i was at model rail scotland today and i got a triang M7!!
it has an opening smokebox door and a little light in the firebox!!
it literally cost. £20
absolute steal
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Llegaron los envíos de eBay!! Directo de Inglaterra y Dinamarca!!
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De la série Cascadeurs Gyro-Jet de Meccano Triang. Trouvaille chez Emmaus. Il manque le lanceur.
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I briefly lost my debit card and canceled it and sent for a new one.
I missed my chance to bid on an insanely cheap `1972 Triang-Hornby Scotsman and now I'm sad. :(
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three's a crowd, part ten (epilogue)
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten (epilogue)
summary: you hadn’t expected this. to fall in love. with not one girl, but two. you hadn’t expected to ruin their friendship. love triangle au.
pairing: jenna ortega x reader, emma myers x reader
word count: 920 words.
a/n: last part so it's bittersweet. thanks to all who read and came along for the journey :)))
The weekend feels like a blur.
You spend most of it in Jenna’s bed.
You call it making up for lost time. Jenna calls it making you cum so many times you lose count.
And then on Monday morning, when you walk onto set, your hand entwined with hers, everyone stares.
Georgie smiles so hard you’re a little worried his jaw might lock. Joy gives you a look like she’s been waiting for it this entire time. Hunter is a mix of judgment and approval, you’re not sure what wins out.
But Emma’s reaction is the one you’re most concerned about.
She’s talking with Johnna when you walk in, and if she sees the kiss you give Jenna before you part, she doesn’t react.
Your scenes are with her today. Sunday night had been a mix of anxiety, and Jenna, and some more anxiety. The last thing you want to do is upset Emma.
Even if she’d inadvertently given you her blessing.
But she doesn’t acknowledge it.
You run through your scenes, fine. Pretend you’re in love with her. Give her the doe eyes you now reserve for Jenna.
And when the director calls cut, you’re left biting your lips and staring at your hands, all confidence lost.
Jenna’s by the craft services table, talking to Hunter.
Emma drops down into her chair, checks her phone briefly, and then looks up at you.
“You left early on Friday.”
Weighted. Like she knows exactly where you were. Your cheeks flush red.
“Yeah…” You trail off, “I…. we….”
“It’s okay.” Says Emma, peering up at you, “We all know where you were. I mean, you made it pretty obvious.”
You swallow.
“I-”
“You don’t have to explain,” Continues Emma, “I’m happy for you.”
At this, you raise an eyebrow.
“Seriously.” Emma says, and she looks like she means it, “I’m not being underhanded or whatever. I’m happy for you.”
“Okay,” You say, not really sure what else to say, “Thanks.”
She pauses. And then looks up at you.
“I’m not jealous.” She says after a long moment.
At this you pause.
“Okay?”
She bites her lip. Puts her phone down.
“I thought I would be, but I’m not.” She continues. There’s something behind her eyes. Maybe relief. Maybe freedom.
You swallow. Lean in a little closer, so the crew can’t hear.
“I should apologize to you.” You say, but she cuts you off.
“You already did-”
“But I didn’t.” You insist, “Not really.”
Jenna’s watching, you can feel her gaze from a mile off. But right now, for a moment, your concern isn’t for her.
“I hid behind confusion because it was easy,” You confess. Your hands are a little sweaty. You don’t do well with this - with home truths. But she needs to hear it. You care about her still, “And it was wrong. I shouldn’t have led you on. And I’m sorry.”
Emma leans back in her seat.
“Everything that went down between us - whoever was right and wrong, it doesn’t matter,” You continue, “At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. You should just know that I’m sorry.”
She’s staring at you, gaze open. Like she doesn’t hold a grudge.
“It’s fine,” She says, “I’m happy. We’re both happy. You and I- I thought we would have been happy together, but I was wrong. You would always pine for someone else, and I would always pine for wanting to be first choice.”
You don’t know what to say to that, so you say nothing. Drop your shoulders in a silent shrug.
