#it's paid off a few times! but it probably means i'm insecure in how people perceive me hahaha

[thezombieprostitute]

Dream Come True - Part 4

Summary: The “Garbage Men” are the guys in the mob who get the dirt on others and clean up after the higher ups. They have many different ways of gathering intel by running legitimate businesses. One such business is Jefferson/Jensen’s cyber cafe where you regularly go to work. You’ve actually become good friends with Jefferson’s daughter and Jensen’s niece. You even volunteered as their after-school tutor. One day, there’s a robbery attempt where you get hurt protecting the girls. This is how you are introduced to Curtis Everett, the guy in charge of the “Garbage Men”.

A/N: Reader is plus sized, femme. No other descriptors used.

Word Count: ~2000. I think this is my longest chapter.

Warnings: Bullying, Fat shaming, Insecure reader, Violence mentioned and referenced but not written. Please let me know if I missed any!

Series Masterlist

Part 3 -- Part 5

It figured. You had an interview in an hour and now Curtis had time to talk to you. You could probably catch a cab and still arrive on time, so long as you kept this conversation short.

As soon as he walked into the cyber cafe (your second home at this point) you stood up and got his attention. He looked a little surprised to see you standing but you remembered every time he's seen you so far it was in a hospital bed. It's been a few weeks and your leg was still stiff but you were diligent in your physical therapy and healing well.

He walked over to you, accompanied by someone you didn't recognize. As soon as he got close enough you directed him to the office in the back, "Jefferson gave me permission to use his office for this discussion." Curtis nodded and the three of you went into the room, closing the door behind you.

"Hello," you reach a hand towards the stranger, "I'm Y/N. I don't think we've been introduced."

"Mace," he shakes your hand with a smile. "We've never met but I have heard a lot about you."

"It's nice to meet you," you return the smile. Looking at Curtis you continue, "we need to talk about either my schedule or Hal's, Sir."

Curtis gestures to the chairs and you all take a seat.

You start, "I understand that there are a lot of things you can't account for in your scheduling but Hal has had to cancel every session I've tried to have with him. And if I'm not tutoring, I'm not getting paid."

"We can put you on retainer," Curtis started.

You interrupted him with a scoff. "I'm not getting paid to do nothing, Sir. What's more, this is hurting Hal. He wants to learn but your chaotic scheduling is preventing that. Do you know how discouraging that can be? To finally have a resource but never be allowed to use it?"

Curtis sighs and looks at Mace, "do you think we can figure out a consistent time?"

"It'll take some work," he replies. "And, as the lady points out, there are things we can't plan for. But it should be possible."

Curtis looks at you, questioningly and you nod your head, "thank you both. This has been very frustrating for me and Hal so I really appreciate it."

"Eh," Mace replies, "what's a little more work?"

"Well I don't mean to cut into your time off with this, Sirs," your tone apologetic.

"We don't do time off," Curtis cuts in.

"What? Why not," you demand. "Time off is important for physical and mental health."

"We have to show our people that we're not asking them to do anything we wouldn't do ourselves," Curtis replied calmly.

"That's bullshit," you exclaim. "No wonder everyone's schedules are so hectic! You're all too exhausted and worn out to think straight!"

"We've been doing this for years," Curtis angrily interjects. "It's clearly been working."

"If you, Hal and Jake are any indication it's only working because of an ungodly amount of caffeine and luck," you retort. "You either need to get some more people or start scheduling R&R for you and your employees, Sir."

You're so focused on Curtis that you don't see Mace smiling, clearly trying not to laugh. Curtis's eyes soften a bit and he nods in concession.

"Thank you." You check your watch, "now if you'll excuse me, I have an interview to get to."

"What?" Curtis looked shocked. You almost think you saw some hurt in his eyes.

"My work for you will always get highest priority, Sir," you assure. "But it's very part-time work, that you’ve been unintentionally sabotaging and keeping very part-time. And that overly generous back pay won't last forever. So I'm looking at getting another income."

"Do you need a ride to the interview," Mace offers.

"No, but thank you," you reply. "The Wilford & Gilliam Trust building isn't too far and I can afford a cab."

Both men froze at your words as you got up and tried to leave. Curtis quickly blocked your access to the door and nearly growled, "you're not going to that interview."

"Excuse you?" Your eyes widen in surprise. "I've already told you that my work for you will get top priority and that I need the income, Sir. Now please move. I don't want to be late."

"You're not working for Wilford & Gilliam," Curtis barked. "You need another income? Fine. I'll find you another job. But you're not working for them."

"It's just a part-time, data entry kind of job," you retort. "And it's consistent, reliable work."

"They're horrible people who fund even worse people," Curtis scowled. "I know you like your data to back up these kinds of things but I can't tell you how I know."

You scan Curtis's face, take aback at the intensity of his conviction. There is no room for doubt that he believes in what he's saying. "Okay, Sir," you concede. "You've yet to do wrong by me so I'll trust you. I will still look for a second job, in case you can't find me one, but it will not be with them."

Satisfied with your answer Curtis let's you leave. As soon as you're out the office door he sees the grin on Mace's face. He gives him a questioning look but before Mace can say anything they hear you exclaim, "Mr. Drysdale?!"

Both men rush out to the main cafe and see Ransom looking uncharacteristically repentant.

"Y/N," Ransom gulped, "come back to work for me. Please."

"No," you responded before trying to walk around him.

Ransom blocks your path, "please! I...I made a mistake and I would like to make it up to you."

"No," you repeat, patience wearing thin.

"I'll double your pay, please!"

"Hire someone else!"

"I'VE TRIED," he shouts. "Their work doesn't get me through writer's block like yours did. Their research is all dry facts that are hard to absorb. You wrote in such a way that it was easy for me to figure out how to write it into the story. So PLEASE come back to work for me!"

"Do you know why I requested remote work, Mr. Drysdale?" He shakes his head, not used to the iciness in your voice. "I heard you complaining about me to your grandfather, the one who made you hire me. You never had a problem with my work but you still insisted he let you fire me so you could get a pretty assistant. One who was, to use your words, preferably fresh out of college. Because how could you be expected to write when you had to look at ugly, fat ass instead of a beautiful muse?"

Ransom at least had the decency to look ashamed but you didn't relent.

"So I worked remotely, making sure you wouldn't have to see me and I wouldn't have to put up with your looks of disgust. And then, when I got hurt, you cut me loose. So, no, Mr. Drysdale, I will not be working for you ever again. I prefer a reliable employer who appreciates my work."

You try to walk past him but he puts an arm out to stop you. Before you can react to the arm, Curtis has pulled Ransom away, gripping him by the front of his sweater. You don't want to cry in front of everyone so you keep walking, set on going home.

As soon as you're out the door Curtis snarls, "you do not treat any of my employees like that." Before Ransom can reply Curtis punches him in the face and he falls to the floor. Curtis glances at Mace who responds with a nod, promising he'll see to the witnesses, before he lets himself run after you.

Thankfully it was an off time of day and the sidewalks were mostly empty. He spotted you right away and quickly went after you. He caught up to you but the tears in your eyes made him stop in his tracks. 

“Y/N,” he asked. “You gonna be okay?”

“Eventually, Sir,” you reply, still walking. “He’s not the first asshole I’ve had to deal with and he won’t be the last.”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that. I should’ve stepped in sooner.”

“I’m glad you didn’t, actually. He needs to know I’m serious and that I’m strong enough to not need him. If you had stepped in before I was done talking, he’d think he could still get to me by going around you. This way I got to be the one shutting him out, giving him no room to think he could worm around.”

“That’s fair. I was incredibly impressed with how you handled him.”

“Like I said, not the first asshole to put my looks ahead of my worth.”

“Your prettiness is definitely a bonus to your good work,” he says before he can stop himself.

You stop and look at him, an angry expression and fresh tears on your face. “Don’t, Sir. Just don’t. I’m not interested in your pity.”

“I’m not…” Curtis stops himself. He’s clearly not saying the right things and doesn’t want to hurt you further. “I’m sorry.”

You nod and continue the trek to your apartment. He silently accompanies you. You’re hurt and he can’t fix it. If anything, he’d likely just make it worse. He never wanted to see tears in your eyes but being the cause of a fresh wave of them made him hurt in ways he never knew he could. 

“This is my building, Sir,” you interrupt his thoughts. “Thank you for walking me home and making sure I’m okay.” He nods, still afraid to say or do anything else, and you walk into your building, leaving him on the sidewalk. Part of him wants to follow after but he’s not sure he’d be able to actually do anything. Best if he just gets lost in his work. That’s always helped him before.

As he turns to walk back to the cybercafe, he sees Mace in their work van, parked on the curb. He moves into the passenger seat and sighs. As Mace drives away, Curtis says, “okay, we’ve gotta rework a few schedules.”

Mace chuckles, “if I’d known all it would take to get you to relent was a pretty face with a fiery spirit-”

“Don’t,” Curtis interrupts. 

“I’m just saying,” Mace bantered. “I’ve been telling you for a long while now that we need to give the guys a better work environment or they’ll burnout and make stupid mistakes. She makes one comment about how it affects her and you’re singing a different tune.”

“That’s not what happened.”

“I was there, Curtis. I saw it all happen.”

Curtis remained silent.

“I can’t say I blame you, though. She’s got some serious-”

“ENOUGH,” Curtis ordered. “Let’s just get to thinking about some more work for her.”

Mace took a calculating look at Curtis, “how about we have work with Colin and Mickey? They could use someone responsible to act as their manager. We could get better info from their VIP section if at least one person was sober. And you know they’d make her feel…appreciated.”

“No,” Curtis barked. “They’re idiots who would get her in trouble. I also don’t want her anywhere near the drug monitoring operations. If one of Rumlow’s goons pushes something on her…”

“Okay,” Mace interrupted. “How about Lee or Barber? She’d be pretty safe with them.”

“No. She’s too curious. Lee and Barber have information about us and I don’t want her to go snooping and suddenly be liable for our mistakes.”

“You’re intent on keeping her in the dark? She’s clearly smart enough to know there’s more to all of what we do.”

“But she has no specifics. No details. She can still claim ignorance and that’s how I want it.”

“Not sure how plausible an idea that’s gonna be. Especially when you two start dating.” Mace smiles a little when he hears Curtis’s warning grunt. 

“That’s not going to happen,” Curtis vows. “We’ll figure out something.”

“Whatever you say, Boss.”

Part 3 -- Part 5

Tagging @alicedopey because I promised I would.

@dontbescaredtosingalong

@icefrozendeadlyqueen

@texmexdarling

@veltana

@winter-soldier-101

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

#Curtis Everett x plus size!reader #curtis everett x reader #mob!curtis everett #mafia!curtis everett #Curtis Everett x female!reader

[hua-fei-hua]

“there is no consensual definition of what emotions are, either in philosophy or in affective science.”

*passes out on the concrete*

#OH SO YOU'RE TELLING ME I HAVE TO COME UP WITH MY OWN THEORY OF EMOTIONS HUH FOR WHAT A FIC ABOUT PEOPLE WHO FALL FROM THE STARS #AND FALL IN LOVE WITH HUMANS AND THEN SAVE THE WORLD THROUGH THE POWER OF LOVE?? I GUESS SO HUH TIME TO GET OUT THE PENCIL N THE BRAIN CELL #花話 #i don't think this will actually even be addressed in-text i'm literally just making up a bad faith reader in my head #who keeps asking me to explain why certain parts of the story are the way they are #'why did you combine these emotions and not these ones? [questions related to spoilers]?' #and i feel the compulsive need to come up with answers for these things bc well. i wanna know too #so like to an extent this isn't technically productive towards my ends. but it is maybe productive elsewhere? #idk i have a bad habit of arguing with bad faith readers in my head when writing #it's paid off a few times! but it probably means i'm insecure in how people perceive me hahaha

[rebeccccccaaa]

ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ

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ғʀᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏ!sᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴏɢᴇʀs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you and steve hooked up once and neither of you can forget that night

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: smut 18+ minors dni plz, kinda rough? but of course major fluffy aftercare from soft boi stevie, bit of inexperienced reader and insecure reader

(accidentally written unprotected sex but this is fanfiction lmao plz be safe irl)

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: ive never participated in a challenge before and i think @honeysucklesteve is just the sweetest so hope you like it el! And congrats on 4k :T

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“And the interesting thing about that, mind I add…” the words of your professor falling short because you can’t shake the feeling of his eyes looking at you.

You kept your head low fighting the urge within you not to look back. A couple nights ago you landed yourself in the bed of the infamous frat president Steve Rogers and to make matters worse, you both major in American Studies meaning you share all of your classes.

You didn’t have much experience with guys in high school so it wasn’t surprising when you had the same experience in college. What was surprising was the fact you spent a night in the arms of one of the most handsome men you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Steve Rogers was a huge catch. Teachers loved him, girls chased him,and guys wanted to be him.

You remember that night so vividly.

The way his hands fit so perfectly on your hips. The way his lips felt so hot against your own burning skin; and moved perfectly against yours. The things he whispered in your ear. They way he held you close when you fell asleep in his arms. The way you hated yourself the next morning when you snuck out. The way your tummy flutters simply because he’s looking at you right now.

You breathed out shakily before turning your head to find his eyes with yours; he looked away the moment you did shyly, very unlike him. Fuck he was gonna be the death of you.

“And that should be the end of the lecture. I’m gonna go ahead let you guys go a little early. Have a good weekend everyone and make sure to check your emails,” the professor gathered his things and left.

You packed your things quickly trying your best to avoid his gaze that you knew was still on you. Steve packed quickly too before walking hot on your tail, just about to call your name until…

“Hey, Y/n,” Bucky called out.

“Oh, hey Buck.”

“It’s the weekend and as usual the guys and I want to party tonight. But the dean said one more noise complaint about our house and we get on academic probation so we’re asking a couple of people who might wanna come to the club with us.”

Behind Bucky you could see Steve walking towards you two and your stomach sank. Bucky and Steve were best friends and you don’t know if Steve told him that you guys slept together last weekend. What if something happens again tonight if you say yes. Why are you even thinking that something could happen again? Steve Rogers is way out of your league it was a miracle that you landed a chance to be his bed warmer in the first place.

“I’ll see you for lunch, man,” Steve said to Bucky patting his best friend's shoulders. His eyes lingering with yours until you had to pull away.

“I don’t think I should,” you told him, walking towards the door.

“Come on, Nat told me you're quite the party animal and you left early last week I didn’t get to see you in action,” Bucky chuckled, walking with you. You didn’t leave early…

“Buck,” you looked at him.

“Please?” he asked. You exhaled sharply rolling your eyes before walking away to your next class.

“Is that a yes?” he shouted, making you turn around with a cheeky grin. You got to your next class and noticed Steve sitting in a new seat today, particularly the one next to the seat you usually sit in. None of his housemates or regular friends took this specific lecture so he usually sat in the very back corner alone. But today here he is.

His head snapped up when you entered the room. You hesitantly sat down next to him still avoiding his eyes. You set up your laptop on the small table as did Steve; both your eyes glancing at each other quite awkwardly until Steve finally interrupts the silence.

“You coming tonight?” he whispered.

“What’s in it for me if I do?” you said playfully.

“A repeat of the best night you’ve ever had,” he said cheekily.

“Oh, really,” you chuckled sarcastically as he nodded with an overly proud smirk.

“Probably not,” you answer his question.

“Seriously? Why not? I can pick you up,” he said.

“Steve,” you warned.

“What? Afraid you won’t be able to resist me?”

“You’re so full of it,” you said, making you both laugh.

“You were full of my dick last week,” he whispered.

“Steve!” you punched his side making him laugh hard enough for other students to take notice of your ruckus.

“Welcome class, we’ll begin the lecture in one minute. I’m just gonna pull it up on the projector,” the professor said rushing in.

“Please come tonight,” he whispered.

“Why are you obsessed with me?” you joked.

“Fuck off,” he chuckled.

“If I say ok, will you shut up for the rest of the lecture?”

“Maybe,” he grinned.

“Then maybe I’ll come,” you smirked.

Throughout the lecture Steve paid absolutely no attention whatsoever. Steve had been thinking about that night just as much as you had. The way your neck craned to the side a bit, reminding him of when he littered marks and bruises all over last week. The way you subtly bit your lip in concentration but all that clouded his mind was lust remembering how you looked so pretty from above when he was settled between your legs.

He wanted you again so badly. He wasn't going to lie, it sort of hurt him when he woke up and you weren't there. He thought maybe there was something between you two, god knows the tension was overwhelming that night. You weren't the most frisky woman he'd been with but you were sweet; slight innocence with your intimacy. He craved you.

Steve leaned towards you, his fingers twiddling with yours. You tried your best to ignore his advances despite how much you equally craved him. He ran his nose along your cheek and jaw and your breathing quickened inhumanly.

"What are you doing?" you whispered.

"Nothing, just relax," he responded. As much as he wanted to drag you out of class and fuck you so good, he knew you'd rip him a new one if he did. No matter how he'd make you feel.

"No, we're in the middle of a lecture," you argued.

"I'm not doing anything," he said humorously, you were not humored though.

"Steve," you scolded when he pressed a faint kiss under your ear.

You knew a guy like Steve was horny practically twenty-four seven, but you didn't take him to be quite clingy. Especially with someone like you. His arm wrapped under yours. His other resting on your thigh. His head tucked in the crook of your neck. It wasn't particularly sexual, but it was intimate. Something normal to couples, and you two were not a couple.

"Please come tonight," he whispered, “If not I’ll come over.”

"Ugh fine," you grunted, your voice breaking into a giggle because you did somewhat enjoy this unfamiliar attention.

Steve continued to sit next to you during the rest of your classes for the day absent mindedly teasing you, playing with your fingers, twirling your hair between his fingers, leaning his head on your shoulder while he held your hand. Like geez, take a girl out already.

By the time you got back to your shared apartment with two of your closest friends you felt conflicted. Why the sudden shift in Steve? You two weren't exactly best friends before, just two people who shared classes and accidentally slept with each during a drunken night at a frat party.

"Hey, everything ok?" Wanda asked you noticing your inner battle.

"Uh, yeah. Kinda. No," you said defeatedly making the girls chuckle.

"What happened?" Nat asked.

"That guy, that I… you know."

"Fucked?"

"Nat!" you said embarrassed.

"Go on," Wanda encouraged.

"Well, I never told you guys but the guy was Steve," you said shyly.

"What!" the girls exclaimed simultaneously.

"You're lying," Nat laughed.

"You really went from zero to a hundred," Wanda giggled.

"Guys stop," you whined.

"All day today, he's been like super clingy. Holding my hand and pretending he's like my boyfriend."

"Wait, I thought you liked him?" Nat asked, confused.

"I mean I do, but it's sudden and I'm pretty sure it's only because he wants to get in my pants again, you know?" you rationed.

"Awe, I don't think that's true. I've known Steve for a bit and yeah he sleeps around sometimes but he's not a giant dick. Doing that would be way too shallow, especially for Steve," Nat said.

“Yeah but don’t you think it’s weird?” you asked.

“Look did Bucky ask you about tonight?” Nat asked.

“Yeah, he did- how do you know that?” you asked, confused.

“Oh- Uh,” Nat paused.

“She asked Buck to invite you,” Wanda snickered.

