “If you aren’t Niall, you aren’t singin’ it.”

His entire group of friends keeled over in laughter. His impression was spot on.

“Anyways, if it’s alright with Miss Margaret, the last song of the night will be a little tune called ‘This Town’.” Niall said with a smile. “Is that alright with the Birthday Girl?”

The small brunette sent a double thumbs up towards the stage. The crowd cheered happily.

With a nod of his head, Niall placed the mic back on his stand as his drummer counted him in. The folky song about falling in love in a small town engrossed the audience. Brittany linked her arm around Georgina’s as a soft sing-along took form.

Jamie started off the song in perfect sync with Niall. By the time chorus came around for a second time, his singing stopped. No one really noticed though. No one saw him pull a box out of his pocket and get down on one knee. Mags gave him a confused look as he tugged on her hand. He started to speak but the sounds of the crowd made it hard to hear.

He realized his plan wasn’t working so he put a new one into place. This caught the eye of everyone around them. Tears formed in the eyes of Georgina and Brittany as they saw what was happening. Jamie opened the box to reveal a large diamond ring.

Without a second thought, Mags agreed. Jamie stood up and pulled her into his arms. A sweet embrace was shared between the newly engaged couple as the song came to an end. Niall peered into the crowd looking for his friends. Before thanking everyone for watching his play, he called out Jamie’s name hoping for good news. The cameraman panned the crowd until their group appeared once. Mags held up her hand showing off the ring that had just been put on. With a large smile on his face, Niall let out a small cheer before hopping off stage.

The lights went out and everyone prepared for the next performer to come on stage. Jenna worked her way over to the other girls. She pulled them into a group hug. Congratulatory kisses were placed across Mags’ face as her ring was inspected. They couldn’t believe what just happened. Their friends were engaged and the entire world got to see it.

Before the next performer went on, Georgina and the gang headed back to the hotel. They grabbed a few boxed meals from Taco Bell and a couple bottles of alcohol on their way up to Jamie and Mags’ room. A feast fit for a frat house commenced as they waited for Niall to join.

“Jim Jam, you take a loan out for that rock?” Georgina asked taking a sip of her mixed drink.

“I know Daddy Warbucks.” Jenna joked patting his back.

“Very funny.” Jamie rolled his eyes. “It was six months of overtime actually.”

“It’s stunning.” Brittany said grabbing Mags’ hand. “Absolutely stunning.”

“Way to put the pressure on mate.” Dave said. “We’ve got to compete with an entire planet.”

“Size shouldn’t matter.” Georgina said.

“We’ll uh let Ni know you think that.” Mags winked making the other girls laugh.

Heat rushed to Georgina’s cheeks as the boys started to join in on the teasing.

“I mean we aren’t sayin’ that’s an issue with him but uh it’s nice to know, right?” Keith said.

“Why do you guys always get naked together?” Brittany rolled her eyes.

Dave shook his head. “What we do by ourselves is none of your business.”

“You are all idiots.” Georgina said as a knock came to the door.

“Yeah yeah but you love us.” Jamie said as he left to answer it.

Standing with two magnum bottles of champagne and an excited look on his face was the group’s favorite Irishman.

“Nialler!” Brittany and Jenna cheered as he stepped inside.

Mags made her way towards him. “You are a little shit Niall Horan.”

“You loved every second of it..” Niall said with arms wide open.

“You’re right.” She whispered pulling him in for a hug. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

“Congratulations babe.” He said placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Let’s get those bottles opened.” Keith said getting plastic cups ready.

Niall handed the bottles over before going around the room saying hello and thanking his friends for coming to see him play. With a half eaten taco in her hand, Georgina watched Niall joke around with Dave. He looked happy -- like genuinely happy -- and that made her happy.

He casually slipped away from Dave and made his way towards her. She put down her food and stood up from her spot on the couch. The light in his baby blue eyes grew a little brighter as he saw the smile on her face. He opened his mouth to thank her for coming but she stopped him.

“You’re a little shit Horan.” Georgina said shaking her head.

Niall just laughed before pulling her into his arms. She sighed as he held her close.

He whispered in her ear, “Have I fucking missed you…”

“Can’t say the same.” She said as he tightened his grip on her.

Niall pulled his head away from her confused. “Why?”

Georgina stood back and hit him in the arm. “Four fucking people asked me for flower facts before we left!”

Niall giggled trying to defend himself from her. “Fergie! I’m sorry. I thought I was bein’ funny.”

“You do know a lot about flowers, G.” Brittany said eavesdropping.

“Yeah well that doesn’t mean the whole world needs to know.” She said shyly.

“Ferg, you bring those black heels for me?” Jenna asked from across the room.

Georgina turned her attention towards her friend. “Yeah have ‘em in me room.”

“I need them before we leave.” She said taking a sip of her champagne.

“What are we gonna do?” Jamie asked. “Like what’s the game plan?”

“First we are going to toast to the happy couple.” Dave said raising his cup in the air.

“Oi oi!” Niall said slinging an arm around Georgina’s shoulder.

“Out of all of us, we knew it’d be you two first. Congratulations to Jamie and Mags.” Brittany said as the rest of the group finished their drinks.

“Now that that’s taken care of, we need to get fucked up.” Dave said casually. “Only logical.”

“Why don’t the ladies get ready while us men head downstairs and pillage the tables?” Jamie suggested.

“Sounds good to me.” Mags nodded. “Ferg, did you bring your big curling iron?”