Emma’s eyes glint.
“I would offer for us to go on a double date,” She says, voice light, “But it might be a tad awkward.”
And that’s the end of it.
It’s easier than you expected.
You don’t know what you expected.
Things to be thrown. Hearts to be broken.
You don’t expect the acceptance. But you’ll take it, regardless.
Emma and Johnna head off, hands linked as you stare. You feel a pair of hands on your shoulders, grip too tight to be Jenna’s. And then you turn around to see Georgie.
“Nice.” Is all he says, a sly smile on his face, “Nice.”
“Shut up.” You murmur, but you’re too happy to be annoyed with him. Jenna’s smiling at you, across the room.
She’s beautiful. Everything you dreamed. Everything you ever wanted.
And she’s yours.
“Don’t mean to brag,” Georgie continues, as Jenna walks over, “But I was team-soulmate from the beginning.”
“Shut up.” You murmur, before she can hear.
She touches your arm. The look on her face suggests she wants more than a touch. But there’s company.
“Everything okay?” She asks, eyes questioning. You reassure her fears with a smile.
“Everything’s okay.”
She pauses. Bites her lip.
“Emma wants to grab coffee, tomorrow,” She says, and her voice betrays her excitement, “She says she wants to be friends again.”
“That’s great, baby.” You say, voice soft, and you mean it. It means you haven’t ruined everything.
It means they’re still friends, despite everything.
Before you can tell her so, Hunter is walking over, looking far more sober than you’ve ever seen him. He appraises your trio with eagle eyes. At first, you think he might say something. Might pull out his needle and pop your love bubble.
But then he smiles.
“Drinks, Friday night.” He says, peering over at you and Jenna, “PDA non-optional, please.”
Jenna laughs, and then looks your way.
“No promises,” She says, voice coy.
And then she kisses you.
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Chapter 1 - Dream a Little Dream of Me
Y/N has nightmares of a winged man haunting her dreams. When her dreams become reality, her world changes completely.
(1.3k)
The sound of wings rustling, knife slashing, and faded screams echo all around. The stink of metallic blood and rotting corpses burning my nose. I’m choking on the thick air, and it feels like my chest is caving in as my breathing gets shallower by the second. There's blood everywhere. My eyes widen as my gaze falls on the mangled corpses upon the forest floor, each one twisted and bent in ways that shouldn’t be possible. Rays of moonlight pours through the trees, dancing across their mangled remains like some twisted classical painting.
I sink to the damp forest floor. There’s no escape.
In the blink of an eye, a large ominous figure towers over my shaking form. His short dirty blonde hair and strong hands are covered in fresh blood splatter and pieces of sliced flesh. His striking eyes glow a dark red, reflecting the color of blood painting every surface. But what I truly could not take my eyes off of is his large white wings that block out the view of everything around it. His intimidating wingspan wraps around us like a dark feathery blanket, reminiscent of a night sky with no stars.
“I promise I will never let anyone hurt you, never let anyone come between us,” he says in a surprisingly soft voice. He flashes me a smile that’s intended to be comforting, but it comes out sick and twisted. He pulls me close and wraps his muscular arms around me, a low buzzing feeling humming between the two of us.
I can hear his heart beating in his chest, slow and steady, far too calm for a man that just slaughtered a dozen people with ease.
------------------------------------------------------------
I bolt up out of bed, nearly falling off completely, but I catch myself at the last second. A cold sweat clings to my skin and the worn-out sheets, my breath coming in heavy and ragged. It’s not the first time I’ve dreamed of the winged man, in fact it seems to be the only consistent thing in my hectic life as of lately, but waking from the dreams never seems to get easier, always a struggle to shake the sinking feeling.
It takes a few moments to remember where I am, the crappy motel room I rented for the night, not so different from the countless other run-down motels I’ve stayed in across the Midwest, all with the same stingy smell.