“Why?” you asked.

“Well, you never go out with us and the last time you did we thought you just went home but apparently you were getting laid,” Nat cackled.

“Oh my- shut up,” you huffed before storming off to your room.

“Wait! Can you at least come with us tonight?” Wanda followed you.

“No,” you giggled.

“Please!” both girls said at the same time. As you closed your door with a grin on your face not responding.

Hours later you laid on your bed lowly listening to the soft rumbling chaos from your comedic roommates. You stayed in your not so sexy undergarments and not so sexy sweatpants along with a hoodie you stole from your brother before you moved.

You ate the junk you’ve stocked up on the past few weeks feeling a bit glum. It’s not that you didn’t necessarily want to go, you would love to spend another night in that gorgeous man’s arms but there’s absolutely no way Steve is gonna want you the way you’d like him too. Not sober.

There was a subtle knock on your door and you called out knowing the girls were probably ready to leave.

"How do we look?" Nat asked, walking into your room with Wanda.

"Wow, you guys look hot," you said sitting up.

"You think Vis would like this or is it too much?" Wanda asked sheepishly, she's had a crush on the foreign exchange student Vis for the longest time and had yet to make a move.

"I think someone's gonna have a lucky night," you wiggled your brows suggestively, making her roll her eyes and blush.

"What about you, still chasing Bryce?" you turned to Nat looked extra sexy tonight.

"His name is Bruce," she rolled her eyes.

"And yes, I am," she chuckled.

"You're so weird," you giggled, Bruce didn't seem to particularly be Nat's type but hey, no judgement.

"I heard he's got like a monster cock," you said.

"Shut up," she pushed you playfully.

“It’s always the nerds,” Wanda giggled.

"Anyways, are you sure you don't want to come?" Wanda asked sincerely.

"I'm sure," you smiled.

"Steve's gonna miss you," Nat teased.

"Yeah, I doubt that."

"Well, stay safe, cutie," the girls waved heading to the Uber that waited outside for them.

"You too!"

You sighed before grabbing more snacks to stuff your face with. A couple hours went by of sitting around watching nonsense on TV for a bit. You ate dinner that was far from fine dining but it was available before slouching on your bed until the late hours of the night.

You were practically falling asleep, tired and dry eyes glued to the screen of your small TV when you got a knock at the front door. You check the clock by your bed wondering if maybe either of the girls left their keys, but it wasn’t even midnight yet.

You clutched your phone walking hastily to the front door as quietly as possible creeping up to the peehole to see who would be your unexpected guest.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you swung the door open.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Steve retorted.

“My jamas,” you rolled eyes stepping to side to let him in.

“Seriously what are you doing here?”

“I told you earlier, you didn’t come tonight so I came to you,” he said, taking his jacket off.

“Seriously?” you tried not to smile, but the action gave you butterflies.

“You promised to come. I missed you,” he said walking up to you.

“You’re so full of shit,” you giggled, staring at his devilishly handsome grin.

“Come on, whatcha doing?” he said, grabbing your hand and taking you to the room. You three had a fairly small apartment and your light was obviously the only one on in the whole apartment making it easy for him.

“Well, before you rudely invaded my home, I was stuffing my face with all kinds of junk watching TV,” you said to him making him scowl playfully at you.

“Well, then let’s finish the rest of your junk food then,” he said laying on your bed. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the sudden shift in attention. Steve was a guy who could have anyone and he’s chasing you for some reason.

You weren’t a blonde bombshell with a perfect hourglass figure that made guys want you left and right. You had flaws that drew people away and you don’t think Steve remembers that night like you do. What if he hates your body? What if he thinks you're annoying and suddenly leaves?

“Everything alright?” Steve asked you.

“Uh, sorta,” you answered honestly.

“Come here, talk to me,” he said, opening his arms. You couldn't help your eyes narrowing at him.

“What?”

“Do you even remember anything from that night?” you whispered.

“Where’s this coming from?” he asked.

“Steve, come on,” you chuckled.

“What?”

“Do you just wanna fuck now? Make it quick so you can go back to the party-”

“Woah, who said anything about fucking?” he stood up towering over you making you suddenly feel really small and shy.

“I mean that’s why you’re here, right?”

“I came because I told you if you didn't go out with us that I was gonna hang with you. I didn’t say anything about sleeping with you. If you really want I can go home but I wanted to hang out with you,” he said sincerely.

“Oh, I- uh,” you stuttered; well now you feel like a dick.

“We can just sit and keep watching TV until you want to go to sleep and I can head out,” he said, sitting back down on your bed. You sat beside him carefully watching his movements. He kept his eyes trained on the TV for a bit before locking his eyes with yours. You turned away quickly hearing him chuckle before sudden movement escalated behind.

Steve grabbed you from behind gently and leaned back so you laid on his chest. You could feel the hard plains of muscles on your back. And the way his strong wrapped perfectly around your waist, it felt heavenly.

Steve’s jaw tightened from the hypnotizing scent of your shampoo. He remembered it from that night not long ago and he couldn’t get it out of his head.

He wasn't going to lie, since that night all he could think about was how smooth your skin was under his fingertips. How pretty you sounded when he was settled between your legs. How good it felt when your fingers carded through his hair. He wanted you so bad.

He wanted to wake you up between your thighs again. Ravish you once more before breakfast, hell eat you for breakfast. But when you weren't there sleeping as peacefully beside him like the night before, his heart tugged. Did he say something wrong? Did he do something wrong? What if he hurt you?

He gave you space, clearly evident you hadn't wanted to talk to him but those few days went by and the same lingering stares and shy glances came back again and he craved you in his arms again.

When Nat asked him and Bucky to invite you again out to party, he really wanted to be with you that night even if you didn't end the night naked in each other's arms, just being around you was enough for him. Fortunately here he is with you, with arms wrapped around your waist and Steve couldn’t be happier.

You looked so fucking adorable to wearing sweats and a hoodie; he wishes it was one of his own. You had fluffy socks on too that had dog faces on them and he swears his heart melted. What you two were watching was making you laugh and each chuckle or giggle that came from you was like music to his ears.

He couldn’t help himself when his lips pressed against the top of your head. Your body momentarily froze before relaxing again in his arms. Your arms laid over his and tightened so you could cuddle into him even more. Your eyes felt heavy and the feeling of Steve’s lips slowly reaching your neck didn’t help you want to sleep.

When his cool lips grazed your burning skin, you could feel your skin burst into chills. You practically shuddered in his arms and your face grew hot when you did. It all becomes suddenly overwhelming and you jump off on his lap turning to him with a distressed expression.

“What happened? Did I do something wrong?” Steve said worriedly.

“You did just want to sleep with me,” you mumbled tears forming in your eyes.

“What! No, that’s not it,” he panicked; using you was the last thing he wanted you to think he was doing, and wanted in general.

“Then what’s going with you? Ever since we fucked you’re suddenly attached to me, putting your hands all over me, pretending like you're my boyfriend! And I don’t understand why,” you said frustrated.

“I feel like your just using me or something-”

“That is the last thing I want,” he interrupted, his voice low.

“Then why are you doing this; Steve you could have anybody and for some fucking sick reason you keeping mocking me. Making me think I have a chance.”

“And you don’t think you do?” he asked, heart broken, making you scoff and turn away.

“Look, fine I’ll admit that maybe before that night I wouldn’t have made a move; but I’m gonna admit that I haven’t not felt something for you before,” he said, getting closer to you.

“What?”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met. And that night didn’t do shit to help me get over you,” he chuckled.

You crawled to him carefully looking into his eyes for any sign that he was being untruthful; you cupped his face gently.

“Are you drunk?” you whispered.

“Not one bit.”

You pressed your lips to his feverishly and Steve nearly moaned at the feeling. His hands grasped your waist firmly pulling you to sit comfortably on his lap. His hands crept under your hoodie holding you close.

Your hands rested on his broad shoulders holding yourself up as slowly leaned back onto your pillows. Your cold hands cupped his face as you deepened the kiss and his hand went to rest on your bottom.

With this new found position, his chest pressed against yours, his hips grinded up allowing you to feel all of him. Every pushing second you grew needier and whiny, practically clawing at his shirt to feel his skin.

"So needy already. And I've hardly touched you," he chuckled lowly in your ear.

He sat up nonetheless and stripped his shirt revealing his gorgeous physique that kept you up at night and infiltrated your dirtiest dreams. You brushed your hands all over his chest with your bottom lip between your teeth; Steve smirking slightly proud of the effect he had on you simply by having his shirt off.

"Come on, pretty girl. I wanna see you too," he's whispered before kissing you softly.

"Wait, I don't…" you didn't particularly feel very sexy and instantly became insecure about your body compared to Steve's.

"It's ok, we can cuddle," he smiled.

"Well, if I'm being honest I do want you. It's just, I just ate all this junk food and I'm not wearing anything sexy. I didn't shave and-"

"Hey, I don't care. You don't need to impress me or wear anything special for me. I just want you to look pretty sitting on my face and make pretty sounds telling me how I'm gonna make you feel."

Your body trembled at his words, arousal instantly flooding from you. His nose brushed against your cheek dragging along to your jawline before pressing kisses gingerly to your jaw and neck. His hands slowly lifted your hoodie and you raised your hands letting him remove your hoodie.

Your shoulders caved in out of habit, being topless in front of handsome men wasn't normally on your schedule; but the look in Steve's eyes, the look on his face holding a hungry and adorning expression made you more comfortable, reaching out to cup his face kissing him deeply.

You sighed breathlessly into the kiss as Steve's hands rubbed your sides. You pulled away momentarily only to put your lips on Steve's neck. Steve felt himself growing harder and needier to see you, feel you, pleasure you.

"Pretty girl, I need you. Lemme taste you, please," he whined.

He picked you up and laid down on your back to pull your sweatpants down your legs. You lifted your hips for him and he smiled cheekily at you biting his lip. Steve lifted your leg kissing the inside of your calf staring at with those hungry eyes.

"I still wanna see you sitting on my face, pretty girl," Steve said, pulling to him.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna crush you or anything," you whispered, making Steve chuckle.

Steve laid down assuring you that he wanted this and grabbed your hand helping you straddle his face. When you did Steve kissed the inside of your thighs playfully nipping and marking the sensitive skin making you gasp.

Steve wrapped his hands around your thighs bringing your center impossibly close to him, finally licking a long and wet stripe up your slit. Your moans were soft at first but when Steve started circling his tongue around your clit, you could help getting louder and bucking your hips grinding on his face.

Steve’s eyes were close relishing in your sex. You combed your fingers through his hair and Steve moaned loudly against your pussy. He dipped his tongue past your folds and that along with the vibrations from his beautiful moans, you head threw back moaning in pure ecstasy, moaning so loud your neighbors were definitely going to file a complaint.

“Fuck, Steve. Your mouth feels so good; shit!” you whined.

His tongue circled your clit again quicker this time and you bucked your hips, tightening your stomach and squeezing your legs as you approached your high. Steve kneaded the soft flesh of your ass lapping up everything you gave him.

Steve crawled from under you as you held onto the headboard, still standing on your knees, trying to catch your breath. Steve came up behind you rubbing your hips softly, kissing the back of your neck softly. He quickly rid the remaining of his clothes he still wore, his painfully hard cock slapping against his stomach desperate for some sort of attention.

You breathe softly, hyper focused on the cum that slipped down your inner thighs. Your legs lightly trembled from just his mouth you couldn’t wait to feel what his cock would feel like, filling you up like it was only a week ago. Steve sat beside you looking at you with a soft smile on his face, his hand softly rubbing the back of your legs and your bottom too.

He reached around to grab your hip and slowly turned you around settling you between his legs; your back pressed against his chest as it was only moments before, more innocently than now. His lips sucked and kissed your neck as his hands cupped and kneaded the soft flesh of your breasts.

Your hands rested over his own and your hips squirmed a bit for eagerness. The low growl from Steve because your hips grinded against his cock was incredibly arousing.

“Such an eager little slut ain't cha’,” he grabbed your hair.

“Fuck,” you mumbled as he pushed you forward on your hands and knees.

“Want me to fuck you? Remind you how I felt buried so fucking deep inside you? God, I think about you every fucking night; how perfect you were wrapped around me, how beautiful you sounded underneath me,” he whispered huskily in your ear making you shudder.

“Stevie, please,” you whimpered.

His hands rubbed up and down your back as he chuckled darkly.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting to take care of you again, pretty girl,” he kissed your back softly.

He wrapped his hand around his cock slowly and languidly pumping it. He couldn’t help but tease slightly circled his tip along your entrance pulling desperate whines from you. He finally reached his own breaking point, unable to stand not being able to feel you so he pushed his hips forward moaning loudly at how tight you felt around him.

“So good, pretty girl,” he moaned.

“Fuck, Stevie. Filling me up so good; you’re so big,” you sighed.

“Damn right, pretty girl. Taking my cock so well. Fucking made for me,” he grunted.

His snapped in and out increasingly quicker with each thrust; the vulgar sounds of his movements and skin slapping against each other echoed loudly in the room. Harmonizing with both your pleasurable moans.

Chasing both your releases, Steve’s hips jerked rougher and harder in and out of you making you practically shriek at the feeling. He leaned forward wrapping his hand around your throat before pulling you flush against his chest.

“Such pretty baby,” he bit your ear.

“Fuck! Stevie I need to come,” you whined.

“Yeah, you want to come all over my cock? Make a fucking mess?” he growled.

“Please!”

“Hold on, pretty girl. I’m almost there,” he sighed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes in pleasure.

You whined and whimpered, tears brimming your eyes from that overwhelming feeling. You couldn’t help but clench hard around his cock desperately holding back for your release.

“Fuck, do that again, pretty girl,” Steve gasped.

“God, yes. I’m close, pretty girl. You ready to come?” he pulled your head back to look at your face.

Tears fell inelegantly down your cheeks, sweat lined your forehead, your chest moved rapidly up and down; to Steve, you looked ethereal.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Let go, pretty girl. I gotcha,” he whispered against your lips.

Your eyes rolled back as your body shook against Steve’s, releasing onto his dick profoundly. Steve swallowed your louds moans, roughly pressing his lips to yours, moaning himself. You clenched hard around Steve one last time feeling his throbbing cock shoot hot ribbons of cum, coating your walls.

When you eased your way slowly down from your high, Steve laid you down gently pulling out to see his cum mixed with yours spilling from you. You looked so fucked out breathing heavily, whimpering at the loss of Steve inside you. He wanted to, but held back from taking you again. But not wanting to hurt you, he treaded towards the bathroom and turned on the water to run you two a hot bath. He picked you up gently pressing kisses all over your face and neck before planting one delicious kiss on your lips; your hands reaching around his neck to deepen it if that was even possible.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, coating your arms with soap to wash you. You laid against him with your eyes closed desperately trying not to fall asleep in his arms.

“I didn’t hurt you?” he asked softly.

“Mh-m,” you shook your head slightly with a blissful smile on your face.

“Good,” he wrapped his arms around you tightly, kissing you passionately.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, barely audibly.

“For coming to hang out with me tonight,” you chuckled. Your eyes felt too heavy, simply remembering the way he carried you carefully back to your bed and held for the rest of the night.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

@l-sofiamia-l

@pluto-grl

@partr1dge

@stefans-wife

@cordeliaswhore

@fleurlovesbucky

@wandanatasha0720

#steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #frat boy!steve rogers #chris evans smut #honeybunswritingchallenge

[atinydise]

Follow the rules (Part 2)

❦ Genre: Angst / Fluff / Suggestive.

❦ Pairing: Seonghwa.

❦ Word count: 1K.

❦ Requested: Don't ever believe me again when I say I'm posting something "soon" 💀Part 1

❦ Tags: @scuzmunkie, @butterfliesinthenightsky 🦋

Once again, you stared at your reflection in the dirty mirror of the theater.

You fixed your hair, removed the tiny stain of lipstick on your teeth, and shamelessly opened another button of your dress.

“You can do it, girl!” You motivated yourself. “It’s just a date! You are a pro for dates.”

It’s been 10 minutes that you were trying to spot something wrong with your outfit or just yourself.

This guy that you met at a party, invited you to several dates before, but for this one, you felt a little bit more stressed or insecure.

He was so good to you. Always funny, complimenting you when you doubt your own beauty because of these stupid “beauty standards” or always available when you need to talk.

You were diving into your thoughts, daydreaming about how this date could end when you receive a text from him asking if you were okay.

Not losing another second, you walked out of the restroom.

“Oh Y/N, are you okay? You were there for a while.” He asked, visibly worried for you.

“Yeah, there were just a few girls before me.” You lied. “Let’s go?”

He nodded and smiled.

“But first, do you want a snack or a drink?” He offered, already taking out his wallet.

“Wait, I'm paying.” You put your hand on his. “You paid for the restaurant yest-”

“Popcorn and a cold drink such as iced tea?” He asked, knowing exactly what you want.

Understanding that he would probably not give up and pay for your snacks, you simply nodded.

“Thank you again.”

“Wait for me here!” He said before running to the shop.

Seeing someone devoted to you made you happy and thankful.

“What could happen Y/N? It’s probably going to be a good date too.” You tried to reassure yourself, fixing your dress one last time.

“Y/N?”

You instinctively looked at the person next to you.

It took a few seconds to realize that the worst thing that could happen, was just there: Seonghwa.

You hated the way with simple eye contact, he made you doubt your entire existence.

Even if Seonghwa changed a bit during this last month, he was still this handsome man he used to be.

His hair was dyed in black and a bit curlier than before. He was probably working out a lot more because his figure was a tiny bit more massive.

The way his eyes were piercing and staring at your soul, gave you this warm feeling that only he can give you.

“Y/N?” He repeated.

You raised a brow to show him that he has your attention, but that you wouldn’t say anything.

“It’s been a while.”

The thought of shouting ‘you dumb or what’ or punching him right in the face, came to your mind for 2 seconds, but you decided to play it cool.

“Yeah.” You simply replied.

Seonghwa was taken aback because of these short and cold replies. You were the only one talkative among both of you.

“Hm… are we cool? Or?”

“Cool?” You repeated. “What do you mean?”

“Are you still mad at me?”

This situation was so strange to you that you pinched your hand discreetly, to be sure that you were not daydreaming or hallucinating.

“Y/N.” He called you once again.

You managed to keep your composure but hearing your name from his mouth made your knees weak a little bit more.

“Do you remember that we are not talking or seeing each other anymore?”

Seonghwa scratched the back of his head, searching for a possible excuse or explanation.

“You made it clear the last time we saw each other.” You continued. “So you don’t need to come and check after me as you care.”

“Y/N…”

“Don’t Y/N me.”

“That’s your name?” He raised a brow.

“Yeah, then don’t call me.” You gulped, realizing how dumb this was.

“Y/- I mean… Can we just talk about what happened? I know what I said was bad.”

“Bad?”

“Yes.”

“I would say painful, cold, uncomfortable, hard, unpleasant-”

“Okay okay, I got it.” He stopped you.

“No, I think you didn’t.” You started, clenching your fist to not yell at him for everything he did to you. “You literally throw me like a toy. Okay, we knew our deal, just sex, but you could have been a little- NO. A LOT nicer when you rejected me.”

“I freaked out.”

“And I don’t care.”

