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dilfdoctordoom · 3 years

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On Tom Taylor, the Current Nightwing Run & Ableism

I did mention I was gonna do a post about it, so here we are. There are some things I want to make clear before we begin: the issue exploded on Twitter on the very first day of disabled Pride month; disabled people have been discussing the ableism in Taylor’s Nightwing run since it began; nobody has blamed Taylor for what happened to Barbara in 2011. We are, however, blaming him for the way she is written in his series during 2021.

I am also going to be discussing the ableism in the fandom in this post. The reactions I have seen, from here to Twitter to TikTok, are showing not only a great misunderstanding of the situation, but a purposeful misunderstanding. The very real reasons disabled people are angry right now have been twisted to make us seem ridiculous and overly sensitive and I cannot help but feel that is very intentional.

Another quick addition: disabled people are not a monolith. Barbara Gordon spent over 20 years as a paralyzed wheelchair user. Stating (and I would like to note, never truly showing) that she is a part time cane user now is still erasing her disability. These things are not interchangeable.

So, with that out of the way, let’s begin.

Tom Taylor’s run is ableist. That is a fact of this situation. He made the active choice to include a version of Barbara Gordon that is ableist caricature. Story wise, the role that Barbara plays could have easily been filled by anyone else. There is no real season, within the narrative and outside of it, for Taylor to include this version of Barbara Gordon, who has received a decade of criticism from disabled people. It’s very well known that this iteration is problematic, to put it kindly, and Taylor is aware of that.

He made the active decision to include her, anyway, showing, at the very least, that he is passively, if not actively, ableist. Passive ableism is still ableism and disabled people are allowed to take issue with that.

That alone is reason enough for disabled people to be angry. But that’s not why things exploded on Twitter.

On July 1st, the very first day of disabled pride month, the new design for Barbara was dropped. After months of teasing Barbara’s return to a wheelchair using Oracle (see: Last Days of The DC Universe, Batgirl (2016), etc), they debuted... a new Batgirl costume that the artist has openly said draws inspiration from the Burnside suit.

There’s a lot of issues to unpack here, so let’s start small: the issue with consciously calling back to Burnside. The Burnside era of Batgirl stories was... beyond awful. The villain of the series’ first arc, was an AI based on Barbara’s brain patterns when she was disabled. It was evil because of all the rage and pain Barbara felt. The actual Barbara, on the other hand, was good -- because she was able bodied. Because her PTSD had been tossed aside. It was a horrifically ableist era that drove the idea that Barbara’s life was terrible when she was disabled; that it was some horrible, twisted secret.

Comics have kept that narrative going. Barbara is seen hiding books on chronic pain; she reacts aggressively to the mere idea that she could be in a wheelchair again, acting like it would be weakness. Whereas Barbara had once been Oracle not because of, but in spite of, her disability, who was fantastic representation for the disabled community, she now acts like it is the most shameful thing in her life.

To call back to Burnside is to call back to that ableism and make no critique of it. If anything, it’s to embrace the ideas of that era.

There is also the design itself to consider. Many people have pointed out the inclusion of a back brace, as if that saves it from ableism -- it does not. Any person who has ever worn a back brace can take one look at this design and know that they did not consult a disabled person. Hell, by how impractical that thing is, I doubt they even Googled a picture of a back brace.

It’s a superficial acknowledgement that Barbara is supposed to be disabled. Something that was apparently thrown in to appease the numerous complaints of Barbara being able bodied; something that no one working on it put any effort into.

When it comes to aids, this is not a new thing for Barbara in Infinite Frontier. She’s said to be using a cane occasionally, that we got a better look at in Batman: Urban Legends, and as any cane user can tell you... that is not a cane that could feasibly be used. It’s another pathetic attempt to acknowledge that Barbara is supposed to be disabled, without actually doing anything of importance.

[IMAGE ID: A segmented cane with a tri-pointed handle with a wrist strap. There is a stripe across the sections to connection them, labelled “solar battery charger buttons”. The text reads: “telescoping antenna doubles as cane or weapon if needed”. END ID]

Dropping this design (which we have now established to be problematic) on the very first day of disabled pride month is a sickening move. The very first day, and DC has doubled down on their disability erasure, thrown in superficial things like a back brace to act like it’s fine.

Tom Taylor is definitely involved in this, whether you like it not. No, he is not in anyway responsible for the events of the New 52 and what they did to Barbara Gordon, but that does not absolve him of blame for what is currently being done to her in his run.

When the design dropped, it started trending due to disabled fans reactions. To be clear: we were directly calling out the ableism in this design. This was Tom Taylor’s response:

[IMAGE ID: A tweet from TomTaylorMade that says: “Hey, @Bruna_Redono_F I think our new Batgirl suit is getting some attention.” He then adds a winky face emoji and tags @jesswchen and @drinkpinkkink. Attached are a screenshot showing that Batgirl is trending in the United States and a picture of the design itself. END ID]

This is him, bragging about how the disabled community reacted. Perhaps before this tweet, you could’ve made an argument that he was not ableist, but after he flaunted the fact that disabled people were rightly furious over this, like it was something to be proud of? No. If you are defending him, you are a part of the problem.

Taylor has included ableist writing in his Nightwing run, beyond the inherent ableism that comes with the current iteration of Barbara Gordon (whose inclusion, yet again, is his decision).

[IMAGE ID: A panel from Nightwing #79. Barbara and Dick are standing in his apartment. Barbara is saying: “I have some pretty new technology holding my spine together. I’m happy to do most things -- eat pizza in the park, take down low-level thugs -- but leaping from rooftops seems... unwise.” END ID]

What Barbara says in the panel above has bothered a lot of disabled people. The implication that she couldn’t “eat pizza in the park’ and “take down low-level thugs” without a spinal implant that conveniently erases her disability is... fucked up, to put it mildly. Those are both things that Barbara has done in a wheelchair. The first one is something wheelchair users can do and the implication that it’s not is beyond offensive.

But, let’s leave Barbara behind for a moment. I have previously mentioned that disabled people have been discussing the ableism present in this run long before July -- and that ableism is not only centred on Barbara. Dick is also a player in all this.

Dick Grayson was shot in the head. I don’t believe I need to retread the story, but just in case: Dick was shot in the head by KGBeast, developed amnesia from the event, and went by Ric Grayson for a long enough period in comics. If you have been active within the DC fandom for the past year or so, you know all about this controversial storyline and its fallout.

The Ric Grayson arc concluded itself the issue before Taylor became the writer for the series and ever since his tenure has begun, Taylor has completely ignored the reality of Dick being a disabled man. We understand this is comics, that things do not function the way they do in our world, but still -- it is clear that this gunshot wound to the head has affected Dick massively. We had an entire arc dedicated to how he struggled to find himself in the aftermath.

Taylor is choosing to write Dick as an able-bodied man, despite his canonical injuries and how they would impact his life.

This man is choosing to give empty gestures towards Barbara being a disabled woman (as discussed above, the completely dysfunctional back brace, etc) whilst writing her as able-bodied as possible. He writes both Dick and Barbara as able bodied as humanly possible. That is ableist. He is ableist. This is the same man that said he made a dog disabled ‘in honour of Barbara’. I do not think I need to elaborate on why that is bad.

The least he could’ve done, was get a sensitivity reader. We know that Taylor is not beyond getting people from marginalized communities to consult on his work (see: Suicide Squad), so why, when writing two characters that should be disabled, one that the disabled community have been criticising for a decade, does he not reach out to a single disabled person? A mere Google search could’ve improved the situation massively. In both the new design and the current writing, it is beyond clear that this is not just an able-bodied person writing it -- it’s an ableist person.

He could have listened to the numerous disabled fans that spoke out. Instead, he chose not only to refuse to do that, but to describe justifiable anger as ‘raging’. He treated us like we were crazy for daring to speak out about blatant ableism being parading around of us in our pride month.

Tom Taylor has failed to do the bare minimum and in doing so, he is, at very, very least, guilty of complicity. Again: passive ableism is still ableism.

The argument at hand is not just about Barbara Gordon and the continuing ableism that shines out from her current writing. The argument is about the treatment of disabled characters in his run. It has also become about the way he treats physically disabled people.

We also can’t have this conversation without acknowledging the fandom’s role in it all. I waited a day to write this up, to allow all the reactions to flood in... and I am sickened.

We have everything across the board. Able-bodied people that have actually listened to disabled people, who have supported us (which is deeply appreciated). Able-bodied people who may have had good intentions, but a skewed sense of the situation and perpetuating some of the more insidious lies being spread around (IE. that this is only about the new costume).

There are, obviously, the ableist reactions, though, that we will be discussing here. People deeming the current issues as ‘crazy’, calling disabled people ‘overly sensitive’ and ‘delusional’. Many people have completely glossed over the examples given for why Taylor, specifically, is ableist, and instead have resorted to telling disabled people that we are wrong and should be mad at DC instead.

It’s important to note that Tom Taylor is an adult man. He doesn’t need a fandom to attack disabled people for daring to call him out. He is not the victim in this situation; he has, for quite a few disabled people, been the aggressor.

I have seen claims that Infinite Frontier is a ‘slow burn’, implying that disabled people need to patient... as if we have not waited a decade for less ableist writing. There is a complete refusal from able-bodied fans to actually listen to what disabled people are saying. They would much rather rush to the defence of the (honestly rather mediocre) current Nightwing run.

Disabled fans know that comic book spaces are ableist. We know that both DC and Marvel and many of their writers are ableist. We are still allowed to be pissed as hell about it and acting like the current reaction being had right now is disabled people being ‘overdramatic’ is yet another example of how the able-bodied side of the fandom both refuses to listen to and undermine disabled people when we call out ableism.

We know it when we see it. We always do and we always will and we will always be able to recognize it far faster than an able-bodied person. If this many disabled fans are coming out and talking about an issue, calling it ableism, then it’s time for you shut up and listen.

Stop being a part of the problem and start supporting disabled fans for once.

#barbara gordon #dick grayson #nightwing #batgirl #tom taylor #tw ableism #okay to rb

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goldenraeofsun · 3 years

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4:01 PM

Dean sips his whiskey and glowers across the bar at his own reflection. His wrist is burning like a brand, but it’s probably all in his head. The stupid timers don’t cause physical pain when they reach T-minus zero, Houston we have a problem. The numbers freeze, and that’s that.

Dean’s had counted down to nothing at exactly 4:01 PM, fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes of running into his soulmate, getting his number, continuing on his way to this bar, and telling the bartender to keep ‘em coming.

He refuses to look at the far corner of the room, the booth he had reserved like an idiot. Four PM, party of two, under the name Winchester.

On the bar by his glass, his phone is still lit up with Cas’s texts from the past hour.

Cas 3:11 I’m so sorry I have to move our appointment. My client just unexpectedly switched our time to 4pm.

Cas 3:21 I think I’ll be able to escape by 4:30. Can I meet you then?

Dean had responded with a thumbs-up emoji. He didn’t have it in him to say any more.

Cas 3:50 This city is impossible to navigate. How does anyone live here?

Cas 3:58 You were right, I should have rented a car.

Three minutes after Cas’s last text, Dean ran into his soulmate. Right on schedule.

As far as first meetings go, it hadn’t been as much of a shitshow as Dean had expected.

The dude was attractive, at least, and the first thing he did after bumping into Dean was apologize. But he was wearing a tailored suit and glued to his phone, so it definitely could have been better.

His soulmate would’ve run off none the wiser, except Dean had to blurt, “Wait!” because, despite his disappointment, Dean couldn’t let his soulmate disappear into the throngs of Michigan Avenue. Dean wasn't about to fall to one knee, but he also couldn't let his best shot just go.

The man stopped, irritated. His gaze refused to linger on Dean, instead fixating on a building at the end of the block.

Head swimming with too many thoughts to name, Dean couldn’t get the right words out. He gestured mutely to his wrist, pulling up the flannel to show him.

Eyes widening with understanding, his soulmate quickly tugged up the cuff of his sleeve, only sparing a second to verify his own timer stopped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice.” he said, distracted. “My name is James. Here,” he fished out a pen and something to write on from various pockets of his trench coat, “my number. We… should talk. Later.” He scowled, raising his other wrist to check at his watch. “I need to go.”

“Sure, man,” Dean said, mostly grateful he didn’t have to stick around and have some heart-to-heart with a stranger that was apparently meant for him. Whatever the fuck that actually meant.

“Thank you,” James said swiftly. Without another word, he took off back down the street.

Dean didn’t bother to watch him go. He had a barstool waiting with his name on it.

Sam will laugh himself silly once Dean tells him his perfect match wound up being some corporate suit. Dean once told him he’d rather microwave his own head than set foot in an office cubicle.

Sammy was the big soulmate skeptic in the family. He found his non-timer approved other half while he was protesting an illegal dismissal of a disabled employee. Three years later, when Sam bumped into Gabriel Crawford in a strip club at midnight on Dean’s birthday, he discovered Gabe was perfectly happy to let Sam live his apple pie life while Gabe continued to party like it was 1999.

Gabe made Sam promise to look him up if Eileen was ever down for a threesome.

Turned out, Eileen was.

Sam most certainly was not.

He still sends Gabe a card for the holidays, and usually Gabe sends him back candy samples from wherever he’s vacationing for the winter.

But everyone else Dean knew bought into the soulmates game, hook, line, and sinker. His parents were soulmates. Benny and Garth both settled down with theirs. Charlie and Aaron were holding out for theirs. Hell, even Jo had her weird thing with Bela Talbot.

Dean would’ve counted himself among their number - until he met Cas.

Well, until Cas messaged him on Bobby’s new ask-a-mechanic feature on the garage’s website. Cas had inherited a banged up 1967 Mustang and had no idea where to start with restoration. Apparently Gabe of all people was staying with Cas at his place in southern California, and he recommended Dean.

Why Cas couldn’t just look up a local place still baffles Dean to this day, but he has never been more grateful for Cas’s weird-ass logic.

Their relationship had stayed strictly professional until Cas’s actual car broke down on some random highway in California. Dean had tried to talk Cas through the repair himself, but it was no use. Cas either didn’t have the equipment for the fix, or Dean didn’t diagnose the right problem. Dean was about to hang up, when Cas had asked, clearly embarrassed, “Would you please stay on the line? I have this irrational fear of being murdered in the middle of nowhere where nobody can find my body for proper rites.”

Dean, almost surprising himself, didn’t laugh. Instead, he said, “Sure thing. Wanna put me on hold while you get in touch with Triple A?”

He spent an hour and a half on the phone with Cas, telling him stupid stories about the worst things people have done with their cars.

In return, Cas told him all about the stars that were just coming out in the darkening desert sky.

The week after, Bobby’s garage received a gift certificate in the mail. It was for a weeklong stay at the Chicago location of the five-star hotel chain Cas works for, in Dean’s name.

Those little chocolates on the pillows ruined Dean for motels everywhere.

At the bar, Dean signals the bartender for a refill. He glares down at his phone. The little rectangle contains his entire history with Cas, call logs, text receipts, everything.

He can’t look at it any longer. He shoves it in his pocket, and the receipt with his soulmate’s phone number crinkles in protest. With a sigh, Dean takes out the flimsy piece of paper.

James’s handwriting is neat, so Dean doesn’t even have the excuse of not being able to read a digit or two.

Maybe Dean will give him a call after his drink with Cas. Hopefully, once James finds out that Dean’s just a mechanic, lives in a shoebox apartment in Bucktown, and has never been to Aspen or the Alps, he’ll tell Dean to take a hike.

Dean flips the receipt over, and his stomach gives a sickening lurch. In pretentious curlicue lettering, the first words Dean reads are, The Nine Spheres.

James is staying at Cas’s hotel.

Fucking great. Dean crumples the receipt and shoves it back in his pocket. With his luck, James will probably want to meet in the restaurant on the first floor, the fancy-ass place with the steakhouse burger and truffle fries Dean would actually sell his soul for.

Dean actually dreamed about that burger, a few months after his Cas-sponsored stay. When he told Cas about it, Cas let out a bark of laughter.

In the next breath, though, he told Dean he does the same when he’s scoping out a new location and can’t stay at a nearby Nine Spheres.

Dean tips back his glass of whiskey. It’s stopped burning on the way down his throat, a good sign.

He was so stupid, thinking he could fuck with destiny, fate, or whatever shitty power up there decides soulmates.

Once Cas told him about his business trip to his neck of the woods, Dean had taken one look at the numbers on his arm counting down and did the math. He would meet his soulmate smack dab in the middle of Cas’s window in Chicago.

He could make Cas be his soulmate. Cas never brought up his timer, if it was still ticking, if he’d already met his other half. And Dean, coward that he was, never asked. If he didn’t know for sure, then there was that slim, slim chance that theirs matched up after all.

But no, Cas had to go and switch up their meeting time at the last second, and Dean had run into James instead.

His pocket buzzes with a new text. Mood lower than Cas’s voice register, Dean slides his phone out.

Cas 4:38 My meeting is over. Should I still meet you at the same place?

Dean 4:39 Yeah Hope its okay I got started without you

Cas 4:40 More than okay, considering my scheduling difficulties.

Dean 4:40 See you soon

Dean sighs and drains his glass.

Foot jiggling on the barstool and eyes trained on his hands clasped in front of him, Dean deliberately does not look around as the door opens.

And opens again.

And again.

Confused and irritated, Dean takes another look around. Above the bar, a chalkboard clearly proclaims Happy Hour from 4:30-6:30 PM. Dean ducks his head, scowling into the remains of his drink. He probably overlooked the sign before because of his single-minded quest to get shitfaced like a freshly-dumped senior at prom stuck next to the spiked punch bowl.

His phone obnoxiously tells him it’s 4:43.

That’s just great. Dean hops off the stool, meaning to ask the hostess if anyone’s asked for Winchester, when James pushes open the door.

Dean stops dead in his tracks.

James freezes, his eyes going wide. His trench coat swishes ominously to a stop.

Should Dean turn around? Pretend he didn’t see? Cas is going to be here any second.

Before he can make up his mind, James is walking towards him. “Hello,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you here.”

Dean swallows. “Me neither,” he says honestly.

James scans the small crowd now gathered around the bar, brow furrowing in concentration. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”

Dean lets out a silent exhale of relief. He musters up a weak smile. “No problem, man. I’ll leave you to it.” As he turns back around, James steps up to the hostess stand.

James says, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the din, “I’m a bit late, but is there a reservation for Winchester? For 4:30?”

Dean could not possibly have heard what he thinks he did. But the timing is right - for once. He spins around, practically losing his balance thanks to the booze he already drank.

The hostess scans her sheet of names, shaking her head. “There was a reservation for Winchester at four PM, but that’s it.”

James’s face falls. Shoulders slumping, he pulls out his phone, squinting as the screen lights up. “He said he was here,” he mutters.

He can’t be Cas. That would be crazy - like, dingo ate my baby, crazy.

“Could be at the bar,” the hostess says flippantly, tilting her head to the crowded area. “Most of ‘em don’t check in.”