Obnoxious yellow floral wallpaper lines the wall, caked with dirt and God knows what else that’s been accumulating for years. Ceilings spotted with black mold and blotchy water stains. An outdated box television plays the local infomercial about some miracle cleaning product, but it all sounds muffled and far away. The digital alarm clock on the bed stand reads 2:00 AM flashing in big red bulky numbers.
Just a dream, I remind myself with a relieved sigh. I swing my feet out of bed, throwing on some jeans and my signature leather jacket, scuffed and torn in various places. I need some air. Just need to get out of here.
I recall the rundown bar I drove by just down the street. It’s a good way to kill some time. Plus, I could really use a drink right now. The bitter taste of alcohol is the only relief I get from these nightmares that torment me at night and haunt me during the day.
The cold air bites at my skin, but it’s surprisingly pleasant, grounding me back into reality and away from the painful dreams. It's the twelfth dream I’ve had this month and they only seem to be getting more intense, more real. They always end with the same winged figure. The same demonic, yet charming smile. No matter what I do, I just can’t seem to shake that haunting face.
Entering the bar, it’s nearly empty with a few patrons here and there. Most of them are older men wearing bulky leather jackets, a bit rough around the edges, perhaps a local biker gang. Some of them playing pool, others chatting about their glory days over a bottle of beer. The sound of the jukebox in the corner playing the best of eighties rock drowns out their conversations. It's apparent there’s not much of a buzz going on, unlike most bars at this hour.
The voices and music around me fades to background noise, it feels as if the rest of the world has disappeared, that I'm the only one left on this miserable planet.
I slide into a worn bar stool that’s certainly seen better days, taking off my worn leather jacket and placing it on the sticky wooden bar. I sigh and halfheartedly raise my hand to get the bartender's attention.
“What can I get you, hun?” A nice older lady asks, shining a glass behind the bar.
“Just a whiskey please. Jack Daniels if you got it,” I give her a weak smile, trying to blink the tiredness out of my eyes.
She nods and pours me a generous amount of light amber whiskey in a fancy glass, sliding it over to me.
I take a swig, the warm liquid slides down my throat with a pleasant burn, already giving me a sense of calm. These days, whiskey has been my best friend and I’m okay with that. People just disappoint you.
“Make it two.” A large figure takes the seat next to me.
My body stiffens. I recognize that voice from somewhere. I slowly turn to face him and see him staring back at me with those intense red eyes and intimidating wings that I’ve come to know all too well. My stomach drops. It's the man from my dreams. I freeze, my body going into fight or flight mode. In a matter of seconds, I decided to take my chances running. I leave my drink and jacket behind, making a beeline to the door, slamming it closed behind me, giving me any sort of advantage to get away.
He doesn’t follow, but that doesn’t stop me. I run and run and run until I physically can't anymore.
The streetlamps and apartment buildings around me turn into a blur and my head starts to feel dizzy. The world spins around me, clouding my vision. The cold air feels like it's burning my lungs as I struggle to gather oxygen. My legs feel like jello, ready to give out any second. I’ve lost track of how long I've been running, maybe minutes? Maybe hours? Everything in me is begging myself to keep running but I physically can’t force myself go on any further.
I tuck myself into an alley, leaning against the ragged brick wall that painfully digs into my back, yet it barely registers in my brain. My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest. I close my eyes and try to catch my breath.
God, please let this be another bad dream.
“I was going to pay for your drink, and you just ditch me like that? Rude.” The man scoffs.
My eyes shoot open to see the man from my dreams less than a foot away, arms crossed, looking nonchalant as ever. My blood turns cold.
How is that possible? He couldn't possibly have run that fast!
A knot twists in my stomach. Deep down I know. This man is not human, and he certainly does not have good intentions.
“L-leave me alone!” I try to sound brave, but my words come out a sloppy stutter. I hold my arm out in front of me, as if that will deter him in any way. Stupid. This intimidation tactic is clearly not working.