“Can we talk about this later? I really want to see you again.”

That was one of the things you were redoubting.

After a month, the moment you finally start to turn the page and focus again on your happiness, Seonghwa comes back.

You hated yourself for already knowing that you would run to him without any effort.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?”

You turned back and stared at Seungyeon. He looked so cute with these 2 big packs of popcorn and the drinks hanging between his fingers.

“Ah, you there.” You smiled.

Seonghwa stared at both of you, trying to know the exact situation or relationship you had with this man.

“Hello. I’m Seungyeon.” He politely bowed.

Your ex-friend and benefits didn’t even blink. He stayed there, only staring at him.

“Well… we should go. The movie is about to start soon.” You grabbed Seungyeon by the arm, making sure to help him with the drinks.

“And what about my request?” Asked Seonghwa, before you could leave.

You sighed. He wouldn’t give up so easily. He would even sit next to you during the movie for sure.

“Can you take our seats? I need to talk to him for a minute.” You simply explained, embarrassed that this situation happens during your date.

“Sure, text me if you have a problem.”

You understand well that he was bothered by you staying with a man that clearly has his effect on you. But for the sake of this date, you needed to make things clear with Seonghwa.

When Seungyeon disappeared from your eyesight, you confronted him.

“What’s your problem?”

“And who’s this guy?”

“And why are you asking as you care about who I’m dating?” You crossed your arms on your chest.

“Because you are mine.” He sighed in frustration.

“What the hell Park Seonghwa.”

“I’m the only one who is supposed to touch you.” He added.

You rolled your eyes at this comment. Of course, he was only thinking about sex.

“Well sorry, but other people don't see me as a vulgar piece of meat like you do.” You started. “Seungyeon is curious about how my day went and not about which position we are doing at night.”

“Do you sleep with him?” He stepped closer to you.

“This is none of your business.”

Seonghwa was frustrated. He ran his hand in his hair and growled something that you didn’t understand.

“So, for your request. It’s no. You told me that I’ve shouldn’t f-”

“Does he satisfy you well?”

You blink twice at this sudden question.

“I told you it’s n-”

“Does he fuck you better than me?”

He was stepping closer to you at every question. Your heart raced and your lips went dry in a second.

“Does he make these things that you love the most in bed?”

“You are being inappropriate.”

“I bet you never told him your little secrets. Like how you like to be choked. Did you tell him?”

The proximity, his perfume, or just his presence made you get a tone of flashbacks.

These times you met, how he treated you well or how he completely made you forget your own name.

“You are mine. And I don’t want anybody to touch you.” He whispered, resting his forehead on yours.

This contact made you close your eyes so you could enjoy his presence once again.

“Just ditch him…”

You shook your head, “I can’t. He’s nice to me.”

“And I am too.” He kissed your cheek.

“He’s giving me what I want.” You gently rested your palm on his torso, trying to push him a bit.

“I can give it to you too.” He slowly went to kiss your neck, your weak spot. “All night long.”

His offer was interesting, of course. But you remembered that after this “night” he wouldn’t text you or ask how your day went as Seungyeon does.

"No." You pushed him stronger this time and stepped back. “I don’t want to be a friend with benefits anymore. I just want to be a girlfriend.”

Your heart was beating so fast in your chest that you thought it would explode the next minute. Maybe it would be the time where Seonghwa would change the status of your relationship or simply disappear as he usually does.

“I just want to be special to someone and not only because I slept with them.” You added, not liking the silence that settled.

“If you want me to be yours and not only in your bed at night then say it now. Otherwise, there’s a movie which is waiting for me.”

His lips parted for a second then closed right after.

You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

You pushed his hand away from your forearm.

“Excuse me, but I have a movie to see.”

You exchanged one last stare together, then you left to join Seungyeon.

The more you walked away from him, the more you felt your heart clenching in your chest.

When the door closed behind you, you brushed off the tear which was sliding on your cheek.

“Ah you there,” smiled Seungyeon when he saw you.

“Yeah sorry. Did I miss something?”

“Nop, only ads.”

“Good.” You sat down, blinking a few times to suppress the tears.

“Are you okay?” He asked, still worried for you.

You nodded, biting your tongue.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You whispered, taking a deep breath to forget this conversation.

When the room dimmed in the dark, you remembered that your phone wasn’t mute.

Just when you were about to turn it off, you received a text from Seonghwa.

[“Let’s finish our conversation.”]

You noticed that he didn’t write “tonight” like he usually does.

“It’s starting.” Whispered Seungyeon, when he saw you still on your phone.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” You apologized for not being focused.

[“K.] You replied before turning it off.

You felt bad for agreeing to meet Seonghwa while you were sitting next to someone who probably likes you.

“What I am doing...” you whispered to yourself.

#ateez reader insert #ateez fluff #ateez seonghwa #ateez suggestive #ateez angst #ateez writings #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez kpop #ateez

[leewritesstuff]

Lose You To Love Me |Tom Holland x Reader

Paring: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Losing someone hurts, but knowing that things get better, feels fine. You were dating Tom but feels as if you guys were slowly drifting away

Song: Lose You To Love Me

Masterlist

This is my first Tom Holland works, it's a little rusty since I haven't written something that isn't anime for a while.

You promised the world and I fell for it I put you first and you adored it Set fires to my forest And you let it burn Sang off-key in my chorus 'Cause it wasn't yours

Having an on-and-off relationship was difficult. Especially when the relationship was a secret. You wanted to come out and be public but Tom didn't. The excuses were 'They will attack you' or 'I'm just not ready' but to see him posing for pictures with other models and celebrities made you feel as if you were a secret as if he was a shame.

Moving from the kitchen to sit in the living room couches, you played with his hair, feeling his soft curls between your fingers.

"Tom do you think we could go to that new cafe that opens up down the straight? I hear that they sell amazing cupca-" Without looking up from his phone, he replies with "I would love to but I don't want anyone spotting us" "Well that's fine if they do, don't you think it's time that they know?" "I just want us to keep some stuff to ourselves, ya know?" Letting out a sigh, you leaned your body off of his, grabbed the remote to turn on the tv.

I saw the signs and I ignored it Rose-colored glasses all distorted Set fire to my purpose And I let it burn You got off on the hurtin' When it wasn't yours, yeah

"Who the fuck is her huh?! Is that why you can't hang out? Or why you're always so late? You never have time to spend with me, heck you don't even say sorry for missing out on our planned dates!" "For fucking sake Y/N! Not everything is about you! I told you I was running late because I was at a party for work! You of all people are supposed to know that!" "I wouldn't be feeling this way if people weren't taking pictures of you and that model! Friends don't act that way! You don't see me acting that way with Harrison!"

"I swear it's like you're my fucking mother. I'm a grown-ass man, I can do whatever the hell I want! Stop bitching every fucking time!"

You looked at him in shock, still trying to register the words he used on you. Some fans have been speculating that you and Tom were dating but that was quickly debunked when a few pictures of Tom and another model were 'rumored' to be dating.

At first the rumors didn't bother you. It was for an upcoming movie, but after a while of countless photos of them together, it started to make you feel a type of way, jealously, insecure.

You didn't exactly notice that your relationship was falling apart, only feeling the distance. You nodded your head at him, "Alright"

He watched you, anger from the fight filling up his veins. He was tired of having the same fight with you every time a picture of him and a girl gets posted.

He walked over to you and grabbed your hands, holding them tightly, "Look, I'm not cheating okay? You know how the paps get when they see something like a good story. I love you, and only you okay? You just have to trust me"

You leaned into his touch, hugging him back. Still not feeling secure but decides to ignore it.

He never did say sorry to those planned dates.

We'd always go into it blindly I needed to lose you to find me This dancing was killing me softly I needed to hate you to love me, yeah

After the incident that happens two weeks ago, nothing was the same. The relationship started getting more toxic, one of you would be yelling at the other or mentally abusing eachotherTom started coming home late and was spending more time outside than with you. He wasn't even home for your anniversary, instead, he chose to go to a pub. You tried to get Harrison to speak to him, but he would always come back at you, yelling at you for dragging his friend into his.

So you decided to go to the pub he was in.

You called up your best friend and got yourself ready. You didn't expect the pub to be so filled, but then again clubbing was never really your thing. Music blazing, the smell of alcohol in the air. bodies rolling on each other. Your friend asks you if you were fine then heads straight to the dance floor.

You head to the bar and asked the bartender for a drink. After receiving your drink you sat on one of the stools and drink it, looking around to see if your boyfriend was around.

Finishing the drink and not seeing him, you were starting to feel bad for doubting him, getting ready to leave, you got up but when you do, you saw someone who looks like Tom grinding into a blonde girl.Confusion written on your face. You walk up closer to get a good look, surprised, shock, and anger running through your veins.

You watched as he grinds his hips into her, feeling her up with his hands. It made you sick. Disgusted. What made you feel even sicker was when he turned her around and held a full make-out session with her. Feeling the tears flow from your eyes, you left and tried to find your friend.

You explained to her what happen and even in her drunken state, she tried to comfort you, you both left and head home.

So much for being the only one.

To love, love, yeah To love, love, yeah To love, yeah I needed to hate you to love me, yeah

For days you felt like shit, for days you ignored his calls, for days you hated him.

You couldn't stand seeing his face, seeing how he was trying to pretend as if ntohing ever happened. It hurt you to know that he was playing his pretend role as if he was acting about how he feels about you. He tried calling but his calls were always ignored.

Tom felt as if you were slowly slipping away from him. He didn't know what he had done wrong. He thought everything was going well. He tried calling one more time, then gave up, deciding to give you your space.

To love, love, yeah To love, love, yeah To love, yeah I needed to lose you to love me

Saying hello was always easy but saying goodbye was the hardest thing to do.Trying to shove all your clothes into the suitcase, shoving his hands off so your shoulder. You watch him, feeling no emotions, just blank. Empty. Nothing.

"I never thought, you of all people would cheat on me." "What do you mean? I never-" "Oh don't lie Thomas, I saw you, a few weeks ago when you were at the club. , If our relationship wasn't good why couldn't you have said anything? I spent days, weeks trying to get you to talk to me but no. I'm not even surprised, I mean they say actors lie about their true feelings, I guess I missed the warnings huh?"

Tom watched you in shock, not expecting you to call him out on that. He didn't plan for this to happen, it was supposed to be a one-time thing but the thrill and excitement he got made him feel something. He didn't mean to hurt you, but he did. And that was something that he could never take back.

"I'm sorry.." You let out a laugh, this whole situation was funny, "Now you're sorry, for what? For missing out on dates? Coming home late? Ignoring me? Oh wait is it because you got caught cheating on me with some bimbo right?"

"Don't call her that!"

"Ha, you even protect her... I thought you were different, but I guess I was wrong"

And now the chapter is closed and done To love, love, yeah To love, love, yeah To love, yeah

Months passed, four to be exact and you have been doing better after moving out of Tom's you were able to afford an apartment for yourself which you then rented out half to your friend. You got promoted from your job and now you're working for more money.

Standing in line, to order your favorite cup of drink, someone bounced into you, knocking their drink on you.

"Watch it you asshole!" "Y/N?"

You look up and notice Tom standing in front of you, holding two cups of coffee.

"Hey, how have you been?" "I've been good, have a few acting roles coming up for a new movie. How about you? I remember you were working for a fashion store"

"I became manager, the pay is nice. If I keep it up they might move me to another firm that pays higher"

He nodded his head at you, feeling a bit proud of you," Well I'm in town for a bit, I won't be leaving until next month"

"Nice" Que the awkwardness

"Hey look, I'm sorry for how things turned out, I didn't mean for it to happen. I was kind of hoping that we could probably talk like we used to, or go to dinner or-"

"Look, Tom, no hard feelings but I'm over that. I have a life now, you started this and you can't make me forget all the pain that you caused me. I'm over that, I'm done crying and you should too."

He nodded his head, trying to hide the disappointment he's feeling, he tried to put on a smile to play it off but you know better, "Well I hope to see you again"

Grabbing your cup of coffee from the cashier, you paid her and face time. You said something which made his smile dropped as he watched you walk out.

"And now it's goodbye, it's goodbye for us"

#angst #tomholland #tom holland imagines #tom holland x reader #x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland x you #romance #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland fic #fanfiction #oneshot #lyrics #songlyrics

[seasonofthewicth]

nobody does it like you do - act 1

I'm finally back with some more rowaelin! I started this fic in november last year and wrote the first 10k in 24 hours, but from then on this fic was a struggle... Thank you so, so much to @morganofthewildfire for sharing so much of your time to help me with this, this fic would not be here without you 💗 I'm so happy to have finally finished it and can share it on here. I hope you enjoy

CW: past drug abuse, minor character death, violence

7.7k - masterlist - ao3

--

When her agent sends her the script it’s not the first time she’s heard of Rowan Whitethorn, his name is written at the top under the heading director, which itself is under the big red text reading confidential. He’s been at this stuff for a while now, directed a couple of movies that popped up on her radar but that nothing ever came of for her, and he’s well known in the business.

He was even nominated for an Oscar a couple of years ago, and she watched the ceremony with Lysandra, slapping the bills into her outstretched hand when he didn’t win.

His movie had been far too fucking raw for him to have won, she knew that, a tale about a group of kids who witnessed a murder and how it stayed with them and fucked them up into adulthood, but it had stuck with her nonetheless and she’d put her money on him anyway.

She reads the section of script Dorian has sent her, tucked up in bed with a glass of sparkling water and her most comfortable sweater, leaning back into the mountain of expensive pillows she had Elide buy for her and pondering how so much money could end up so uncomfortable, and she knows it’s something special.

She realises she wants this role, almost to an uncomfortable degree, when she’s about five lines in. The heroine is bratty and rash, but serious and pained in a way that makes her completely fleshed out and Aelin wants to play her, wants to be her and embody her in a way that takes her out of the pit she’s in.

She hopes this could be what gets her out of it.

Aedion had tried to pull her out, gods bless him, dropping by her apartment every morning for weeks to check up on her with a coffee in his hand, topped with cream and two sugars the way he knows she likes. Each morning he let himself in with her spare key, the one she gave to him the day she moved in, wanting him to be able to let himself in whenever he wanted but also knowing there was no one else she wanted to give it to.

She would have given it to Sam, would have given everything to Sam, but he’s gone and she’s left sitting here, wondering how to salvage what’s left of her reputation.

What reputation she had even managed to build after starring in one mediocre TV show and a handful of low-budget movies. She knows deep down, and in a way her brain likes to remind her of when she’s at her lowest, that the main reason she isn’t a complete nobody is because she’s Evalin Ashryver’s daughter. Her therapist tells her every time she bothers to go to a session that having a famous mother doesn’t mean she’s a failure and that she has to recognise each of her successes as her own. She nods along every time, but she doesn’t believe her. What has she managed to accomplish truly on her own?

It hasn’t been made public yet that Rowan Whitethorn is involved in the film, she only knows because Chaol wrote the whole script himself and texted her to let her know when he signed on to direct. She’s known Chaol since she was eighteen and took her first solo trip to Rifthold, drawn to the lights of the big city and the almost magnetic pull of the heart of the industry. He’d stumbled upon her in a club she was far too young to be in and had pulled her out, sending her home in a cab that he paid for. Looking back she was grateful for his attempt to avoid what she knew later was an inevitability.

She had cursed him when he told her she’d still have to audition, but she gets it. She hasn’t exactly behaved in a way recently that makes people want to take a chance on her.

Stumbling out of clubs, eyes as wide as saucers and high as a fucking kite isn’t the kind of star casting directors are desperate to hire, but she’s trying to be better. She’s promised those around her that she’ll be better, and she knows that the only reason she hasn’t ended up in rehab is that she has an incredible therapist and a highly persuasive manner of dealing with her friends and family. The only reason they’ve taken that chance on her is time, and she’s grateful for that mercy.

She turns the page, hitting the final line for the third time. Chaol’s script is so good she’s read the few pages she’s been sent over and over.

She only reads scripts in physical copies, takes the time to print them out using her shitty printer that belongs right back in 2008, and she knows it’s wasteful but she allows herself that small luxury of the crisp paper in her hand as she delves into each new world. Her character is in the middle of a teary monologue that she knows exactly how she’d do, the way she’d halt her breath and choke out the words-- it’s not her character. Yet.

The audition is next week, and she’ll work her ass off to make sure she’s ready. Her usual pre-audition ritual involves taking up far too much of Lysandra’s time to practice reading the lines and filming herself time after time, take after take, and watching it back in the unholy hours of night until she’s happy she’s made an improvement.

Or at least that’s how she used to do it, nothing has made her want a role like this in a long while. She worries as she bites her lip, that wanting something this much means she’s getting over Sam. That maybe one day she won’t think of him and hear the pounding in her ears, won’t feel the lightheadedness that comes with a memory of their time together. Worries that if she forgets the sounds of his screams she’s failing him somehow.

She takes another sip of her sparkling water. It’s poured into a wine glass so she can at least pretend she’ll get the relaxation she craves. Alcohol was never one of her vices but she finds it’s better to be safe than sorry. It’s unhealthy as far as coping mechanisms go, but she’s been worse so it’s going down as a win.

Chaol told her some guy called Brullo is casting this one. She’s never heard of him, which is kind of rare. She’s been on the periphery of this bubble for pretty much her entire life, following her mother around her own movie sets and sitting on the wooden directors chair when her legs still dangled off the side, but if he’s like any other casting director in Adarlan she knows how to impress him.

When she reaches the last line of the part of the script she’s been sent, her mind wanders again to Rowan Whitethorn.

He’s the kind of director up and coming actors can only hope to one day work with, even though she’s pretty sure he can’t be much more than thirty, he’s built himself to a level where he can be choosy with his projects.

It's a well deserved privilege. Each of his works has stayed with her after watching, his style is gritty and dark, but grounded in a way that leaves her empty each time after finishing.

She wants this, and she buries the guilt she feels for that. Sam would want her to want this. She deserves it, or at least she hopes she can come to.

Dorian books her a mid-morning flight so she doesn’t have to wake too early before the audition, he’s a damn good agent and one she definitely doesn’t deserve with his seemingly endless patience, but she’s continuously grateful for him.

Aelin styles herself for it, ties her hair back and leaves the makeup to a minimum in a way that she hopes shows them she’s right for the part, that she can be the insecure little girl who experiences far too much. She knows she doesn’t have the sheltered innocence the character has, but she’s an actress and this is what she does. Aelin pretends for a living.

He’s also booked her a room in a pretty nice hotel for the night, she’s not sure whether he’s used her meagre acting funds or the funds from the account she knows he mom throws money into every month. It’s an argument she and Evalin have had repeatedly, she wants to stand on her own two feet, but she never protests too hard. The account kept the roof over her head when she was too busy snorting her life away to consider where her next paycheck would come from.

Aelin throws herself backwards into the crisp white bedding on the hotel room bed and takes a deep breath. The only luggage she brought with her is a carry on slung somewhere by the door and the room feels too empty to sit here and wait for the car that’s arriving to take her to the studio in just over an hour. If she sits here and waits the nerves will only build, and then she’ll itch for something to take the edge off.

She picks her phone up to text her cousin.

Jet lag from a 2 hour flight. Who would have thought?