“Yeah in me room.” She said. “And Britt, I brought the lipstick you asked for.”

“Girls trip to Ferg’s room.” Jenna said heading for the door. “Bye boys.”

Georgina turned towards Niall. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Ni, you gonna come with us?” Dave asked as the rest of the girls made their way to the door.

“I need to get a quick shower in first. Kinda sweaty and need to calm down after all that.” Niall said. “But I’ll meet you down there when I’m done.”

“Sounds good. We’ll see ya there mate.” Jamie said. “You two change your shit and let’s go.”

The group headed their separate ways. The boys got dressed and headed down to have a few cigars at the bar. The girls made their way to Georgina’s room in search of things they needed to get ready. When she opened the door, a surprise was waiting for her.

Sitting on the dresser near the television was a gorgeous floral arrangement.

The group of women couldn’t believe it. These weren’t the run of the mill arrangements bought at the farmer’s market. These were top-dollar boutique flowers. Georgina had a feeling about who they came from but she didn’t want to get her hopes up.

“What the fuck?” Mags whispered. “Georgina! Who are they from?”

“There’s no note.” Georgina said smelling them.

“You’ve got a secret admirer, G.” Brittany nudged her.

“I wonder who they’re from.” Jenna said touching a few of the petals.

Georgina turned to look at her friends. “You guys did this. Didn’t you?”

Jenna, Mags, and Brittany looked at her confused.

“If this is you three sending these pretending to be Niall so I will make out with him, I swear to God I’m going to lose my shit.” Georgina said with a sigh.

Mags cackled loudly, “That would be fuckin’ brilliant.”

“If we were pretending to be The Baby, we’d leave a note.” Jenna said crossing her arms over her chest.

“And we wouldn’t spend this much money on ya.” Brittany winked.

Georgina rolled her eyes. “You three are such bitches sometimes.”

“We are only jokin’ babe. Bit of banter.” Mags said softly. “We love ya too much to be that cruel.”

Georgina’s cheeks grew a little warm. Maybe there were from Niall after all.

“Maybe there were for Mags and they got delivered to the wrong room.” Jenna suggested.

“Or it could be that new guy at work. What’s his name Ferg? Nasty Nate?” Brittany asked.

“Nathaniel?” Georgina said running a hand over the top of the arrangement. “I hope not.”

“What if it was Marcus?” Brittany teased.

“You can fuck right off Brittany Anne.” Georgina glared.

“I'm only joking. He wouldn't be able to afford anything this nice.” Brittany said heading towards Georgina’s luggage.

“Whoever sent it has good taste.” Jenna sighed.

“Why ya sighin?” Georgina asked stroking Jenna’s back lovingly.

“Just bein’ a jealous sad sap.” Jenna shrugged. “I think I need to get drunk.”

“That's our cue to get this show on the road.” Mags said linking her fingers with Jenna’s.

Brittany grabbed everything Georgina had brought for her friends. “Thanks for this babe.”

“Yeah no worries. Are we meeting back at Mags?” She asked heading for her bag.

Mags nodded. “Whenever you're ready.”

“Brilliant. See you then.” Georgina said as her friends headed back to their own rooms.

She barely got a shower in when a knock came to her door. With a toothbrush in her mouth and a towel on her head, she answered it. Standing in a button up shirt and a nice pair of nice jeans was a very tired looking Niall Horan. His hair was freshly tousled and his cologne was doing its best to reel her in.

“Sorry, your kind isn't allowed round these parts.” She said dryly.

“Why's that?” He asked shoving his hands in his pockets.

Georgina shrugged. “Don't really like your face.”

Niall rolled his eyes and walked past her. She headed back into the bathroom to finish brushing her teeth.

“Why aren't you going down with the boys?” She asked before splashing water on her face.

“Just wanted a few minutes to myself.” He called back from the other room.

“But you aren't --” She mumbled into the towel she was using to dry herself.

“You know what I mean Ferg.” He sighed.

“You spent too much time with them already.” She called back as she plugged in her hair dryer.

“Kinda. Just needed some time to regroup after all the chaos of today.” He explained.

“Understandable.” She said throwing her wet towel on the floor. “Not gonna be able to hear you for a bit so don't say anything important.”

“Won’t profess me undying love for you, don't worry.” He mumbled dryly.

Georgina rolled her eyes as she ran a comb through her hair.

He was such a little shit.

As he waited to spend some time with the one girl he’d been missing the most, Niall laid down on her bed and closed his eyes. It wasn’t even ten o'clock yet and the pop star wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. The past week was finally catching up to him -- the anticipation of seeing his friends, the excitement of performing in front of that large of a crowd, the travel, the night of drinking the night before. It was all too much for the twenty-four year old.

He needed a recharge but he knew it wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

They were in Vegas after all.

They were in Vegas. He really couldn’t believe it. He had been waiting for this day since he left for tour. They were finally reunited, even if it was for a night. Just knowing Fergie was going to be in the same vicinity as him boosted morale.

Georgina had unfortunately missed his show in LA. He knew she tried her best to be there but as usual her job got in the way. He was disappointed but there was a small part of him that was relieved. The amount of pressure he had put on himself to be perfect was ridiculous. The amount of pressure he put on himself to be perfect for Georgina was even worse.

He wanted her to like him. He wanted her to like his performance, his songs, his stage persona. She had always been a tough critic. Unlike their friends, she’d tell him the truth no matter how much it hurt. In the industry he was in, he needed those type of people in his life.