“Oh, don't be so dramatic Y/N.” He rolls his eyes, then presses a gentle finger to my forehead.
The world goes black.
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You know FSM damn well, ghost boy
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💞 Through Thin Walls 💞
🏘 A Tarlos Neighbor AU 🏘
Ship: Tarlos | Fandom: 911 Lone Star
Author: noxsoulmate | Podfic by: Juulna | Artist: kinkajou
Read and listen on ao3 | View the art on ao3
Chapters: 2/2 | Complete Word Count: 18197 | Rating: Explicit | Warnings/Tags: alternate universe - neighbors, first meetings, 5+1 things, podfic, podfic & podficced works, podfic length: 2-2.5 hours, dorks in love, two person love triangle, falling in love, getting to know each other, getting together, idiots in love, love at first sight, kinda, cliche firefighter rescue, fluff, fluff and smut
Podfic created by the amazing @juuls
Art made by the wonderful @a-kinkajou
Created for the @pod-together event
Based on a prompt by the lovely @actuallysara
Summary:
“Hey, so please don’t freak out–”
In the next moment, Carlos could hear a thud, followed by a curse, and he was pretty sure the guy had just hit his head somehow. Carlos winced in sympathy.
“Sorry! Sorry, it’s just your neighbor here.”
“Dude,” came the reply, the voice sounding rough, probably from all the crying. “Way to give a person a heart attack. Also, creepy much?”
“My apologies. The walls here are basically paper with some paint slapped on. So uhm… noises are somewhat muffled but… not really, I guess.”
~*~
3 times Carlos only heard his neighbor’s voice, 2 times TK lusted over a certain officer, +1 time it all melted together.
OR: A Tarlos Neighbor AU
🏘 Read and/or listen on ao3 🏘
💞 and please leave lots of love on the wonderful art on ao3 💞
I cannot thank my team enough 🥰 @juuls, @a-kinkajou, this was such a wonderful experience!! thank you so much for putting up with me, tolerating my rambles and my writer's block, agreeing to switch fics when I panicked, and always cheering me on - and of course for the AMAZING podfic and art respectively that you two created for this fic. I truly hope this will only be the first of many projects we will work on together 😘
Sneak peek and more art under the cut:
one
When the first sniffles came through the wall, Carlos was startled, turning in his bed where he was cocooned in his blankets, book in hand, and in the process of winding down. It was his first night home after a week straight of night shifts and it was his goal to quickly get back into a normal sleep rhythm, even though he wasn’t remotely tired.
The sniffling sound that very clearly came from the room adjacent to his didn’t help in that endeavor, setting all his senses on high alert right away.
As far as he knew, the apartment next to his had been empty for the last few months. Someone must’ve moved in during the week – which was entirely possible, seeing how Carlos hardly had any free minutes between his shifts, helping on the ranch for two days, and covering some extra shifts so Mitchell could visit her sick mom.
What little time he’d spent in his apartment, Carlos had been asleep. So yes, a new neighbor moving in without him noticing was actually quite possible.
That didn’t explain the sniffles though which by now had turned into sobs that hardly sounded muffled. And why would they? His neighbor probably didn’t realize just how thin these walls were. Carlos certainly hadn’t suspected it when he first moved in – but quickly found out the hard way. His neighbor until a few months ago certainly had a thing for loud women…
Contemplating what to do, Carlos tried to focus back on his book. It wasn’t his business why his new neighbor was sobbing so loudly. Or bawling his eyes out by the sound of it. Damn…
Putting the book back down, Carlos closed his eyes for a moment. Two parts of himself were at war right now. The polite side, reminding him that it was not his place, that it would probably be embarrassing for the man to find out that Carlos could hear him; that it wasn’t nice to snoop in other people’s privacy. And then there was his protector side, wanting to make sure the man was okay. It didn’t sound like he was in direct danger or crying because he had hurt himself. But the tears still sounded so full of pain.