Aelin waits two minutes for a reply, locking and unlocking her phone as she sits there, but one doesn’t come. Aedion’s probably at a training session and not checking his phone. Aelin runs a hand through her hair, careful not to dislodge the pins she placed carefully in it this morning, she needs to stop using him as her crutch. She knows he doesn’t mind, but it’s not right either way.

She needs to get out of this room.

The streets of Rifthold are busy and crammed as she meanders down them, clutching the takeout coffee cup she bought from a vendor with a stall at the side of the road.

People pay her no mind as she walks, the oversized shades hide her eyes that she knows are a dead giveaway for her membership of the Ashryver line. Even if she didn’t wear them, everybody else here wants to be someone, and so far she can still blend in if she tries.

She sends a text to the assistant organising the audition, it’s kind of shitty of her but she keeps it brief because she can’t remember their name, letting them know the car isn’t needed anymore and that she’ll make her own way there. She needs the stroll through the streets to clear her head.

Aelin needs to nail it. She hasn’t felt the twisting of desire so sharp in her stomach for a long time and the only way she’ll manage it is with a clear head.

She alternates her breathing with sips of her coffee, the taste is bitter but she keeps drinking. She pulls her phone out to check the directions to the studio.

Spontaneous isn’t a word Aelin would use to describe herself anymore, any longing to go with the flow died the minute she lost control. It’s safer now to plan, to make sure she won’t lead herself astray.

Brullo is a man in his mid forties, with dashes of grey seasoned through his muddy brown hair, and kind lines around his eyes as he smiles and shakes her hand. Aelin wipes the sweat off her palm on her jeans before clasping her hand in his.

The audition goes about as well as she can hope for, she remembers every line, and the other casting director is fairly natural reading the lines for her to act against. Aelin swallows back her tears after she finishes, trying to keep what dignity she can to end the audition when there’s snot threatening to run down her upper lip. It was a brutal scene to start with, but if she can pull this off she can surely manage the rest.

Brullo’s expression is carefully guarded as she leaves, giving nothing away, but Aelin thinks she did a good job, which is all she could have ever hoped for.

She’s staring at the tiled floor, mulling over Brullo’s parting words, thanks Aelin, our people will be in touch, when she hits something hard and warm.

She’s too busy dissecting those eight words to register exactly who it is with their hands clamped around the top of her arms, steadying her as she stumbles, but she looks up and her gaze meets that of a pair of striking, green eyes.

The man gripping her is easily over a head taller than her, broad and strong enough that she fights back the shiver that wants to roll through her at his touch. He’s staring down at her, the strong planes of his face drawn into a deep frown, with his strangely coloured eyebrows pulled in.

They’re a kind of silver that matches his short cut hair, and it shines in the fluorescent light of the hallway in a way that it can only be natural, but she’s never seen a shade quite like it.

“Sorry,” she manages to stutter out, still thrown from the vulnerability of her audition.

“It’s alright.” His voice burns through the words, his accent rolling in a way that raises hairs down the back of her neck. He flashes her a dangerous grin and she steadies herself. She knows what that look means. She’s used to the male attention, and as much as she hates to acknowledge it, she knows her looks are an element of how she’s got as far as she has. That and her family’s name.

The decision of whether to register in the guild as Aelin Ashryver or Aelin Galathynius was one she had spent hours deliberating over. Did she want the level of independence Galathynius would give her, or the reputation being an Ashryver would bring?

The man releases his grip on her shoulders, but not before running his hands down her arms until he reaches her wrists which he releases with a light squeeze. She takes an almost imperceptible step back, leaning back to breathe some air into her lungs. All she ends up doing is filling her mind with this man’s smell, inviting and intoxicating, a delicious combination of pine trees and snowy winter mornings.

“I don’t usually go around slamming into people like this,” she tells him, letting some of her snark slip through. He’s said two words to her so far but she knows he can take it, and she wants to play.

His grin becomes even more wicked and it truly is a sight to see. This man is built like a god; broad, muscular shoulders stretching the white button up he wears and she spies the dark lines of a tattoo threatening to slip past his collar.

It’s been a couple of months since her last mindless hook-up, and this man would more than do. The mischief glimmering in his eyes tells her he’d know how to make her gasp and beg.

“Slam into me anytime.” His words are a sensual croon and her mouth drops open slightly, but he sidesteps her before she can manage to speak again, nodding towards the door she’s come through. “Good luck with whatever you were here for.”

With that he’s gone, leaving her to turn and watch the way his grey slacks pull against his thighs as he walks away from her.

Aelin tries not to think too much about the outcome of the audition, and flies back to Orynth in economy class with a sleep mask tucked over her eyes lest she be recognised when all she wants to do is curl up in bed and be alone for a bit. That or get fucking wasted, and she can’t do that.

She tries far too hard to forget about the man from the hallway, forget about the way his voice had rumbled deep in her chest and the tug in her belly that his words had sent through her.

She begs Elide to come to a bar with her, and she agrees. Aelin needs to pay her more, maybe change her title from publicist to publicist-come-part-time-therapist-and-life-saver. Aelin’s not sure she has the budget for that really.

Elide would smack her if she knew Aelin’s thoughts. Would scold her for looking at Elide just like an employee as if they weren’t childhood friends and Elide hadn’t been there holding her hand through the whole Sam thing. As if she, Lysandra and Aedion hadn’t been her only reason for being here now.

A bar might be a risk, but she can sip her sparkling water while she browses the small selection of men that Orynth has to offer.

She enjoys the easy conversation she has with Elide, chatting about what their friends have been up to, even though most of them are mainly Elide’s friends at this point. After Sam she stopped speaking to everyone but those who were necessary. She couldn’t manage any more than that.

“You should come with us next time,” Elide is saying as she sips her own lemonade. Aelin knows Elide would normally choose a crisp glass of white wine over a lemonade and her sobriety solidarity touches her heart.

“Maybe,” she shrugs, noncommittal.

The look Elide wears tells her she’s debating pushing the issue for the millionth time against the risk that Aelin would pull back again. She hates that she does this to her friends so she sighs.

“Text me next time,” she tries. “I’ll see if I’m free.”

Elide offers her a thankful smile, and Aelin returns it, trying to tell herself this is what she needs and that she shouldn’t just stay locked up thinking about Sam.

There’s a dark haired guy at the bar catching her eye, his jeans are far too tight and his shirt is ridiculous, but she can see the body beneath and his face is striking. Elide notices her stare and smirks.

She likely knows why Aelin invited her out tonight, but doesn’t mind. Lorcan’s probably waiting for her at the home they share, waiting for her to come back so they can be in love. Aelin hates the bastard, except she doesn’t. She introduced her friend to the tall, dark and grouchy hockey player at the wrap party for the shit teen movie she did a couple of years back, and she’s big enough to admit she wants what they have.

She had what they have.

What’s left in her glass slips down her throat easily in one mouthful and she promises to text Elide tomorrow before slipping out of the booth and over to the guy at the bar.

“You going to just stare at me all night?” She asks with a sly smile. “Or did you plan on doing something about it at some point?”

His smile makes him look even more attractive.

“Maybe I was waiting for you to make the first move, a beautiful girl like you can be intimidating.”

It’s a shit line and she rolls her eyes, but tugs him into a cab back to her place anyway.

“Please.” Her voice shakes as she begs. “Please don’t do this.”

The man in front of them scoffs and Sam squeezes her hand, his palm rough against her own.

“Aelin, baby. It’s okay, just do what he says.”

He lets go of her hand and turns back to the guy in front of them. His face is covered by a black mask, only two slits show her the dark brown of his eyes. She can barely look away from the knife he holds out in front of himself, it’s pointed at Sam but that doesn’t make her feel any better, it makes her feel worse in fact.

“Your wallet,” the guy demands.

Tears are rolling down her cheeks, fat and hot, as she fishes around in her bag for her purse.

“Just dump the whole thing,” the guy growls, irritated, but she’s pretty sure she’s going into shock and she can’t focus. Can’t breathe.

Sam’s voice is steady by her side as he throws his own wallet onto the street in front of them.

“Alright, man. We’re doing everything you say.”

“Hands up.” The mugger’s voice is sharp. “Don’t fucking move.”

She raises her arms straight in the air, trying to control the way her hands are shaking and the attacker ducks down to grab their things.

She lets out a tiny whimper and feels Sam spin to her, his eyes begging her to trust him. No, she shakes her head.

“I said don’t fucking move,” the guy yells and lunges for Sam.

His scream cuts the night air and she whirls, hands dropping into the air between them as he drops to the ground. The mugger takes off, sprinting down the empty street and she falls to her knees by Sam’s side.

In the dark, the pool spilling out across the floor by Sam’s side just looks black, but she knows that really it’s red. She’s not stupid. His face is twisted in pain and her hands flutter around his torso before she manages to pull back the flap of his jacket.

There’s a hole in his white t-shirt and now her jeans are wet where she kneels.

She needs her phone, needs to call someone who can make this all better, but her phone is gone.

She presses her hands against his side and his eyes shutter closed as he gasps. His breathing is stuttered and uneven.

“Sam. Sam, no,” she cries. “I’ll get help. You’re okay.”

“Aelin.” He raises a hand to press against her cheek, and the blood on it is sticky and warm.

“No, Sam. No, stay with me.”

The scream that tears through her throat will hurt tomorrow but now she barely feels it. “HELP!”

His breathing becomes much quicker as she presses on his side and screams again.

She knows abstractly that she’s crying, tears and snot streaming down her face as she desperately presses her hands against his side.

There’s a strong arm around her waist, tugging her back and away from Sam, and she screams one word over and over.

“No, no, no, no.”

There are people here now, leaning over Sam, leaning over his body.

“NO.”

Aelin gasps as she launches up in her bed. The sheets are stuck to her clammy skin and her head flies to the side. The guy is gone, the side of the bed he occupied when she fell asleep now cold. Good.

She lives it over and over in her dreams, sees the dark street more often than not, feels the phantom warmth of his blood down her legs. Wakes screaming herself hoarse just as she did that night. She doesn’t normally let people stay the night. Even when Aedion tried for the first few weeks after the fact, she couldn’t sleep, couldn’t turn her brain off for even a second. Every time she closed her eyes she was back on that street, begging and pleading for him to open his eyes.

She grasps at her side for the switch of her bedside lamp and flicks it on. Her room is cold and empty and she hasn’t had it in her to decorate past the basics so it’s plain and impersonal when she looks around, trying to calm her breathing.

She checks the time. 6:25am. Not bad, she must have managed about six hours of sleep last night, and it’s more than she usually gets.

There're a few texts waiting in her inbox, including one from Elide, and she expects it to be a request to let her know that she got home safe but it’s not.

Call me as soon as you wake up.

Sent at 6:02am. Elide is a chronic overworker, no matter how much Aelin begs her to stick to a 9 to 5 schedule, but she couldn't imagine her friend any other way. The smiling emoji at the end of the text lets her know it’s nothing she needs to panic about, so she takes a moment to scroll through her other messages. It’s unusual for her to wake up to so many.

She clicks on her conversation with Dorian, the only message she can see, his most recent one, just says Aelin. He has sent her nine messages while she slept, and she scrolls up to reach the first one.

Aelin, you did it. You booked the Rowan Whitethorn movie.

Her heart pounds in her chest, running into overdrive as she processes the words on her screen.

She got the part. She fucking did it.

This is one of those moments she knows she’ll remember.

Dorian has forwarded over a number of contracts and official things but she ignores them in favour of dialling Elide’s number.

“Aelin!” Her friend’s voice is breathy when she answers. “Congratulations, I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks, El.” A pause where she takes a deep breath in. “I can’t believe it.”

She falls back onto her mattress, pressing a fist to her lips as she smiles, eyes closed, almost giddy as she listens to her friend talk.

“They’re putting a press release out today at 12:30, announcing you and the male lead, who I haven’t found out yet but I will.”

“Oh my gods,” she sighs, covering her eyes with a clammy hand.

“I know,” Elide laughs.

She allows herself one tear as she stares up at the white of her ceiling.

This is big, she can feel it.

Later her phone buzzes as Elide sends her links to two different articles breaking the news.

Fenrys Moonbeam and Aelin Ashryver to star in new Chaol Westfall drama. More to follow.

Rowan Whitethorn signs on to direct The Crescent City, the latest project from Chaol Westfall (Throne of Glass, The King’s Hand & more).

She presses the phone to her chest as she lets out a sigh of relief.

It all moves pretty quickly from that point.

She’s on a plane back to Rifthold the next day and Chaol has sent over the whole script for her to read on the plane, bypassing Dorian completely even though that’s how it normally goes and she knows the two are like brothers.

Chaol was the one to introduce her to Dorian, and they kind of took her under their showbiz wings in the first few years she began to get really serious about acting.

They gave her the inside scoop, having been in the industry for a few more years than her. Chaol writing and making movies and Dorian doing all the background stuff like contracts and negotiations and exposure. They took her to their wrap parties that everyone knows are just networking events and introduced her to some of the big names in the industry without so much as batting an eyelid, and she knows she owes them a lot.

The script is phenomenal, and she has to try and hide the tears that form when she reaches the end, it probably wouldn’t be the best start to the project, being photographed crying on the plane on the way to start shooting. It really is some of Chaol’s best work, and she sends him a text when she lands that says fuck you, I hate it, but his reply lets her know he knows she’s joking.

It tells the story of her character, Feyre, and how she’s dragged into selling drugs to pay for her mom’s hospital bills. Along the way she meets Fenrys Moonbeam’s character, Rhysand, the glowering bad-boy who’s well established in the gang and together they see some shit and do some shit but manage to get out together. The topics are kind of cliché and over done, but Chaol has managed to add a level of originality to it that makes it really special.

It’s heavier on the romance than Rowan Whitethorn’s previous projects, but it’s gritty enough that she can see why he’s signed on. It’s going to be hard, she knows this, and it will really push her to her limits trying to embody the range of emotions her character goes through. But she wants it, and she will make her performance incredible if it fucking kills her.

There’s a niggling part of her brain that reminds her that she’s surrounded by some big names on this project, names that are big for a reason, and she can’t let them hiring her be a mistake.

She sends Chaol a follow up text, wtf are these names btw???

He ignores her.

When she’s in the car taking her to the apartment the studio is renting out for her while they film she decides to take a little trip through Instagram and look up her new co-star. Fenrys is a household name by now, a couple of years in after his debut, but it can’t hurt to know a little more about her leading man.

f.moonbeam01 comes up as the first option when the types the three letters f e n into the search bar and he has over eleven million followers.

Shit.

Not that she needs a reminder but it slaps her in the face that this is actually big. Aelin only has a few thousand followers herself and Elide has already told her to prepare herself for that to rise.

His Instagram is a mixture of mostly photos of himself, some selfies and some professional shots, and he’s obviously gorgeous. His deep brown complexion playing well against his golden curls with a straight strong nose and flawless white teeth. He’s definitely leading man material, and she can tell just how charming his grin is even through a screen.

There are also promo pictures for all the movies he’s involved in at the moment, there are at least three projects he has coming out this year. Damn.

His most recent picture is a screenshot of the article announcing their casting, and he’s actually tagged her in the photo along with Rowan himself. She hasn’t seen the tag until now, it’s normally Elide’s job as her publicist to tackle the professional side to her social media, but there’s 6.4 million likes on the photo.

Again, shit.

She can’t help herself from clicking onto Rowan’s account, rowanwhitethorn is a pretty simple handle. He only has 27 posts, most of them are behind the scenes shots from projects, one with his classic director’s chair that has his surname printed across the back in thick white lettering, and a few pictures of different cameras and pieces of equipment.

There’s only one picture of him on there, and it’s from 2017. He has his back to the camera and the sunset behind him lends a shadow that covers all of his features. Very artsy she muses to herself as she double taps the screen to like it, he probably won’t see anyway, the notification will probably get lost in the ones his account no doubt gets from his 2 million followers. The only thing she can gather from the photo about his physical appearance is that he has pretty broad shoulders.

She’s tempted to google him, wanting to know what he looks like, but she feels a bit too much like a stalker, and she knows she’ll meet him in a couple of days anyway so she leaves it and pulls up her emails to reply to the seemingly endless list of forms she has to fill out and send back to Dorian.

The apartment she’s living in for the next few months is modern and airy, with clean lines and bright decor. Aelin likes it, and while it’s not hers in the same way as her home back in Orynth, it’s far better than a hotel room that lower budget movies tend to shove actors in. Another reminder that this time is different, there’s a bigger budget than she’s used to, bigger names than she’s used to, and she can’t fuck this up. There’s more eyes on her now than ever before.

She sends Elide a picture of her new bedroom and her friend just replies with a bunch of exclamation marks and she forwards the picture across to Lysandra too. Aelin wanders through to the kitchen, wondering if anyone bothered to stock the kitchen, not that she can’t do groceries herself, it would just be nice. She’s delighted to find a fridge full of fresh produce and gets about making herself a dish of pasta and veggies.

She tucks herself in front of the big television, munching away as she watches some National Geographic documentary about whales and it helps to take her mind off the fact that this is her last night of peace for a while. She’s trying not to get too in her head about it, there’s a fine line between knowing it’s a big deal and freaking the fuck out about it, and she needs to stay on the right side of that line, needs to keep herself in check.

If she allows herself a moment to relax, a moment to sink into the situation and bask in the opportunity; she’s excited.

And depending on how well this movie does, she knows she may not have another night like this one. Somehow the thought doesn’t seem to scare her.

Lysandra calls her as she’s waiting for the car to arrive to take her to the studio, it's day one of their table read today and she’s tired. She spent all of last night tossing and turning, unable to shut her mind off and panicking over every single detail of how this day could go.

She’s lucky it’s only a table read, she’s not sure even a professional make-up artist would be able to cover the dark circles under her eyes.

“Hello, you.” Lysandra’s voice is cheery through the phone and Aelin smiles, she’s really missed Lysandra and hasn’t taken nearly enough time to seek her out during her recent whirlwind. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

They had texted since the news dropped, but with Lysandra shooting a campaign for a brand she can’t remember somewhere over in the Southern Continent they haven’t had time yet for a call.

“Thanks Lys,” she says as she gets into the back of the sleek black car that the studio has sent for her, tucking her small black backpack onto the seat next to her. It’s all she can use at this point, any other bag just makes her think of that night.

“How’s it going? Have you met everyone yet?”

Lysandra runs in these circles of A list celebrities and Aelin wouldn't be surprised if she already knew Fenrys. She met Lysandra when they were teens; years before her first show for Victoria’s Secret, years before she was walking for people like Gucci and Prada, and they stayed close when they were both living off cheap ramen and thin strands of hope. Aelin likes to tease her about hanging with a lowly C-lister like herself but Lysandra is always quick to quip that she’s maybe a G-lister at a push.

That could change.

“I haven’t met anyone so far, but I’m literally on my way to meet everyone now.”

“That’s exciting, you’ll have to let me know if Fenrys Moonbeam is really that good looking in person.”

“So you don’t already know him?” she asks, teasing. Maybe Lysandra doesn’t know quite everyone.

“Oh you know, apart from every week-end when we hook-up, we’re not really that good friends.”