James’s lips press together. “Thank you,” he says to the hostess, his tone clipped. “I’ll wait there.”

Dean steps in front of him before James can get lost in the throng of people. “I heard you’re lookin’ for me,” he says with a confidence that’s only 99% bullshit.

James blinks. “You?”

“Dean Winchester, at your service,” he says, spreading his arms wide.

“Dean,” he echoes, his gaze raking up and down Dean’s body, drinking him in with his new eyes.

“Gotta say,” Dean drawls as his heart pounds with nerves. Doubt niggles at the back of his mind like an itch he can’t scratch, but he’s already made his memory foam bed. Might as well lie in it. “Cas is the weirdest nickname for James that I’ve ever heard.”

“My full name is James Castiel Novak,” Cas says, flushing. “James - that’s what I go by professionally. My family calls me Castiel.”

Dean can’t hold back his broad grin. “Family, eh?”

Cas’s expression takes a swift dive from embarrassed to mortified. “And friends,” he tacks on. He takes a step closer, staring at Dean’s face in wonder. “But you’re also my soulmate.”

Dean laughs giddily. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t beat around the bush. Not your style.” He jerks his head towards the bar. “I think I see an open seat. You wanna have that talk now?”

Cas hesitates. “Would you like to go to Nine Spheres instead? I’ve had business dinners every evening I’ve been in Chicago so far, and, while the food has been good-”

“It’s not the steakhouse burger?” Dean finishes for him.

The corners of Cas’s mouth turn down into a slight grimace. “Last night, a client treated us to tapas. I woke up starving.”

Dean smiles. “You know I’m always down for that burger.”

“Excellent,” Cas says with relish as he pushes open the door.

They walk onto the street, and it’s almost offensively quiet after the noise of the bar. It’s a balmy Spring evening, the sun still relatively high in the sky.

“You don’t seem disappointed anymore,” Cas says out of nowhere as they reach the end of the block.

So Cas caught on to that, back when they first ran into each other. Dean shrugs. “I just got stood up by the guy I’d specially set up to meet me at 4:01. Wouldn’t you be?”

Cas clears his throat, asking hoarsely, “You wanted it to be me?”

Dean throws him a look. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Cas just shrugs. The light changes, and they step off the curb.

“Were you… disappointed?” Dean asks hesitantly.

Cas lets out a surprised laugh. “Of course not. I didn’t even think - well,” he falters, casting a sidelong look at Dean, “I’m not disappointed. Believe me.”

The automatic doors to Nine Spheres open, hitting them with a burst of perfectly conditioned air. Dean hasn’t stepped foot in the hotel since Cas paid for his stay, but it hasn’t changed one bit. The same tiered giant chandelier glitters overhead. Giant pillars bracket the concierge desk to the left and the enormous staircase to the right that leads up to the second floor rooms. The tiled floor, so polished Dean can practically see his reflection, stretches the length of the lobby.

Dean sticks out like a flannel-wearing sore thumb. “Cas,” he hisses, “hold on. I don’t think I’m dressed right for this place.”

Cas sucks in a breath. “No,” he says as Dean’s heart sinks, “I suppose not.” He jerks his head towards the elevator bay. “Room service?”

Dean blinks.

“I’ve called for the burgers on several occasions at other locations,” Cas assures him. “It tastes as good.”

Was Cas actually trying to convince him to go up to his room? What a dumbass. Dean laughs.

Cas colors, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Forget it,” he mutters. “We don’t-”

“You know, if you invite me up to your room,” Dean cuts him off, “you’re going to have a bitch of a time getting me to leave, right?”

Cas stares at him.

“Dude,” Dean says, “I’ve never stayed anywhere this nice in my life. Between the food, the water pressure, and the robe that felt like I was fucking a cloud, I had enough of a hard time leaving last time.”

“I’m glad,” Cas says stiltedly. “We strive to provide the optimal experience to all our guests.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “’M saying, add you to the mix, and they’re gonna have to drag me out of here, kicking and screaming.”

“And if I don’t want you to leave?” Cas asks in an undertone as he pushes the up button for the elevator.

“Then I guess we don’t have a problem,” Dean says, winking.

Cas’s responding grin falls as the doors close behind them and the elevator starts moving. He shakes his head. “It’s a shame there are cameras in here.”

Dean leans in closer, whispering in his ear, “Doesn’t bother me much. Whaddya say to giving the peeping toms a show, then?”

Cas bites his lip, and this close, Dean can see how his eyes have blown black with want. “I - I can’t.”

It’s like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice water. Dean steps back, shame filling him. That’s fine. He can regroup. Hopefully Cas will be more receptive behind closed doors. It’s not the first time this has happened, anyway.

“Dean, I have to work with these people every day,” Cas hisses, wringing his hands. “The last time an executive got… busy with a coworker in the pool, the mocking didn’t end for weeks. Not to mention her rebuke from upper management.” He throws Dean a desperate look. “I would like for you to be fully clothed by the time you meet my coworkers for the first time.”

Cas is already planning for Dean to meet his people?

The elevator dings, and Cas steps out. “Are you coming?” he asks hesitantly.

“Oh, yeah,” Dean says quickly. As he follows Cas down the maze of rooms, he has to ask, “You were planning on introducing me to your coworkers?”

Cas’s cheeks pink. “Unless you were opposed to it,” he mutters as he stops in front of Room 1518. He sighs, making no move to insert his keycard. Instead, he lifts his head to meet Dean’s gaze squarely. “I’ve put in a transfer request to Chicago.”

“What?”

“It was before I knew you were my soulmate,” Cas says quickly. “I’ve never felt like I fit in in California, and my parents live in Pontiac. The Chicago office is decently large, and, well, I knew you were here,” he says, his voice going quiet near the end. He straightens. “So there were many reasons.”

“You’re staying?” Dean says, his mouth dry.

Cas bobs a nervous nod. “I hope that’s okay.”

Dean grins. “Sure is.”

Cas touches the inside of his wrist, his expression turning almost shy. “Of course, when I first pictured introductions, it was strictly as a friend. I don’t really know anyone else in this city well, and I’ve told you about my difficulty in social situations, so it would’ve been more for moral support than anything else. But after this evening -”

Dean interrupts his rambling. “Are there cameras in the hallway?”

“What- oh,” Cas says, his eyes flicking down to Dean’s lips before back up again. “Yes?” He points. “They’re all the way down there, though, so they can’t -”

Dean cuts him off with a heated kiss.

#destiel #fanfic #destiel fanfic #soulmates au #businessman Castiel #mechanic Dean #profoundnet #rae writes fic #i post something new every Sunday #this one kind of got away from me #but hopefully in a good way #deancas #deancas fanfic

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soulwillower · 4 years

Text

helping hand • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader smut)

requested: How about some Richie x Reader fluff and smut where Richie breaks his right arm protecting the reader from someone or something so they end up taking care of Rich and doing things for him until he's better. But one day they see he's frustrated and acting weird until he confesses he can't jerk off so the reader helps him out ;) also I forgot what emoji I was so I'll just be this lol - 🐜

warnings: swearing, smut, switch! richie, oral sex (male receiving), a teensy bit of dirty talk, unedited

[losers + reader are 18+]

2.7k words

♡

you keep your cool until richie sighs for the fifth time. "okay, what's wrong?" you ask, putting down your book and looking at richie, who's laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. so dramatic.

"oh, nothing." he says nonchalantly, but you quirk a brow. "do you need something? does your arm hurt?" you ask, starting to get up and find his painkillers. he shakes his head, using his good arm to prop himself up on his mattress as he tells you not to get up. your eyes catch the pink arm cast on his right hand and your lips quirk up at the messy writing all over it : in fancy writing, the name "dick" (courtesy of stan) glints under the light of richie's bedside lamp.

you'd written your name with a small heart because normally, had it been a different case, you would've drawn as many penises as you could fit - just like eddie and bill had done. but you had a little more sympathy for your friend because, after all, richie had broken his arm trying to help you.

as much as you're sure richie fantasized about being the 'knight in shining armor' that comes to the rescue with swords blazing, what he really did is break his arm by running his mouth. but honestly, he still was your knight in shining armor no matter what because you were unfortunately head over ass for the boy.

henry bowers is who you could blame for all this; its almost as if he had a knack for snapping kid's arms in two like he'd done to eddie when you were all thirteen. he'd been alone (for what might have been the first time ever), waiting outside keene's drug store when you, richie, stan and ben had come out, slushies in hand. he'd come to get a 'revenge' of sorts because you'd given him a slight embarrassment when you dumped your food tray on him earlier that day in the cafeteria.

he'd pushed you towards the wall (and yes, you had dropped your slushie) and wound back like he was about to really give one to you right in the gut, but richie had immediately grabbed his skateboard and smacked bowers in the head with the deck hard enough that you could slip away when he recoiled.

unfortunately for the rest of you, especially richie, bowers tossed him right to the ground and landed a solid punch to his cheekbone before stan, ben and you could rip him off. but it got worse, because richie called him something along the lines of "daddy's boy" and that struck quite a nerve, prompting henry to stomp down so hard on richie's forearm that it broke skin and you could hear the sickening snap.

so after a slight concussion, a round of minor surgery and a pink arm cast fastened around and up the crook of his elbow, richie was unable to go to school for a week and you felt the need to help him in any way you saw fit. you were concerned, but more than anything you just wanted to be around him, because he made you happy and made you laugh and turn red in a way that nobody else does.

"well then what's bothering you?" you ask, walking over so you're sitting sideways on his bed next to him. you swear his cheeks turn a little red and he grins small, "oh, nothing, sweet thing. it's all your imagination, i'm doing swell!" he insists, winking at you. it doesn't work though, and you roll your eyes. "if you don't tell me, i can’t do it for you and you’ll have to suffer in silence." you reason.

richie makes an odd expression and mutters, "you have no idea."

you're thouroughly frustrated now, "i promise, whatever it is i will do my best to do it for you or help you, i just need to know what it is!" you insist, annoyed that he's being so stingy.

he shakes his head, mimicking a zipper motion and he tosses the invisible key into his overloaded trash bin in the corner of his room. you huff and roll your eyes, deciding to pick up and fold some of the blankets on his floor.

if you wiggle your hips more than necessary when you bend over, that’s your own business and not richie’s. and if he stares openly at your ass with his bottom lip punctured under his canines, that’s his own business and not yours.

"no, doll." he says, but his cheeks are bright pink, his lip caught between his teeth as his eyes avoid yours. "you - no." he insists, chuckling to himself awkwardly. despite how weird he was acting, your stomach flutters and sways around because of how goddamn cute he was, how attractive it was when he bit his lip. jesus, you're so fucked for him.

you tilt your head, feeling annoyed that he's being difficult, "just tell me!" you insist, looking at him bewildered. what isn't he telling you?

"well i can't, like, just tell my best friend that i'm frustrated because i can't rub one out without giving my dick cast-burn. that shit hurts, by the way." he adds, groaning as he rubs his forehead in exasperation.

you feel yourself burn red at the words he says and you roll your eyes, "well you just did and i'm horrified." and that's very, very far from the truth.

in all honesty, right now as you look at richie you can't help but imagine him, lips parted and cheeks warm as he pants, the sweet moans and groans that would leave his lips as he touches himself. in fact, it makes you clench your thighs together.

"can't you use your other hand?" you ask tentatively, unsure if you're crossing a boundary that you don't want to cross. because richie is, as you and the losers very well know, very open about his sex life, and you're afraid he will tell you things that will make you see green in jealousy.

"it just doesn't feel as good, y/n." he mumbles, falling back and sighing. tentatively, you lay your hand on his thigh as you pull yourself up closer to his body. "i'm weak. and injured." he adds in a whine.

"i'm not." you say, lifting a brow. your stomach starts to burn as you realize what you're going for right now - what if richie gets disgusted?

you snap out of it as richie sits up, propping himself so he can look up at you with raised eyebrows. "well lucky you, that doesn't help me, though." he says with a lifted brow.

you shrug, deciding to just fuck it and shoot your shot. "it could." you say boldly, your hand still on his sweats. he gapes at you, slowly licking his lips as an awkward laugh escapes his mouth. the huff of his laugh isn't one of mockery; more one of disbelief as he already feels himself twitch under his sweats as you look down at him.

you clear your throat softly, "i could."

"oh, shit." he mutters, eyes wide and a smirk on his face. "y-you're for real?"

you nod as he sits up slightly so he's even with you, his breath hot as it hits your face. you shrug, hand gliding up slightly to reach his waistband. his breath hitches as your fingertips run over the band. "only if you want it."

the way he nods and pulls you directly to him would be pathetic if you didn't feel the exact same (if not more) desperation in your body for him. his lips are shockingly soft and you smile against his lips as you realize he's wearing bev's strawberry flavored chapstick. as his tongue slides into your mouth, your hand slides over to palm his hardening dick, smiling a bit as he moans at the touch.

a few minutes later you've lost both your shirts, hickies splattered throughout richie’s chest and neck, and you climb between his legs, knees on the ground as his legs fall to the ground from his bed.

you slide his sweats off and he lets out a whine. "think you can handle it?" you mutter with a smirk. his red cheeks puff a bit as he rolls his eyes.

you press your thighs together at the sight of his dick straining against the fabric of his boxers. “y/n. you’re.. fuck.” he mutters as you mouth over his fully hard cock. your hands come up to the waistband of his boxers and you slide them down as he watches you with intense eyes.

his cock is hard and long and you grip his base, your hand coming to steady yourself on his thigh, trying not to show your shock at how big he actually is.

"think you can handle it, toots?" he says cockily, recalling what you'd said earlier and making you roll your eyes. "shut up." you mutter and slowly you start to move your hand, darting your tongue out and flattening it to lick from the base all the way up to his tip, staring into his eyes as you take in his tip.

he’s muttering swears, eyes wide as he watches you suck lightly. as you take a breath and sink lower onto his cock, your tongue flattening on the bottom of his shaft as you push further, he tightens his grip.

he lets out a low moan which might be the hottest noise you’ve ever heard, his hands flying to the back of your head in pleasure. the rest of him that you can’t fit you pump with your hand, your head bobbing and making obscene sounds in his empty bedroom. you have to clench your thighs because you're so incredibly turned on, enthusiastically moving your head as he groans. the action makes you moan around him and he moans your name, motivating you further.

you shiver when his good hand comes to gather your hair back behind your head as well as he can, muttering "fuck, doll, been wanting this for forever." you’re breathing through your nose, swallowing around him and you moan at his words because god, you've waited forever too. he feels so good, so big as he stretches your throat and you do your best to swallow around him. "good, right there. 'm close, y/n/n."

he pushes your head down on him slightly and you choke, pulling back. he looks regretful, even though his cherry lip is caught between his pearly white teeth and his hair is disheveled and his cheeks are rosy. “that- that was hot. you can do that again.” you gasp, voice broken as you suck in breaths. you feel a string of spit from your lips to his dick and he smirks, eyeing the sight. he shuts his eyes, clenching his jaw, “fuck-” he mutters before he guides you down to his cock again, thrusting slowly.

his hands forcing your head down lightly. “yeah, toots. just like that.” he says lowly as you try to relax your throat, gagging as he pushes you further down on him. you feel him hit the back of your throat and he moans loudly.

you try to pull back to breathe, but he holds you for a few more moments before he quickly pulls you off. you gasp and sputter, knowing you’re fucked because that was about the hottest thing to ever happen to you. you just stick your tongue out again, opening your mouth eagerly. you want him back in your mouth. "please, rich." you say and his jaw almost drops, eyes dark as he pushes you back onto him and guides your head up and down, hitting your throat.

spit is streaming from your mouth and the room is filled with the sound of his cock in your mouth and your moans. you can tell he’s getting close and you hollow your cheeks as well as you can. “shit, doll, i’m-i’m gonna cum.” he mutters, trying to pull you off, but you stay, bobbing and sucking, wanting to taste him for as long as you can.

and he spills into your mouth, your hand slowing to a stop as you slowly slide your mouth up and down, tongue lapping up all the cum from his cock. you swallow it, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and gasping. his cheeks are bright red, his chest heaving as he tugs your hands so you fall onto the bed with him, his casted arm resting against his chest, you during up on his side. it's quiet for a few moments as he tugs his boxers up.

he turns his head on the mattress and you do too, eyes meeting. "how can i get you to do that even when the cast comes off, babe?" he asks - his voice is teasing but soft. you grin softly and roll your eyes. "i think you just need to ask, rich." you say with a short chuckle. he boops your nose with his non casted arm and it releases an embarrassing amount of butterflies in your stomach.

"right. hey, y/n, can i go down on you?" he asks with a smile. your face feels hot as you gape at him, shocked at his bluntness. "rich, i-"

he laughs, "nah, doll. but for real, will you go out with me sometime? i promise i'm a gentleman. i'll buy you dinner, and then go down on you."

you roll your eyes, smushing his face with your hand as you laugh, leaning in to kiss him sweetly. "yeah, sure. i'm doing it for the food, though." he laughs loudly at this. "sure." he mutters, pulling you to his chest.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs

#🐜#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #losers x reader #losers club x reader #stanley uris x reader #bill denbrough x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #mike hanlon x reader #beverly marsh x reader #ben hanscom x reader

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meggannn · 3 years

Note

Can I ask, what's the beef with Greg Ellis and Mark Darrah? I haven't been keeping up with BioWare in general and the Dragon Age fandom & company division in particular (I'm more of a Mass Effect person) so all I noticed is that two big names (were?) quit a few days ago so I am genuinely puzzled at that exchange. Did Ellis get screwed over by BioWare/Darrah somehow or is he doing some unfounded shit-stirring?

Oh for sure, so I don’t know all the details, but I’ll try

Greg Ellis

Greg Ellis is the voice actor for Cullen, a character who is in every Dragon Age game. the actor has been a pretty shitty person for a while—I’m sure there’s a callout post for him somewhere on tumblr—but he’s the British equivalent of a Trumper, transphobic, hosts a podcast/contributes to/does audio readings for a right-leaning website that complains about liberals and universities, often gets into fights with LGBT+ folk on twitter and block them (so many that a lot of DA fans couldn’t read his tweets today lol).

[ID: Greg Ellis tweet: “I praise @Ayaan for supporting @jk_rowling in standing her ground. They are heroes of our times. /end ID]

[ID: Greg Ellis tweet: “Today on The Respondent @GreggHurwitz discusses the challenges of identitarianism on college campuses. /end ID]

From Wikipedia: Identitarianism: “The Identitarian movement or Identitarianism is a post-World War II European far-right political ideology which asserts the right of Europeans and peoples of European descent to preserve the culture and territories.”

[ID: Greg Ellis tweet from June 2018: Indicative of our current culture that I tweet about inspirational free thinkers & up pops a trolling SJW who can’t separate me from my work. Conflating my inclusive & equitable opining with a video game character I voice is SJW indent politicking full blown.”