In the end, it was his compassionate side that won out, and putting the book aside he turned further in bed and moved closer to the wall. Clearing his throat, he spoke just above his normal volume.
“Hey, so please don’t freak out–”
💞🏘 Continue on ao3 🏘💞
Noxy’s Tagging List:
@detective-giggles, @sgirl18, @firstprince-history-huh, @beautifulhigh, @rangergurlgleek1211, @shadesofdeviant, @actuallysara, @carlos-in-glasses, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @welcometololaland, @wtfuckevenknows, @lightningboltreader, @meditating-honey-badger, @just-inside-her, @alidravana, @morganaspendragonss, @bonheur-cafe, @heartstringsduet, @ravens-words, @lire-casander, @otter-love-asl, @ramblingdisaster73, @first-kanaphan, @xtltokio, @buckybarnesalways, @mangacat201, @catanisspicy, @lemonlyman-dotcom
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James when August pulled up
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My problem is that the HarveyxBrucexKhoa dynamic that I've really created in my head is not actually the three of them but rather Bruharvey and a Khoa who is a jealous and petty mf.
It's 100% Harvey reentering bruce's life in a much more permanent way and Knoa immediately being like 'who tf is this?? Bruce, you can do so much better. also. you dont get to leave this friendship for some stupid romance.' and thus he needs to prove that 1) there are people out there (khoa) who can be much better romantic and sexual partners than just some guy and 2) Khoa is actually the only life partner you can have. it's not up for discussion.
So you have
Harvey, who, after lots of therapy and a few decades of ups and downs with bruce, is confident that bruce will never leave him. And he's just giving khoa the side eye cuz this random guy that Bruce met in europe years ago is continuously and rudely interrupting their dramatic, bittersweet and romantic reunion that they've been building up to for DECADES
Khoa, who refuses to admit that he wants a qpr with bruce and is in a one-sided pissing contest with harvey
and bruce, who is happy to have both Harvey and Khoa back in his life but is a little weirded out because while yes, he and khoa did have a good fuck every once in a while, Khoa is getting a bit intense and Bruce is like 99.99% sure that their relationship wasn't like that but now that .01% of doubt is hitting him in the face real hard
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forgot to post here, but i got this lovely engine at my local antique fair yesterday!!
it’s a tri-ang ‘princess elizabeth’ from 1951, the oldest in my collection, and in lovely condition too!!
she’s missing her rear bogie, but i’ve ordered a set and when it arrives i can hopefully get some videos of her running to share with you all :D
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I don’t think Janet-from-HR, Harley & Ivy are in a love triangle. I think harlivy are deeply in love and Janet is there too, they guess. Harley read Ivy's letters wherein she admitted to sleeping with other women and neither of them considered it cheating in any form, and Harley’s smart. There’s no way she didn’t at least assume Janet and Ivy slept together (she calls her “side quest” for a reason), she just doesn’t care because she knows she’s the only woman Ivy will ever really love. Janet isn’t anywhere near as important to them as they are to each other—if Harley ever said or even insinuated to Ivy that she wants Janet out, she would be out in a second. Ivy wouldn’t even think about it. Janet knows that she’s basically a glorified pet that’s kept around to be useful and entertaining & can be discarded any moment, Ivy has at least once basically told her “I’m going, I don’t care if you come along or not.” Janet's the one that cares here, that’s down so horrifically bad she’s willing to put up with insane levels of disrespect for the gorgeous ecoterrorist that saved her life (and said ecoterrorist's girlfriend). I think they can grow to genuinely care about Janet past fleeting interest and baseline vaguely caring if she dies or not, but they are not there yet
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idk where "here" is, but you'd better leave....
("study" on hands, colours, and angular shapes. I have tried to post this several times, apologies if im accidentally flooding tags </3)
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am i am insane or is the rink o mania employee who gave them their roller skates wearing blue and yellow earrings?