Aelin laughs, mostly to herself, knowing that somewhere out there that probably is a story that’s cropped up in some cheap tabloid. She knows there’s probably some dating rumours about herself and Fenrys already even though she’s still yet to meet him. It’s just how it is, she knows this, has known this since she was old enough to read the stories about her parents’ messy divorce.

“What does Aedion have to say about that, hm?”

“Oh, he joins us obviously!” Lysandra’s laugh is bright and loud through the grainy speaker.

No-one is more desperate for Aedion to propose to Lysandra than Aelin, not even the magazines, desperate for a scoop of the golden couple, quarterback for the Rifthold Ravens and the world-famous supermodel.

“I think I’ve heard enough, thanks,” Aelin laughs as the car pulls through security checks at the studio. “Lys, I have to go, I’ve just got to the studio.”

“Okay, good luck! Promise you’ll call me later though and let me know how it goes.”

She needs to make sure she puts aside a minute to catch up properly with Lysandra, she’s been slacking recently and she knows her friend misses her. She misses Lysandra too, and Aedion. Maybe she’ll stay with them for a couple of days when she gets a break from filming, she can probably see them far more often now that she’s in Rifthold too.

“I promise,” she agrees. “Tell Aedion to make sure he spoils you from me.”

Lysandra snorts, “Oh he does, I’ll pass it along anyway though.”

“Means a lot. Love you, got to go.”

Lysandra’s returning love you is sincere, but she cuts off the phone as the car comes to a stop outside the plain brick building.

She readies herself in the back of the car, pulling down a deep breath to center herself, she can do this.

The girl leading her to the room doesn’t speak other than to tell Aelin to follow right this way, and she’s grateful, she’s not sure she could speak right now without vomiting all over the dated linoleum flooring.

She needs to get a grip, and fight the urge for a hit that strikes her when she’s nervous like this. It could make her fears disappear, at least for a moment before they all came crashing back down ten-times worse the minute the high faded. There is a reason she packed that shit in, and she knows her nerves will pass. It’s been a while since she’s done any of this, her last movie read was pre-Sam and no matter how hard she tries to push it down, there’s a lot of pressure on her for this to go well.

The girl pauses outside an unassuming white door and holds a hand out to gesture for Aelin to go in. She rolls her shoulders back, holding her head high before she steps into the room. If all else fails she’s still Evalin Ashryver’s daughter and to some people that is something to be proud of.

Fenrys Moonbeam is the first person to catch her eye when she steps into the room, and it seems he’s done some stalking too because he ends his conversation by the food table with some others she doesn’t recognise and bounds straight over to her with a grin.

“Aelin Ashryver,” he says, his voice deep and smooth like velvet. “I’ve heard of you. It’s a pleasure.”

“You have?” She’s both surprised and not at the same time as she holds a hand out for him to shake.

He bypasses the hand she holds out and tugs her into his chest, wrapping both arms around her and knocking her backpack off her shoulder.

“I have,” he says as he bends down to pick her bag back up. “Sorry about that.”

She shakes her head. She needs to stop acting like a bewildered school girl meeting the Queen, she needs to remember that she has second billing for this movie thanks to Dorian.

“Don’t worry about it.” Aelin finds a smile and plasters it on.

Someone calls for everyone to take their seats and she notices the name placards spaced out in front of each chair. She locates her own and it's surreal to see her name printed there, Aelin Ashryver, between Fenrys and another actress playing her sister called Manon Blackbeak. She’s even less known than Aelin, and she only feels slightly guilty for how much that relaxes her.

Aelin knows how this goes down, they sit opposite the production team, the director and all the executive producers and she realises that she’s opposite the sign that reads Rowan Whitethorn.

She slides into her seat, Fenrys and Manon chatting over her head as she does, and she spots a male slipping into the chair opposite her. He’s wearing a slim-fit forest green henley and dark jeans, his shoulders are just as broad as they were in his Instagram photo and here there’s no shadow across his handsome features.

She can’t deny that he’s attractive, she knew it the first time she saw him. Her stare locks onto the man from the hallway after her audition and he smirks at her as if they have a secret. And maybe they do, but now she’s realising that he’s her boss, and a little voice in her head that sounds suspiciously like Elide is whispering to her that opportunities like this don’t come around everyday.

She owes it to Sam and she owes it to herself not to fuck this up, but the look that Rowan Whitethorn is sending her across the table makes her think she could risk it all.

It takes them three hours to run through it in full, and she’s happy to see she’s not the only one with a tear in her eye at the end. Rowan doesn’t cry, but he hasn’t looked at her since before they started and each time she read a line she avoided looking at him. She knows there were a couple of times where he nodded along with her expression of the lines. She’s ignoring it.

This is what she lives to do, they’re not even filming yet and she feels like she’s right where she needs to be. It’s cliche but she breathes easier when she acts, the air feels lighter when she takes on a new personality and feels all the things she’s told to feel.

It takes away the restlessness she feels when it’s all just down to her, being told how to feel is far easier.

Her therapist tells her she has both anxiety and PTSD, but she feels like giving it a name doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. She knows a diagnosis can be a relief for some, but to Aelin, what she feels is far too messy to be summed up in four letters. Her life has simply become the before, and the after, even though what each of those contains is a complete fucking shit show.

There are two Aelins; pre that night and post that night.

The Aelin from before that night doesn’t exist anywhere but in her own memory.

Once the run through is completed and basic notices are given by the producers, things like call sheet distributions and health and safety, the occupants of the room begin to mingle. She sees him make a beeline for her, and she swallows. She’s not ready for this.

“You look surprised to see me.” His voice is as hot as it was the last time she saw him, the slight rasp in his throat and his accent. Gods, the accent.

“You don’t look too surprised to see me.” She tilts her head at him because she feels way thrown off, like he has all the power here. Which he does. But like, she can play it cool. Fake it ‘til you make it, right? “Maybe had a little google search?”

He shakes his head at her, biting his lip kind of like he wants to laugh, and she bristles. She needs to level the playing field.

“Says you.” He’s definitely laughing now. “I saw you liked my photo last night.”

“What about it?” She shrugs, hoping her acting skills are up to it. He only tilts his head to the side as he takes her in.

“Do you think I didn’t know who you were in the corridor? I’m the director.” And fuck him for saying it like that, full of an easy confidence that in any other situation would have had heat pooling in the floor of her stomach. “Brullo discussed the casting with me.”

Right. Of course.

She’s not sure what to say next. Honestly? She kind of wants to flirt with him, but fuck.

Instead she hums a laugh, not really caring whether he thinks it’s sincere or not, and looks absentmindedly around the room instead of back up at him. He reaches a hand out to brush his fingers down her arm, looping them round the bones of her wrist and squeezing slightly like he did the last time before letting go. Her eyes snap back to his.

“Just between you and me?” he asks and the smile he wears is far too hot for her to deal with right now. “I think we made a good choice.”

“Thanks,” she says, but it’s a little too breathy. A little too dazed for having spent such a short amount of time in his presence. She’s aware that she needs to be careful, they are very much not alone in this room right now, and she doesn’t need to start any rumours that would destroy her chances of escaping this without a scandal.

She’s here to do a job, and she’s going to do it well. She doesn’t need any distractions.

He leaves her soon after that, and his parting remark of “have a good first day, Aelin” sticks with her, and she tries not to replay the way his voice had wrapped around her name.

Manon Blackbeak is watching them from across the room, and she arches one perfectly shaped eyebrow at Aelin. She ignores her; let her think what she wants, she’s surely professional enough not to gossip to any press, and stomps over to where Fenrys is chatting with one of the producers. It seems like a good enough place to start.

#rowaelin #rowaelin au #rowaelin fic #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #nobody does it like you do #ndilyd #im so nervous to post this lol #hope you all enjoy #cw: past drug abuse #cw: minor character death #cw: violence

[simpcircus]

Accidental

Warning(s): cursing, fluff

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: Sorry for taking way too long for this request! I hope I don’t disappoint you too much, anon TT

“T’as d’beaux yeux, tu sais?” The flirtatious voice of a man you knew so well entered your ears from afar and you were trying your hardest to ignore the tinge of jealousy that was currently present in your chest.

Not too far away from you, there stood Polnareff in all his glory - shooting his shot with a bunch of young looking women using his flirty lines. Him being a smooth talker is old news and everyone in the team already knew how flirty Polnareff could be. His words are so sweet as if they’re coated with honey everytime he speaks, and his dazzling smile has never failed to charm you.

While you had to admit that you did fall in love with him due to his flawless outer appearance at first, Jean Pierre Polnareff is definitely more than his loud and silly demeanour. Time and time again, your assumptions about his personality were proven wrong as he kept showing new sides of himself to you. He’s an honorable man and despite his mild narcissism, you could tell that he means well. You also learn later on that Polnareff is a compassionate person and it only adds to his many charms.

It’s practically impossible for you to not fall in love with the frenchman honestly.

You had to hold back a sigh when you heard him shoot another flirty line to the girls. You’re well aware that jealousy is a disease, especially when he’s not even your boyfriend but you couldn’t help yourself. God you wished it was you instead that he’s flirting with because your feelings for Polnareff have started to become much more serious - to the point where he’s the only person you could think about nowadays.

It scares you on how much the Frenchman could affect your mind despite him not even trying.

With the scorching sun hanging in the sky above you, the level of your annoyance only accelerated the more you heard him flirting with those women. It was hard to ignore the bitterness in your chest and at this point, anyone can spot the frown on your face as you stared at the ground in silence.

“Are you okay (y/n)?” A gruff voice grabbed your attention, successfully pulling you away from your envy filled thoughts. Your eyes were quick to look up from the ground, only to see Mr. Joestar’s concerned face. “Ah, Joestar-san. I’m fine, don't worry about it.” Your lips quickly stretched into a smile to reassure him that there was nothing to be worried about and the man nodded. However, despite the nod he gave you, it was obvious that he’s not buying it - though the man didn’t want to be seen as intrusive, which was why he decided that it’s best for him to excuse himself.

Keeping your little crush for Polnareff to yourself wasn’t as easy as you’d expected it to be. While it was unnoticeable for the other crusaders at first,the extra observant ones like Kakyoin and Avdol were able to catch up rather quickly. It’s a relief that Avdol isn’t the type to focus on unimportant stuff like this, but Kakyoin seemed like he enjoyed teasing you about your crush for Polnareff. The redhead would give you knowing looks and you couldn’t do anything to stop him. 

“I take it that you’re bothered by something, but I wonder what could it be” Kakyoin instantly appeared by your side as soon as Mr. Joestar was out of your sight, the tone of his voice was showcasing his curiosity and concern. You weren’t sure if it’s the right choice to tell the crusader about your jealousy, especially knowing that Kakyoin will tease the hell out of you later on. 

Polnareff's flirting, your deafening silence and foul mood seem to give him an idea of what’s actually going on and you could almost see a lightbulb appearing on his head when he managed to piece everything together. Kakyoin’s violet eyes went back and forth between your sulking figure and Polnareff before he continued speaking. “I don't wish to assume, but is it about him?”

‘Just how observant this guy is?’ A small thought echoed in your head as you could feel a drop of cold sweat went down your back. He figured it all out by himself and you didn’t even say anything that could hint about your feelings.

“Fine. It is about him.” The frown on your face deepened as you admitted to your feelings, and Kakyoin instantly gave you the smirk that you knew so well. It's almost like he's proud of himself for being able to guess your thoughts correctly. “Maybe you should just tell him about your crush, (y/n). How long are you planning to keep it to yourself?” 

Like hell you would.

“Non non non non non” You furiously shook your head at his suggestion, your arms were now crossed against your chest. “I would rather die than confess to him. Of course I didn’t want to die literally but you get what I mean.” Your face turned red at the thought of coming clean about your crush to the frenchman while Kakyoin let out a snicker out of amusement at your reaction.

"Even the way he speaks has rubbed off on you. Just how infatuated are you with him (y/n)?" You only glared at Kakyoin after his words but the redhead paid no attention to your silent threat.

Your friend parted his lips to continue taunting you but his words were cut off by some distant angry voices coming from Polnareff’s direction, and both of you were quick to turn to look at them. The women he was flirting with earlier looked unhappy while their mouths spouted appalling insults to the silver haired man.

“This guy really thinks he had a chance with us by relying on his shitty flirting skills. Pathetic!” 

“You think your hair is cool but it’s actually not.” 

“Your chance of getting into a relationship is probably as big as your non-existent eyebrows!”

The change in Polnareff’s facial expression wasn’t hard to spot. You were gritting your teeth while your eyes shot daggers at those women. 

“(y/n), calm down.” Kakyoin tried his best to keep your anger under control even though he’s well aware that his effort was useless. Your mood was already foul to begin with, so he wouldn’t be surprised if you do anything that could cause harm to the women. Their obnoxious laugh only fueled your anger and as soon as another insult left their lips, you started stomping your feet towards their direction. 

“Maybe you should mirror yourself first before approaching girls like us next time-” “The one who needs a mirror is you.” 

Your voice was stern as you spoke and Polnareff’s eyes widened after realizing that you came into his defense. All his life, the man has never thought there will be a day when the person he’s interested in would defend him against a bunch of rude women. It made his heart flutter and Polnareff was trying his best to keep his composure around you. Though, he had to admit that his current situation was kind of embarrassing.

“How dare you!” One of the women glared at you but you weren't intimidated at all. Your journey with the other crusaders to Egypt has led you to meet countless enemies who are stand users. With the way they're dressed - lacy overpriced dresses that hung on their bodies like table cloth, unflattering homemade curls with badly drawn eyebrows and unblended eyeshadow - you wondered what exactly Polnareff saw in them to make him want to flirt with them. A bunch of rude, unfashionable and obnoxious women wouldn't scare you.

"Hah! Looks like the guy couldn’t even stand up for himself. How sad!" 

It was the last straw for you, and your patience has finally run out, completely. As if a switch inside of your head got flipped by an unknown force, your cold eyes burnt with nothing but fury and you could tell that those women were greatly intimidated with the look in your face. They took a few steps backwards everytime you moved closer to them - while Polnareff watched in awe at how much power you have in scaring the group away. 

He instantly took note to stay on your good side.

"What rights do you have to freely insult him? Are your insecurities that bad to the point where you would settle for cheap insults instead of just politely declining his advances?" You were trying so hard to not yell out of anger. The amount of unadulterated rage you have for these women were forcing you to lash out, give them some good beating with your stand and create a scene, but the more rational side of your brain stopped those barbaric thoughts - constantly reminding you to keep your cool especially when Polnareff's around to witness your actions.

Their deafening silence gave you the green light to continue talking and defend the frenchman who has stolen your heart. "Haven't you heard? If you have nothing nice to say then it's better if you just stay silent. This so-called 'pathetic' man might look 'uncool' or 'sad' but that still doesn't give you the right to insult him." 

Polnareff wasn't sure if he should be offended by your words, or feel grateful that you're trying to stand up for him. Either way, his pride has taken a little hit.

"So you're defending him, yet your words implied that he is indeed, uncool and sad. Wasn't that a contradiction?-" "I'm not done yet!" 

Your fists clenched by your sides while your nails digged into the flesh of your palms. At this point, all your thoughts about Polnareff have spiralled out of control and words of appreciation on the tip of your tongue are threatening to spill out from your mouth. You couldn't bear the thought of letting other people see him as a terrible person when he's not. You couldn't bear the thought of letting other people look down on him just because of his flirting tendency.

"I obviously can't change your opinion towards him, but I'll let you know that you're wrong."

All your life, you have always held onto the whole 'opinions couldn't be wrong because everyone has different perspectives' concept. However, this time's an exception.

“This guy right here” You paused your sentence to point your finger at Polnareff, your eyebrows furrowed in determination to prove those women wrong. “He’s AMAZING” 

"He's more than how he appears. You probably think of him as a degenerate, but let me tell you again, you're wrong. He's great and he cares a lot for his friends." Your mind reverted back to the time when Polnareff risked his own safety just to save you. The enemy stand was too strong for you to defeat on your own, but you were still reckless at that time - which was why you were so quick to throw yourself into the battle despite all the warnings from the other crusaders. If it wasn't for him, you probably would have died.

"Polnareff doesn't deserve any of your insults! He almost got himself killed to save me, and I'll be damned if I say I didn't feel bad about it. All this time, I thought of him shallowly - just a prideful man who loves to boast about his abilities to literal strangers, but I was just as wrong as you are."

Polnareff stayed in silence as he listened to your words, his mouth slightly agape with shock. Butterflies fill in his stomach with every word of appreciation that leaves your mouth. Is this a dream? Or reality? He just simply couldn't believe it - his crush is speaking highly of him. 

"The more you know him, the more charming he gets and I'm happy to know him as the person he really is. There isn't a day when I would complain about our fated encounter. It almost felt like a blessing, even, to know Polnareff. Everything about him is perfect despite his flaws. If you couldn't accept someone's flaws and opt to insult them instead, then I would kindly ask you to stop and leave. Your negativity and audacity aren't needed here." 

It does feel nice to be able to speak out your thoughts.You had to mentally congratulate yourself for not completely losing your cool and still remain respectful while you were trying to defend Polnareff. However, those angry women seemed to target their fatuous insults towards you, but it was a relief that their attention wasn't fully directed towards the frenchman behind you.

"Look at them desperately trying to defend that walking trash." 

"They probably like that poor excuse of a man so much."

"Where has their taste in men gone to?”

With the level of your anger increasing again, your brain could no longer think rationally as you began verbally lashing out on them, the tone of your voice raising higher and higher the more you spoke. 

"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you so idiotic that I have to repeat myself? I said, you have no right to insult people. Yet here you are, still running your foul mouths like it's the only thing you could do in your sad life!"

Their faces turned pale at your outburst and Polnareff was getting more and more worried for you.

"H-hey (y/n).. Let's just leave-" 

"No, Pol. I'm not going to let them get away - not after they've horribly insulted you."

You took one final step closer towards the group and they weren't moving an inch, as if you were about to end their lives in the most brutal way if they do.

"Jean Pierre Polnareff is a beautiful man inside out and it saddens me that your eyes have failed to capture his magnificence. He is the literal manifestation of art and inner beauty itself. Flaws or not, he's perfect in every way and I love him for who he is!"

And just like that, your biggest secret was no longer a secret. Polnareff was in utter shock, his eyes widened as he looked at you in disbelief. His face was covered in red; a rare shy response to your accidental confession - but you had it worse than him. The embarrassment you had for your own sudden, unplanned confession was unbearable and you wished you could just throw yourself deep into the depths of the atlantic ocean, never to be found again.

"L-let's just leave these two idiots, girls! We're clearly wasting our precious time here."

The women quickly turned to the opposite direction and left while grumbling about how scary you were, but you didn't pay much attention to them. Not when Polnareff has found out about your feelings for him. 

Other than embarrassment, there was fear present in your chest as you didn't dare to look directly at him. Your heart was pounding loudly as you stood there in silence, awaiting for Polnareff's response. After a long moment of speechlessness, the silver haired man finally cleared his throat to ease the tense in the air.

"Thank you for having my back, amour. Those girls are being mean to me for no reason!" Polnareff's tone was lighthearted as he spoke and you quickly shook your head. "I-it's fine. I'm just trying to help, that's all." You still weren't able to look at him in the eye and Polnareff took an initiative to confirm his suspicions about your feelings for him.

"Say.. (y/n), do you really mean what you said earlier?" 