When he heard the dryer turn off, he knew he had two options. He could get up and be proactive about finding out her opinion or he could wait for her to come to him. He chose the latter.

“Ni?” Georgina called from the bathroom. “Do you know what clubs we are going to?”

“Omnia, I think.” He said trying to remember if the girls had said something earlier. “Maybe XS.”

“Hopefully not Hakkasan.” She said quietly.

The corners up his lips turned up into a smile. “Why not?”

“Niall Horan, you know the answer to that!” She exclaimed.

“Fergie, everyone’s forgot about that.” He laughed. “No one even saw you fall.”

“Clearly, that’s a lie!” She said stepping out of the bathroom.

“I know it is.” He laughed.”But I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Alright Mr. Life of the Party.” Georgina teased. She smiled at the sight she saw. He was curled up in a ball ready to fall asleep.

“You like the flowers? I did some research and did you know that striped carnations--” He started to say.

Georgina quickly interjected. “Mean I miss you.”

“Of course you knew that.” He mumbled shyly.

“Thanks for not including a card.” She said sitting beside him on the bed. “Sherlock, Watson, and Agatha were havin’ a field day trying to figure out who they were from.”

A deep belly laugh escaped his lips as he opened his eyes, “Really?”

Georgina nodded. “I tried to make them feel bad by saying they sent them as a way to convince me to make out with you.”

“Why is the thought of us making out such a horrible idea?” He asked softly.

She shook her head before laying down beside him. His arm immediately pulled her closer.

“Us making out isn’t the issue.” She whispered. “It’s doing it in front of them.”

“We’d get shit for days.” He sighed kissing her forehead. “I know baby girl, I know.”

Georgina sighed nuzzing into his neck. “Let’s take a nap.”

“You’re supposed to be the disciplined one.” He whined.

“We can take twenty minutes.” She yawned. “Then you need to leave and go be a lad.”

“I want to be the old man of the group.” Niall yawned in return closing his eyes.

“You can’t. You’re the baby.” She said. “Speaking of, I got you a gift. You want it now?”

“There isn’t enough time for a nap and a blow job, love.” He deadpanned.

“Fine.” She grumbled in mock annoyance.

He peered out of one eye, “Wait, are you being serious?”

“You rejected my offer so the world will never know.” She smirked.

Niall leaned forward and placed his lips to hers, “You’re a brat Ferguson.”

She didn’t say anything. She just leaned in a little closer and kissed him.

This was the kiss that they had been waiting for. The kiss that had been building since the day that he left. The kiss that savored good morning snaps and good night texts. The kiss that had been on his mind all morning. The kiss that she had been wanting to give the moment she saw his face.The kiss that sent a shock through his entire body and woke him up.

He snaked his hand through her hair holding onto the back of her neck. The slow and intimate kiss turned into a few quick pecks as his lower lip got caught between her teeth. He took this as a sign. In one fell swoop, Georgina was on her back and his body was rested on top of hers.

The sexual frustration that had built up was finally being released. His hand made its way down to her hip. He held on tight. He was going to appreciate every inch of her body while he got the chance. As his lips worked against hers, she arched her back pressing herself against him.

It happened quickly. Flesh was bitten, a few moans escaped, and as soon as she felt his hardened member press against her, she knew it was on. Her hands slid down his midsection heading for his belt. It wasn’t until she got it undone that he pulled away.

“Ferg.” He panted. “We-we can’t.”

Georgina sighed. “I know.”

Niall nudged her nose with his own. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She mumbled into his lips. “Was fun while it lasted.”

He peeled himself off of her and rolled onto his back. A deep rooted sigh left his lips.

She patted his stomach gently. “Night’s still young kid.”

“Yeah but Jamie is going to want to get obliterated.” He said as she rested her head on his chest. “And that means it’ll be a no-go.”

“Just ‘cause they are doesn’t mean you have to.” She said looking up at him.

“Right.” He said sarcastically. “Like that’ll work.”

“Well I’m not going to drink that much.” She declared.

“Like that’s going to work, love.” He tickled her playfully.

“Stop.” She giggled. “Niall! Stop.”

He interlocked her fingers with his.

“I’m just gonna blame it on work.” Niall decided. “Which isn’t lying. I can’t drink that much.”

“Don't forget you owe me a drink from Fat Tuesday.” Georgina whispered.

“I know.” He kissed her forehead. “Maybe two.”

“Ooh, someone’s doin’ well for ‘imself.” She quipped in a posh accent.

He blushed. “Fuck off Georgina.”

“Niall Horan, I will deny this if you ever bring it up in front of anyone but I’ve missed this.” She admitted looking up at him. “A lot.”

“Missed what?” He asked.

“This.” She motioned towards the two of them. “The banter. Hangin’ with ya. Us.”

“So really you just missed making fun of me? That’s real great Ferg.” He rolled his eyes.

Georgina nuzzled into his neck. “Can you please say that again in your whiny voice?”

Niall squeezed her hand gently. “I think I hear Davey callin’ me.”

“Hey! Don't go.” Georgina pouted. “I was only joking.”

“Stop being so cute. It’s gonna make leaving even worse.” He sighed.

“No.” She said fiddling with one of his fingers. “Not allowed to talk about that yet.”

“Well what do you want to talk about then?” He yawned.

“The fact that you’re a bloody magician.” She said softly.

“How so?” He asked confused.

“You can go from Mr. Chill Irish Man Child who’s all about golf and Guinness and making your friends drive all the way to your house because you don’t want to ever leave it...” She said dryly.