Greg Ellis tweet replying to a disappointed fan who was upset about his support for Trump: “Speaking ‘on behalf of thousands of fans’ of a video game & suggesting I ‘broke their hearts’ because I support ALL who hold Presidential office is ludicrous. VG fandom is not exclusive to LGBTQ or those not hate filled about @potus. I believe in equity & inclusivity.” /end ID]

to demonstrate how much of an attention-seeking child he is, Ellis also likes to tease his fans with hashtags and get them up in a tizzy to gain followers, tagging things #Cullennites and #DA4 just to wind up bait-switching and actually talk about something completely different, or maybe even nothing.

[ID: Tweet from Greg Ellis, I don’t have the date but I believe this was from spring of 2018: “I’ve been officially authorized to disclose details about the game only when I reach 10k followers. I feel like a puppet. Will you help pull the strings? I’m positively itching to share. #videogame #announcement #cullenites” /end ID]

Beef with Mark Darrah

I think what specifically started his beef with Mark Darrah was this summer, Ellis tweeted in support of Ayaan/JKR (above), resulting in a lot of upset fans replying to him. He got in lots of fights with them, blocking several, prompting fans to make more tweets expressing anger/disappointment about DA4/the future of Cullen, and even tweet at other Dragon Age developers asking if Cullen could be recast if he comes back at all.

Mark Darrah made a tweet saying basically nothing substantial about it, but he said: “It’s important to us that the people we work with are aligned with our BioWare values. This will be apparent when we’re ready to announce what actors will be lending their voices to the game.” He even replied directly to a few fans throughout the tags/search results who were concerned, including @theherocomplex which I saw, so it’s a safe assumption he was at least taking the anger seriously.

Ellis replied to the public tweet: “What r the @bioware values @BioMarkDarrah? Don’t the loyal #Cullenites & @dragonage fans have a right to know? Don’t u have a responsibility to tell them? DO u support cancel culture? Do u support defamatory comments like this? Careful how u answer ~ u might lose ur job”

I mean, it’s pretty ballsy to threaten a lead creative at a company responsible for a chunk of your fame when your character’s arc is effectively over and they don’t need to have you in any games anymore... there are tons of crappy British actors out there to replace you, and it’s not like they don’t already have Gideon Emery in a dozen different wigs, lmao

What Happened This Week (Dec 3 and Dec 4, 2020)

Mark Darrah was, until recently, a staple in the Dragon Age team. A lot of people were worried when his resignation yesterday came out of the blue, and Casey Hudson (also a lead creative/big name) also resigned from the Mass Effect team at the same time, which to me is pretty concerning.

Yesterday after the news broke, a fan asked Darrah if his beef with Ellis might have had anything to do with his departure (basically asking if it was a forced resignation): “If this has anything to do with a recent blowout with a VA from Inquisition who publically called for @BioMarkDarrah to be fired, I'm going to be so sickened and disappointed by this company for siding with bigotry.” Darrah replied with just “lol” which to me was a little concerning, because if you read it sarcastically, it seemed to imply the drama with Ellis did have something to do with it. without proof, it’s difficult to say, and of course Darrah and Hudson gave polite goodbyes but are silent on the real reasons that prompted them to go.

Today, Ellis has managed to convince himself that he did get Darrah fired, likely over the stink he raised about Darrah publicly for siding with LGBT+ fans over him. but in his replies to that, Darrah mentioned pretty open skepticism in his tweets that Ellis would ever be rehired by BW again, so.... maybe the Ellis drama is not it. IDK.

TLDR: basically, Ellis is a bigoted right-wing voice actor who picks fights with fans who call him out, and he is still coasting off the attention highs he got from voicing a highly controversial video game character in a franchise that hasn’t hired him since 2014. in summer 2020, Ellis threatened Darrah’s job (not at as if he has any power to threaten him with), basically because Darrah stood up to him, and now that he no longer has to play civil as a BioWare employee, Darrah finally snapped and called him out on twitter for being unprofessional and implied Ellis wouldn’t be asked back to BioWare anyway even if Ellis WAS the reason he left. other Dragon Age developers (who still work at BW) are liking and replying to Darrah’s tweets with supportive gifs/emojis, so I think it’s a fair to say Darrah’s attitude is prevalent in the company but current workers just can’t say anything, and they do not want Ellis back again.

#dragonsdeadanddancing #askbox #greg ellis cw #bioware stuff

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palettes-and-prompts · 4 years

Text

25 Dialogue Prompts for Each Color of the Rainbow (Part 2)

Red 1) "How could anyone not like me? I'm perfect." 2) "Quick! They're coming, how do I look? Do I have anything in my teeth? Do I smell because I need to look perfect!" 3) "Wow, have you been working out, you look great!" 4) "Oh, this old thing? I just threw this on." 5) "You really think I'm beautiful?" 6) "I wasn't meant to be some little star. I was meant to be the sun." 7) "They haven't texted me since the date and it's been a week. What if they didn't like me? No, that's ridiculous, I'm wonderful. Something must've just happened to their phone." 8) "I'm going to die alone aren't I? Just me, some cats, and boxed wine. At least Real Housewives will always be there for me." 9) "They're obviously not looking for perfection because I'm right here." 10) "I'm not shopping at a thrift store, that's where poor people shop!" 11) "You had better change for the party because you're fucking high if you think I'm going to let you stand next to me while you wear that outfit." 12) "A gift? For me? Oh you shouldn't have! Oh...a book...wow...thanks. You, uh, really shouldn't have." 13) "Please be a loser somewhere else." 14) "I'm on a diet where I have to drink kale. If you value your life leave right now." 15) "I want this entire box of Kit Kats." "....the whole box." "NOW!" 16) "It's scary out there, I'm not coming with you to check out that noise." "Okay." "No! Wait, don't actually leave me alone." 17) "I am not a scaredy cat! I just don't like when things pop out at me or creep around in the dark or come within ten feet of me unless they're hot." 18) "I would never ever fall in love with you." "Okay, well, you're still holding onto me." "I just didn't want to get lost!" 19) "Wow, you're really strong. Like...really strong." "If you're that thirsty there's a water fountain right over there." 20) "God look at them. They look so good when they're sweaty. Oh fuck they're taking their jacket off." "You're drooling." 21) "Give me back the honey bun or I will scratch your eyes out." "You need to calm down." "You need to not tell me to calm down." 22) "Everyone keeps getting flowers and it's so annoying. Like, we have work to do, you shouldn't be worried about getting flowers. I hate flowers, I-" "I think there are some flowers on your desk." "Oh my god I love flowers! They're so pretty. Aww, I wonder who got them for me." " 23) "I think you're the most dramatic person I know." "That can't be true, I'm not dramatic." "You literally cried yesterday when no one noticed you got your hair trimmed like a centimeter." "It was a big difference from how it was!" "It was a centimeter!" 24) "My ideal home is one that's small but enough to have a family in." "They're such a fucking liar, their ideal home has to have mirrors everywhere, a double curved staircases so they can walk down dramatically, a maze in the backyard, a fountain in the front with a circular driveway, but then the road in is lined with trees because their dramatic and when you get to the gate it has their last initial on it." "Oh my god, you do listen to me!" "Unfortunately yes." 25) "Are you in love with me?" "What? No, I can't stand you." "You remember everything about me! You pay attention to everything I say and I can be very..." "Dramatic?" "Passionate about certain things. You hate it." "I don't hate it." "So you love it?" "We don't have to put a label on what I feel." "Yes we do. You love me!" "Fine, okay, I love you." "Really?" "Don't get all passionate right now." "I'm already planning our wedding in my mind."

Orange 1) "You're really cool, we should hang out sometime. Maybe you could watch me skateboard." 2) "You're always stressing yourself out, why don't you let me help you unwind?" 3) "It's just you, me, and this goat you told me not to get." 4) "You think hiding your snacks is gonna stop me from eating them? I'm like a bloodhound, I will sniff them out!" 5) "What do you think would happen if I snorted Cheeto dust?" 6) "Remember when you told me not to try to reach into the vending machine when my chips got stuck because my arm would get stuck in there. Well, the good news is I got my chips. Bad news is I wont be home for a while." 7) "You know how Gaston ate four dozen eggs every morning to help him get large? Okay, so that's bullshit because when I was a kid I tried to do that and I barely ate a dozen before I threw up." 8) "Oh, I'm an idiot? Because I think I'm fucking styling in these diamond studded crocs while I ride my razor scooter!" 9) "Oh, I always get a perfect score on any test I take. Everyone always thinks I'm cheating but the doctors say I've got something called an photographic memory where I only look at things once and I just remember it. Anyway, wanna see how many ants I can eat?" 10) "One time I got stung by a bee on the tongue because I wanted to see what it felt like." "Did it feel good?" "It did not." 11) "I used to think Bronchitis meant I was growing broccoli inside my lungs." "It doesn't mean that. When did you find out that it didn't mean that?" "Oh, um, like... a few days ago." "A FEW DAYS AGO?!" 12) "So, I did something." "What did you do?" "I should preface by saying I am not smart." "What. Did. You. Do?" 13) "Just shaved a cat to look like a lion with a mane." "That's so stupid, why would you do that?" "Why don't you look at the results first?" 14) "I beat all of Super Mario World and found every single secret." "When's the last time you slept?" "Last time I what?" 15) "Why are you all twitchy?" "I just mixed every energy drink from the gas station with pixie sticks." "Jesus, we're going to the hospital." 16) "I know eating cheese makes you constipated and everything, but like, how much cheese? I don't want to be constipated so what's the maximum amount I can eat without that happening." 17) "Don't freak out, but I'm in jail." "JAIL?!" "It's all a big misunderstanding!" 18) "Can I tell you something without you getting mad?" "You always ask me this and I always get mad." "Yeah, but like, maybe this time you could just...not get mad?" 19) "You are the human equivalent of the smiley face emoji." "Aww! Thank you." "It wasn't a compliment." 20) "You look like you eat sunshine and shit rainbows." "Actually I eat Lucky Charms. Well, just the charms actually with like a little bit of the lucky bit." "You're so positive it sickens me." 21) "I love Thanksgiving." "Yikes. Why?" "Because I get to have dinner with all my friends and family. There's no pressure to buy gifts or anything. We all just come together and appreciate each other." "I could put everything you've ever said on a Hallmark card." 22) "Do you know how much I love you?" "You send me every heart emoji before bed and end it with a kissy face with the words 'I love you' every night. I think I get it." "I'll start doing it every morning just to be sure." 23) "You know how in Inside Out there's all the different little people that represent each emotion?" "Yeah, I love that movie!" "Yeah, I think your Joy emotion person killed your Sad emotion person." "What? No! She wouldn't do that!" " 24) "You have to stop crying every time this scene in the movie comes up." "He thinks she doesn't love him!" "It's just Shrek. You've seen how it ends, you can quote it for fuck's sake!" "I know but he doesn't know right now!" "Oh my god." 25) "I swallowed the key to Person A's car." "Oh my god why would you do that?" "I thought it'd be funny but now I'm worried about it." "Oh now you're worried about it?"

Yellow 1) "I heard everyone survived, is that true?" "Yes, everyone's fine." "Pity." 2) "If being classy means being mean to everyone who's considered to be beneath you then I must be the classiest bitch in the whole fucking world." 3) "I don't think you're beneath me, I know you are." 4) "A piece of advice I'll give to you for free. Stay out of my way unless you'd like to be crushed under my foot." 5) "Hmm, I wonder which shoes I should wear to stomp on the dreams of others today." 6) "Don't cry on me, this jacket is worth more than your car!" 7) "Oh no, I won. Aww! And you wanted it so bad, didn't you?" 8) "You know, in duos it's usually one's the beauty and one's the brains but in our case I guess I really lucked out, didn't I?" 9) "Don't think for a second I'm interested in you, I'm only speaking to you because I have to." 10) "They took something that was mine. And now I have to kill them." 11) "I was scheduled to ruin someone's life today, but I guess I can save that for another time. Let's hang out!" 12) "I know that person, their significant other made my friend cry so I slept with their boyfriend/girlfriend and made them fall in love with me. I can't wait to be there when they tell them they're leaving them for me." 13) "You need good friends, people who will watch out for you and help you handle your problems." 14) "Listen here, you little shit, I've worked hard to get this perfect so if you fuck it up I will destroy everything you love." 15) "Oh, how cute! You think you're a threat to me." 16) "Next time you try to threaten me remember who you're dealing with. Because I don't do threats, I make promises. And when I promised I'd ruin your life I intended to keep that promise." 17) "Oh my god, here comes that insufferable bitc-Hi! Oh my god, I haven't seen you in forever, you look so good!" 18) "Oh, gag me with a fucking spoon. If I have to listen to you idiots try to talk and breathe at the same time I'm going to jump in front of a fucking bus." 19) "Move! I'll handle it just like I handle everything, with grace and vague threats." 20) "What do you mean they're in love with me? Did they say that word for word? Because you know I'm in love with them so if this is a trick it's not funny and I'll fucking kill you. Did they say that word for word?" 21) "I only have strengths I don't have weaknesses." 22) "They called me heartless? I'm not heartless! I'm nice. I'm so fucking nice. I'm going to prove how fucking nice I am and then they're going to look like an idiot for saying that!" 23) "Stop crying. You look fucking pathetic and you're not pathetic because I don't have pathetic friends. So keep your head up, bury your feelings, and act like the goddamn champion you are." 24) "Don't speak, you could make the town idiot feel like a genius." 25) "Stop acting like a loser or you're not allowed to stand next to me anymore."

Green 1) "Well, look at that, we're all alone. So, anything you wanna say to me? Anything you wanna do to me?" 2) "Of course I have sex for money, you think I'd just give all this away for free?" 3) "What do you mean I can't wear this to the funeral? It's my mourning crop top." 4) "How's my outfit?" "Hideous. You should shred it and then burn it just to be safe." 5) "Ew, what do you want?" 6) "I'm gonna need you to not stand next to me at this party, I don't want anyone thinking we came together." 7) "Does this make me look slutty?" "Not at all, it's very modest for you actually." "Ew, okay, I'm gonna go change." 8) "Why are you putting on glitter? We're going to a toddler's birthday party." "Look, if you wanna look like that that's your choice. I plan on looking like I hunt mythical creatures for a living." 9) "The robbers took everything in my house." "Yeah, but they left your clothes so what do you think that says about them?" 10) "I thought you hated the thrift store." "I did, I thought it was a very sad little place, but then I started designing my own outfit with all the decent things they sell and so now I love the thrift store." 11) "They broke up with you? You?! No, I don't think so. Come with me, we're going to fix you and you're going to show them what they're missing." 12) "They might have more money than me but I'm the one who has clear skin and the ability to not look like trash." 13) "A choker can be something that says it all. It can say 'I'm fun and I love hanging out with my friends' but it can also say 'I only have rough sex' you know?" 14) "You're not my type." "You haven't even turned around to see me." "Didn't need to. I could smell that cheap cologne/perfume from a mile away." "What is your type?" "Rich." 15) "What are you doing?" "Eating take out and watching porn." "What kind of porn?" "Bondage porn." "Oh, that kind of day, huh? Should I come over?" "No, I'll just try to sleep wit you." "You do that even when you're not sad." "Okay, you can come over." 16) "Where are you going with my keys?" "I've got to kill someone." "Okay, make sure you don't get blood on my seats." 17) "No, highlight yellow and highlighter orange are not real colors. Okay? Are you a hunter trying not to get shot or a construction worker? No, you're not. You're trying to seduce someone. So lets get rid of this monstrosity and find something that'll make your eyes look pretty." 18) "I love you very much and it's because I love you that I can say this. Please don't wear that outfit or you will embarrass me." 19) "You just kissed me." "Yeah, I did." "Why? Did I seem like I was drowning or that I needed mouth to mouth? Were you trying to kill a bug with your lips? Why would you kiss me?" "I like you. A lot." "Hahaha...wait, seriously?" "Why's that so hard to believe?" "Because I'm me, people don't like me, they just like looking at me." "Well, I like you. A lot. And if you like me maybe we could get some dinner later or something." "Okay!" 20) "Oh my god, is that a skort? I think I might vomit. Skorts are for children, not adults. Once you hit eighteen you are legally banned from wearing skorts unless you play tennis or something. Do you play tennis? No. I didn't think so. Burn that." 21) "Camo is disgusting and if I ever catch any of you wearing it we are no longer friends." 22) "Your shorts are a little too short." "Yeah? You like it?" "You're attracting a lot of attention." "But am I attracting your attention?" 23) "Oh, wow, that's a bright shade of yellow. Um, why don't we try a few different outfits for fun before we decide on that one, okay?" 24) "Hey, I came as fast as I could, where's the body?" "Actually, I called you for a--you came here prepared to hide a body with me?" "Of course I did, you're my best friend." "Aww!" 25) "I only have sex for free when I like someone, and for you, honey? It'll cost triple what I normally charge."

Blue 1) "I heard the pet store got new puppies and kittens, wanna go see them with me?" 2) "We should go ice skating!" 3) "I love having picnics with you, you always bring my favorite foods." 4) "I love spending time with you." 5) "I think I wanna spend the rest of my life with you." 6) "Are you cold? You can wear my jacket if you want!" 7) "I don't want any of that stuff. I just want you. I've always wanted you." 8) "I wonder what it's like to hug a cloud." "Your hands would go right through it." "Yeah, but I've always wanted to touch one." 9) "Is it okay if we stay a little longer?" "We can stay until close if you'd like." "I just really like looking at the fish." "I know." 10) "Could you hug me for like an hour?" "Yeah, okay, wanna watch a movie while we do that or?" 11) "We have to leave right now. The Easter Bunny is at the store up the road and they're doing pictures." "You're an adult." "Please!!!" "Fine. We can go sit on the employee dressed in a rabbit suit's lap." "Yay! Thank you!" 12) "You can't eat that much cotton candy, you'll make yourself sick." "But it's good!" "You'll get a cavity." 13) "Can we go to the fair?" "We're not riding the toddler rides again. People gave us so many dirty looks last year." "But what about the teacups?" "We can ride the teacups, but none of the other kid ones." 14) "Can we shoot fireworks this year?" "You hate the ones with loud noises." "Yeah, but I like looking at them." "I'll buy earmuffs for you." 15) "Can we paint the side room." "Sure, what color?" "I was thinking like maybe a purple or green. Maybe all the colors." "Like a rainbow room? Why would we do the whole room?" "It'd be fun, it'd be cute for a side room or an office, maybe a baby room." "Baby room?" "Maybe. I mean, if you like that idea." "I think it's a great idea." 16) "Can we get a dog?" "You're an adult, if you want a dog you don't have to ask me." "Yeah, but it's your house too so..." "Yes, we can get a dog. We can go to the shelter tomorrow." 17) "So, I was thinking maybe we could have our wedding during the spring or maybe the summer." "You have bad allergies during those times." "Yeah, but I was thinking we could get fake flowers and I could take some allergy medication and it could still look like a spring or a summer wedding." "I'll start looking at fake flowers." "I'll check venues." 18) "Why are you up so early?" "Look outside! It's snowing!!!" "And you woke me up so we could play in it?" "Uh huh." "One hour and then you let me go back to sleep." "I'll go get my gloves!!" 19) "We have to go to the zoo." "You hate the zoo, you said you don't like seeing animals in cages." "I know but the goats just gave birth to baby goats and they're finally letting them out to be pet today!" 20) "I dream about flying all the time but I never thought I'd actually get to do it." 21) "Thanks for tonight, I had a really great time with you. I hope we can do it again soon." 22) "We should move in together. I mean, if you want." 23) "I don't want to lose you, and it took me a while to realize but I know what I want now. Will you marry me?" 24) "I wouldn't trade you for all the gold, silver, gems, or all the most expensive things in the world." 25) "You really are the love of my life."