A nervous laugh immediately left your lips as you rubbed your nape, your face still red from embarrassment. "Oh about the whole 'you're a great person and no one should insult you' thing? Of course! Insulting people is a bad thing to do anyways-" 

"(y/n), mon amour."

You froze as your brain finally comprehended the fact that he called you 'amour' and your face only got redder than before. Did he really feel the same? Does Polnareff like like you?

The dumbfounded look on your face only caused him to laugh, and you'd dare say it was music to your ears. However, a small sigh left his lips shortly after he was done laughing. "Though, this is a little unfortunate, cherie. I've made an extravagant plan on how I wanted to confess to you but looks like you've beaten me to it!"

"Wait- you like me too, Polnareff?"

Polnareff let out a playful chuckle before decreasing the distance between the two of you, and leaned in towards your direction. Despite his playfulness during the current moment, there was warmth and adoration in his gorgeous blue eyes as he looked at you. "What if I say yes? Will I get a kiss, ange?" 

You had no idea where your sudden surge of confidence came from, but it was surely useful for your current situation. Flashing him a cheeky smile to match his playful demeanour, you gave him a quick 'sure' before leaning into him and planted a quick yet sweet kiss on the corner of his lips, purposely missing his actual lips. 

Polnareff was the one left in shock and just when he was about to whine about your little kiss, you were already walking away with a giggle. "Come on, let's get going Polnareff! Jotaro's gonna get mad at us if we're late"

#jjba x reader #polnareff x reader #JJBA #jean pierre polnareff #polnareff imagine

[artificialqueens]

Gimme Love, 9/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Sorry for taking so long to upload! I've had a hard week but everything is fine. Here we are - the end! Wanna know something interesting? There was actually going to be more to this story. Like, we were gonna get more flashbacks from when Brie and Juju went to college. There they would meet Tatianna, who was a badass feminist. And she'd be the one to help Brianna with her glow up. But the story was already going on too long and I couldn't fit any of it in.

Also I was going to go down a completely different route for the story. If any of you have actually seen the music video for Gimme Love by Joji, it ends on a more darker tone. And that's how I was gonna do it with this fic as it was based on it. But I just couldn't do it.

So I hoped you guys enjoyed it. I know I didn't get a lot of reads on it, but I'm glad knowing it was recieved by some. Anyway, on with chapter 9!

Major TW's for this chapter: Alcohol, mental health discussion.

2020

It was the day of the pre-party. It was going to be held at my place. I was prepared for possible drunkenness, embarrassing moments, but celebrations of everything we had accomplished. This was something I had worked my ass towards for so long, and it was finally happening.

I smiled, proud that I had finally punched myself in the face (figuratively, of course). I opened my eyes and saw how easy it was to rekindle with Mom. I was scared about seeing her in a few weeks, knowing we'd have to talk about my issues. But I knew now. If I didn't, I would just continue to get worse and worse.

On top of that, the Ed Sheeran problem was over and done with. His team understood fully, and he was set to perform at the launch.

And finally, I would meet Blair again. And it would be different this time. I wouldn't be the shy, insecure teenager she had always seen me as.

However, despite all these promising signs, my smile dropped. I imagined this morning playing out entirely differently.

Jujubee would be the first person to message me. Fuck, she'd probably even break in just to make sure I was up.

None of that happened. I know one should manage their expectations better. But it still hurt.

After two cups of coffee, some soggy cereal and a shower, I tried calling her. It rang a few times but went straight to voicemail mail.

I didn't bother leaving another message. I didn't wanna freak her out.

I probably wasn't helping my case. She probably thought I was relying on her, that she was life support for me.

But that wasn't the case. I mean, I couldn't just stand up and be like, "OK later, bitch," after practically growing up together. How could I just let go of someone I held so dear to my heart?

My eyes travelled across the kitchen, at first only her disappointment during our argument, how I had never seen her so angry.

On the counter, beside the fridge, there was my memory box.

What would Grandpa say in this situation?

Remember how I would write things he'd say to me? Just little bits and pieces of advice as something I could hold on to? I gave it to Mom to put it away for me. It had to be in the box.

I stood up, the stool making a scraping sound along the ground.

But a knock at the door tore my attention away.

Why did I hope it would be her?

Well, because it wasn't out of the ordinary for her to come and visit in the morning. Maybe this was it. I was forgiven.

I rushed to the door with the slight fear that if I wasn't fast enough, I'd miss her.

I unlocked the door and flung it open, a smile on my face, ready to greet her.

5 people were standing there; the decorators. I tried not to let my smile falter as I let them in.

-_-_-_-

8PM and my place had never looked livelier. For my first time hosting a party, it didn't feel like there was much hosting to do.

It felt like any other party I had been to, a room crowded with people dancing or talking to each other.

The music wasn't too loud, so the disorientation wasn't there.

I held back from drinking with the fear of doing something embarrassing, especially around Blair.

My bathroom was still clean when I went to apply a fresh coat of gloss. Good. Nothing to worry about.

I made my way back downstairs to the party, crossing the barrier at the bottom. The only place off-limits to the guests was upstairs. I'd hate to think there would be some people who'd want private time, especially in my bed. It happened at college once.

After a small party in our dorm, I found a couple midst coitus in my bed. Never again, I had said.

"Brianna!"

My head whipped in the direction of the voice, every bit of hope I had inside building up.

"You look stunning." A raven-haired woman approached.

"Thank you," I said in more of a questionable form. My brain couldn't figure out who this was.

"My name is Raja. I'm a writer for Cosmo," that explained it, "I was wondering if I could ask a few questions for a piece I'm doing. It's on the most influential women of the year."

I wanted to say no in the case I missed the arrival of Blair.

As if she read my thoughts, she spoke again. "It won't even be five minutes."

She was right about that. 15 minutes it lasted. We were locked in my bathroom, the four walls making the place feel cramped.

She asked me questions about how I reached this level, my morning routine, and what I put in my hair to make it so voluptuous. And all the while, I just kept fearing that Blair had arrived. That she had searched around for me and left when she couldn't find me anywhere. I would discreetly glance at my watch, hoping too much time didn't pass. But around 5 minutes in, I didn't care for subtlety. Not that Raja noticed. The questions seemed endless.

When she turned her recorder off, she further complimented my outfit. I thanked her, inching my way to the door. This lasted another 3 minutes.

She said I was a tiny woman with a lot of heart. I held back from saying I was a tiny woman with a lot of baggage.

When I finally escaped, I searched the place for Blair, and when I didn't find her, the panic started.

"Did anyone come in in the last 15 minutes??" I asked the workers hanging by the door.

"Yeah, there were 2 people. And I've never seen them around work. Could be anyone, Brie." They said with worry in their tone.

"OK, was one of them a girl? Blonde hair. Around my age?" I questioned further.

They glanced at each other for clarification, then looked back at me and shook their heads.

"Nope. Just two guys." One said.

"Probably on a pussy hunt at their local party." The other said.

"Or dick hunt."

"Or both."

"Nah, how would they even get in?"

Realising this was not Blair they were talking about, I thanked them and excused myself.

So she wasn't here yet. That's fine. Probably just running late.

I gave in and had one glass of champagne. Just to calm my nerves.

And the last person I wanted to see started to approach.

Ed fucking Sheeran. He raised a glass to celebrate and thanked me for the hotel room we paid for. I said it was no problem. And just as he was about to suggest some pictures for his Instagram, I quickly navigated away.

But I was caught by another person who just so happened to be Joey.

"I am so glad you changed your mind about the whole Ed thing. Like...girl…" he sipped his own drink.

"Yeah, it was easier than I thought." I shrugged. "Kinda feel awkward being in his presence now, though."

"I'll distract him if you want. British guys are kinda cute." Joey smirked.

I tsked, cocking my head at him. "Joey, you didn't like the guy a few weeks ago."

"I never said I didn't like him." He smirked.

"I mean, you can try." I rolled my eyes, a small smile appearing on my own face, "don't expect it to go anywhere."

Joey winked and brushed past me, making his way in Ed's direction.

Setting my glass down in my sink, I made my way to the bathroom just to check my lip gloss. A woman couldn't be too careful.

Once inside, I felt cramped again despite being alone. Maybe it was the underlying feeling of worry from being trapped in the room with Raja.

I told myself to breathe but then questioned why I was even doing such an exercise. Everything was fine. Life was good.

Looking in the mirror, my gloss was fine. But I applied a new coat anyway, just a reassurance.

And upon leaving, I set out in search of Blair again. She had to be here, just somewhere lost amongst this large amount of people.

Maybe she found someone else to talk to. Maybe not.

I moved to the balcony, the cool night air a relief.

But she wasn't there either.

I sighed, wanting a cigarette or something. Anything to calm the rising panic I was feeling inside.

I closed the door and moved further into the night, peering over the balcony and out into New York. The twinkling lights were pretty. I took a picture and sent it to my Mom. And in a few seconds, she started calling me.

"Hey, Mom."

"Hi, baby. I just thought I'd see how things are going." She asks, sounding pretty optimistic.

"I mean... it's OK, I guess. A bit crowded at my place right now." I replied.

"You nervous for tomorrow?" I hear the mischief in her voice.

She believed I'm not nervous, that I was a confident, strong woman. But she was wrong. "Of course I am. I mean, we've gone through all the precautions, so it should be fine. But still…"

"Well, baby, I promise you, everything will work out fine. It's you we're talking about."

I smiled, trying to teach my brain to agree with her.

"I would say I'd have a drink for you, but I'm trying to keep away from it tonight." Even though that was a lie.

"Yeah, you don't wanna go do something embarrassing like flashing anyone or whatever." She laughs.

"Wow. I didn't realise that was something I did." I quipped sarcastically.

"How about Jujubee?" I could still hear her smile.

But mine slowly dropped. Fuck, I had no idea. Immediately I stood back from the balcony. "Ugh...yeah, she's fine. She's good."

I moved to the door and looked past the glass at the large number of people. Fuck, I didn't even know if she was inside.

"Am I gonna get to see a picture of your outfits? You two always look like the stars of a party."

"Yeah," I faked a small laugh. "I'll go find her and get a picture. I'm gonna get back inside, OK?"

"No problem, baby. Love you."

"I love you too." I clicked end call and quickly made my way back inside.

How the fuck had I forgotten about her so quickly? Not like she was in my mind that morning or anything.

Now I had to find 2 people. I rushed inside, looking out for both of them. I checked the kitchen, dining area, lounge, the bathroom. Fuck, I even checked upstairs in the case Jujubee was there.

But there was no sign.

Where the fuck was she? Where was Blair?

It was getting harder to hold down the anxiety. Was Jujubee right about Blair? Was this another instance of my childhood crush getting my hopes up and flaking out?

The next drink tray I saw, my hand went straight for another glass. Two wouldn't hurt.

"Hey, you made it!" I heard from the front of the room, by the door.

I quickly downed the champagne and practically ran for it, too afraid to miss who had arrived.

Just as my hopes were quickly up, they fell just as fast. It was just Alex, Joey hugging him at the door.

"Fuck...Fuck...Fuck…" I whispered to myself.

A third glass of champagne found its way into my hand, and in a matter of seconds, it was down the hatch. I grimaced at the taste now, feeling like I could throw up at any second. Was that all just the anxiety, though?

Another bathroom break, I was fixing my gloss once again, scared to ruin my makeup. My hands were trembling. Fuck.

It wasn't stopping.

Back out in the main room, I tried to scan the crowd, standing on my tiptoes to try and see past everyone. It didn't help much.

Despite the music and rambling chatter happening around me, I heard the front door open, my eyes shot in its direction.

I struggled to move past a small group of coworkers, trying to get a good view of the door.

I didn't even get my hopes up this time. And, of course, it wasn't Blair.

Jujubee was right. Blair wasn't coming. Once again, she had led me on to believe I did mean something to her and that she'd give us a chance.

My hand gripped my scalp, turning away from the door. I growled, "Fuck," which didn't go unnoticed.

There was Nina with a hand on my arm. "Are you OK?"

"Yes." I lied so quickly. "I'm fine. Just... it's a little crowded in here," I fidgeted with my hands, "Is Jujubee here?"

"Yeah, you haven't seen her?" Nina raised a brow, rubbing her hand up and down my bicep.

"No." My eyes looked around briefly. "Where is she??"

"I dunno. She's you're best friend." Nina squinted her eyes. She didn't mean to sound accusatory. I guessed she was more concerned.

"She is." I reaffirmed, even though now I wasn't so sure.

"If it helps, the last place I saw her was the kitchen."

"When?"

"Half an hour ago."

I rolled my eyes and groaned. "She could be anywhere."

"Girl, it's fine. Not like we're in a labyrinth. You'll find her eventually." Nina smiled, rubbing my arm again.

I paid her no more heed and hurried towards the kitchen in the hope I'd find her there. But like the rest of my apartment, it was crowded. I stood on my toes again to try and catch a glimpse of black hair.

But there was no sign. Stressed, a shaking hand reached for another champagne. Usually, my tolerance for alcohol was high, but right now, I was feeling it. I was wavy.

In my now weary state of mind, I decided what was the fucking point? Blair had 100% flaked, as per usual, and Jujubee was obviously avoiding me at all costs.

Nina had followed me, taking my hand. "Follow me."

I didn't fight it. She moved to the staircase, pulled back the barrier and let me pass through.

She ushered me to walk up to the top before moving no further.

Turning towards the crowd beneath us, Nina addressed the people with a raised tone. "Can we have your attention, please?"

The people went quiet, beaming up at us.

Nina talked about how much of a good night it was, all while the alcohol was taking me over.

My eyes scanned the crowd, in the final chance of hope, wanting nothing more than to see Jujubee's glowing smile shining up at me.

But I couldn't. Not because I had double vision. But because she was nowhere.

I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing hard out through my nose.

Nina put her hand on my shoulder. And only then did I realise that I had blacked out, missing everything she said. I blinked a few times, trying to clear the film that had glazed my brown eyes.

"But we all wouldn't be here without our leading lady." She smiled warmly. "Everything she's achieved, it's all brought us to this moment. Let's raise a glass to Miss Brianna Caldwell."

Everyone started cheering, only a few raising a toast, the others clapping. My eyes widened, feeling all those eyes on me.

"Hope you have a speech prepared," Nina whispered in my ear.

And me, being the queen of saying just 3 lines and quickly evacuating the scene, decided no. Fuck it. I had something to say.

When the crowd began to settle down, I began to deliver the messiest speech ever.

"Well, funny you should mention achievements, Nina, because, yeah, I'm standing here before you all, having done the impossible. But what does that matter?" I laughed, shrugging. "Yeah, it does matter a whole fucking deal. I mean, look at you all. You wouldn't be here if it wasn't?" I laughed awkwardly again, but as I continued, my smile began to disappear. "Well, sometimes you just want a certain someone to give a shit. And they make you believe that they do. Just for like 5 minutes. And it feels so so fucking incredible. It feels like...like you matter. You're not just plain old Brianna Caldwell. You mean the world to them…" My tone dropped, "And then...you realise you're the most gullible, unaware, stupid fucking idiot in the world. They don't really give a fuck about you. They don't see all the things that you've achieved in life and think…' Wow...What an incredible person.' They just... don't give a fuck about you."

Everybody looked confused, uneasy even, while others giggled. Glad to know I was serving as the entertainment for the night, and I was in the same room as Ed fucking Sheeran.

Then, as if some higher power looked at me with a shaking head, maybe my grandpa, there was a glimmer of light at the back of the room, a flash of movement. And my eyes were drawn to the source.

My heart stopped

There she was. Finally. Blair St. Clair smiling apologetically at the few people who were looking at her. They smiled back as they should. She was breathtaking.

And her eyes moved to where everyone else was looking.

Right at me.

Such a familiar feeling was falling over me.

Everyone else in the room. Gone. Like they just stepped into another world, leaving the two of us in this reality.

She panted, out a breath, like she had run to my place. Impossible, she looked like an absolute angel in her gold wrap dress.

Nina nudged me. I snapped out of my daze, reminded of the whole crowd of people looking up at me with confused stares.

Fuck...what do I say now? How do I backtrack?

"But...you know what?" I started to speak again. "You realise, you're just overthinking again. 'Cause, that's a very on-brand thing for you. Every little incident of the past has taught you to doubt that good things actually can happen to you." My smile was returning. "Because the people who give a shit are there. Because you've done the impossible. And they couldn't be happier to be part of your story." My eyes were moving through the crowd, "Do what makes the ones around you proud, and what makes you fucking proud. And don't let anyone or anything hold you the fuck back. Because you have a purpose."

Thank fuck for the fact everyone started cheering again. I thought I had fucking bombed that I would see a recording of the same speech the following day all over Twitter, along with comments about how dramatic it was.

But it was fine. I saved it. I smiled at everyone and hugged Nina, suddenly overcome with happiness.

"Fuck you for not telling me you were gonna drag me up here," I whispered in her ear.

"Well, if I had asked you in the first place, you would have said no, honey." Nina grinned.

We pulled apart, and my eyes went back to the front door. I smiled, expecting to see Blair. But she had vanished. Fuck, I hadn't imagined her, right?

I tried to carefully make my way down the stairs without tripping, ready to look for her once again.

And upon reaching the bottom, Joey grabbed my hand and pulled me close, "someone on the balcony requires your attention."

He winked, and the butterflies in my belly went mad.

She was playing games with me. Not a very Blair St Clair thing to do, but the thought excited me.

I hurried to the balcony, ready to feel that cool air on my skin, her warm body pressed against mine.

And just as I was passing through the doors, feeling the cooling breeze, I stopped dead in my tracks.

I froze.

This wasn't what I expected; seeing her standing there, only noticing how radiant she looked in her orange suit dress.

Fuck. It felt so long since I had last seen her.

But it had been only a few days.

"Hi, Juju," I spoke quietly.

"Hey," she inhaled her cigarette, looking out to the city. If she hadn't replied to me, I would have guessed she failed to realise I was even there.

I swallowed, my eyes glancing down to the ground for a moment. The alcohol in my system was telling me to just turn and leave her alone. She didn't wanna see me.

But my brain said, "you idiot, she obviously invited you out here."

So I moved forward, rubbing the backs of my arms nervously.

I stood beside her, not even daring to look her in the eye. I looked at her orange suit, how Mom would have adored it.

"You invited me out here." I leaned my elbows on the ledge, my gaze following hers over the twinkling lights of New York.

"Yeah, I did." She did offer me a cigarette, but still, she never looked at me.

I shook my head, declining her offer, "Why didn't you just come and ask me yourself?"

"I was dying for a cigarette." She breathed out a stream of smoke. "Also, I've already spent most of the night trying to find you."

I couldn't help but breathe out a laugh through my nose. I glanced at her and was glad to see the smirk appear on those lips.

"I've been trying to fucking find you." I continued to laugh, a crack to my tone, however.

She finally looked at me, turning her body to face me. Her brows were knit together, yet the smirk remained. "No. I," she stressed, "have been trying to find you."

"So...what have I been doing for the past...I dunno, few hours?" I raised a brow. "Did I take 10 hits of acid earlier, or did I not search this place from top to bottom?"

She gave me a hopeless smile like she knew there was no point in arguing. She sucked on the cigarette, offering it to me.