He just laughed at her backhanded compliment.

“...to Mr. Charismatic Musician on stage. It’s quite impressive.” Georgina admitted.

“Trust me it’s taken years of practice.” Niall said.

“Well it shows.” She said running her fingers around one of the buttons.

The room got quiet. Niall ran through different ways of asking the same question. He didn’t know how to approach it. Lucky for him, Georgina already had the answer he was looking for.

“So you know that I liked when you were in the band. Those guys were great -- especially Louis.” Georgina paused. “But I like you by yourself so much better.”

His skin grew warm. “Really?”

“Yeah, it just... fits you so much more.” She explained. “It’s so you.”

“Ye-yeah?” He stuttered before clearing his throat. “You think so?”

“You were worried for nothing. I was thoroughly impressed.” She whispered making his cheeks turn pink. “The song from Aruba is even better live, in case you were wondering.”

“Thank you.” He smiled. “That means a lot.”

The room grew quiet. Niall revelled in the fact that she actually enjoyed the show he put on. She liked his show. She liked his music. She liked him. That made all the pressure he had put on himself to be perfect worth it.

“So um what are you gonna do with those rugs when tours over?” She asked trying to be as casual as possible.

“Nice try, weirdo.” Niall laughed knowing where she was going.

“What the fuck? First it’s the chair in Aruba and now the rugs, why can’t you let me have nice things?” She whined playfully.

“If I let you have those things, then how will I get you to come over to my place? I know the chair is a prime selling point for all friend functions at my house.” He said softly.

“Hmm...you do have a point.” She said in a teasing tone.

“That's just plain rude.” Niall flicked her shoulder.

“You've got Scout and I've grown accustom to watching Project Runway in that theater of yours.” She said with a smile. “So I think you can give up the chair already.”

“Speaking of Scout, how's the ol’ girl?” Niall asked interested.

“She’s fabulous. She's spending the night at Keith’s. His roommate Phil is watching her.” Georgina explained. “She's really loving puppy school. Bit of a class clown -- just like Dad.”

“How are my other children?” He asked nervously.

“Everything but the bougainvillea is dead.” She said with a voice full of sorrow.

Niall wasn't buying it. He let got of her hand quickly, “You are shit at lying.”

“Fine.” She sighed. “They are all alive and accounted for.”

“Your mum was right about you.” He mumbled as he took a strand of her hair between his fingers.

“What was she right about?” She asked glaring at him.

“You're a major pain in the arse.” Niall explained.

“I don't like the fact that you hung out with my mum in London.” She said embarrassed. “It's not very fair -- you two ganging up on me ‘n that.”

“S’been four years of absolute shit from you. I needed to bring in reinforcements.” Niall said.

“She thinks you two are proper mates.” She looked up at him. “Every conversation after the London show has ended with ‘our boy Niall.’ She always has remind me to remind you to take your vitamins and get your rest. You might be young but sleep is important.”

“I love Mama Ferguson.” Niall smiled.

“She really appreciated you inviting her. As cringey as this might be, Slow Hands is her favorite song now.” She said shyly.

“A lot of the older ones like that song.” Niall blushed.

“Fit young boy singing about sex...hmm I wonder why they would like it.” She said dryly.

“Didn't ask for that sass, Ferg.” He mumbled.

Georgina sat up slowly, “My deepest apologies.”

His phone started to ring in his pocket. Georgina knew what it meant. She got up off the bed and headed for her bag. Niall answered the call and quietly talked to Dave about where to meet.

“I'll be down in five.” He said as he watched her walk towards him with a gift in her hand.

“Don’t read the card while I’m in the room. I was a little bit buzzed while I wrote it so I’m sorry if it doesn’t make any sense.” She blushed handing him his present.

“You know you didn’t have to get me anything.” Niall said holding onto the bag.

Georgina just rolled her eyes and motioned with her hand to open it.

His eyes lit up as he pulled out a massive book. It was an encyclopedia of every plant species in existence. He skimmed through it and couldn’t believe his eyes. Color photographs and paragraphs of information of plants from all around the globe covered the pages.

“It’s the latest version. I figured it’d be something fun to read on the road.” She said shyly.

“This is amazing Fergie.” He said glancing up at her.

“I saw it and thought of you.” She said tucking some hair behind her ear.

“I absolutely love it.” Niall said standing up. He kissed her. “I really, really do.”

“Good.” She smiled. “What’d Davey say?”

“They are going to go play a game of poker and they want me to join.” He sighed.

Georgina nodded. “I need to get ready anyways.”

“Want me to open this now?” He asked reaching for the card.

“Up to you.” She said before nodding towards the bathroom. “I’ll be in there.”

Niall sat back down on the bed as she walked into the bathroom. He slowly opened the orange envelope and pulled out a card. A birthday pun covered the front. As he read what she wrote on the inside, his eyes got a bit glassy. The words that she wrote were the words he needed to hear.

Niall always felt bad when he had to leave his friends for tour. But this time around was the first time he actually felt guilty for it. The day he left Los Angeles was probably one of the worst days he has ever had. The look on her face as he left her flat was etched in his memory. It always found a way to make an appearance on the nights he felt the most alone.

He felt so bad for leaving her. She was just discovering her feelings for him. She was finally allowing herself to open up and be vulnerable. She was finally letting him in and he just left. Niall didn’t want her to resent him for leaving. He didn’t need Fergie regretting her decision.

The words that she wrote made everything okay. He didn’t need to hold her hand through this. She was doing fine on her own.