Indigo 1) "They're obnoxious and loud and stupid and I can't believe I'm in love with them." 2) "You may be a star but you'll never be as big a star as VY Canis Majoris." 3) "The most fucked up thing I ever learned was that Luna moths don't have mouths or a digestive tract because their sole purpose is to mate. So they live for a week and then die because they starve to death." 4) "I think you have more outfits than you have IQ points." 5) "Can you just stop doing...whatever it is you're doing for like ten minutes." 6) "God you're so annoying, just stop breathing. Please? Just stop." 7) "I wish I were a plant, I wouldn't have to talk or think or do all this shit. I'd just have to soak up sunlight, soak up rain, and take in carbon dioxide. Being a plant really is the fucking dream." 8) "Hey, I heard Person A broke up with you. That sucks. So, um, do you think I could get my Chemistry book?" 9) "Are you still upset about your break up with Person A? You shouldn't be, I've seen their family members, they don't age well. But, um, that neighbor of yours, the cute one, their family looks pretty good. And with your genes you two would have some above average looking children." "Thank you?" "You're welcome." 10) "You know, you're terrible at giving advice." "Yeah, well, I'm not used to being around other humans." "Maybe just say people. Calling other people humans is kind of...weird." "Noted." 11) "Do you want to come to a party with me tonight?" "To what? Drink, embarrass myself, have to listen to terrible music, and interact with people I don't even like?" "Yes." "Pass. I'd rather be here studying plants." 12) "Would you like to go out sometime, on like a date?" "Sure, I guess. You just set up the blind date and I'll do my best. Though, maybe you could find me someone who at least can carry on a conversation with me." "No, I mean would you want to go out on a date with me?" "With you? Why would you want to date me? Don't you have plenty of other options?" "I like you." "We wouldn't work out. You and I are too different. You are good looking and nice and deserve someone who's like you. You don't want someone like me anyways. Besides I'd bore you to death before the appetizers came out." 13) "I care about you." "You? Thought you didn't care about anyone." "I don't. Usually. But I think the reason I care so much is because I like you." "You like me?" "Yeah, it's um... it's a new feeling for sure." 14) "What they said back there. You're not a robot." "No, I am. They're right. It's hard for me to be like the others. I didn't grow up having friends so I didn't know what it was like to care about anything other than school or projects." "You care about me. You said you care about me. Is that true." "Of course it's true." "Then you're not a robot." 15) "You kissed me back there. Why did you do that?" "I was testing a hypothesis." "Oh yeah? What was your hypothesis." "You would kiss me back if I kissed you." "And the results?" "Well, if worked the first time. But a good scientists always checks their work to be sure, right?" "That's correct, yes." 16) "Have you ever kissed anyone?" "I've done a lot of things." "Have you had sex?" "Yes, but it was purely for research. I wanted to know what certain things felt like and what certain things would do for others." "Only you could manage to make sex sound so boring." 17) "Hey, I was--are you watching porn?" "I'm researching for an experiment." "What kind? You gonna see what happens when you put your hand down your pants to that?" "No, I was studying to see if I could tell the difference between a real orgasm and a fake one." "If you wanted to study that you could have just asked me." 18) "Do you think I should socialize more?" "Since when do you care what I think? You're the one with a billion degrees." "Well, you're better with people than I am." 19) "You're hugging me." "Yeah. It's what friends do, they hug." "It's, um, nice. I think." 20) "Yesterday I felt the urge to hug the mailman. Isn't that weird?" "Did you hug the mailman?" "No." "Then it's not that weird. Probably just your body telling you it needs to be touched physically, you know?" "What?" "You crave physical touch." 21) "I think I'm lonely." "Yeah, I think you are too." "Should I start dating?" "Do you want to date?" "Not particularly." "Then maybe just try getting friends." 22) "If I have to spend another evening with that idiot I might lose it." "Is this because they thought photosynthesis had to do with photography?" "Don't remind me." 23) "We're having dinner with my friends tonight." "They hate me." "They don't hate you, you're just smarter than all of them combined." 24) "I can't talk to Person A, they tried to ask me about plant cells and actually thought that I was talking about a cellphone made of plants." "They're not very good at Science, but they like you a lot an they're trying to find ways to talk to you. It's cute. You should give them a chance. Take them to a Science museum." "Like, the ones for kids?" "Yeah. They'll love it." "Fine, but if it starts to go bad I'm texting you to call me and say there's an emergency so I can get out of it." "As long as you give it a try." 25) "They're in love with you, you know? Why do you ruin all your chances at love?" "Because sometimes I'm not sure I'm capable of feeling it."

Violet 1) "You smell like desperation. That a new cologne/perfume or is that just you?" 2) "I'm not here to play nice, I'm here to protect your ass because you couldn't follow simple instructions!" 3) "God, you are so annoying. I can't believe I have to put up with you for six months." 4) "Get your shit, we're getting out of here. I'm not leaving you in this hellhole, alright? Pack your stuff, you're coming with me." 5) "Are we gonna be a family?" "Let's not call it that, let's call it I'm taking care of you for a while alright?" "For how long?" "For as long as you want me to." 6) "Are you gonna be my mom/dad?" "WOAH! No. Absolutely not. I'll be your guardian, okay? And it's only temporary." 7) "Goddamn it, kid, wake up! You can't annoy the shit out of me for months and make me care about you just so you can die like this. I'm not allowing it. Come on, get up, kid. If you get up I'll take you to that Funland place you wanted to go. Anywhere you wanna go. I'll be better to you. I'll...fuck! I'll take care of you for the rest of your life. I'll teach you how to ride a bike and be there for you when you do Science fairs and shit. I'll be your mom/dad." 8) "You're stupid trying to save me like that. You can't swim." "You never taught me how to." "Yeah, well, I'm gonna teach you when we get out of here." 9) "You're evil and manipulative and you're mean and I kinda love that about you, kid. You remind me of me. If you want a place to sleep and food you don't have to dig out of the trash you can stay with me as long as you want." 10) "Can I get a motorcycle?" "Absolutely not, kid. As long as I'm alive the only two wheel thing you'll be riding on is a fucking bicycle." "Well, can I get a bicycle?" "Yeah, we can steal you one later." 11) "You might be the most annoying person I've ever met in the world but I'd die for you." 12) "If you ever come near me or my family I'll fucking kill you. I will bury you in a shallow grave and leave you as food for the worms. Do you understand me?" 13) "You're not going to die here because I'm gonna protect you." 14) "Hey, you trust me don't you?" "Yeah." "Good, you're going to have to disguise yourself. And whatever you do keep your head down, don't talk, and don't let go of me, okay?" 15) "Hey short stack." "You came for me?" "Course I did, did you really think I'd leave you behind?" 16) "I'm coming with you." "You're not." "I am and you can't stop me." "I can handcuff you to that bench over there and leave Person A the keys." "...well I would appreciate if you didn't do that." 17) "Hey there, stranger, haven't seen you in a while." "What the fuck are you doing here?" "Is that really how you greet your best friend?" 18) "Out of my way." "You'll die if you go in there." "And you'll die if I don't go in there." 19) "I'm always gonna be here for you, you know that? 20) "Woah, what's wrong, why are you crying?" "You'll be leaving after this." "Come here, I'm not leaving you after this. I'm staying here with you. Did you really think I'd leave you here all alone? You can barely make toast." 21) "Hey, you can't run off like that again, do you hear me?" "Yeah, whatever-" "No! No, you don't get to whatever me about this. You could have fucking died out there. So you look me in the eye and you promise me you're never going to do that again!" "I-I promise I'll never do it again!" 22) "Look, I'm not your parent so I'm not going to tell you what to do, but that kid you're hanging around is bad news. I've seen their arrest record, you shouldn't be hanging around them. I know they're nice right now but people like that take advantage of nice. I would know. I used to be like them." 23) "I love you. More than anything in the world and that's why I train so hard. I have to train harder because now I have to be stronger. Because now I finally have something worth fighting for." 24) "You can't come with me. You're staying here." "I want to fight!" "You're sick. You need to stay here with Person A, take some medicine, and get some rest." 25) "Hey, watch your mouth, no one talks like that in front of my kid!"

#175 dialogue prompts #color prompts #25 prompts for each color #dialogue prompts #prompts #writer #write #writing prompts #fic prompts #fic inspiration #fic writing

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lonelier-version-of-you · 3 years

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What on Earth was that episode?

After a few weeks of pretty damn good scripts (the storylines still suck, but at least the scripts have been decent), tonight’s Holby returned to mediocrity. Hopefully this isn’t a long-term thing. I have no hope of the show going out on a high, but I want it to at least go out decently, and if the quality just slips back down right when it was finally improving a little bit... that’s not a good sign :/

The Evie storyline... ugh, ugh, ugh. It was actually being handled fairly well last week, but of course, the Holby writers can’t tell issue storylines without piling a load of sensationalist garbage on top (see also: Henrik’s CSA storyline, and the sickening racist stereotyping in it - among the many, many other issues that storyline had), so tonight they returned to form.

I’d ask what sick mind comes up with this stuff, but any of us who have seen any of Kate Oates’ work on other soaps knows the answer to that. This storyline is definitely her doing, and I highly suspect the Henrik storyline was as well. That woman has a weird obsession with writing the most horrible, exploitative rape/sexual abuse storylines possible. Why is she even allowed to work on these shows anymore??

This whole ridiculousness with Fletch punching Rich and Jeni letting Rich deteriorate so she can cover it up and keep pimping Evie out... it’s completely unnecessary, and just shoved in there for extra drama. Again, this is one of Kate Oates’ biggest problems as a storyteller - she doesn’t think issues like this are serious enough in themselves, she has to go and shove a bunch of extra drama in there to up the stakes. For god’s sake.

Also... if I’ve got this straight, Fletch does still think Evie and Rich are dating, right? Like, obviously he doesn’t know about the trafficking, but he does know Evie is “involved” with a much older man? If so, he got over his anger at Rich and concern for Evie remarkably quickly. To the point of snapping at Evie for “thinking a man that age would want anything more than to sleep with her” or whatever. Maybe I’m biased as a CSA survivor myself, but if I were a 40-something man whose 17-year-old daughter was apparently going out with a man around my age, I would be incredibly concerned, recognise that she was being groomed and do my best to help her out of the situation. RIP to Fletch, but I’m different.

Also also, that episode really needed a trigger warning. As did last week’s, tbh. I’m disappointed but not surprised, given there weren’t any trigger warnings for Henrik’s CSA storyline either.

Now I’m done talking about the main plot of the episode, let’s discuss what happened elsewhere:

The “should we let Cameron take part in the trial” debate is ridiculous, as it should logistically all be a moot point. There is NO WAY in a MILLION YEARS that Cameron would ever be treated at Holby. It just wouldn’t happen. Even if he had a medical emergency, like a heart attack or something, surely they would take him to St. James’s.

Chloe actually being asked to work her notice was a surprise. I doubt she’s actually leaving, but it’s nice they remembered that people do actually have to work their notice. I’m pretty sure the last time Holby remembered that was 9 years ago, when we saw Sahira for the final time (the supposed “return” doesn’t count, that character was Sahira in name only, otherwise her storyline had nothing to do with the real Sahira).

Anyway, we got Henrik and Eli in the same scene tonight, so that was nice. Two autistic icons together. *insert thumbs up emoji because I can’t be bothered to copy and paste one* Although, I don’t know what the hell Eli has been thinking WRT the Cameron situation. Or what Henrik is thinking, either, but then again that man is massively incompetent when it comes to handling serial killing doctors (*cough*Gaskell*cough*), so.

The best part of the episode was by far the Jac and Carole stuff. Whoever thought to intertwine their storylines and parallel them like this is a genius. Rosie Marcel and Julia Deakin are both incredible actresses, putting them in a scene together creates utter brilliance. It was lovely seeing Jac show her softer side with Carole, too.

Oh, and I did like Kylie setting up a makeshift prom for her patient and his crush. That was very sweet. Mel’s a bitch for taking the credit though. Damn it Louis, just break up with Mel and get with Kylie already!

#Holby City #Holby City spoilers #tw;csa #tw;rape mention

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weeklyfangirl · 4 years

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Frat Boy Pt. 20

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19

Happy New Year!!!!!! Here’s a party and a hot guy loving on you - and you don’t even have to leave your home ;)

I haven’t been to many therapist offices after I started high school. This one was free, on student-life. Reproduced images of the sea were comforting enough, but it was the dreary stained carpet that reminded me where I was.

“Do you think they’re related to the night you were assaulted?”

“Yes. But I don’t know how to get rid of them. I lose sleep and then when I do sleep, I have these nightmares and I wake up more restless than if I’d just stayed up all night.”

“Hm. And how do you feel about Harry?”

“Harry?”

She nodded. “Yes, the boy in your dreams.” Her French manicured nails squeezed the top of her clipboard.

“That’s not an easy question.”

“Try.”

I sighed. “Okay…” The painted seagull in her office looked like an on-clearance print at TJ Maxx, and suddenly I wished I’d called my mother for her own version of therapy instead. Bargain shopping. “I think I hate him. But then I know I don’t. But then… I don’t necessarily like him either.”

“Do you love him?”

I laughed. “No, I don’t love him.”

“Why do you laugh?”

“I said I almost hated him and you ask me if I love him!” But my voice was a little too loud. The question stayed with me, stirring in my mind. “I think I’d know if I loved him.”

“Love looks different to different people. Finding a healthy version of love for yourself and your partner is where things can go awry. Or right.”

I remembered Harry and I talking at Alta about Madame Bovary, and how I’d told him that people love to the best of their abilities, from what they’ve learnt by their circumstances. Silence weighed in the room, and I knew she was waiting for me to elaborate on my feelings. Bleh.

“I don’t know,” I finally said. “But if this is what love looks like to him… We’re not even technically dating so this question doesn’t even apply!” I laughed again. “But then… even if we were, then... it’s not enough.”

“And what would be enough for you?”

“Stability.”

“And do you think this is possible with him?”

“Umm…” Zayn’s voice popped in my head - Harry was a magnet for infamy - and I laughed. I laughed, and I laughed...“No.”

“And why is that?”

“Because he self-sabotages. And he says things he doesn’t mean.”

“Such as...?”

A puff of breath left my lips. “Like last night, he said I didn’t have a life. And then he was comparing me to another girl. Viv. She’s like his… sister, basically. She grew up with him. But… he got really defensive and said at least she fucks me. But the fact that he said I don’t have a life?? A LIFE?? I mean shit, it’s not my fault he’s infiltrated my dreams is it?”

She shook her head. “It’s very important for you not to blame yourself. Show yourself the same kindness you’d show your friends. Renny, for example.”

Be kind to yourself.

I nodded. Those were the words my mother would say whenever I’d critique myself. Just like all those times before, the words registered, but it didn’t change anything about the frustration I felt. I was the one dumb enough to let him in. I’d let myself be dragged into him, even with every red flag hitting me in the face. I was collecting them for a meme bouquet at this point!

“Do you believe him?” she asked.

It took me a minute to hear her.

“The words he said to you,” she said. “That you don’t have a life.”

A timer beeped on her phone. She muted it. “I’d like you to write out what you want in your life for next time. Not what anybody else wants. But what Y/N wants. When you see it written out, no matter how silly it seems, having concrete answers might help.”

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

I was staring at my notes page, trying to think of what I wanted. I didn’t exactly have the chance to ask her what she meant by that. Did she mean career goals? Education goals? Relationship goals? What did this have to do with ending my nightmares?

A text at the top of my phone distracted me from the blank page.

Kiki: “Don’t worry, we didn’t forget about you. Get your hands on the special airhead pills from Harry’s and bring them to the DG Pretty Please Party next week. On the DL obvi.”

Viv chimed in on the group chat. “Congrats bitch! It’ll be fun for all of us.” She included the devil emoji.

This is what I got for stalling up until the last minute to walk into work. The practice was now a blatant reminder that Harry was out of my life and it didn’t help whenever I saw Lionel. It felt weird that I was seeing his dad more than him. Wrong, even.

Voices carried through the lot along with the clicking of heels. I turned my head.

Boss Lady Samantha was headed towards the elevator.

Shit, Y/N. Shit shit shit.

I got out, quietly closing the door. Better to walk with my boss than walk in late after her, right? Her red hair was let down today, ringlet curls in full effect. I could meet her at the elevator before it arrived.

But right when I was about to shout out hold the elevator Lionel walked right behind her. And I mean RIGHT behind her - there was hardly room for a Bible between them.

I hid behind my car, unsure if I was supposed to be seeing this.

Their voices were too low to hear, but his arm lingered at her lower back before the elevator opened. She got in. Alone. Lionel looked over his shoulder and I ducked further.

Through Grandpa’s windows, I saw the elevator door close. Lionel waved goodbye to Samantha and he pressed the button again.

Before chickening out, my shoulders straightened. I shouldn’t have to be the one hiding. I jogged to make it. His brows shot up in surprise as he held the elevator for me. The kindness I’d gotten used to seeing in his eyes looked hesitant this time.

“A little late today?” he asked, as soon as I’d made it in.

I avoided his eyes, nodded. It was a quiet elevator ride.

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

My family’s house was a ten minute drive from the practice. Enough drive time to sit on what I’d seen outside Coast Shores Medicine. It could’ve been friendly. I didn’t have to do anything about this. But in my bones, I knew that friendly isn’t what I’d seen. Lionel avoided me the rest of the day, assigning me to print out billing statements. I hadn’t seen them make out or anything, but there was a certain intimacy I couldn’t write off right away. Did Mrs. de Saude know about his close work relationships? Did Harry?

The sickening uneasiness dissipated when I heard my parent’s Home Improvement HGTV hour. Dad was already passed out on the couch, snoring at a whopping 8 PM when I walked through the door. Ignoring Mom’s tutting of “they keep you too late,” we went to my bedroom.

“Pick the nude ones,” Mom said, adjusting the spectacles she only pulled out on rare occasions (magazine reading and shoe selections). “It makes your legs look longer.” It looked like there was something more she wanted to say.

I adjusted them in the mirror, wearing the blush dress I’d bought for my aunt’s beach wedding almost a year prior. It’d never been worn. Her Spanish fiancé she’d met three months prior stole her TV set and ran off with his gay lover a week before. As I stood, the dress just barely touched the floor. Simple, really, but the way the thin straps exposed my chest rendered it elegant. I felt like I needed a long cigarette and fur coat to make it complete.