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I think the main difference between Beyond Evil and The Devil Judge is that in beyond evil the psychosexual drama is neatly contained between the two leads, but in the devil judge? Everybody is eye fucking everybody. Its nuts
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three's a crowd, part two
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten (epilogue)
summary: you hadn’t expected this. to fall in love. with not one girl, but two. you hadn’t expected to ruin their friendship. love triangle au.
pairing: emma myers x reader, jenna ortega x reader
warnings: language.
word count: 2.1k
a/n: team emma or team jenna?? let me know :)))))
The morning after that night at the pool when the hangover sets in, you freak out.
The pool. The flickering lights. Jenna’s crush on Georgie. Emma’s lips on yours.
You should feel elated. Emma had kissed you. Instead, you feel... flat. Uncertain.
You stare down at your phone as you read Emma’s text.
had an amazing time last night.. Excited to see you again today 🙂 🙂
You bite your lip. Fingers hover over the keyboard, trying to think of a response. When it doesn’t come, you set your phone down. Groan. Let your mind wonder why you’re not as excited as you should be.
She’s gorgeous and she likes you. The kiss she’d given you had left you with butterflies. But there’s a tiny gnawing feeling at the pit of your stomach. You wished it had been Jenna.
Stop it, you scold yourself. She isn’t interested. She likes Georgie.
Georgie, god. Georgie with his stupid handsome face and his stupid attractive accent. They’d be a pretty couple. He’d like her back, of course he would. And then they’d get together and be stupidly in love. It’s only a matter of time. Crestfallen, you stare back at the text. Then you’re replying.
Excited to see you too ☺️☺️ had a great time last night.
-
Set that day is rough on everyone.
You’re filming with Hunter and Joy. Joy, miraculously, isn’t one ounce hungover, ever the professional. Hunter spends his time off camera with his head in a bucket, trying not to puke. You’re not far off, laying your head in your hands trying to quell your raging headache.
You barely notice as Emma sidles up to you, small smile on her lips.
“Hey.” She says, a little shy, “How are you feeling?”
“Better than him.” You jerk your head over to Hunter. He’s sitting in one of the cast chairs, looking a little green. Emma giggles.
“You know what they say about hangovers.” Emma says, biting her lip, “Best way to get through them is to keep drinking.”
You tilt your head up.
“Oh?” You say, “Why, you got some vodka on you?”
“No,” She says with a laugh, “But I was wondering if you wanted to go out dancing tonight. With me.”
She thinks for a moment, “Well, not just me. Jenna’s coming too. And Joy, maybe Georgie too. Hunter if he can stand.”
Your stomach coils and the thought of watching Georgie and Jenna dancing together.
“I don’t know…”
“Come on.” She presses, squeezes your hand. Your stomach flutters, “It’ll be fun. I’ll show you my moves.”
She’s staring at you, a little pleading. You swallow, ignore the lump in your throat.
“Fine.” You agree, “But just so you know I’m a terrible dancer.”
“Me too.” She affirms, “But that’s what makes it fun.”
-
The club is tiny. Packed to the brim with Romanian party-goers. Jenna sorts you all a small area in the corner, veers off with Georgie to buy the group drinks. You watch them at the bar, stare at the back of Georgie’s head as she touches his arm.
White hot jealousy coils through you. You take a long sip of your drink, try to shake it.
Emma’s beside you, looking so pretty in a tiny black dress. You try to focus on her.
“Should we dance?” She’s asking.
“Sure.” You say, a little half-hearted.
“We don’t have to.” She says, a little disappointment flickering behind her eyes.
“No, let’s dance.” You stand, hold out your hand.
You lead her to the dance floor, a pool of sweaty, writhing bodies. Dance for a bit, try to focus on the beat of the music and her warm hand in yours. Joy joins after a bit, and you find your gaze lingering back to the spot you’d left. Jenna’s sitting there all alone. You bite your lip.
“I’ll be right back.” You tell Emma. She nods, wraps her arms around Joy.
Then you fight your way back to where Jenna’s sitting.