He read the paragraph once more trying to soak up everything she had said. He deserved to be happy. He deserved to be touring the world doing something he loved. He didn’t need to worry because she was going to be there for him when he got home. This small sign of reassurance had refilled his tank and he knew the next couple months were going to be just fine.

He got off the bed and walked into the bathroom. She had a curling iron attached to her hair. Noticing his presence, she let the strand of hair fall. Turning towards him, she noticed his baby blue eyes were a bit shiny. Before she could ask what was wrong, the young man engulfed her in a hug. He didn’t say a single word. He just held her tight.

This was the hug she had needed since the day he left. The hug that told her everything was going to be alright. The hug that was more important than sex or making out or holding hands. The hug that meant they were going to make it through the next few months unscathed. The hug that showed how he really felt. The hug that was going to hold them together until they were reunited again.

“I know if this goes further, it’s not going to be easy.” He whispered in her ear. “My job, your job, our friends, the public… but just trust me when I say this... it’s going to be worth it.”

“I know.” She whispered back. “I’m ready for it.”

#1dff #niall horan fanfiction #pf #fergie and niall

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askthealaskan · 4 years

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OCT 16 2019

I woke up not knowing at first where I was. Boston. The answer came to me through a sleepy haze that only 4 hours of sleep brings. My plane was 2 hours late from my scheduled arrival at midnight and a ride to an affordable hotel an additional hour more. After a $50 cab ride I determined I needed a cheaper way back to the airport. So I asked the hotel, and checked with my phone, to find the best route. They both said catch the red train on the nearby MTA station. No problem I think to myself, Ill just catch a train. Twenty five minutes later a cab arrives. Is this guy the only cab in Boston I ask myself. It takes me awhile to realize I’m watching a species becoming extinct. Taxis are being “uberized.” I think to myself that I could be riding the last cab in Boston. We arrive safety to the station.

Ah the MTA. The station is humming and I feel like I’m back in a real city again. This must the MTA that Ive heard folk songs about the guy who never returned after getting on it.

I usually fly through these stations. I learned how in my backpacking years some 30 years ago before the internet was invented by Al Gore. Back then we had to carry guide books along to clue us into how each city’s system was set up. Still, we can have problems. My problem was since I was moving in, I was carrying all the luggage I was allowed by the airline to carry on the plane with me. I had two large bags each carrying just under the max weight level, and the two allowed hand carry bags. The killer was one of the hand carried items was small enough to qualify to fit as a hand carry, but it weighed as much as an anvil . I had devised a method of carry it all but it would take some organizing and a little time before initiating each stage of the trip.

There are two types of subway ticket gates in the world, one you grab the ticket back AFTER you pass through the gate and one when grab the ticket BEFORE you pass through the gate. Apparently in Boston its the later to the amusement of locals when out of towners try to pass through the gates with 4 bags at once without a ticket.

I refuse to be flustered I reorganize my luggage and instead adopt the New York attitude before I arrive at the platform. Im not sure what direction I need to go as a train pulls into the station. I quickly ask the guy next to me if the train is going toward South Station. I say it like Im going to “fire his ass” if he doesn’t give me an answer right now. It works and it is my train but not his. I scramble onboard with my bags in good order but take up two seats doing so. As the train gets closer to town the car fills up. Across from me the occupants watch me as I shift my bags around. They do it in the way big city people do - always avoiding direct eye contact but sneaking in glances when you seem to be not noticing. They are all women. One is black lady late 20’s and seems to be dressed for work someplace that requires uniforms. Next to her is a short older Vietnamese looking oriental woman sitting next to a young blonde white girl with a backpack. She soon reaches into her pack and grabs what looks like are lecture notes and is going over them with a high lighter ( do people still do that?) Standing next them is a young Japanese girl fashionably dressed with a handbag. She looks ready to do some serious damage to a credit card balance.

More and more get on the car and soon every seat is taken. As my train gets close to my station I begin to try to organize my burden in the only configuration that I have found that works. But that takes more time and space than a train stop allows. We arrive anyway and it is apparent I need help getting things off the train. The little Vietnamese lady speaks to me. Its obvious she doesn’t speak English but just as obvious she wants to help me. She offers to take one of the bags for me. I quickly evaluate my options and decide that I could probably catch her if she tried to take off with it. With her help Im able to get everything off the train. I start to thank her and retrieve my bag but she’s not done helping me. She takes off for the escalator looking back to see if I am following her. Nevermind that I had planned to use the elevator. I took off after her and up the escalator we went. When I reached the top she was just a little bit in front of me when I realized she was trying to take me to the airport train. She is thinking that’s where most people with luggage are going. I grab my bag and begin trying to communicate that to her while at the same time she is emphatically trying to explain in rapidly spoken Vietnamese that I needed to hurry. It becomes a bit of a scene and I hear a voice say “Can I help?” I turn around and a large nordic man with a beard looking like a New England Loster fisherman, however that’s supposed to look like, is standing there. It slows the Vietnamese Lady but doesn’t totally stop her. The fisherman explains to me where I need to go then hops on the train he was waiting for to come. The Vietnamese lady seems to have grasped my intended destination and takes me over to the elevator that I need to take me to the bus station. I thank her many times over and the door closes. Im free!