Without context, Mother suddenly burst into an annoyed huff.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Hm?” Her lashes fluttered as if she hadn’t realized she’d made a noise. “Oh, yes. I’m fine. Your father just took another one of those sleeping pills. You should never get too dependent on medication, Y/N. Drink warm milk or something.”

“Mom.”

“I’m serious!” Her stony face certainly wasn’t comical.

“I know.”

She looked me over in the dress again and caught herself, pulling me in for a rushed hug. “I’m sorry,” she breathed. She rocked me a little. “It’s just been a little rough this week.” She squeezed me tighter, then let me go. All negative energy shoved into a box that’d spring open when we all least expected it. “Have a good night tonight. Say hello to Harry for me!”

When I walked to the car she threw out, “And tell him next time he can ask you with a Cartier ring! HA! I’m joking!! ... Kind of!!!”

I smiled, waving to her at the gate as I got into my Grandpa mobile. I didn’t have the heart to tell her Golden Boy wasn’t my date.

---------

There were two cops for every solo cup I could see littered on the ground. They patrolled the streets, but the frat house seemed unphased and restored to its former glory as I walked with Andre. Club music pounded beyond the doors, practically shaking the windows. Girls huddled up outside, holding each other’s hair back and trying to block anyone’s view from the bile, as the guys snickered over their shoulders and some pretended not to see. But the cops weren’t here to reprimand for underage drinking and public intoxication tonight. They were on watch. Stationed around the perimeter of the house and on either end of the street.

They were waiting for something else. For somebody else.

Andre seemed oblivious, practically skipping past them he was so excited. I, on the other hand, was already limping from the nude pumps.

“Wanna switch shoes?” he called back.

“Don’t make a deal you aren’t willing to keep,” I smiled, quirking a brow. “The nude would actually match your navy suit…”

He’d already walked on, fist bumping the bouncer who raised up a professional-grade camera and snapped a photo of us. When my eyes recovered from the flash, I spotted Officer Ramirez from the uniforms just beyond the frat’s ramshackle fence. He was already watching me. He raised two fingers above his brow and I nodded, curtly, even though I wanted to shrink inside myself. I hadn’t had the time to think about what I would say if he contacted me again, or if I should be the one to reach out to him.

Andre led me inside, and for once, I was glad I couldn’t hear my own thoughts. It raised ten degrees just from stepping inside. The boys were in Bond suits, but most had abandoned their jackets wherever they could - on the banister, the couch beneath the staircase, or the entrance hall. The girls had dressed up, too. This was the most covered up I think I’d seen some of them, though others still opted for above-the-knee slips.

“Oi, where’s your drink?!” Niall’s familiar voice shouted above the bass.

He pulled Andre into a side hug before we reached the dancefloor. When he saw me, Niall practically fell over.

“Y/N! What’re you doing here?” He spluttered, whiskey in his breath. The knot of his tie was already to his chest, but he loosened it even more. He looked over his shoulder, then back to me. “Renny’s just gone to the bathroom.”

“She’s my date,” Andre stepped in, placing an arm around my shoulder. It was completely platonic but Niall’s face went to stone.

Suddenly it cracked, and he laughed, running a hand over his stubbly chin. “Oh, shit.” He laughed again. “Shit!”

Andre smiled, unaware of anything else besides the fact that Niall must be proud he showed up with a date. He patted Niall’s shoulder. “We’re going to see the big bro, I’ll find you later.” Andre nodded his head for me to follow, leaving Niall cackling to himself in the entranceway.

“Niall’s THE. MAN,” he put his hands up for emphasis. “He’s my favorite in the house besides my big. We gotta say hi, then you can run off. Oh, Renny’s here too!” He squeezed my shoulders as if to excite me, as if she’d be the reason I’d stay. Loved the girl, but I knew she’d be back on top of Niall five minutes after she was out. I just didn’t want to have to watch.

I wrung my hands together, growing nervous. I knew the reason Niall had reacted that way was because Harry was going to be here. I knew this coming into it. But I’d been expecting him to ignore me the entire night. With Niall’s reaction, I wasn’t so sure anymore. What had Harry told Niall?

Someone sloshed their beer on me as I passed, and I turned sour, rolling my eyes as Andre pushed us forward. I picked up the pace before he could notice I’d stopped and wiped the glare off my face. Or, tried. I probably just looked constipated now.

WHY WAS HIDING EMOTION SO HARD??

I felt bad feeling so annoyed. Andre was excited. I should be excited, right? Sloshed beer and sweaty bodies came with the territory. Though I’d forgotten how humid it got in here. Hell and Florida were probably cooler. I picked up the ends of my dress, hoping for some sort of ventilation to reach parts of me that were on the verge of overheating.

The coffee tables and couches had been moved from the center of the living room to the fringes beneath the stairwell to make designated smoking and dancing sections. I could’ve stayed on the outside of the dance crowd. Hell, I could’ve joined the spaced-out smokers on the couch. But I didn’t. I followed Andre to the middle of the dance floor. I could barely see above the tops of people’s heads until we reached a bit of a clearing. And by clearing, I meant the sweaty dancers in front of us who made a break for freedom and gave us about ten seconds of space before other bodies rushed to fill it.

I felt him before I saw him. A tiny prick of consciousness that directed my gaze. And Andre’s finger.

“AYYYY!!!!!” Andre pointed to the DJ booth, waving his hands as he hollered.

Even with the rocking vibration of the bass that chattered my teeth, each nerve in my body went alert. Harry stood, flashing a white smile to the crowd before downing the rest of whatever potion was in his cup. I hated how my stomach clenched just by seeing him. He saw Andre and his smile grew, grabbing the mic. I was still unnoticed, hidden by dim lighting and nameless peers.

“Who’s ready for us to win tomorrow!?” His voice was low, demanding. It was a question for the crowd, but he was looking at Andre. I could sense the intensity even there, and it was then I realized it couldn’t be just me who feels so vulnerable around Harry. Each person he traps in his gaze stays there, until he lets them go.

The house erupted in cheers, but I was locked in place. The suit he was wearing looked similar to the one from the Halloween gala, and every bit of him looked just as stunning. His beautiful body swayed on the makeshift stage.

“Then let’s see you jump in-” His hand held up 5, 4, 3, 2… He spun another song and the crowd sprung from the floor before crashing back down. They jumped to the beat he made. A modern-day puppet master.

Andre wrapped an arm around me as he jumped. So I did, too.

“That’s my big!!” he yelled, mid-air.

“WHAT??”

He pointed to the DJ booth, but there was no one there besides Harry.

“.... HARRY??! HARRY’S YOUR- your…” I stopped jumping the same second Harry saw us together. It’s funny. It takes only a second to flip a dime on its head. His party boy mask dropped in an instant. The low lighting turned his eyes black, but they couldn’t conceal the daggers he shot straight at me.

“I have to use the bathroom,” I muttered.

Andre nodded. “S’UP THE STAIRS!” He found a friend nearby and latched on to him instead.

The small (okay, medium) part of me filled with nothing but Petty™ wanted Harry to see me with his little. But another part of me couldn’t handle his judgmental glare. Somehow, I was embarrassed. I didn’t want him to think I’d come here tonight to make him jealous. That I was so obsessed with him I’d found another in to the frat. I didn’t want him to think he controlled any part of my heart. What did it say that I ran away at first sight, though?

I’d already done it. It didn’t matter. Either way, I didn’t win.

I raced upstairs, weaving my way between couples sitting on the stairs, hoping that the line for the restroom was really long and Renny hadn’t already left. It was, and she was next in line.

“Oh my God, what are you doing here?!” she screeched, arms out and eyes squinted until I could no longer see her pupil.

“Why do people keep asking me that.”

She pulled me into an extra-long, extra-tight Renny hug. “Love yousoooomuch,” she rushed. Her breath smelled like Niall as she pulled away. She lifted the cup to my lips and I shook my head. She frowned.

“I talked with Niall,” she said. “He says Harry’s just going” - she hiccupped - “through a lot right now. S’best to leave him alone.”

The other girls in line perked up at the mention of his name, subconsciously leaning closer. I huffed. “Trust me. I am.”

When three girls stumbled out of the only bathroom stall, Renny rushed in. “Thank God I was about to pee on the carpet.” She tried tugging me in with her, but my eye was on the end of the hall. And the stupid DG pretty please.

“I’ll be back,” I muttered, squeezing her hand.

“Nooooo,” she drawled.

I squished her cheeks, checked her pupils. She didn’t need me to hold her hair back this time. I gave her cheek a lil slap.

“I’ll go with you next time you have to go. Which will be in like... twenty minutes. You broke the seal rookie!” I teased.

I didn’t even bother looking over the railing at the party below to see if he was watching me. I still had my DG task and a nonrefundable deposit to think about. I didn’t think I’d get many chances to be in this house again unless I swindled Andre or Niall into letting me in. But that would require an explanation, and I wasn’t sure I could tell them that.

Forget explanations. I needed to do it now. Lots of noise. Tons of distractions. I’d just think of it as… borrowing?

His door was locked and I groaned, kicking it and leaving a smudge beside all the others. I reached for a bobby pin in my purse and put it to work. I’d done it before in his bedroom, I could do it again here. The curve of the hallway protected me from onlookers waiting in line in the bathroom. Downstairs was a mixed bag. People could probably see through the railings running along the top floor.

Not that they’d think to look.

My knees were starting to hurt by the time I heard it click. I crept in, and for some reason, I expected his room to look different. But it was still the same. Dusty desk across from a queen-sized bed. Only one photograph atop his bedside mantle. And it didn’t smell like sweaty soccer clothes, but clean. With hints of a woodland spice and books. It felt like eons had passed since I was first here, undressing him like the drunken baby he’d been. As an act of betrayal, my body rushed at the thought of how his fingers had looped around my belt loops, tugging me closer. I swallowed, the image of his tightened pants expanding in my head. He’d almost been hard, then.

It was then, at that moment, that I decided that the one sip of alcohol I’d had must have been spiked with SOMETHING because I would NOT be that girl. I would NOT. I reFUSED TO LET MYSELF-

Seconds later, my fingertips grazed his soft gray sheets. He’d been sprawled out right about here, and the rush of seeing unseen skin on Harry had been too intoxicating an offer to refuse. The ghost of that rush flowed through me again as my memory played it over like a movie. Close-ups and panning shots - Down his toned chest to tattoos speckled along tan skin, tattoos that had been seemingly doodles, but now held much more meaning now that I knew of his history with the ocean. For his sister. My body leant down before I knew what I was doing, and I inhaled. The lingering aroma of his body chemistry altering his cologne: musky, a little spice, and warmth.

Even if every ounce of me wanted to dislike him, the legitimate biology behind my body responded to a chemistry I couldn’t control.

“What are you doing?”

He caught me on my knees, with one hand clutched in the sheets.

Fuckity FUCK-

He could whip out PSYCHO magazine informing people of highly-dangerous murderers with my mugshot plastered across the cover - and I’d believe him in that moment. Oh my gosh. Omgomgomg. He didn’t say what I expected him to say when he swayed in, though.

“Andre. Really?” He laughed to himself, but it was cold. “Fucking” - he stumbled, leaning on the desk chair to catch himself- “really?”

It wasn’t the alcohol that’d put him on edge. I’d seen him handle liquor before, but this time he looked… different. I stood up, realizing his eyes were racking down my dress. I crept towards him, hoping to make it past the door. Not because I was scared of him. But because I was mortified. I’d just looked like an absolute fucking psychopath AND I’d snuck into his bedroom. Maybe I could distract him. Maybe he was too drunk to ask me-

“What’re you doing here?”

“What are we… all doing here? At parties?”

“…in my room,” he clarified.

Welp. My philosophical question fell flat. Wouldn’t be the first time.

I waltzed past him, tight-lipped. In defense of my dignity, I still didn’t owe him anything. Not after how he’d treated me.

“Hey,” his arm jutted out, blocking my way. His brows crossed as he turned to a petulant boy. “S’rude to not answer.”

My blood boiled. “You are not about to give me a lesson on how bad it is to ignore people right now. Nor on being rude.”

“Can give you another one.”

He reached for me, but I stepped back, somewhat living in the hurt that flashed in his eyes at my rejection.

“You’re not leaving.” But his demand sounded like a plead.

“Thought you didn’t want me around you,” I scoffed, tearing past him. “Just because you’re drunk or high or whatever the fuck it is you are right now, doesn’t mean you can just… get a free pass! For a week! A whole week of awful-” I turned quickly, too frustrated to find the words. I took a step towards the door but-

“Y/N.” He was right behind me. His breath warmed the nape of my neck, the delicate hairs standing on end. No matter how much of an absolute mess he was, my body didn’t know better. I could practically feel him behind me, his presence radiating an alarm that blared through my veins. I wanted him. Badly. He trailed a finger down my arm, and his hand brushed against my own against my side. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

His fingers gingerly interlaced with mine, turning me around.

Something wet was on my cheek. I touched it, quickly rubbing it away in horror. Why were tears running down my face?! What unfair cruelty was this!? He saw my tears and leant down, suddenly defeated, pulling my body with him.

“Why did’ya ever want me hm?” His nose went along my jaw. Full lips pressed against the base turned my legs weak. There was an underlying desperation to his words though, a prayer in his kiss. But my thoughts were turning anything but holy.

“Who says I did…” I wanted to pull away, ask him why he’d used past tense or why he’d completely ignored me this past week, but I was frozen by the softness of his hands. Self-respect was surely slipping away each moment I lingered. I could literally see Jane Austen parting the heavens and sticking her angelic head through Harry’s room to shame me with a glare. I do all this mental work to try and figure this guy out and… for what? I should be waltzing out that door, declaring I’d never talk to him again. I should give up messy and confused and pursue my own sanity. But the air only ever turned electric with him, in all his messiness, in all this confusion… and each time the spark appeared, it pushed us closer together until he was here, like this, soft hands gently running along my lower back, skilled fingertips feeling the dress fall slightly inwards at my waist, tracing a map of uncharted waters…

“You’re not thinking straight,” I breathed. And that went for both of us.

“Au contraire, I’m thinking clearer than I ever ‘ave.” There was a swirling madness shining through, but he bat his eyes and it was veiled again, vanished beneath the dark surface. He tilted his head, appraising my body, noticing my legs were no longer tensed to run, but in apprehension for another reason completely. A smirk settled in. “Why do you still want me?” he demanded, pulling me against him towards the bed.

“Arrogant ass,” I sniped, but I landed on him anyway. His fingers tightened around my waist, a hand snaking up behind to entwine with my hair. I felt him harden beneath me as he pulled my head to the side, just the right amount of rough. But he stalled over vulnerable skin, lips ghosting featherlight up to my ear. He let out a soft breath and I clenched in anticipation. For once, I had no thoughts. “You should be with me,” he breathed. “Should be mine.” His voice grew frustrated and he practically growled, lips kissing my neck, steady, before they started to suck in a rhythm. The shock of the sensation masked the shock from his words and my back arched, a spider’s shiver crawling down my spine. He stopped suddenly, shooting back like he’d been shocked. His grip softened ‘round the nape of my neck, and he looked so… confused. “Can’t mark you again,” he noted, despondent. But then the corners of his lips twitched up in a smirk. “Least where it’s visible.” My breath caught. His black ink eyes showed the slightest ring of green. I don’t remember lifting my hand, but fingers trailed along dark circles. These were a new development. I shook my head lightly. Something was wrong. This was wrong. I leant in, resting my head against his. “Harry-” but his lips cut me off before I could mention it.

I felt like I’d been feeling his lips everywhere but my own. They were eager, but kept pace, switching it up just when I was getting comfortable, slowing to make me feel the soft fullness of raspberry-pink lips. They were pillows, and clouds, and everything else soft and wonderful that I’d want to feel forever. He slipped in his tongue, deepening the kiss, and I ground my body against him, using his shoulders as leverage.

This wasn’t me. But I didn’t care enough to think about ‘who I was’ anymore. What did I want?

I felt him pulse between my legs.

“Harry,” I bit my lip, and I knew then. I’ve been wanting more, I’ll always want more. I was more aware than ever of an emptiness he could fill.

“Been hard ever since I saw you bouncing in that dress,” he said gruffly. “With fucking Andr- ahh...fuck.” I rocked my hips against him in spite, putting a hand over his mouth to shut him up.

But his head jutted back and came forward again. He looked at me through hooded eyes, and just like that I was sedated by his gaze, my body pausing. He looked like he was about to scold me. “Do it again.” His voice was low. I stalled, looking at the way his lips barely parted. “Don’t be shy now, Y/N.” My hips replied on command, but rebelliously, slowly, feeling the length of him run between the thin underwear that’d cocooned itself against my ridges and folds. I ran my hips back down against his thigh. “Fu-uhck-” He jutted his hips up, turning something wicked when I moaned. The friction from the dress and pressure from my own body rocking against Harry built a tightly coiled knot I wanted desperately to release. And then we were kissing again. Fervent. Eager. A skilled tongue slipping in to dance with my own. He was rock hard against me. I could feel the full outline pressed tight against his slacks now, creating my own mental map. My hands wrapped in his hair, and I pulled, relaxing our pace, rutting myself up with purpose to rotate in a circle at his clothed tip. The noise from his throat wasn’t human, and I felt heavy and light all at the same time when his thumb dug into my chin just under my lower lip.

“Wanna help you,” he rumbled. “Will you let me? Won’t you do that for me?”

I nodded, wordlessly, and with both hands tight on my hips, he tugged us further back until he was against the pillows, and me, repositioned above him. He pulled us down and we built a rhythm against his thigh, the determination in his stitched brow as he did half the work making it even sexier. He was almost needier than me. There was an urgency to his strong hands as they hiked up my dress, fingertips dancing around and just beneath the band of my underwear. He didn’t pull it off, just gently pushed my hips up and down, then harder, faster, to the damp patch already on his slacks. I was buzzing, every inch of me, the wound coil growing bigger, tighter, the build of release making my heart race. He stared at me as we moved together.

“Tha’s it. So good at this,” he mumbled. “So beautiful.”

My breath caught, and his wide eyes watched wondrously as I moved frenzied above him. His chest rose, bits of tattoo spilling past the white button-down collar. My hand clutched his shirt as I felt myself begin to peak. This was as intimate as I’ve been with someone, and the pressure of being seen through his eyes like this was a lot of pressure. I didn’t want to think about how many other girls had been in this position before. What he spoke to them, how they looked, what they’ve done, or how recently they’d done it. His hand cupped my face and brought me down, lips claiming me to the point of bruising and silencing voiceless thoughts. The pull of his lips, and the sturdiness of his thigh made me whimper. My swollen bud hit his clothed cock with each surge upwards, his hands guiding me, making sure my breath hitched each time. And each time, I’d feel him tense. Again, and again, just knowing his thick hard cock was against me, right against me, almost…

“Almost… Harry…”

“Y/N,” he rasped. I felt his hot gaze as I shuddered above him. He kissed me, slow, swallowing another whimper as a current of electricity ran from the crown of my head to my toes. His hands helped me ride out my high, slowly coming to a halt.