“Hey.” You say as you sink down into the seat next to her, “Want to come dance?”
She shakes her head.
“I’m good.”
You shrug, take a sip of your Vodka Soda.
You look back into the crowd, scanning for Emma. She’s disappeared into the mesh of people. Instead, you spot Georgie.
He’s dancing with someone. Someone skinny and blonde and definitely not Jenna. She giggles as he wraps his arms around her waist. They dance a little more.
Idiot. You can’t help but think.
Then you realize Jenna’s looking too.
“I’m sorry.” You say. You sidle close to her, until your thighs are pressed together. “I know you liked him.”
Jenna stares at you, bemusement across her face.
“I don’t like Georgie.” She says.
Your eyebrows draw tight in confusion.
“What? But you said-“
You trail off, trying to think of exactly when Jenna had confirmed her crush on Georgie. She didn’t, you realize all at once.
“Oh. So who is it then? This person you like so much?”
Jenna says nothing. Watching, like she always does. You rack your brain, trying to think of the boys on set.
“It’s not- Hunter is it?” You say, sounding scandalized, “Because I think you’re barking up the wrong tree if you-“
“It’s not a boy.” She interjects.
That stops you in your tracks. You stare at her for a moment. Oh. And then there’s only one person it could be. Your heart sinks.
“It’s Emma. You like Emma.” Jealousy twists hot and fast in the pit of your stomach. The thought makes you want to throw up. It explains everything. Why Jenna had been so weird over the last week, so distant. Why she hadn’t wanted to tell you.
But then Jenna is shaking her head.
“It’s not Emma.”
Relief floods through you. Thank god.
“Then who-“ Your eyes go wide. You look over to her, grip her forearm.
“Oh.” You say, “It’s Joy!”
Jenna shakes her head.
“It’s not Joy.” She says, sounding a little exasperated.
Now you’re really confused. You tilt your head, trying to think.
“Christina Ricci?” Is your final, terrible guess.
Jenna sighs. The music is pumping so loud your ears are starting to ring. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Georgie lean in to kiss the girl he’s dancing with. A pang of guilt flashes through you at your unconscious vitriol to him.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” She says. Her voice is so soft you barely hear her over the music.
“Why not?”
“She doesn’t feel the same.”
You make a face. Roll your eyes.
“Impossible.” You tell her. “Have you told her?“
She’s doing that thing again. Staring, Speaking without words, like she wants you to tell what she’s thinking from her expression. She shakes her head.
“Then you need to tell her, dumbass.” You say. It’s your turn to look exasperated. You down the rest of your drink.
“You could get any girl in this room, you know that. Without even trying.”
“You think?” Voice dry. She’s humoring you. You can tell by her tone.
“You could, even if you don’t believe it.” You brush a rogue strand of hair out of her eyes. “You’re beautiful. Like the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”
She looks down at you. Her eyes lock on yours.
“Tell me who it is.” You press. “One word in her ear and I’ll have her falling into your arms.”
“Why do you want to know so bad?” She asks. She’s avoiding the question. You whine.
“Because I want you to be happy.” You say, “Because I care about you.”
She doesn’t say anything. Sips at her drink. You sigh. Drop your head to her shoulder.
“Fine.” You grumble. “Don’t tell me. You’re no fun.”
You entwine your fingers with hers. You can feel her pulse hammering gently against your palm. Your integration has made her nervous. You smooth your thumb over the back of her hand. The weight of her hand feels nice in your own. Your hands lock together perfectly.
“It’s you.”
She says it over the swell of the music. You blink, not sure you heard her correctly.
“What?”
“It’s you.”
You look over to her. She’s staring, brown eyes locked on yours. Gone is her guard, she’s open. Vulnerable.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
You’re silent a second too long. You can feel her gaze shift. The wall comes back up, as quick as it had come down. Her guard back up, protecting herself.
“I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Besides, god, you like Emma.”