A friend recently told me I need to trust and let people help me. Today was reassurance that people are good and if you feel right about it, you should trust those instincts

Next its the three hour bus ride to Montpelier, the capital of Bernie Sanders land. I realize now that Boston is not the best place to fly into to get to where I’m going. Nothing really is. I booked the ticket, actually two because they limit bags to one per seat, before I left in case it sold out. No worries about that for this Wednesday departure . It appears this route is catered to students of Vermont University judging by the youthful faces hauling backpacks. A lady appears with a roster and checks for tickets. I fumble with pulling out my phone with the 12 digit ticket number. She grows impatient and waves me on board. It becomes apparent she has her own bus and is not the driver of this bus . The driver is beside her but he doesn’t speak. He has a scowling disposition that is clearly not suited for guest service. She’s obviously filling that role for him. I remember my days trying to recruit driver/guides to work the summers in Alaska. Very seldom did you find a candidate who could drive a 30 foot bus and have an engaging personality. My driver only mumbled stops. We took off for the three hour ride and it wasn’t until the bus arrived in Burlington that I should have gotten off a half an hour earlier at the park n ride. On the map It looked like the bus went right through MontPelier on the way to Burlington. Not so, it skirts the town. So I get off with the students and call my people at Country Camper. Its too late to pick up Morrison today so I tell them Ill catch the bus down in the morning. As I walk to a nearby hotel that wants to charge me a three figure price for a room, I pass by the transit station and see that there is a bus leaving for Montpelier in 20 minutes. I can get a cheaper room.So I haul my bags over to the bus stop trying not to look like the homeless person that I actually am. The bus driver pulls up and shakes his head at the load Ive got. He grudgingly allows me on the bus. He tells me that it wilI only be this one time. I assure him that it will never happen again. I pile my stuff in the front row of seats. The fare is $4 but I have no change. I show him a twenty Im about to put in the fare box. I tell him that since Im taking up four seats that I’ll pay for them. I try to explain that im a visitor and was not trying to disrupt his day. The next few stops he picks up regulars that catch his bus. We make the thirty minute drive over to Mountpelier and the bus empties most of its occupants at a park’n’ride. He ask me where Im getting off. I tell him Im not certain. He gets frustrated . I tell him im just trying to book a cheap hotel for the night and planned to get off where I could take a taxi to it. He says there is an Econolodge on his route and we head off. He takes right to the hotel and makes an unofficial stop in front of the hotel. He helps me to off load and wishes me well. The desk clerk who sees this comes down to help with the bags. I get to my room finaly and collapse.

People are basically good at heart and I am learning to accept their help.

In the morning Connor from Country Camper comes and picks me up. I have talked with many of the staff in the process of buying this rig. I know them by name, Conner, Dan, Thomas, Merwin, Krista. My arrival is highly anticipated, everyone wants to see the guy who came all the way from Alaska to buy the van. I try to explain that Alaska is far from anywhere else and if im going to fly it really makes no difference where Im going. The owner Lance pops out of his office to say hello and pretty soon I’ve drawn a crowd of curious employees and customers who want to see the Alaskan who came to Vermont to buy a camper van. When Im finally pulling out the staff has made their way outside to take pictures and wave goodbye. I have my Alaska License Plates on and looking good.

First stop is Walmart and Goodwill to get supplies. Lance has bought me a hotel room for the night. So I am staying I Downtown three blocks from the capitol. It reminds me of the Baranof hotel in the capital city I know so well. I don’t get back until 8pm and im starved. I try to google a close by place to eat. I head out but the place I chose cant be found. There is nothing else but this bistro. I enter and get seated. It becomes apparent that this place is out of my price range but im out of time. I order just the tomato soup. It was the best tomato soup I ever had.

The next day I drive out town with the goal of finding fall foliage. A storm hit the area and many leaves fell but the show was still good. I drive toward Green Mountain with the goal of generally heading toward Portland Maine. I follow my whims and that leads me to Darmouth before I turn to the north. I get tired so pull over on remote road and camp in my van for the first time. I have to admit I didn’t sleep well. The silence only accentuated the alien sounds that the coach makes. I ll get used to them.

In the morning I am up before the sun and outside early on the road. I see a spur road that the morning sun is lighting up nicely. I turn down it until I reach a good place to pull over and park. I take my camera and walk down the road and past some nice properties . I reach the end of the road when a car comes down the road with a yellow English lab sticking his head out of the window. The car stops and Im ready to explain myself and my intentions. No need to. Ive been approved by Blizzard Andy’s companion . Andy bounds from the car and offers to show me his property that I did not dare venture down without permission. He’s a carpenter and interested in my travel plans. I mention that I am looking for a builder for a piece of property that I own in Juneau. He is interested and we hit it off. Andy is in his mid thirties and unmarried. He hopes to build a house on his property one day. He was an extreme snowboarder on the circuit but one too many concussions ended his career. He gets around his home town of Romney New Hampshire and offered to take me around town. He takes me two a rock that has been split and craved by water. He waves at people he knows and they wave back. Its clear that he is well liked in the community. After touring and talking about everything from politics, travel, and even women we head for the ski resort in hopes of lunch and a possible ride up the lift for some potential great shots. Unfortunately the owners had closed the restaurant for a wedding. Back in town we went for lunch and Andy knows everyone. He introduces me and mentions my quest. They size me up like Im something the cat dragged in. Then Nick, the shop s owner, strides across the space between us to shake hands. Everyone else relaxes. Its clear that they are protective of Andy an want to be sure im not going to do him harm. But its clear by our banter that we share much already.