He opened his arms, letting me cuddle up against his chest. Silence stretched on over quiet breathing. “Been waiting a long time for that,” he finally mumbled. I quirked an eye open, realizing he’d been watching me. I almost didn’t recognize his eyes. For once, they seemed sated. Unhaunted. The clouds had seemed, for a moment, to have parted. “To see you cummm.” He hummed the last word, leaning down and nuzzling the nook of my neck. Still nuzzling, he quirked half his face to look at me. We shared a long kiss, then a shorter one to my forehead. “You’re magnificent.”

Though I hadn’t removed a stitch of clothing, I hadn’t felt more naked. And for all the times I’d felt embarrassed around Harry, at least in this moment, he made me feel comfortable about what we’d just done. We lay there, my scent now mingling with the rest of his in the room. I still felt him hard beneath my legs that were strewn across his lap, and I wondered if it was … painful. He stirred, placing one hand behind his head, the other wrapped around me.

I traced shapes into his chest. He hummed, smiling softly. It was his boyish smile. The one I’d hardly seen, the one that you want to wrap up and cuddle and protect from the world to keep this one second of pure happiness intact. I pecked the corner of his mouth and his smile broke, squeezing my side. “Thank you,” he mumbled. I checked to make sure his eyes were still closed when I looked down at the black slacks. Since I finished, he should, too. I swallowed nervously as my fingers traced lower, down the button down as I tried to remember the porn Renny and I had watched together one late summer night. His eyelashes fluttered open, and he watched me, curiously, darkly, until I stopped at the tip of his pants. I slipped my fingers beneath the belt, just barely feeling the coarseness of hair before he took my wrist in his hand. He practically hissed and I stilled, not noticing I was holding my breath. I couldn’t possibly be doing this wrong…

His index finger stroked the top of my hand, and I relaxed.

He looked at me gently. “Tonight was for you. S’all I wanted.” His touch was just as gentle, and he placed his thumb between my lips, running over them gently. I didn’t want him to see me as some pure untouched thing he should be scared to do anything with. My lips parted as seductively as I could make them appear, and I moved to let his finger in my mouth, but he cheekily closed my lips instead.

He stroked my cheek, almost giggling at my attempt. “This just isn’t how I picture it happening.”

The way his eyes were memorizing my lips told me he’d thought about this before, but I didn’t miss that he said how, and not where. Muffled EDC music vibrated his door, and faraway voices travelled through his open window from the yard below. The cops were waiting there, too. Was that the situation he was referring to?

“You deserve a lot, Y/N.”

I heard the hesitancy in his voice, some unforeseen disappointment he wouldn’t just spell out for me. “What’re you saying.”

“Just that there’s few things I want t’be sober for these days.”

The thought hit my stomach like the sharpened blade of a knife, and it hurt worse than any wound from my nightmares. “Why would you say something like that?” I demanded.

“Because it’s true.” His eyes searched mine, and I saw the sadness pulling him in. Like the tumultuous water of the middle of the ocean spirally inwards into itself. A treacherous water hole that’d carry you into its deepest abyss.

I shook my head as if to find a way out, as if that would clear away what I was seeing. “I never… know what’s going on with you,” I admitted. I thought to the interaction with Lionel and Samantha. “Is home life really that bad?”

“What home?” He huffed when I looked at him. “M’serious. I feel more alone when I walk in there than I do when I’m here. And nobody even fucking knows me here.”

“Everyone knows you.”

“You’re smarter than that, Y/N.”

“What’d you take tonight, hm?” I cooed. My hand traced the dark circles under his eyes, and he leant against my touch before looking to the window, still allowing me to touch him. No doubt from whatever stimulant or depressant he’d taken, his words had been more candid than ever before.

“A cocktail of sorts. Will fucking regret it in the mornin’. Probably.”

He looked back to me, and I didn’t have time to wipe the concern from my face. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter,” he stated.

He really believed it when he said it, and the way there didn’t seem to be enough energy left in him made me settle back in his arms with a frown. Because it did matter. It mattered a lot. A few moments later, he squeezed my sides. “You didn’t answer my question,” he mumbled.

“What question?”

He waited until I looked up at him, and even then he was hesitant. His voice was quiet when he spoke, intimate, so if even if someone was standing at the foot of the bed they couldn’t hear what he was about to ask.

“Why do you want me, Y/N?”

The vulnerable question hung in the air. And though it was presumptuous of him to ask, he wasn’t wrong. His eyes read me like a book he’d read a hundred times over. He saw me. I swallowed, my brain and heart at an all-out war. Unfortunately for me, they captured my tongue in a stale-mate. “I don’t know what I want.”

And it was true. The dilemma was the following:

The only thing my body wanted was him.

But my brain didn’t know if that’s what I should be wanting anymore.

And my heart was left in the middle of them both, not sure what it was feeling.

I felt him shrug. “I get it. I have so many opinions shouting at me in my head right now. About soccer, my fucked family, about” - he threw his hands between us.

After Niall had greeted me at the door, I was sure Harry had talked about us in some capacity. But how many people had opinions on our relationship? “Let me guess. Viv shares her opinion about us.”

“I don’t listen to hers.”

“But hey, at least she fucks you right.”

He sucked in a breath, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean that.”

“But it’s true, right? So no need to apologize.”

The room froze over. Just the thought of her whispering in his ear was enough to trigger an entire week’s worth of pent-up animosity.

“So maybe people are confused why Viv and I aren’t together but I couldn’t give a fuck about what they think. I fucking hate that we’re even talking about her right now.”

“What do they say?”

He rolled his eyes, hurriedly slanting his voice, “Viv’s gorgeous mate, she clearly wants you. What the fuck are you doing now?”

I flinched. He noticed. “Look, I seriously hate talking about this. Can we talk about the fact that I didn’t invite anyone tonight?”

“Aw, was Viv busy?”

“Alright, stop.”

A chill shot down my spine at the rejection. As much as I wanted to appreciate the fact he didn’t invite anyone, it didn’t help. This wasn’t helping at all. “I’m sorry if I want to talk about your relationships that directly affect me,” I said, rolling out of his arms.

“Y/N, please. It’s not like that.” His voice was tired, pleading, coaxing me to forget.

“But why are you like this? Why did you just say what you did to me?”

“You asked me-”

“It was very belittling.” I changed my voice to a dopey British accent, “Viv’s gorgeous what the fuck are you doing with Y/N?” I ignored his scowl. “Really, thanks for the best compliment of the night.” I pushed against his chest, annoyed. “And why are you being like this now? All cuddly and-”

“It’s not one-sided.”

I felt my cheeks heat. “Not tonight. But it’s one-sided any other time.”

“S’that what you really think of me?” He pulled me closer, and I fought the urge to twist away. His forehead pressed into my hair. “Firstly, you’re fucking beautiful Y/N. You have to know this. And you have to know you’re important to me. And secondly…”

“Thirdly,” I corrected.

His eyes turned somber. “They’re watching,” he mumbled, pleading. “This is hard for me, too.”

The gang, the cops, both, whichever it was, it didn’t matter. The effect was the same. No matter how special he claimed I was to him, we always went in circles. Maybe he had gotten it right. Maybe it was better for both of us if we weren’t together. “Why is it so hard then?” I whispered.

“Nothing good comes easy.”

I remained silent. It was a cop-out response.

He ran a hand down his face and sat up. “Because I’m fucked! I’m fucked, Y/N and there’s only so many people I can hide from. And you aren’t one of them.”

It was the most candid he’d ever been with me, without revealing anything at all.

A knock sounded at the door.

I went to move, but he kept me against him, covering my ears as he shouted-

“FUCK OFF!!”

But even with his hands over my ears, it wasn’t very muted. The knock grew louder, more obnoxious.

“Sorry,” he grumbled, moving to open the door. When it opened, a boy wearing a snapback around the same height as Harry leant against the doorframe.

“Wassup, man-” Snapback almost burst in.

Harry’s back went stiff as the stranger’s snapback practically poked Harry in the eye. If their overcompensating confidence and too-familiar smile told me anything – freshmen. At least Snapback’s friend wore a Bond-inspired bow-tie t-shirt.

Harry put a hand to Snapback’s chest, backing him back out of the room. They watched me walk up behind him.

“Hey, relax man, we just wanted to get some zombies,” Bowtie bargained.

“You’ve got some fucking balls,” he snarled.

My ears pricked. He was looking for the same thing, then. From Harry. My heart sunk to the lowest part of my belly after remembering why I’d come here in the first place. The sliver of hope I’d had was that maybe what Zayn had witnessed was just Harry’s past. A summer blunder. A summer fling with an illegal hobby. You know, some kids did drugs, some kids sold drugs... It was a ridiculously stupid comparison now that I thought about it. But still, I had hope. Now my undeniable denial was being shred up right in front of me.

The cops, the gang, the drugs circulating campus…

Harry had made his bed, and I was lying in it.

I squeezed past him.

“Wait, are you leaving?” He still blocked his doorway.

I ignored the pang of guilt I felt at his boyish disappointment. He looked at me, body still intimidatingly rigid, but his eyes, impossibly soft. Snapback tried to move past him again and Harry whipped his head back with a growl. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Excuse me?” Bowtie came closer, puffing out his muscled chest. Testosterone, angst and alcohol were never the best combination. I grew nervous at the tension, looking from my escape at the end of the hall, back to Harry.

“C’mon, we have the cash. We’ll pay double!” Snapback whined, cornering him.

The words made me nauseous, conjuring the image of Viv sliding Harry the cash. I didn’t want to see this again. I didn’t want to see anything again.

“I don’t do that shit anymore.” He strode through their barricade, determined, but Bowtie tugged him back. His nostrils flared and I could tell he was trying to keep his cool. He could ruin these guys if he wanted to. I don’t know why he was letting them keep him. But I also didn’t know why I didn’t run away. It was like watching a train wreck seconds before it happened.

I stood alone, in the center of the hall, the only person on Harry’s horizon. A lighthouse hoping to steer the sailor home.

“C’mon, please man, everyone’s talking about them. We just need one,” Snapback exhorted. He put up his hands, pleading. “We’ll split one. We’ll seriously cut it in half.”

Even from here, I could see the muscles in his neck tense. I tried doing to him what he did to everyone else. I trapped him, wide-eyed, anchoring him to me. He didn’t break our stare.

As if each word scraped against his skull, “I said I don’t do that shit.”

“That’s a fucking joke. Mark got some last week,” Bowtie barked.

I saw the moment I lost him. In what world I thought I could be enough to harbor him, I had no idea. Harry snapped, kicking the steroid-pumped kid so hard in the knee, it knocked him down. It wasn’t a broken bone, but it’d leave one hell of a bruise.

“Dude, are you crazy?!” Snapback cried.

Harry raised his fist, bringing it flying. I gasped and hid my face. But I didn’t hear an impact. I faced them again.

Harry’s fist froze inches before his cheek. Facing what would have been a badly broken nose, Bowtie shook on the floor. Slowly, ever so slowly, Harry relaxed his hovering fist and folded his arms, squatting next to the quivering guy. “You’re fucking welcome I was in a good mood ‘fore you came, otherwise I wouldn’t be acting so polite.”

The squeak of a floorboard shook Harry back to Earth. He caught me walking away and his whole body straightened, once again hyper-focused on me, trying to tune in and trap me exactly where I stood. Taking advantage of his distraction, Snapback and Bowtie ran for it. Bowtie limped, running into me and knocking me off-balance as he passed.

In a second, it was just us.

“Y/N,” he began, walking towards me cautiously.

“No.”

He stopped in his tracks. He was tall, but his shoulders hung in despondent defeat.

“You were right, Harry.”

I could see how tired he was. I could see the broken pieces fitting into something beautiful. He looked so sad and regretful, I already felt guilty for saying,

“You can’t hide anymore.” And with one last look at the broken boy before me, “You are fucked.”

Suddenly, the beer on the floor was just stale and sticky. The couches were filthy from strangers’ mistakes. And the air would never be clear. Harry had been right. This entire house was filled with people who didn’t care and if they did, they were trying to forget; a place more empty than if it were vacant. It was a mess just like the boy living in it. And just like the grand house, impressive at first glance, not all of his parts were beautiful.

I ignored the way his broken pieces seemed to shatter as soon as I said it and the way it hurt me ten-fold. I ignored him calling out my name as I maneuvered through the blur of bodies, until I lost his voice on the dance floor. I could breathe better outside and I walked past the cops without acknowledging them.

From complete chaos to relative quiet, my ears rung, filling the new silence.

Maybe this was the last time we’d speak. Maybe this was how it all should’ve ended that first day in September. Because in that house, that wasn’t the Harry I thought I’d knew. That was a boy far-gone, confused, and I was falling down with him. I was ANGRY. I PITIED him. And I was angry for feeling something else I should never have felt for him.

Somehow, in this fuzzy ringing world buzzing with heated thoughts and cop lights that blurred my vision, I heard a notepad scribble as soon as I passed a squad car.

Lucky for me, Momma always said I had selective hearing.

part 21

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kalypsichor · 4 years

Text

and they were quARANTINED [a beatles fic] - ch 1

summary: George takes a shit. Ringo braves a trip to the tescos and loses a bit of his soul. John harrasses the general public and Paul’s just trying to get them home before they kill each other. All while a virus tears the world apart.

warnings: CRACK (not cocaine), geo’s bad potty habits, ringo’s copious use of emojis

so, this is different... but i’ve always been a crack fic writer at heart. this is the result of being quarantined myself due to COVID-19. i’ve been seeing so much fear and frustration and hatred that i just wanted to write about it kinda cathartically. enjoy!

Unfortunately, George doesn’t realize that they’re out of toilet paper until after he’s taken a shit.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Ringo?”

No answer.

“Ringooooooooo. RINGO!!!”

George’s legs are starting to lose feeling. He bounces them up and down a bit and the motion almost makes him drop his phone in the toilet.

“RICHARD FUCKING STARKEY!”

There’s the sound of footsteps and then a pause before Ringo answers.

“What’s up?”

“What took you so long?”

“Had my headphones in. Sorry I couldn’t be at your beck and call, O Lord of the Loo.”

“SHUT up. Look, do we have any more loo roll?”

A pause. “Why, are we out?”

George rolls his eyes so hard he sees stars. “No, I’m askin’ for the banter.”

“I’ll go check. Don’t move!”

George can almost see the shit-eating (heh) grin on his mate’s face as he walks away. With a sigh and some choice curse words that would make Louise cry, George pulls out his phone again. Opens Twitter. Sees yet another tweet from that spraytanned clown across the pond. Closes Twitter and contemplates deleting it. After about three rounds of this, Ringo comes back and knocks on the door.

“We’re all out. Got you some tissues, though.”

Krishna help me. George tips his head back against the wall and thumps it a few times for good measure.

“Thanks,” he says flatly. “Could you- ?”

The door opens just a smidge before he can finish talking there’s a flying blur of Kleenex box, a blinding pain in the side of his head, and a sickening crACK—

***

“I’m really sorry,” Ringo says for the millionth time, hovering over George as he examines the spiderweb of cracks on his phone screen. George huffs. He wants to be mad, he really does, but Ringo’s face is doing that stupid thing where his eyes are very, very blue and droopy and his teeth are worrying his bottom lip and it’s obvious that he’s genuinely remorseful and—fuck, he’s got it bad.

“It’s fine,” George insists, even though he can hear his bank account having a fit. “Piece of shit phone, anyway. And look, it still works!” Very shittily, his brain adds, but that’s what you get with a five year old phone.

The older boy’s eyes still have an unconvinced, sad look about them and George wishes he could kiss it away. No homo, though.

“How can I make it up to you?” George’s brain does a slutdrop into the gutter. “I’ll… I’ll get the groceries! How ‘bout that?”

“NO!” Scrambling off the couch, George just barely misses smacking noses with Ringo. “What about the… the virus?”

“I’ll wear a mask and all. Wash hands for twenty seconds, stay six feet away from people… am I missing anything?”

“Yeah, the quarantine bit.”

Ringo snorts and puts a hand on George’s arm. “Quit your worrying, Geo. I’ll be fine. Haven’t John and Paul been out all day?”

***

John and Paul want to go the fuck home. They’d walked all the way to a new art gallery opening only to find out it was cancelled (“Why didn’t you check Google?” “Why didn’t you?”). And now, both being tired as hell from their long trek, they couldn’t even flag down a single cab to take them home.

“This is the worst thing ever,” John cries, flopping his entire body down on a park bench. Paul rolls his eyes and lifts up John’s stupidly long legs so he can sit down as well.

“People are dying, John.”

“I feel like I’m dying.”

“John.”

“Okay, fine, maybe I’m being dramatic. But this stupid… thing… is fucking up all our plans!”

“It’s not fucking Voldemort, you can say the name.”

“Alright, fine. Coronavirus. CORONAVIRUS. You happy, Paul?”

A woman hurrying by shoots them a wide-eyed, nervous look and crosses the street, tugging a little boy by the hand.

“... bitch.”

“Jesus, John.” Paul pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’d do that too if some rando was shouting in the streets.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t hafta shoot that nasty look at us… did you see that? Paul?”

“Hold on, hold on.” His phone is vibrating in his pocket and he fumbles to pull it out. “Your stupid legs are in the way.”

John huffs and makes a show of wiggling said legs, almost kicking Paul in the face. Still, he tucks them to his chest (flexible, Paul thinks and then instantly regrets) so that Paul can take out the buzzing rectangle.

bongo: do u or john want anything? 🤔🤔

bongo: like groceries

bongo: going to tescos

Shouldnt you be quarantining?

bongo: ur literally at an art museum 😂

It’s a gallery

And it got cancelled :/

bongo: oop sorry m8 thats tough

bongo: srsly tho whaddaya want

We need more vegetables. Carrots, etc

“Tell him to get cornflakes,” John says, peering over Paul’s shoulder. He’s sat up and practically draped over Paul’s lap. Paul sighs and shoves his legs off, ignoring the indignant squawk the other boy makes when he almost falls off the bench.

Also that cornflake cereal stuff

bongo: k

bongo: tell john i said hi

Heyyyyyy rich wots up

Paulie’s being a bitch he pushed me :((((

Why is his auto caps on lsdnfol

“Give it back!”

“Ow! Ow stop hitting me Jesus fuckin-”

Sorry that was john

bongo: yeah i could tell lmao

bongo: where are u guys??

Stuck at some park. Can’t get any cabs home

bongo: well duh coronavirus 😷😷😷

bongo: bad time to be a cabbie man 😔

Yeah yikes

Pick up some rice for george too

And hand sanitizer

bongo: ill try but twitter says handsan itizer is going fast

bongo: what the fuc why did it space like that

Lol

bongo: oh also

bongo: geos being a mother hen and making me wear a face mask

bongo: u know where they are?