She draws her hand back from yours. Immediately, you miss the warmth of her fingers entwined with your own. Your heart in your throat. She likes you.
“I- I like you too.” You say before you can stop yourself.
She pauses. Looks at you.
“Too? So you like her as well?”
“We’re just friends.” You say. It’s a lie, even you know that. Friends don’t have the kind of tension you have with Emma. You rephrase, “We’re just- hanging out.”
She looks at you, a little dubious.
You swallow.
“You could have told me. All this time and you never said anything.”
Jenna stares down at you. Her lip twitches.
“You had a thing going with Emma-“
“God, Jenna. We kissed once. We’re not married-”
She flinches at that.
“You kissed her?”
You stare back at her. “Yes, I kissed her. What do you think we’ve been doing this entire time, holding hands?”
“This is so fucked up.” Jenna mumbles. She downs the rest of her drink, drops it down on the table. “I can’t believe I just told you I liked you. You’re my friends girlfriend-”
“I’m not her girlfriend.” You interject.
“Forget I said anything.” She says, voice pleading, “Please. Let’s just go back to being friends. Let’s blame it on the tequila-”
“No.” You say, “Don’t do that.”
You're grasping at her hand, trying to pull her back down.
“YN.” She says. You can see the conflict in her eyes. “Emma really likes you.”
“More than you like me?” You’re holding your breath now. Heart hammering louder than the beat of the music.
“It doesn’t matter.” Jenna says, “She was there first-“
“I’m not some sort of prized cattle that’s been sold off to the highest bidder. Doesn’t it matter what I want?”
Jenna blinks. “And what do you want?”
It stops you in your tracks. Emma’s cute and sweet and so so pretty. But Jenna is Jenna. Your mouth opens, then closes.
“I don’t know.”
Jenna’s face is even, measured.
“Do you want to be with Emma?”
“I don’t know.”
A storm brews in her eyes. It was the wrong thing to say, you realize it immediately.
She shakes off your hand.
“Forget I said anything. Please.”
And she’s off. You don’t bother trying to follow her. What on earth were you supposed to say? Your head runs a mile a minute, overcrowded, thoughts of Jenna and Emma both. Who did you like more? You couldn’t possibly say.
You stare into your drink like it’s a crystal ball, trying to find the right answers. Emma finds you like this, nudges her shoulder against yours.
“Hey, you. Thought you were coming right back?” She’s teasing, a small smile playing on her lips. You blink back at her, confused, and the smile slips from her face.
“What’s wrong?”
You contemplate not saying anything. Taking her right back out to the dance floor. Her blue eyes are wide, concerned and you just can’t lie to her.
“Jenna-” You hesitate a moment. You don’t want to upset her, you don’t want to upset anyone. It’s an awful, horrible conundrum. But it’s gnawing at you: you need to be honest.
“Jenna told me she likes me.”
Emma just stares. Then she sighs.
“I know.” She admits quietly.
“You know?” You say, a little confused.
“That she liked you. It was kind of obvious.”
You stare.
She’s looking up at you, blue eyes vulnerable. “Do you- do you like her too?”
Your heart is in your throat.
Lie, your mind screams, lie you moron.
But you can’t. As much as you don’t want to see the disappointment flood her pretty blue eyes.
“Yes.” You admit.
“Oh.” She looks hurt and you hate it. You want to crawl into her lap, smooth the creases from her brow and tell her she’s all you want. But it isn’t true. Your heart twists, painfully.
“I like you too.” You say, “I’m- really confused.”
She just stares for a moment. For a second you think she might throw her drink in your face. Then she’s standing.
“Well, I guess you should figure that out then.” Her voice is a little shaky. You reach for her hand but she jerks away.
“Emma-”
“I’m going to go.”
“No, Emma, wait-”
But she’s gone. You curse, down the rest of your drink. This place suddenly feels overwhelming. The swell of the music, the blare of the lights. You close your eyes, drop your head in your hands.
What the fuck are you going to do?
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