AFter lunch we visit Terry, a friend Andys my age who lives nearby. He is a graphic line artist and has a studio. When we arrive Terry is watching the last of a college football game featuring Terry’s alma mater Miami. We talk and Terry gets distracted from his game.It ends and we visit his studio. He teaches art at the local University and serves as the towns Bernie Sanders campaign chair. His wife pops her head into the room and Terry introduces me. She miles but then leaves without saying anything. Andy tells me she is battling Alhiemers disease. We don’t speak of it or of politics. We head out to his garage shop and Terry shoes me his work and how he makes his prints using plates. His work reminds me of a friend back home Evon Zerbets. After a while we leave but not after they share a bit of “Parkenson’s “ medication . Andy drops me off with Morrison . There is live folk music at the cafe that night but I regretfully decline the offer. In my younger days of trailing I would have been right there but “a man has to know his limitations” We say goodbye and exchange email . Hopefully Ii will see Andy again one day. In the morning I take afew shots down by the river that passes below Andy’s land then hit the road.

#AskTheAlaskan #morrison

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hotcocosharing · 7 years

Text

Second Chance Part 21 (IM RP)

Shunichiro Tachibana

Waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs; to the touch of fingers running across my chest, to my collarbones then lastly my bottom lip. It’s been far too long since I’ve had either and I open my eyes to see Midori smiling face with everything sorted and ready. She glows in the early morning light, the sun catching her slight wet curls and setting them aflame like a halo. If last night’s been a mistake, it’s forgotten for now as we share a small smile right before she quickly gets ready and disappears.

There’s a meeting that’s planned for weeks which I can’t postpone so after taking as long as I could in the shower to try and give myself more time to clear my head before I return to the office. Redialing the cab company to come pick me up and rearrange a time to take me to the airport, I’m soon preoccupied by last night’s emails, approvals confirmation from the Olympics committee plus another “intimidating” invitation from the governor. Deliberately ignoring the last one as my ride arrives on time and my morning runs out before I know it.

I groan a bit as I lift my carry-on luggage into the overhead compartment, even in business class, the luggage compartment seems dreadfully small. Eventually, with a satisfying click, it snaps shut. I release a long sigh and flop onto a window seat, shutting my eyes while the rest of the passengers settle down around me.

Free, at last.

Surrounded by strangers with no Internet or any kind of disruptions, the thoughts I’ve been pushing out of my head all morning has now crawled its way back in, Midroi’s smile and words are now on replay-

“You know Shunichiro – I never expected to fall for you nine years ago but I’m sure glad I did.”

During the two hours flight, I begin to doubt my actions and behavior lately. For sealing a deal with the devil and almost risking the Olympic campaign, starting a relationship isn’t so cut and dry with a subordinate, and ruining whatever maybe left between an ex girlfriend. What is it that I’m trying to achieve? And at what cost? The timing couldn’t have been worse as I try to figure out my feelings for two entirely opposite women, but I need to settle this, I have to. For the three of us.

9 years ago

I was just browsing, killing time on a weekend as I stared at the shelves filled with classics and literature aimlessly until a title caught my attention. “Men Without Women”, Across seven tales, Haruki Murakami brings his powers of observation to bear on the lives of men who, in their own ways, find themselves alone. At the age of twenty seven, women was never an issue or an priority but I was intrigued and picked it up to see a girl tip toeing the shelf that’s way too tall for her.

“Can I help you with something?” I asked, I didn’t believe in love at first sight but the flashes of brown hair and a shy smile had my mind blanked for a second. She wanted the book in my hand which nearly made me chuckle, why would a young girl like her wanted to read a series of short stories about men without women? For the first time in years, I wanted to know more about someone so I left my contact on the book, grinning at the thought that I no longer needed to read that book.

Present- 3 Days Later (Sunday)

There’s nothing feels like home- only mine is a house that’s forever empty with no one to welcome or talk to, I am alone and it hasn’t bothered me (in a long time). But today, I have never felt lonelier.

The image of Midori humming around the stove as she makes breakfast, her dance moves would amuse me, and Sachi’s embarrassed face first thing in the morning that puts a smile across my face.

They make me weak.

If I were such a smart and cunning scoundrel, why do I feel so conflicted? Sachi hasn’t replied any of my text unless it’s work related, she’s avoiding me and can’t say I don’t know why.

I should have been fair, cutting ties with the governor and his daughter sooner, stopping the rumor before it’d start. It’s my fault for putting her through unnecessary pressure.

And Midori, we have been chit chatting for days without mentioning the other night. Talking like we used to, nothing too serious or out of the ordinary. I close my eyes, trying to block the recent events from the past weeks out of my mind but all I see is her face.

All I can picture are her smiles, her tears and the fear of her slipping away within my fingertips. My chest tighten with …. something that I’m unfamiliar with, some kind of regret or guilt that I would have to live with.

I have to make this right!

Pulling my phone out and quickly send an address and time as I hurry out the door.

“7pm, The Kitazawa Bookstore, 2-5 Kanda Jimbocho. See you there.”

The place where it all began, where I found the love of my life, where I met Midori Katayani.

Midori Katayani

Three bottles of red wine equates to approximately 12 large glasses – that’s how much alcohol I’ve needed over the last 3 days to stop myself from going insane about work related issues; let alone personal. When I first started my own business, the idea of being one’s own boss seemed easy – like a slice of cake; but geez, even 3 years in and I feel absolutely helpless sometimes when it comes to the little things which always seem out of my control. I’m about to walk down to the cellar and help myself to another bottle when a new member of staff asks for my help with a cocktail she’s not familiar with mixing – just as she asks, my phone starts vibrating in my pocket, a customer who’s had a little too much to drink starts a ruckus at the bar and the power cuts out for a moment leaving everyone stranded in the dark.