I gave in, taking it from her hand, my fingers touching hers with a light touch. Her eyes moved to our hands as if she was thinking about it too. The feeling like this was a moment we needed to remember.

I took a drag on the cigarette, passing it back. She looked away, briefly turning her gaze to the ground.

But I kept my eyes on her like I'd never get another chance. "I really miss you, Juju," I spoke quietly, almost through a whisper.

She looked at me again. Her mouth moved around slightly yet remained closed like she wanted to say something. But she couldn't figure out what it was she was going to say.

I reached out, took her hand in mine. She seemed taken aback at first. But as my thumb stroked against the soft skin of her hand, a small smile began to resurface.

"There are…" she paused, "things that I would love to say to you. But I just... I'm afraid."

"Is it bad? Come on, Juju. You can tell me. You can tell me anything. I mean, we've grown up together. We've always told each other everything."

She looked apprehensive before taking another drag from her cigarette. And stubbing it out in the ashtray, she turned towards me once again.

She looked ready to say it. Whatever it was. I didn't even know the words yet. But I could tell this would mean a lot to her.

The muffled sound of the many people behind the closed glass doors became clearer, amplified even. Jujubee looked in its direction. My eyes followed.

"Blair," I uttered.

She looked slightly taken aback like she didn't know how to react to seeing us.

Jujubee dropped her hand to her side, a small puff of air leaving her nostrils.

"Jujubee." A smile appeared on Blair's face as she finally approached us both. "I didn't expect to see you here!"

"Likewise." Jujubee nodded slowly. She glanced at me, and I reciprocated.

Before I could figure out her exact emotion. But now, she was hard to read once again. My brows knit together, telepathically questioning what she was feeling.

Jujubee looked back at Blair. "Talk about awful timing though, I was just leaving." Jujubee smiled back at her.

Blair's smile was disappearing. "Oh." She paused, unable to say anything else.

"You don't have to go, Jujubee." I took her hand once again, stroking my thumb over her skin another time, just to remind her of the tender moment we were just having.

She smiled again, but only now, I knew the true words behind it. She pulled her hand away. "Early rise, actually. Gotta get up and ready for the big day tomorrow, right?" She raised her brows at me. Then she looked at Blair, "It was nice seeing you," and then back to me once more, "I hope you have a good night, Brie."

She averted her eyes, not even sparing me another glance. The clacking of her heels was deafening, each step away causing something inside to sting.

"It was nice seeing you again," Blair said before Jujubee could make it through the doors.

I heard a mumbled "yeah, yeah," before Jujubee went back inside.

My gaze still followed her, watching as she navigated the crowd.

"Did she...seem off to you?" Blair asked quietly.

"Yeah," I said without thinking. "I just...I don't know what's wrong with her...I can't...work it out…" my eyes never left the door, hoping Jujubee would reappear.

And feeling Blair's soft hand in mine, I was brought back to reality. I looked at her, seeing the concern in her eyes. Fuck, what a great way to reunite.

"Is something going on?" She asked softly.

I shook my head frantically, "N-No. We're fine...I guess I'm just overreacting. Yeah, she's just been...really busy with everything."

"That's probably true." She shrugged, glancing at the door, "Well, actually, I haven't seen what goes behind the public eye, but I bet it's taxing." Blair was facing me again, her eyes widening briefly.

I let out a small laugh, "Oh, you have no idea." And only then did I get a real chance to take her in. The girl had not changed. Well, call me corny, but she only got more radiant looking.

"I didn't think you'd come," I spoke with a hushed tone.

"Sorry, I was late. I couldn't get a cab for ages." She gave a half-smile. "I guess New York really is that kind of place."

"Fuck, I didn't think about traffic. I could have got you a driver or something. "I started rambling.

"No, it's OK. I'm here now anyway." Her eyes looked me up and down, "you look great, by the way. Pink always was your colour."

Funny how the last time she gave me a compliment, I shut her down. But now, I couldn't bring myself to do so. "Thank you."

I wasn't expecting her to hug me, but she did. It was very welcoming. If I could rate it out of 10, I'd give it a 9. Why the missing point? Cause she pulled away too soon. I needed that time, just to soak up the moment.

My arm was still around her waist when she put a hand to my face.

"It's so good to see you." She beamed, the city lights reflected in her eyes.

"You wanna go upstairs? We'll hear better up there. And it's kinda chilly out here." I hoped she didn't find that creepy or like I was suggesting something because that was not my intention, believe it or not.

I almost jumped, the sound of her sweet voice dragging me out of the storm that was my inner ramblings. "What about your party?" She looked over her shoulder at all the guests behind the closed doors."

"They'll be fine," I said too quickly.

"Oh. Well, if you say so."

She didn't find that weird. Good. I finally pulled my arm from her body but took her hand instead, leading her into the apartment.

I ignored the side glances we received, too focused on her presence behind me. Still so in disbelief that for once, she hadn't flaked out. She really did give a fuck. Walking up the stairs, I only noticed how my vision had cleared. I no longer felt drunk. Had it just been a quick rush of nausea that left me feeling so weary before? Or had the shock of seeing Blair literally walk into my life again shocked me so much to the point it sobered me up?

"Here we go," I said quietly, welcoming her into the upper level.

"Wow, you got another living room up here." Blair's wandering eyes landed on the couch.

"Yeah. The one downstairs is for fucking business and parties. And this one," I gestured to where she was looking, "is for hanging out mostly, and…" Why did I have to be so nervous?

"Hookups?" She looked at me with raised brows and a smirk.

I laughed nervously, moving to the fake fireplace and turning it on. Why didn't I just say no? She probably thought I was a slut or something. "Sit down if you want. Do you want a drink? I'd love a fucking drink right now."

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks, though." She replied, sitting down on the sofa and relishing the feeling of it.

"I need some fucking water." I rushed to the mini-fridge and pulled out a bottle.

Turning back to face Blair, she was looking at me in confusion. "You OK?"

"What?" That was all I thought to reply with.

"You seem kind of…" she paused, trying to figure out her words, "on edge."

"I do?" My hands played with the water bottle.

"Yeah, you've included the word 'fucking' in every sentence since we got up here." She allowed herself to smirk.

Subliminal, Blair. I like it.

Fuck, I dragged my mind out of the gutter and practically rushed to the couch. "Oh, it's just...tomorrow. The nerves, you know." I sat on the other end of the sofa, took a gulp of water and made myself comfortable.

Blair turned to face her body towards me. "Am I wrong, or was Ed Sheeran downstairs??"

"Yeah, he was. It's kind of a long story, actually." I laughed. "You a fan?"

"No, not really," Blair replied.

"Good, me neither. Not really into the whole wedding dance song vibe."

"Me too." She groaned, "If I hear Thinking out loud at another wedding, girl, I'm just...I dunno."

"I get it. 100%"

"Well, enough about him," Blair sat up straight, a bright smile on her face. She laughed for a moment before even speaking, "Fuck, I was just about to ask what you've been up to." She gestured a hand around the room, "I mean, duh."

"Yeah," I returned the laugh, "It's pretty much just that. This project has taken up most of my life over the years."

"God, I remember reading in the paper...fuck, I can't remember the exact title. It was this tiny article just squashed into a corner. 'Scientist seeks to prove the existence of other realities.' Yeah, it was something like that. And…" She shrugged, "I just knew it was you. And, I knew you'd go far."

I felt the blush creep onto my skin. Hearing this from Blair felt otherworldly.

"I mean, I knew before. When you told me at Prom, I knew you'd be able to do it." She added.

"How did you know?" I asked.

"Just hearing how you talked about it. Like, you really believed in yourself. It made me believe too." She swapped around the legs she crossed.

"It was hard. Trying to get people on board with everything. Not a lot of people believed it was even possible in the beginning." I unscrewed the cap from the bottle of water. "And now look at me; I got the government behind this whole thing." I shrugged and took a sip of the water. Before she could go on, I took the conversation on another route. "But what about you? Where are you in life?"

I knew where she was in life. Hadn't I Facebook stalked her not too long before?

"Well, it sounds far fetched, but I'm trying to get into the music scene." Blair sat back in her seat, eyes wandering off, looking at nothing in particular.

"You always did like performing," I noted. "Starting out in the school playgrounds. Soon you'll be playing an Arena with a sold-out show."

Did I sound cheesy? Was I too much of a kiss ass? Because to me, this was honesty. I always thought Blair had the potential to be a famous singer. She had the voice, the looks, style and personality. Who wouldn't want her as part of their label?

Fuck, it only hit me that I could have gotten her a spot to perform at the event.

Blair had stood, a small sigh emitting her lips. "An Arena? Imagine that." She smirked for a moment, stepping away from the couch. For a hot second, I thought I had stepped on territory I shouldn't have, and she was leaving. But she made her way to the window, staring out over New York. So I naturally went too. "Well, I've just been singing around bars for a while now, even had 2 gigs. Nothing too amazing." She explained. "I mean, I know you say Arena and all, but, actually, I wouldn't wanna be that big. I just...want people to hear my music."

Her smile faltered somewhat, and it spoke volumes. It wasn't happening fast enough for her, the growing number of ears that would someday listen to her words. She wanted it all now.

I sidestepped a bit closer. My fingers were so close to brushing against hers, then stopping myself in realising that was too much. "It does take time, these things. I mean, I didn't get here overnight. It will happen, Blair." She flashed me a gracious smile, and I was glad she didn't find any of that condescending. That was not my aim. "Anyway, I'd love to hear your music."

"You would?" Blair cocked her head to the side, turning more to face me, her hand on the window cill closer to mine.

"Of course," I reply. She should've known that anyway.

"Well, I'm not gonna break out into song for you right now. But I have a few videos on my Facebook. You should add me." She suggested.

I had never opened Facebook so fast. "There. I sent you a request." I scrolled through her timeline, my back now to the window, "Lemme see."

"Oh, God. Please don't. Not right now." Blair panicked.

I lifted my gaze, my eyes almost wide. Blair St Clair, the girl who wasn't hesitant to approach a mic, was embarrassed. I found this to be adorable and oddly made me feel more relaxed. "Don't be shy, Blair. I'm sure they're great."

"Brianna, don't." No joke, Blair attempted to snatch my phone away like a child.

I found it highly amusing. "Why not?" I smiled mischievously.

Blair continued her protests, trying to swipe at the phone more and more, all while laughing nervously.

Eventually, my teasing led to a chase. I still scrolled her Facebook as I ran around the room, Blair behind me.

"Which one should I look out for?" I stood at one end of the couch.

Blair stood at the other end, letting out a pant. "Brianna, you better not."

I stepped to the right, throwing her off, and she ran to her left, ready to run straight at me and take the phone out of my hand.

But I tricked her. When I took that step to the right, I pulled back and moved to the left instead. And without thinking, I threw myself down on my bed.

Before I could even get up, Blair was already there, too, crawling towards me. She reached for my phone, still pleading with me to stop.

And finally, giving the current circumstances, I gave in. "OK, OK. You win. I won't play your music in front of you." I giggled mischievously, shuffling so my back was against my headboard. "You're gonna have to remind me to check it out, though."

Blair remained at the bottom of my bed, kicking her heels off and folding them like a pretzel. It was as if we were teenagers again, catching up on all the hanging out we never got to do. She fluffed out her hair, "God, Brie, I came here to have a good time. Not to work out. Why are you still looking at your phone?"

Now that I was on her profile, scrolling back to the top, I saw a familiar picture. "Wow, this George guy's kind of cute."

Blair smiled warmly, her eyes looking upwards. And I had the slightest sinking feeling she was about to tell me this was her fucking lover or husband.

"Ah...George. What a guy." Blair blinked. "He does music too. If you like my stuff, then you'll like his too. He's got this song Gimme Love. It's my favourite."

"Is he your boyfriend?" There was no hesitation in asking.

Her brows briefly crossed. "What? No. He's one of my closest friends. Really helping me find places to perform. He's just...really cool."

I mouthed a silent 'Oh' before going on and cocking my head to the side, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Was it normal to ask shit like this? Maybe it was. But considering I had confessed to her I liked her very much in that accidental message, perhaps I shouldn't have said it at all. Didn't want her getting sus.

I got the feeling she knew I was trying to find a way in as she raised a brow at me, the corners of her mouth turning upwards. "Nah, Brie. I'm done with boys."

I lowered my phone. That could have meant anything;

She was strictly into girls;

She had just gotten out of a bad relationship with someone, and she was going through that typical 'men are trash' phase;

She used the term 'boys' when referring to immature fuck boys who still thrived in toilet paper bombing people's houses and still fought with feminists online. She was now looking for 'a real man' who would love and respect her.

She wasn't speaking, just lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Before the silence could go on and get awkward, I shifted in my own spot. "Do you wanna elaborate on that?"

"Oh. Yeah, if you want to hear it." She said like she didn't want to, and before I could stop her, she went on, "Well, the last was Conrad. He cheated on me. Before him, there was Ethan. I found out he'd talk shit about me to all his meathead buddies, said that my ass wasn't big enough. Then Bryce with his superior attitude. And…" she sighed, "Fucking Trevor."

Just hearing his name did something to me. I could feel how my shoulders had tensed, how the breath got stuck in my throat for a moment. But my ability to talk was unaffected because I spoke up, "I remember you saying he was controlling." I moved away from my headboard, shuffling closer to her, so close she could have put her head in my lap if she wanted.

Blair nodded, "he was," she breathed out a sigh, "I can't believe I'm even admitting this, but after high school, I started seeing him again. He promised me he would change, that things would be different. And I always feel like such an idiot for believing him."

That was upsetting. My hand squeezed in a fist. "So, what was the final straw? The thing that made you end things for the last time?"

Blair took in a deep breath, rolling over onto her front and propping her head upon her hands. She looked up at me with sad eyes. "He was just the same, Brie. Always controlling me, telling me how to act, who I could and couldn't hang out with. He was like that from the beginning to the end. I mean, you remember how he reacted about that one sex-ed class? And that time, he yelled at me in front of everyone for not sitting with him at lunch one day?"

I had no idea about the last thing. And I wasn't even surprised. Trevor was that type of guy, and you just knew it within the first few minutes of meeting him.

I was curious to know, but I kind of already had a feeling. Yet, I needed clarification. "Is that why you never came back to the library? Because he knew people would talk if you were seen with the school loser?" She leaned up now, but I continued. "Is it why you never came to speak to me about the prom?"

Blair was just watching me in silence. But I could see it, the realisation in her face.

"Fuck." She sat up and moved closer to me. "Oh my gosh, Brianna. I am so sorry. I had...no idea it would hurt you." We were both face to face, and she put her hands on mine, her eyes apologetic. She cussed, briefly looking away. "Fuck, I knew you hated me. The years of silence, of course, you did."

"Wait, no. Stop. I'm sorry. I don't wanna make you feel like a bad person. That's not what I wanted to do." I said profusely, my hands tightening just slightly.

"No, no. I'm sorry. You have every right to be upset." She spoke quietly, her blue eyes pleading with me. "Just be honest with me. I owe you that. You deserve to be heard."

"Really, Blair, it's fine. It's - -"

"Brianna. You're upset. You're not really good at hiding it, no offence." She smirked at the last comment. But the smile disappeared, and she waited for my response.

I stared back at her, my gaze shifting between both those eyes. My mind debated what to do, refuse to say a thing and let it all continue to build up. Or vent years of pent up emotions that needed to be said.

I looked away, deciding the latter decision was probably the best. I really didn't want to, what with the risk of upsetting her.

But maybe she wouldn't.

But maybe she would.

But maybe…

Her hand left mine and swept a strand of hair away from my face. I didn't even know it was there. "You're really hurt, Brie," she spoke softly.

I looked back to her finally, her hand lowering back down. And I finally found my voice. "OK." I shifted in my spot, highly uncomfortable. Come on, Brie. Just tell her.

"Do you remember the prom? When you asked me how we never talked more?" Just say it. "Because I always felt inadequate. Like I wasn't enough for you. And, not just you, even my…" I paused, feeling the lump form in my throat, "...my parents. Ummm…" saying that out loud to her, it hit differently. My voice was cracking. "I always associated you with my parents. I don't know where the connection came from, and I know now that that's fucked up, and I know I probably should go to a therapist about that, but..." I quickly explained. "But yeah, I just...never felt enough. Like 'why would Blair the cheerleader want to associate with someone like me? How could Blair ever love someone like me??'"

Fuck, it just slipped out. I studied her face for a reaction, expecting her to back away.

But she didn't. She just nodded in understanding, squeezing my hand reassuringly.

"But, um...I know now. It wasn't that you didn't care. It was just...fucking Trevor." I practically growled that name.

Blair breathed out a laugh, rolling her eyes. "Fucking Trevor."

"Yeah, fuck that asshole," I allowed myself to smile before continuing on. "I just... didn't understand how hard that actually was for you."

"It was very hard. God, it bothered me so much because I really did have a soft spot for you, Brianna. I really did, ever since we were kids." Blair smiled warmly. "And that's why I'm so glad you replied to my message. After all these years."

I gulped, thinking about that damn message, and now seeing her loving smile. "Y-You didn't think it was weird?"

Blair sighed, yet her smile remained. "Brianna. Do you think I'd be sitting here if it was?" She moved her hand to my elbow, up my shoulder, caressing my cheek gently.

I almost said something. I couldn't even remember what it was. Not that it mattered because I didn't get the chance. The moment I had been waiting for, it was happening. Her face was moving closer to mine, eyes slowly closing. And as soon as I felt her lips brush against mine, the feeling of her touch caused the butterflies in my stomach to flutter. I closed my own eyes and accepted what was happening.

The kiss my teenage self craved, dreamed about even.

It was reality.

We hadn't just slipped into some other world.

This was real life. The feeling of her hand on my cheek, that was real. The butterflies in my stomach fighting against the walls, also real.

And how I lifted my hand and held her face, also real.

She pulled away first, but her lips were still close, "was that OK?"

"Yeah," I moved my face back towards hers, initiating another kiss. I was savouring every bit of this moment. The sweet taste of her was too much to not let go of.

But she pulled back again, letting herself fall back against the mattress. I stared at her for a few seconds. Fuck, this was happening. Something inside me was hesitant to do this. The nerves, the fear of not being enough for her.

Blair reached out for my hand, and I knew I was just overthinking again. I took her hand and allowed her to pull me down to her.

Lowering my face to hers, I kissed her again, more hungrily this time. For a second, I didn't know where to go from there, still so in disbelief that my luck had turned around.

When I pulled away, my hand travelling down the side of her face. "Oh my God...is this real?"

"Of course it is." Blair giggled, her hands roaming up and down my back.

"OK. Good!" I panted, moving my kisses to her cheek, then her neck, and I could feel my heart beating a bit faster.

But because I am Brianna Caldwell, the most awkward person to have ever lived, I had to go on with the questions. "Hey, Blair, can I ask you something?" I kept my lips where they were.

"Mhmm?" She purred when I kissed that point where her neck met her shoulder. The pathetic noise she made almost made me melt, I swear to God.

"Were you…" come on, Brie, just say it, "were you gonna kiss me at the prom?"

She chuckled, "Yeah. But Trevor had to be an insecure loser."

I appreciated the cute giggling sound she made.

I lifted my head away from her skin and leaned up. I looked at her with a raised brow.