Second drawer down in the bathroom, behind the rubber gloves

bongo: … how did u reply SO fast

Uh i know where things are in our flat? Like a normal person?

bongo: thats sus but ok

bongo: wow theyre actually here

bongo: okay imma head out before it gets dark

What’s after dark? Zombies?

bongo: u never no

bongo: *no

bongo: FUCKING *KNOW

Nice

Okay stay safe ritch

bongo: 😘🙃👍🏼✌🏼✌🏼🌈🌟🥦🥦🥦☮️

***

Ringo has never seen this many people at Tesco in his entire life. Two grown men are having a full on argument in the pastries. A harried-looking dad almost knocks Ringo into a rack of Twinkies, pulling along two screaming kids with one slung on his hip. And… is that person actually wearing a Hazmat suit??

“This is insane,” Ringo mutters to himself, slightly muffled due to the face mask. He just needs to find the loo roll and then he’s going to yeet outta here ASAP.

Okay, hygiene aisle… here we g—what the—

The entire aisle is empty.

It’s like a goddamn Old Western. Just add a cow skull… cue the tumbleweed… and it would be perfect.

Not for the first time that day, Ringo sends a prayer to whoever is listening above. There’s got to be something left. He walks down to the end of the aisle. Walks back. Jumps a couple times to check if there’s anything on the top shelf. Sincerely hopes no one just saw him do that. Finally, shoved at the very back behind a couple of Always boxes, Ringo digs out a dusty as shit six-pack of toilet paper.

Well. It’ll have to do.

As he’s walking to the check out lines, a woman drops her bottle of hand sanitizer. It rolls across the floor in a perfect arc and Ringo scoops it up before it can get too far.

“Oops, you dropped this!” He says cheerily, handing it to her. Well, trying to. The woman makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat, physically flinches away from his outstretched hand, and almost drops the rest of her groceries. Before Ringo can react, she’s disappeared behind the produce aisle.

Ringo’s arm falls to his side. He stares at the space where she was just a second ago and holds in a scream.

“More for us, I guess.”

***

By the time Ringo reaches the flat, he’s ready to never see another person again. He trudges right past George in the kitchen, dropping the groceries on the table with a thwack. John hums a greeting to him in the living room and offers him a biscuit.

“No thanks,” Ringo says. He faceplants into the couch.

Something clinks onto the coffee table. Well, coffee table is one way to put it; it’s more of a hunk of stone from back when Paul thought he was going to be the next Michelangelo and get really into classical sculpture. It now sits in the living room and primarily holds George’s textbooks, plus takeout for whenever they don’t feel like cooking (which is all the time), so you can see how that panned out for Paul.

“Tea for you,” George says. He plops onto the floor between the couch and the table and runs a friendly, comforting hand through Ringo’s hair. Ringo practically purrs, leaning into the touch, and George feels his heart melt and trickle through his ribs. “You okay?”

“I’ve lost all faith in humanity,” Ringo mumbles into the cushion. John reaches over and pats him on the back.

“Don’t worry, Ringo. There won’t be any humans to have faith in soon.”

George throws a packet of sugar at John who dodges it, snickering. Ringo groans and tries to sink even deeper into the couch.

And that’s when they hear Paul scream.

#mclennon #starrison #mclennon fanfic #starrison fanfic #john lennon x paul mccartney #george harrison x ringo starr #beatles fanfic #beatles crackfic #kalwrites #idk

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fmdkiana · 3 years

Text

【✧】━━━━━ 🌿 k i a n a i n t r o p l a y l i s t 🌿 ━━━━━【✧】

these are nineteen songs that i’ve been listening to while making kiana’s blog [x] some i came across, some randomly thought of, and some suggested by lovely muns i’ve been chatting about kiana to. since she’s a character that i’ve adapted for the purpose of famed, these songs have helped ground me in the person she is. i hope the songs and descriptions below will help you learn kiana a little better too

1. to be torn by kyla la grange

this first song was a suggestion from someone, and i think set the tune for the rest of my choices. apparently it’s from beauty and the beast? lol anyway it describes this desire to be torn, a carnal need to be used. the heavy sound of it is kind of haunting, a bit sad, but also strong. the emotion can be felt even without the lyrics. kiana has this part of her that deeply craves being important, whether it comes at her own expense -her own tearing- or not. also forewarning that a lot of these overlap on the same concepts. shrug emoji

2. intertwined by dodie

intertwined is a song that immediately came to mind for kiana after to be torn. when this song came out, many people saw it as a cute love story, wanting to be intertwined with a lover, and have them be the safe space when you have a troubled head. however, dodie made a video debunking this, against her natural inclination, because the song describes something severely unhealthy. the following music video also helped many people to see the gore that’s strung throughout the lyrics. it Actually describes a relationship where the participants have put all of their source of happiness in one another, and it’s left them codependent, but ever seeking more. kiana has this perpetual trouble in relationships, especially romantic ones

3. bite by troye sivan

i can be the subjective of your dreams, your sickening desire is a pretty good sum up of where the inspo comes from. it’s difficult, when talking about the negative parts of kiana, to not talk about her ex-boyfriend. i have lots planned to talk on so i won’t go on forever here, but it reminds me of how all it took was the tiniest invitation for kiana to “become his.” that’s how she works. come here puppy, don’t bite, and she’ll heel at your side forever. at least, back then. she’s someone who seems difficult, because she’s very asocial, but with the right formula, it could be so easy to slip her into your arms

4. hell in heaven by twice wish

this song is a bit similar to intertwined, i would say? someone who feels stuck, drowning in a “hell” that is only saved by a piece of “heaven/paradise.” yet they’re in between the place of hell and heaven, constantly confused of where they land, because they’ve placed their hope for salvation in this one, singular place/person. they want to be freer than they are, yet their salvation keeps them locked away. open the door to heaven, let me walk on the cloud. the day i’m trapped in you, save me, hold me tight

5. dinner & diatribes by hozier

a few different levels come from this song. while it was created with the idea of how tedious social gatherings are, the story that comes from it makes another world. kiana is asocial, and struggles with fear over social situations, which make something like dinner parties quite stressful for her. she’s also someone who isn’t fond of small talk, and more likely that type to say ‘talk to me about your deepest fears,’ but... she actually means it and isn’t saying it to be pretentious. she would much rather see the sickest, nastiest parts of someone, soak all of that up, than talk about whether the food was good. the music video describes this in part, but also gives a hades/persephone but worse type of story that is also quite kiana aligned. that’s the kind of love i’ve been dreaming of

6. creep by radiohead

i want you to notice when i’m not around. so fuckin special, i wish i was special, but i’m a creep. not to ‘have you ever seen me without this hat’ on you, but lissen! kiana is forever convinced she’s an outsider. the things she likes are more Cool these days than they were when she was a kid, but the feeling of being ostracized for liking them back then will always live with her. she’s an insecure overthinking fuck at times too. and also desperately wants to be someone special, and unique, as if having that would make her pain of feeling different worth it

7. seigfried by frank ocean

the meaning of this song is pretty different from how i view it in relation to kiana. for her, the focus is on the idea of ‘settling down’ being... acceptance of normality? her whole life, she’s been searching for someone and/or something that makes her feel special. she became an idol for this exact reason, dated her ex for that reason, seeks the relationships she does, thinks she could still have superpowers for this reason. but the truth is that she’s pretty normal. her hobbies are very normal people type things. her talents aren’t anything that would have her being called top of the line. her thoughts are all things other people have thought of. her booksmart intelligence isn’t any stronger than the average. she is very normal, and the tiny part of her that acknowledges that usually shoves it away. but on occasion, she wonders if she should accept it, and settle

8. gimme love by joji

gimme gimme love is all you really need to know lol kiana doesn’t stick around easily when she’s not being given the same kind of world-ending affection from those she’s chosen to share that with that she gives out. she gives at Least 110% of her love, affection, and loyalty into anyone that she has chosen to keep closest to her heart, and if she isn’t getting that back, she can feel dejected, unloved, and unimportant. she may give people like this a few chances to change, but her expectations, or “standards,” won’t change

9. pain by king princess

cos i can’t help turning my love into pain is the strongest lyric that ties back to kiana. the overall message isn’t as strong because king princess has a different view on a relationship as described than kiana. for her, it’s yet another kiana will put herself in the face of terrible parts of relationships. the trouble is that she enjoys it, and seeks it, thinking it’s the ultimate show of love. not to pain one another, but to be pained without them. also realizing after all these i should be saying this applies to her inner circle friendships as well, but the standards are just a little less heavy

10. any song by zico sun

not one for big gatherings, kiana likes to have her social interaction either through the wire, or in small groups (duos are best to her tbh) the song has an upbeat tune that contrasts against the lyrical meaning of something more about... any song will do, something to drag away the sadness that’s living inside. kiana functions a bit like that, always seeking her uniqueness to bust out and save her from her own mind thinking she’s not good enough

11. why won’t they talk to me? by tame impala

she is asocial, but that doesn’t mean being a hermit,, an otaku,, whatever you want to call her, is a life full of happiness. she functions very well on her own, but when she has that for too long, it can be damaging to her head as well, especially when she has inner circle friends or a romantic relationship. when not speaking to these people, the need for human connection seems unbearable to deal with, and anxiety runs rampant

12. alien by lee suhyun

her mama told her she’s alien, but actually it was herself telling herself she’s alien mixed with influence from pop culture making her want to be a superhero and kids who told her she was a freak, all coming together in the desire for weirdness to be a Cool thing. kiana will wish til the day she croaks that she will have a realization that she has a special power

13. stressed out by twenty one pilots

ki doesn’t care about the core message of this song. many people relate to oh no bills~ adult stress~ but kiana doesn’t. even if she wasn’t born into a family that could live comfortably, and didn’t become an idol making phat stacks, she would feel the same. to her, it’s an inevitability. HOWEVA the beginning lines are 1:1 for how she wishes to be something extraordinary, and is supa insecure that she isn’t. i wish found some better sounds that no one’s ever heard. i wish i had a better voice that sang some better words ... i was told when i get older all my fears would shrink but now i’m insecure and i care what people think

14. true crime by epik high ft. miso

not exactly 1:1 word by word, since there’s several perspectives coming in one song, however, the overall message i think can be summed in it’s a true crime to be without you. other lines like i’d open up my chest for your entertainment, that was the line that drew me to originally put this in the playlist. i’m not sure on a story behind the song, but it strikes me as something bonnie & clyde-esque? there’s themes of being on the run, lying on the pavement dying, stuff like that. that kind of relationship is strongly the ideals kiana holds for her romantic and close platonic relationships

15. shine by pentagon (shouldve been knight but bad bois image PLAYIN)

i cannot explain to u the random joy this dumb song gave me when it came out. it’s similar to power up like i just?? get so happy lol anyway the whole premise is like nerdy person has a crush n theyre like oh my god~ why would u like me~ i cant say i like u~ it’s super fucking cute. i’m a loser who loves you. yes, i’m a misery. to you, i’m a nuisance, i’m an outsider, but in this world, i only need you. that’s where the kiana part comes in strongest, or explains it in one sentence. she worries she isn’t enough for others but her affections are always incredibly strong. also she’s cute

16. tail by sunmi dimensions soloist 2

when i first heard this song, i needed to play it again to pay attention to the lyrics because i had the feeling it was kiana-esque. i was right, but i would say that it’s where kiana could go at her worst. has she been there? i’m not so sure. perhaps teetering on the edge of having her claws out, but really, for now, it’s just that the potential is there

17. she’s my religion by pale waves

so as to not repeat myself too much and because this is so much fookin writing already, this is another song that talks about how deeply and dangerously kiana falls into others. she’s no angel, but she’s my religion, always finding ways to numb the pain ... made me feel like i was finally enough ... she needs this love just as much as me

18. space cadet by beabadoobee

this song has similar themes to alien, but rather than about being special, it’s about being in a shitty place and letting your mind wander to create a better reality. ki has her interests, her extreme love of her fandoms, because it’s an escape for her. that’s not something i personally approve of, however, it’s a common reality for many people. living in these online spaces and thinking of these fictional worlds gives her a place to go to when the irl world is too difficult for her to handle

19. me! me! me! by teddyloid

you might think this is a meme addition and sure! to a degree it is! but i’m also going to talk about it as an actual piece of music and visuals. first we’ll talk about the music video. kiana feels complicated about the type of anime fans that oversexualize everything, so in general, she likes a message that’s against those types. the message of addiction tearing real life relationships apart also is something kiana sorta needs to hear. the lyrics of the song itself talk about an all consuming type of relationship, and dissects it to explain how it wasn’t love, but worship, which was dangerous to them both. it’s a song that kiana perhaps would need to take to heart, but i, as her mun, am unsure if she ever will. that depends on the connections she forms, and what types of people are goading her on, or trying to get her to stop

#yes i am dirty hit trash blame that little emo ass punk andy and all their dirty hit aus #there are so many things i wouldnt give a shit about if it werent for my having a connection to them thru my muses #i watched another anime thinking it was research for ki lol #for now i think i'll do boring tags like sung n if i change my mind i'll come back later #tunes

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thought-42 · 4 years

Text

Clone Wars fic Day Four

Sometimes the next day is two months later leave me alone. Today on the pointless modern au: Obi-Wan gets many visitors at work and handles it... poorly. Part One Part Two Part Three

Cody appears in the Starbucks ten minutes before Obi-Wan's shift ends.

"I'm giving you decaf," Obi-Wan tells him, watching the vein in his forehead pulse in fascination. His hands are shaking slightly.

"I'm driving you to the party," Cody says. "If anyone asks, you don't get off for another hour and wouldn't have been able to make it across town in time."

"Are you having a Day?"

The after-school rush has passed, and there's no one behind Cody in line, so Obi-Wan hands him his change then leans on the counter, hands clasped as he studies Cody. His coworker is nineteen and far more interested in sneaking glances at his phone than reporting Obi-Wan to their shift manager where she's unpacking deliveries in the back, so he's free to take as long a look as he likes.

"I'm fine," Cody says. "This is fine. Everyone here is absolutely fine."

"You have glitter in your hair."

"I also have dried lentils and blood in my hair," Cody says, alarmingly at peace with this state of affairs. "I took the day off to get everything ready for this party, I have no idea how this is still such a mess."

Obi-Wan makes a note to check him for concussion before he lets him drive him anywhere. "I'm sure Rex will appreciate all your work."

"He'd better," Cody says darkly.

"You only turn twenty-one once, I suppose."

"Somehow I don't remember my twenty-first birthday being that much work."

"Yes, well, it's all rather dependent on where you live, isn't it?" Obi-Wan does not actually remember his twenty-first birthday and he hadn't been in the States at the time, so he really hasn't got a leg to stand on. Cody doesn't need to know that.

"We need to pick up the cake on our way back," Cody says, tapping a finger on the counter. "Don't let me forget."

"I thought your dad was making it?"

Cody laughs and it's perhaps the most soulless thing Obi-Wan's heard in his life. "Me too."

Obi-Wan pats his hand lightly and slides down the counter. "I've changed my mind," he says. "You're getting herbal tea."

"This is harassment," Cody says, absently, tugging out his phone and frowning at whatever he sees. "Did you know Anakin is bringing his girlfriend?"

Obi-Wan huffs. "I don't even know that Anakin has a girlfriend, Cody. What could you possibly be talking about?"

"Do I want to know what that's about?"

"No," Obi-Wan says, cheerfully. His stomach does the sickening swoop that it's been doing every time he thinks about the fact that Anakin doesn't trust him with something as simple as his relationship status and he has no idea why.

"Hmm," says Cody. "It still feels vaguely uncomfortable that he's even coming."

"Boundaries are institutionalized artificial constructs that prevent the formation of strong community," Obi-Wan says, lightly.

"That... sounds ethically and emotionally questionable," Cody says flatly.

"You say this like Kix won't be there."

Cody looks vaguely horrified. "Will he be?"

Obi-Wan shakes his head gently. "Sit down. Drink your tea. Does your head hurt?"

"It's not my blood," cody says, like that's not the most worrying sentence Obi-Wan has heard all week. He decides the world will not end if he finishes his shift a few minutes early just this once.

He's hung up his apron, washed his hands, and is just putting on his coat when Qui-Gon fucking Jinn walks in the door, long wool coat at odds with his worn boots and faded tshirt. Never before has he visited Obi-Wan at work. Obi-Wan had not actually been certain he knows where he works until this precise moment.

Obi-Wan has had the benefit, for most of the time he's known Qui-Gon, of being able to ensure he's presenting a particular image whenever they interact. Be it forewarnings of his visits by group home staff, emails to organize a visit at uni, texts that provide dates and times for family dinners and holidays. There have been very few occasions when Qui-Gon has caught him unaware and ill-prepared. And most of those times he doesn't remember well due to illness or alcohol. Obi-Wan has been working for 20 hours with a half hour break spent on the bus to get between his two jobs, he smells like coffee grounds, he's kind of woozy because he's consumed nothing but tea all day, and his maybe sort of potential partner is in the midst of a silent stress breakdown with glitter and blood in his hair and wrath in his heart.

"Hello!" Qui-Gon calls, bright and friendly like he does this every day. "Good, I've caught you before you left." Seeing him standing in front of the pastry case just to the left of the table with the possibly Satanic graffitti is bad enough, but actually hearing his voice against the background of the generic singer-song-writer crooning (which has burrowed its way into Obi-Wan's ears and soul and will follow him to his grave) and the rumble of the espresso maker is so jarringly incongruous that Obi-Wan wonders for a minute if he's even awake.

"Oh good," Obi-Wan echoes weakly. Cody looks casually curious, blissfully oblivious for the moment.

"I was in the neighbourhood," Qui-Gon says, "and thought I'd treat you to dinner."

"I'm... quite alright," Obi-Wan says. "I've actually got plans, unfortunately."

"We have an hour," Cody says, helpfully. Obi-Wan isn't close enough to step on his foot, and Qui-Gon is watching too closely for him to communicate his panic rage with his expression.

Qui-Gon's attention snaps to Cody like a heat seeking missile. "I don't think we've met. I'm Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan's-- father."

He extends a hand and Cody shakes, looking mostly uncertain. Obi-Wan gets it, much as he doesn't want to. He hasn't been particularly complimentary of Qui-Gon when speaking to Cody, but there's still a reason he's remained attached to him for twenty years. His smile is kind and his handshake firm and with his long hair and laugh lines he comes across mostly as someone's hippy uncle or the strange old man in the back of a magical shop who vanishes as soon as the protagonist looks away.

"I'm Cody."

Obi-Wan is hardwired to cringe at the particular grin that breaks across Qui-Gon's face. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Anakin has told me about you."

"Well that's concerningly vague, thank you," Obi-Wan mutters under his breath.

Cody hums noncommittally. Qui-Gon says "You're taking Obi-Wan out tonight, are you? I'm glad, he'll vanish into his books for weeks on end if you let him."

Obi-Wan is thirty-three goddamn years old and this man who could never even be bothered to adopt him still speaks about him like he's a child. And there's nothing malicious behind it, which is perhaps the worst part. Qui-Gon is teasing out of affection and is probably legitimately concerned about obi-Wan's social life. Obi-Wan wishes desperately that Cody was not seeing him like this, is quite suddenly hyper-aware of his own body and his expression and any words that might come out of his mouth. He feels awkward in his own skin and painfully aware of how Cody might interpret anything he does, as if with Qui-Gon's presence he has been thrust on stage for a role he doesn't know and for which he is lacking a script.