It’s unlike me, yet I hold my breath with uncertainty and ask myself the question I almost always do when bad luck seems to come in three – why me? Grabbing a torch from behind the bar, I’m quick to make it to the fuse box and switch the lights back on; there’s a relieved sigh that escapes from almost everyone’s lips when they’re brought back into familiar surroundings of what they know. Drinks continue being ordered – security deals with the ‘I’ve had a little too much to drink’ patron I’d rather not and I’m about to teach someone how to make a Kamikaze when my phone vibrates again – alerting me that I haven’t checked it.

“Right now? Really?”, I murmur quietly whilst grinding my teeth, pulling my phone out. The irritated expression I’m wearing though is quickly erased when I see who the message is from.

[7pm, The Kitazawa Bookstore, 2-5 Kanda Jimbocho. See you there.]

My heart skips a beat when memories instantly flood back into my mind as my eyes re-read over the text to make sure it’s real. Kitazawa – I haven’t been there in years. Didn’t even know the place was still open. Checking my watch to see that it’s already 6.30, I bite my lip and figure that because I didn’t drive into work today to be there by 7 I’d have to leave asap. As much as I hate doing this, I call over a shift supervisor which I know is more than capable of instructing new staff on work place procedures – I wouldn’t have promoted them to the role if I didn’t think otherwise – and apologise for needing to leave so quickly.

It’s a quick dash now to my office to lock up before I head straight for the subway. Ughhh, I haven’t caught a peakhour train in months and had forgotten about the not so comfortable carriage rides. Sardined up against a young school couple who keep talking about breaking their curfew in order to spend a little more time together between kisses and a businessman who smells of beer and soba, I grin and bare it every time I’m forced to shuffle and move. It’s 20 minutes of pure torture when compared to how comfortable a my car or taxi would have been but I don’t have time to waste. Checking my watch again, I notice that it’s just hit 7 – great… for once I’m going to be the one that’s late.

Finally free from the train ride of hell, I manage to scramble out of the station and wander over in a slight rush to where I vaguely remember being the Kitazawa bookstore. Groaning as I read a sign which points in the direction of upstairs, I huff and puff not bothering to waste time and look for an elevator – my watch reads 7.10pm and I mentally scold myself although there’s nothing I can do. Pulling my phone out, I begin punching in Shunichiro’s number as I wander the aisles and take in the simplicity of bound printed texts around me. There’s something calm about being here – something safe – as if all these books could keep my secrets and thoughts within them and if anyone were to read them, I’d still be safe. I don’t even get two dial tones in before I’m walking straight to M aisle in the fiction section which I at first don’t realise.

Funny how some habits don’t change.

Hanging up as I spot Shun and don’t give him time to answer, I walk over quietly – about to apologise when I notice he has something in his hands and I grow curious instantly.

Men Without Women. Mhmm.

“Hate to break it to you Shunichiro but I’ve already read that one.”

My voice is ever so clear as I greet him; hiding the fact that I just wore myself out and felt like I’d endured a marathon. Not planning on saying anything if it’s not pointed out – I avoid bringing up the fact that I’m late.

There’s a smirk which dances across Shun’s lips which as teenage-ish as it sounds – cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye – is definitely my vice. Actually no, I take that back; he’s my vice whether or not he chooses to be.

“Fancy seeing you here”, he breaks the ice with a push in conversation, sliding the book back up onto the shelf; as I watch this, it occurs to me that I’m still too short to reach the top shelf and a giggle escapes me.

“I didn’t realize you were back in town”, I point out, folding my arms across my chest before scratching inside my elbow, “You know – you could give a girl a little more of a heads up before you force her to abandon work and meet you in a bookstore of all places.”

“I didn’t have time”, he explains casually as I feel his eyes trace over me and he rubs the back of his neck shyly. Shun – shy? No he can’t be – I’m definitely imagining things. Perhaps it’s a good thing that I didn’t get to that next bottle of wine. “..and we won’t either if we stand around here talking all day.”

I scoff at the fact that he makes it sound like he’s been waiting a lifetime for me to arrive. Taking my hand and walking me down an aisle of books I wish will never end, I pull on his sleeve to slow him down, curious to know what he has in mind.

“Hold up – just where do you think we’re going?” “Dinner.” “Dinner?” “Mhmm – 7.30 at Gabiaru, you know if we keep talking Midori we’ll be late like someone I know.”

I could already taste the delicious flavour of curry bursting in my mouth at the mere mention of the restaurants name. Gabiaru wasn’t a far walk; actually, I remember meeting up with Shun at the bookstore once years ago because I wasn’t sure of where it was with my directional skills being less than perfect, not wanting to get lost before our first date.

Tugging at his sleeve again as we were just about to start walking, I could feel a blush crawl across my cheeks as I tried desperately not to smile like a lunatic.

“Is this.. are we – hang on just.. bare with me – wait…”, I manage to blubber out uncontrollably, if it’s what I think this is, I wish I was better dressed for the occasion, “..is this a date?”

#voltage inc #voltage rp #voltage role play #irresistible mistakes shunichiro #irresistible mistakes rp #irresistible mistakes role play #Irresistible mistakes #irresitible mistakes #shunichiro tachibana #shunichiro x oc #IM Shunichiro

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generouslyteenagealpaca-blog · 6 years

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