"My brother's birthday party," Cody says. "I have a big family, so birthdays are always... an event."

Qui-Gon nods. "Family is important."

Obi-Wan is going to drown himself in the coffee server.

"Well, if you do have that hour, you've got to let me take you both for a drink," Qui-Gon says. "I'm always happy to get to know Obi-Wan's friends, and especially knowing that Anakin thinks highly of you."

Cody glances over at Obi-Wan, eyebrows up, clearly waiting for him to take the lead. Obi-Wan's brain, unfortunately, continues to spin its wheels uselessly against an oil slick of embarrassment and anger and anxiety. And Cody, for whom familial support is a fundamental tenant of existence, who is courteous to a fault in the face of authority figures and not actually as quick on his feet in social situations as most people assume, does exactly what Obi-Wan should have known he'd do.

"That'd be great, thank you," he says, dooming them all. "We've got to pick up the cake by 6:30, but that does give us some time."

Obi-Wan lingers behind as they leave the store long enough to snap a photo of Cody and Qui-Gon existing in the same physical space, which he sends to Anakin with a long string of screaming emojis. Anakin replies immediately, of course.

'Thats adorable! i'm glad hes meeting the parents'

'Looking forward to meeting Padme tonight,' Obi-Wan responds, vindictively.

#Obi Wan Kenobi #Commander Cody #Codywan #tumblrfic tag #Star Wars why?#I... really hope this actually includes line breaks this time

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queen-of-bel · 3 years

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kaz and least fav desu character for the opinion meme! i have no emojis on my pc sladfgfhj

LMAO

Kaz: Master Miller, you are tied for my favorite character in the entire series. I think it’s really interesting to see this man clearly have a functional moral compass (you know, especially compared to nearly everyone else throughout the BB saga), but he’s so impulsive and just plain stupid that he can’t realize that he’s doing the exact same actions that disgust him when others do it. A perfect example would be that he’s sickened at the thought of using child soldiers, but uses David because he can’t see anything other than his hatred for BB.

Of course, I probably wouldn’t love his character as much if it weren’t for Paz, but I have yelled so much about two peace on this blog that I’m not going to bring it up in this ask.

Anyway, I find him to be one of the most realistic characters in the series. I love his backstory and character development. While ofc I don’t actively enjoy the fact that my fave is dead, getting murdered by Ocelot is a pretty fitting way to go imo.

Least fave desu character: OOF that’s an extremely difficult one... I might... have to go Haru on this one. It’s not that I don’t like her, because I do, it just so happens that I like everyone else more...

That being said, I’m going to type up something longer and more coherent later, but tldr; I feel that Haru is the “goddess” that the Megami Ibunroku prefix refers to in the original game. I mean, she is arguably the most important character in the game (other than Abel, of course). If you don’t save Haru, 4/5 routes are unavailable to you, and after the development of the original game the devs themselves said:

“Yeah, I think Gin’s route is probably what most consider the ‘standard ending’. It’s so warm and fuzzy if the player accumulates as many characters as they can and has them all lined up nicely at the end. (laughs)”

Gonna do a bit of a lemma for a second, I think we can assume that the devs consider Naoya’s no-kill route to be the “standard ending” of Overclocked. Not only does it have the most amount of content, but it also meets this “accumulate as many characters as you can” standard that they’ve outlined above.

What’s most interesting about this, however, is that the “Megami Ibunroku” prefix was dropped for Overclocked. There was a conscious decision to use the Megami Ibunroku prefix for the game, as the devs constantly refer to the game as a Megami Tensei one, so it’s just a juicy Food For Thought that it was omitted from Overclocked.

But I digress...

Anyway, yeah Haru is a good character and I still really like her. She serves a different role than everyone else in the game, but I actually think that’s a good thing.

Thank you for asking!

send me ☕️ + [topic] and i’ll tell you my opinion on it!

#metal gear spoilers #devil survivor spoilers #mmm i mean babel is the obvious answer for who the goddess is in desu but it's not as if we can't have multiple goddesses #p1 had it #sebec's goddess was maki and then sqq was saeko #anyhoo #also the whole 'functional moral compass but personal shortcomings prevent them from aligning themselves to it'#is prob a surefire way to make a character my fave #izaya.. kandori... kaz....#love that contradictory nature it causes #answered #re: babel i mean it doesn't take away from the fact that megami ibunroku was dropped from overclocked title #you could chalk it up to the fact that it would just make for a lengthy title but atlus has had longer titles #*deep inhale*#Devil Summoner: Raidou Kuzunoha vs. the Soulless Army

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benoitblanc · 4 years

Text

tagged by @castelllans (ily caroline!!!) to answer some questions!

do you prefer writing with black pen or a blue pen? black 100%

would you prefer to live in the country or in the city? city, but not in a super crowded hectic bit. like near the natural history museum in london. in one of those super expensive row houses. as you can see, i haven’t thought about this at all XD

if you could learn a new skill, what would it be? i’d love to become proficient in italian. or tap dancing

do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? i actually don’t drink coffee at all and not much tea, but on the extremely rare occasions i have english breakfast tea, i take sugar

what was your favorite book as a child? besides harry potter? my love of crime fiction started really early with the a to z mysteries by ron roy. i loved ruth rose so much

do you prefer baths or showers? showers- i never have time for a bath

if you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be? a phoenix or a dragon!

paper or electronic books? absolutely paper

what are your favorite items of clothing? i have a t-shirt with the entirety of les miserables written on it in tiny text, and another with the entirety of the secret garden. i also love my stage management outfits, which are literally just whatever black clothing i can find the day of, but they always make me feel so badass

do you like your name? would you like to change it? i do, actually! my first name is extremely common and anglican but i think it fits me anyway. my middle name, what i go by on tumblr, is after fucking arwen undomiel- no, i’m not joking, i was legitimately named by my parents after arwen undomiel- so what’s not to like lol

who is a mentor to you? all the more experienced members of my production team are always so helpful and supportive and lovely. i miss them a lot

would you like to be famous? if so, what for? honestly? probably not. i’d like to be well-respected in my field but i don’t think that’s the same thing

are you a restless sleeper? yes, which sucks

do you consider yourself to be a romantic person? i’m a weird mixture of “absolute cynic” and “hopeless romantic” so... i suppose?

which element best describes you? air or fire

who do you want to be closer to? i forgot to answer this question last night- the answer here was copy-pasted from caroline with the rest of the game, sorry caroline- but there are several people i see on a semi-regular basis (during normal times) who i’m sort of friendly with but i’d love to be friends with

do you miss anyone at the moment? i miss all of my friends a ridiculous amount, but especially my idiot actors. (you all have probably heard at least one idiot actor story if you’ve been following me for any length of time.) they all mean the world to me, and i can’t wait until we’re all back in the theatre

tell us about an early childhood memory. when i was really little, like 3-5ish, i would always go to a family friend’s house while my mum worked. the family friend had three kids, one a year above me, one my age, and one two years younger. i have a handful of weirdly specific memories from their house, but my favorite is when the kid my age and i were playing on their swingset and when the mom called us in for lunch, she joked “oh, where are arwen and ben? i think they’ve swung into space! maybe to the moon!” i was maybe like four and i can still remember that she made us macaroni and cheese. it was a good day

what is the strangest thing you’ve eaten? i’m completely blanking on this one. i’ve eaten some weird shit in england but nothing too bizarre. elizabeth sponge, which is basically lavender-flavored victoria sponge, was pretty horrendous though. victoria sponge is such a perfect dessert and then you go and make it taste like perfume??? why???

do you like spicy foods? usually! as long as they aren’t too spicy

have you ever met someone famous? i went to elementary school with one of stephen king’s grandkids, aka joe hill’s son, so i’ve met joe hill. he and my dad would always talk about doctor who while they waited to pick us up. he actually wasn’t as weird as you would expect. my classmate, on the other hand, was exactly as weird as you would think a king would be

do you keep a diary or journal? i have made several attempts to do so and inevitably fail every time

do you prefer to use pen or pencil? depends on the situation

what is your star sign? pisces

do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy? in between!

what would you want your legacy to be? that i did something good for the world. i touched someone’s life in some way

do you like reading? what was the last book you read? i adore reading. i would die if i couldn’t read. i’m currently reading my dear hamilton by stephanie dray and laura kamoie, but the last book i finished was a reread of the raven king by maggie stiefvater

how do you show someone you love them? just by being a shoulder to lean or cry on more than anything. also, lots and lots of teasing in a fun, mutual, bestie banter (or straight-up flirting depending on the person) way

do you like ice in your drinks? in water or lemonade, but nothing else

what are you afraid of? wasps and gas masks and failure

what is your favorite scent? the specific mix of evergreen, cold air, woodsmoke, peppermint, stale popcorn, something baking, and snow that you only get at christmastime

do you address older people by their name or surname? depends on how well i know them

if money was not a factor, how would you live your life? in london in one of the aforementioned row houses, doing the things i love and travelling as much as i could

do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? neither. lake supremacy. (i do enjoy pools and the sea, but lakes are best)

what would you do if you found $50 on the ground? attempt to figure out who it belonged to, most likely

have you ever seen a shooting star? did you make a wish? i think i’ve seen a couple, but i don’t remember making a wish

what is one thing you would want to teach your children? the boldest thing you can do is just be kind

if you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? ...i don’t want tattoos, so nothing

what can you hear now? the hum of my air purifier

where do you feel the safest? my theatre is simultaneously where i feel the safest and where i have the most anxiety attacks. no clue why, although maybe it’s because i feel safe enough there to let myself freak out a little

what is one thing you want to overcome/conquer? i’m making it my goal this summer to overcome my phobia of thunderstorms. i’ve progressed to the point where a calm, rumbly storm actually makes me really happy now, which is great! i’d also love to just... stop having the aforementioned anxiety attacks but not sure how much i can do about that lol

if you could travel back to an era, what would it be? assuming none of the bigoted shit that was inevitably going down in literally any era is applicable, either the 1920s or 1940s

what is your most used emoji? 😂

describe yourself using one word? tenacious

what do you regret the most? i honestly don’t have many regrets, which is wonderful. the one i do have i flipflop between not giving a flying fuck about and going “oh god i really fucked up there!”, so it’s complicated XD

last film you saw? a rewatch of the avengers

last tv show you watched? technically both marvel agent(s) shows because i’m getting clips for giffing purposes- and side note the carter lighting designer owes me money at this point for making me go through this coloring bullshit over and over- but the last show i saw a full ep from was leverage

invent a word and it’s meaning. praecipience (n.)- the feeling of sickening anticipation you get right before something that you know is coming, like a cast list or an episode or opening an acceptance/rejection letter or an execution

tagging anyone who wants to do it :)

#tag game #about me

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

Text

Witness : 6

The Day After

moodboard created by @chuuulip

Character(s): dark!Bucky, later dark!Steve, too

Warnings: this is a dark!fic, it contains non/dubious-consent elements. Some violence as well at the beginning. It goes without (and with) that this is 18+.

Summary: The reader finds it hard to adjust after her first night with Bucky.

Notes: I am reposting this fic here. It was originally on ao3 but now it’s on tumblr too! If you read, I love feedback and would love any comments you have. And if you can, please share! Anyhow, enjoy :)

You weren’t sure of the time when Bucky left you. You didn’t move as his weight left the bed for the last time. Didn’t look to see the time. You couldn’t even recall what he had said when he left. Had he said anything? You were too shattered to listen. You just lay on the bed, sprawled in the position he had last broken you in, breathing but nothing more. You lingered on the other option. Maybe death was better than this. Feeling so violated, languishing in your debasement. You couldn’t see that the void beyond could offer any such self-loathing. If you told him you had changed your mind, would he kill you now?After the hours he had spent relishing in your torment, you knew it was too late for that. He would use you until you outlived your usefulness. He had said as much upon your first real meeting.

Slowly, you moved one leg, then the other, and crawled across the bed and onto the floor. Your knees shook as you stood but you kept yourself upright. Your ass was sore, thighs too, your core thrumming from the abuse. You stared at the blankets, tangled across the mattress, your stomach recoiled. You turned and stumbled, reaching out desperately for balance as you lumbered into the washroom. Your guts spilled into the sink, mostly bile. You turned on the faucet and washed it away. You let yourself slump to the tile, leaning against the side of clawfoot tub. Your breath picked up but you couldn’t cry. Not anymore. It was a peculiar sensation. You felt numb yet agonized. It was a pain you couldn’t quite grasp. You hung your head and sat until the frosted glass lightened, signalling that day was close.

You sat in the shower, scrubbing at your skin, slowly at first but then your need to cleanse yourself grew frantic. You emerged with raw flesh and dressed in a pair off baggy sweatpants and an aged sweater with holes in the cuffs. You dumped the clothing from your hamper and ripped the sheets and blankets from atop your bed, shoving them deep within the tall basket. You sat on the machine in the common laundry room as it shook with swirl of your bed clothing. Your fingers bent over the edge of the white metal, the subtle tumbling almost calming. You changed the load over and repeated your vigil.

You tossed the bedding down the garbage chute when they were done.

The sun was fully risen when you returned to your apartment, refusing to enter the bedroom and acknowledge your barren mattress. Your phone vibrated, drawing your attention as you carefully set up a pot of coffee to brew. You waited to fill your mug before you dug the phone from your purse, the screen lighting up as another message arrived. ‘You up for a sleepover?’ Allie followed the invitation with a winky emoji. You didn’t know how to answer. You definitely didn’t want to sleep in your own bed but you were afraid that Bucky would return that night and think you fled.

Your phone shook again, this time an unknown number. You opened the window and read, the fear creeping up your neck like spider legs. ‘In case you think of trying to run again’. It was easy to guess who had sent the text, easier with the photos that followed. Images more chilling than the scene in the parking garage. Pictures of your mother in front of her house, watering her flowers, accompanied by a wall of text including her name, birth date, social security number...everything about her.

‘Sorry, I can’t,’ You replied to Allie. You were pitiful. Too afraid to have a life so that you can sit and await your bane. A call came through, unknown number. You pressed answer as your heart raced. “Y/N,” Bucky’s voice greeted but you couldn’t speak. “Come on, what did I say about answering me.”

“What do you want?” You rasped, walking over to your window, looking out along the skyline. Could he see you then?

“You can go to the sleepover. I won’t be over tonight.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“W-what?” You sputtered, trying to search him out. “You can see my texts?”

“I see everything. I told you. Now, go ahead and have some fun. You deserve it after last night.” You were sickened by his tone. You reached up and drew the curtains shut. “I’m out of town right now but I’ll be back on Tuesday. This time I expect you to be on time.”

“I have to work,” You lied.

“Not that late. 10-6. Not a bad shift. Enough time after to have some fun.” Your hand was trembling uncontrollably. “I expect you’ll be home before seven.”

“Y-yes,” You stuttered, your throat constricting.

“Well, I should let you go. I’m a bit tied up at the moment,” He was signing off as if this was a perfectly casual conversation. “Oh, and one thing before I go, Y/N. Don’t try to lie to me again. When I return, you will be punished for breaking the rules. No passes this time. Understood?”

You choked, “Yes,” You whispered into the speaker, “Yes, I understand.”

“Good.” He was smirking, you could hear it. “Have fun at your sleepover.” The line went dead and you pulled your phone away from your ear. You scrolled through your contacts, returning to your conversation with Allie. ‘Actually, a sleepover sounds great.’

You crossed your arms as you waited for Allie to answer her damn buzzer. The speaker crackled and you heard her rustling in the background. “Y/N?” This always happened. She was always in the middle of something else when you turned up. You would have laughed if your body would have allowed it.

“Yeah, it’s me,” You called back, “Come on. Let me in. I’m soaked.” It had rained again but you hadn’t really noticed until you entered the lobby. The door rang and you pulled on it as it unlocked. You stood in front of the elevator, waiting for it to descend. You were jealous of Allie’s building; it was new enough that its amenities worked. At your building, you couldn’t trust the elevator. The old cage door and the several residents who reported hours spent waiting to be freed from its grips by maintenance. With your luck, you didn’t tempt fate.

It was a smooth ride up and you waited once more before Allie’s door. She slid free the chain free and let you in. Her hair was wrapped in a towel and her face green with an herbal smelling mask. “Just in time,” She chimed as she welcomed you in. “Shit, Y/N, you look fucking ragged. Good thing I have an extra mask.”

I don’t think a mask will do the trick, you thought as your eyebrows twitched. “Ha, yeah,” You laughed halfheartedly, “I brought wine.”

“You look like you need it,” She smiled but her eyes caught yours and she stopped. Usually she was hard to shut up. She’d keep going enough for the both of you so you never needed to worry about lively conversation. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head, trying to free yourself from the chains which only grew tighter around your limbs. “Fine,” You lied, forcing a bigger smile. She hesitated but backed off, allowing you the fib. She was always understanding. Whatever you needed, she would give. If that meant space, she’d give you a mile, but when the time came she was right by your side.

“Let me uncork that wine,” She took the large bottle from you, weighing it as the golden nectar swished against the glass, “Wow, you went all out.”

“Last time you drank it all,” You kidded. Still the smile was not real. You were relieved to be away from your apartment, to have Allie nearby, but you just couldn’t feel...normal. You hung your jacket and slipped out of your boots, following her down the hallway. Her apartment always amused you as it looked like Barbie herself could live here. Allie was a great host. She filled the largest wine glasses and set them on the low coffee table.

“Go rinse your face and I’ll put the mask on.” You did as she said, splashing your face and returning to her, closing your eyes as she smoothed the thick mask over your skin. “Ha, let me get my phone.” She stood as she finished, washing her hand in the kitchen sink and retrieving her phone as she sat back down. “I’m going to send this to everyone. You look so funny.”

“You’re one to talk,” You rolled your eyes. Her own mask was dried and starting to flake. She looked like a swamp monster.

“Shit, I gotta get this off!” She jumped up again and raced to the bathroom. When she came back she was giggling and touching her rosy cheeks, the rest of her face just as red.

“How long is this suppose to be on?” You asked anxiously.

“Ten minutes. But I may have left mine on a little longer,” She grinned, baring her teeth awkwardly.

“Right, I’m just going to take mine off now.” You passed her and swiftly cleaned your face as you felt tingling along your forehead. You were thankfully soft and without shine, your skin much brighter than before.

“So,” Allie handed you your wine as you say, “What are we going to watch tonight? Or do you wanna play a game? I got the new Mario.”

“Hmm? So many options,” You leaned back, sipping deep from your wine. “You choose. I’ll do whatever.” Whatever could distract you from the impending doom which stood over you so constantly. You drank again from you wine, setting down the glass with only a mouthful left.

“Take it easy, Y/N,” Allie looked up as she switched on her console, “We have all night and only one bottle.”

“Won’t be that long a night if I drink enough,” You muffled a belch into your palm and she laughed.

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it,” She sat beside you on the couch and handed you a controller, “But I think you’ll need your wits for this game. I might just kick your ass.”

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