Blair was smiling still, but I knew she was getting impatient.

"So...you like-liked me back then too? Even when I was ugly?" I asked.

"Brianna, you were never ugly." Blair's brows connected, a hand stroking up and down my side. She really was getting needy. "And yes. I always like-liked you. God, that's so cute. You still say like-like." She took my hands and guided them to the knot tight at the side of her wrap dress.

"Shut up. Fuck, you're so beautiful." My hands began to untie the knot while I lowered my face and kissed along her clavicle and the only bit of exposed chest I had access to.

"Fuck. If only you knew how long I wanted this." Blair mewled. "I didn't think this was ever gonna happen. Even when I saw you and Juju out on the balcony, I was like...fuck. I'm too late."

Confusion immediately took me over. I pulled back again, looking down at her. A brief flash of frustration appeared on her face, but I ignored it. "Wait. What?"

"Yeah, I just…" Blair looked away for a moment as if debating on continuing or not, "always saw how you were around her. Always so happy. Like you were on top of the world. And I just didn't want to get in the way of that."

Her hand was trailing along my thigh, but I ignored it.

"Wait...Jujubee?" I knew that's who she was talking about, but even the sound of her name, it made something inside hurt. Not a hurt that she caused. Something...so different yet familiar at the same time.

"Yes. I never saw you that happy around anyone else…" Blair leaned back, balancing against my propped knees. "I mean, the prom? The way you looked at me, it was nothing compared to when you're with her. With Jujubee, it was...always so different."

Realisation dawned on me. I knew what she was getting at.

I opened my mouth to speak, ready to say I didn't like Jujubee in that way. But the words wouldn't surface. No matter how much I willed myself, I just couldn't. Even the thought of saying it made that feeling of hurt feel 10 times worse.

"You OK?" Her fingers danced around my thigh again, only with more wanting now.

"But…" I began, "I gave you my Valentine's card in first grade."

Now she was silent, her gaze shifting between both my eyes. She leaned up on both elbows, realising my questions weren't going to stop, and her pussy wasn't going to be eaten any time soon. She gave a nervous laugh, "um, no. You gave it to Jujubee."

I squinted my eyes. "No. I gave it to you, Blair."

"Girl, you gave it to me, and when I asked if it was mine, you shouted at me, saying it was for Juju and you just wanted me to check it out." She was laughing again. But seeing my still confused face, her smile began to drop. "You don't remember that?"

I was silent for a moment. Blair was in front of me, the love of my life, but all I could see was the image of Jujubee in my head. Her perfect little face, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she laughed, that bright smile, her silky black hair that always smelt so good.

I thought back, all the way back to that specific Valentine's Day. I remembered handing the card to Blair, her confused face, how the kids snickered as I stood there feeling sorry for myself. And Jujubee shouting at them all for making jokes.

But that was all.

"I... don't remember that," I spoke quietly, my eyes squinted.

"Not even the card she gave you?"

My eyes widened at that. "She did what?"

"Yeah, she gave you a card."

Now that she mentioned it, there was a flicker of an image in my head; something pastel pink. My tiny painted fingers holding a heart shape. Baby Brianna smiling, only to lift her head and see the other kids making fun.

"Oh, shit…" I whispered. I climbed off Blair and got up from the bed.

I was on the verge of pacing, my hand in my hair, "Oh my God."

"Don't be embarrassed, Brie." Blair was fully sat up in the bed now, her legs spread as if trying to beckon me back. "Not a lot of people can remember so far back."

I needed to prove if this was real or not. I'd call Jujubee. But then again, would she have even answered? If what Blair was saying was true, that explained why Jujubee was behaving the way she was. She was hurt. She was pissed because I didn't remember her card.

But how the fuck could I have forgotten something like that? All my life, that was all I ever wanted - to know I was loved by someone. Such a memory like that…

"Brie, are we...you know...gonna…" Blair spoke quietly.

My eyes widened. A memory like that. A memory that would be worth keeping.

I turned to face her. "Blair, wait here. I'll be right back."

"OK. Sure." Blair blinked a few times.

I wasted no time rushing downstairs. Taking a moment to observe the crowd, it seemed, quite a few guests had left already. At least it would make it easier to navigate.

I made my way to the kitchen. The memory box was still there. For a millisecond, I feared someone would have stolen it.

I took it to the counter, no one was around, so I felt safe enough to open it.

My nerves were wrecked as I lifted the latch to the box. I only had a small idea of the things that would be in here. Old photos, movie tickets, childhood drawings.

But I hadn't planned on opening it up so soon.

No. I needed to know the truth.

Opening it up, I saw a bunch of photos, tickets and pieces of folded up paper. I removed them, planning to possibly look at them at a later date.

The more I pulled out, the more confident I felt that Blair had got it all wrong. And she was the one who remembered things differently.

But there was a flash of pink at the bottom of the box. I gulped, pushing aside the scraps of paper burying it.

And there it was; A pastel pink heart-shaped card, 'Happy Valentines Day' writing in glitter gel pen on the front. "Shit…" I said quietly, pulling the card out.

Opening it up, I breathed out a puff of air.

'Dear Brianna, I know people in class are mean and say nasty things. But I think you are the prettiest girl in the world. Happy Valentine's day. Love from Juju xxx'

I could hear the younger version of myself reading it out loud, the insults from the other kids, Jujubee yelling at them because they were just jealous.

I put the card down as I realised Blair was right. And memories resurfaced, reading completely different.

That Valentines Day in which she refused to tell me who she had eyes for

That time she didn't invite me to stay for dinner.

How her smile would drop every time I mentioned Blair.

How I never danced with her at the prom

And finally, our recent argument.

It all made sense. Jujubee was in love with me. And instead of recognising it earlier on, I was too caught up with Blair to see it.

And what about me? How did I feel about her? Yeah, Jujubee was my one and only friend. She had gotten me through so much throughout the years. If it weren't for her, who knew where I would have been.

I couldn't pinpoint any time that I had thought of her as more than just a friend.

Well, maybe the times we'd lie in bed and just...stare into each other's eyes. Or the time she held me as I sobbed into her chest after the incident at the prom. Or maybe the times she'd smile, and it would brighten up my day. Or the exact day that I noticed how cute it was when her lashes fluttered.

Or…

My eyes met the heart-shaped card again, how the very sight of it made my heart skip a beat.

"Fuck." I ran my fingers through my hair as it was clear to me.

My eyes ventured away from the card, moving to the scraps of paper.

'Grandpa's tips for life'

My hand told me to examine the piece of paper further, so I did so.

At the top of the list, there it was. A sign.

'Go get her, kiddo. You've got nothing to lose.'

I needed to tell her.

I packed the box up and quickly left the kitchen, noting that a few more people had left.

"Blair!" I called, rushing up the stairs.

She was still there, laying in the bed, in just her white lacey lingerie.

I covered my eyes. "Oh my God. That was unexpected."

"Fuck. Sorry. I kind of had a feeling that would have been inappropriate." She asked.

"What? No. You're fine. I just... wasn't prepared for that." I stuttered, still covering my eyes. "Could you just...cover-up for a second."

"OK." I heard her say. "You can look now."

I looked back. She did pull the duvet up, but just below the wire of her bra.

"OK," I breathed out, trying to ignore her cleavage, "I think you're right about Jujubee."

"You think?"

"Yes," I replied before shaking my head profusely. "No. I know. You're right, Blair. I...I like her. Maybe even love her." Fuck, saying that out loud, it did something to me, "And yes, I liked you for so long, but you're right. I was always happiest with her."

I was expecting her to be disappointed, but she smiled. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"What?"

"Go get her."

Grandpa's words reiterated.

"You're not upset that we're not gonna have sex right now?"

"No, Brie." Blair threw back the covers, picking up her gold wrap dress off the floor, "I already learned how to deal with it. Knowing you belonged to someone else." She wrapped her body up in the dress effortlessly, fluffed out her hair and turned to look at me again. "I know you're meant to be with her. So, go. Go tell her now before it's too late."

Despite this revelation, I couldn't help but feel like a dick. Blair was smiling, but I knew she had to feel some level of hurt. I walked towards her and brought her into a hug.

"I'm sorry for what I did to you, Brie," Blair whispered in my ear.

I only held her tighter, "Don't be," and I pulled away, my hands still on her shoulders, "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have ever opened my eyes."

I kissed her on the cheek, and she smiled warmly. I turned to leave, and before I made my way downstairs, I looked at her once more. Her hand was on her face where my lips had been. I was glad I could give her that one last kiss, just something to hold on to.

"You really helped me, Blair," I said.

"Good." She said graciously. "Now go."

The urgency in her voice only fueled my determination.

I was under no time limit, but I couldn't help but want to reach Jujubee as soon as possible.

When I was outside, I shouted for the first cab I saw. Thankfully it pulled over. I got in and pulled out my phone.

But the car was still.

"Go! Drive!" I raised my voice.

"Lady. You haven't even told me where you're headed!" The cabbie turned in his seat.

Fuck, I sounded crazy. How he hadn't thrown me out was beyond me.

I only realised that I had no idea where my destination was. Jujubee could have been anywhere.

The driver was still looking at me, his patience growing thin. So I barked out Jujubee's address.

He seemed relieved to be on the road again. Only then was I aware of the honking cars behind us. Typical for New York, but this was too much.

I found Jujubee's number, trying my luck at the chance she'd answer.

It rang.

And it rang.

And it rang some more.

"Come on, come on," I repeated quietly to myself. Relax, Brie. It's not like she's catching a plane to the furthest state.

The phone went straight to voicemail. "Fuck!"

The cab driver glared at me in the rearview mirror.

I ignored him and tried again. Still nothing.

A few minutes passed, and I tried once more. But again, my luck was shit on.

I dropped my hands to my lap, sighing frustratedly. All I could do was just see if she was home.

My eyes trailed to beyond the window, just hoping to get there as soon as possible.

And there she was. Walking out of a pizza place, a solemn look on her face.

"There she is," I said aloud to myself before turning my attention to the cab driver. "Stop! Pull over!"

He came to a grinding halt. "Jesus Christ, lady! You really need to stop all that yelling and - -"

I handed him a $20 bill, "keep the change. Thank you."

I got out of the vehicle, eyes looking to where Jujubee once was. She was gone.

"Fuck." I looked down one path, not there. And looking down the other, there was Jujubee, rounding the corner and eating a slice of pizza.

I ran in my heels, people moving out of the way to dodge me.

I knew I was an inconvenience to so many, but Jujubee at that moment was my priority.

Rounding the corner, I saw she didn't get far. I couldn't help but bend over for a hot second, trying to catch my breath.

And when I recovered, I shouted out, "Jujubee!"

She turned, eyes wide like she had never heard my voice before. And when she saw it was me, her face sort of fell.

My hand reached into my bag, and I pulled out the Valentines Day card.

She looked confused at first, but then recognition settled in. And the disappointment was replaced with fear.

I stopped panting. And finally, I could speak. "You were right. Approval; That's all I ever wanted. And I thought that if Blair gave that to me, I'd be good enough. Because I never felt that. I never felt good enough. I wasn't good enough for Blair, I was never good enough for my parents, and I'd never be good enough for anyone."

Jujubee was silent for a moment, eyes falling to the pavement and then back up again. "You were good enough for me."

I breathed out. "I know. But I was...too caught up in my own shit to think about how you felt. Too caught up that...I didn't even think about how I felt." I paused, thinking of how the fuck I should say it. No, I didn't need to think. This wasn't some cheesy movie. "I...I love you, Juju."

She let out a breath, a shaky one like she was on the verge of tears. And her eyes became glossy. I really wanted to tell her not to cry, to be happy. But this moment, she wanted this all her life.

A tear slipped down her cheek, but she laughed. "Fuck, I got this fucking pizza 'cause I needed heartbreak food."

I returned the laugh. "Hey, it's OK. You can still eat it. It can be normal pizza."

"No. I'm not even hungry anyway." Jujubee admitted, passing the pizza to a random passerby (who was taken by surprise but accepted the free food anyway).

Jujubee walked towards me. I smiled, already smelling that sweet perfume.

But she pushed me back. "Fuck you for forgetting about the card. I knew you did. I always remembered yours."

"I'm so sorry. I don't know why I forgot. But," I paused, "Blair reminded me."

"She did?"

"Yep."

"Wow. She remembered. But you didn't."

"Yeah. I'm...really really sorry."

"Wow. Is this our first couple fight?" Jujubee put her hands on her hips.

"It could be. If... that's what you want to call us." I suggested.

"Perfect. Seal the deal?" She raised a brow.

I knew where this was going. "Oh, absolutely."

Jujubee stepped closer, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and pressed her lips against mine. And that unfamiliar spark coursed through me, like it came from somewhere inside her and travelled through my body.

And I didn't care for the fact we were in the middle of the street, probably inconveniencing others. All that mattered was the happiness coursing through me, the feeling of...being complete.

I pulled out of the kiss first. "Wanna get in that rocket and be the first to go to the other world?"

Jujubee smiled but quickly stopped. "I-I'm kinda unprepared. I mean... I'd need a toothbrush, my clothes..."

"Where we're going...you don't need 'em." And then I played the words back in my head. "Oh. Oh shit, no. Not in that context. I just meant... you'd get new ones, you know? Fuck, I'm terrible at this."

"No. You're just you." Jujubee laughed, and fuck, I adored how her eyes were crinkling at the corners.

We grabbed the nearest cab. When we told him where we were going, his eyes widened. It would be a journey. But we paid upfront, so the driver remained silent.

When we got to base, I almost cursed myself for not thinking about how we'd access all the areas.

But there was that mastercard. And they couldn't say no. They knew who I was, after all.

When we were in the gowning area, Jujubee and I helped each other into spacesuits. I was high with anticipation, ready to see what was on the other side, ready to do it all with Jujubee.

This was our dream.

Jujubee grabbed two helmets. One for her and one for me. She tossed it my way, and I caught it.

"Ready to go?" She asked.

"Absolutely." I extended my hand, and we made our way to the door.

The cold cool air was refreshing. My eyes travelled up and down the rocket. It was bigger than I imagined, and for a small second, I felt worthless. Like I was just Brianna Caldwell, a girl from a small town with no real purpose in this world.

But Jujubee slid her hand into mine. And I was reminded that all I had to do was shut my inner demons up. Because I did have a purpose. And I was something to someone. As long as I had her, that was all that mattered.

Jujubee smiled mischievously, pulling me along the bridge, leading me to the already opened door. She ducked down and climbed into the small space, and I followed.

It was disorientating at first, what with the rocket facing the sky. I feared I'd fall trying to get into my seat. But Jujubee continued to pull me along.

When we were seated, I wasted no time putting on my helmet and initiated the activation process.

I could feel Jujubee's smirk as I flicked at switches and pressed buttons. It only fueled my excitement.

A voice came through the radio, one of the engineers. We were bombarded with questions, demanding to know what we were doing, how it was too early for take off with no press to film it, all sorts of complaints.

But we didn't care.

When everything seemed ready to go, I put my hand on the lever. But before I pulled, I turned my head to her.

"Ready to see the flying horses?" I raised a brow.

"Just as ready as I am for the cats that bark." She breathed out a laugh through her nostrils.

With another smile, I pulled the lever. The ship was rumbling now, and my stomach was doing somersaults.

We both turned our attention to the sounds of protest from the engineers. They were livid now, shouting about how the media wasn't going to like this.

I lifted my hand up, flipping the source of the sound off. Jujubee cackled to my delight.

I put the intercom on mute. And the ship took off. Mom was gonna kill me for this. I'd definitely bring her back a gift. A new vase, maybe? Yeah. A vase from an entirely new world. Something new.

I looked forward, unable to see the ground below us. How high were we already? How long was left until we reached that crossover, the gateway?

My question was answered as the ship was illuminated by a bright light.

We did it, Grandpa. We did it.

#rpdr fanfiction #s10 #as5 #miz cracker #jujubee #blair st clair #blair x cracker #coming of age #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #angst #gimme love #grinder #tw mental health discussion

[bngtanah]

I'm (not) With The Band. | Prologue

summary: Adrienne is an indie producer who is hired to help co-produce BTS’ next album alongside their resident producer; Suga. Despite the initial opposition on both ends, the pair spend time together, share a few stories, dreams and aspirations and begin to hit it off really well. Wrapped up in the whirlwind of late nights and heated disagreements and reconciliations, Min Yoongi and Adrienne Rolle find themselves growing closer and closer. One night they decide to cross the barrier between personal and professional and do their best make a relationship work against all odds.

pairing: Min Yoongi  x Named OC

genre: drama, romance, smut

chapters: prologue| o1| o2| o3| o4| o5| o6| o7| o8| o9| 10| 11|

warning: light angst, smut, fluff, workplace relationship, slow burn, sexual themes, ambw, enemies to friends to lovers, developing relationship

a/n: still a fool. still re-uploading.

"It's good money, Adrienne."

Adrienne rolled her eyes quickly underneath her eyelids and switched her attention away from the woman sitting next to her.

"I get that but there is no way I'm moving to Korea, I can't even find Korea on a map!"

Adrienne and her older sister had been having this roundabout conversation for at least an hour and a half with no end in sight since neither side seemed interested in giving in.

"So what are you going to do? Just stick around here and make amazing songs for shitty rappers and musicians that don't wanna pay you?" Danielle's voice was monotone and completely lacking any tangible emotion but Adrienne could understand that this was her sister's way of trying to appeal to her common sense. "An opportunity like this doesn't knock twice, little one."

Adrienne bit back a witty remark because despite how much she didn't want to admit it she knew that her sister was right. She was barely making ends meet with the seedy pool of customers she had now and the select few that actually paid her on time only wanted to shell out pennies for what Adrienne considered high-quality work. There were times over the past few months when the money wasn't coming in and reactions from her clientele had her seriously doubting her talent that Adrienne genuinely regretted not going to college. There was no a guarantee that she would have been any better off than she was now but the constant 'what if' always made her second guess her choices when things weren't going her way. Her life now wasn't perfect but it was comfortable, she rented an efficiency from one of her sister's friends and worked a few odd jobs here and there to keep up with the bills. It was a simple life that she enjoyed and Adrienne wasn't so sure she had the courage to give it up.

"Alright, let's say I go for it" Adrienne stated in a softer voice.

"What happens if I can't keep up or they hate all my songs or they hate me? I wouldn't be able to come back here as a failure and honestly, Dani I don't know if I have what it takes to do this." Her voice wavered with raw insecurity as she nervously she began pulling on the ends of one of her long braids.

If Adrienne was being honest with herself, her own self-doubts were the main obstacle holding her back from just accepting this job. She was reasonably excited about the thought of moving to a different country and Danielle; who was married and expecting a child of her own, was the only family she had left. It was time for her to stop depending on her for so much and start carving out her own place in the world.

"Do you really think they would have contacted you if they didn't think you were more than good enough?"

"To be honest, I don't know why they reached out to me in the first place. All the music on my SoundCloud is in English and I've never heard of this company before they emailed me."

"Because it's good, dumb-dumb!" Danielle exclaimed while tugging on one of her sister's braids. "What's the name of these people again, you know I have to google," She asked with her phone already in hand.

"BigHit, I already looked them up. It's legit"

Danielle nodded but dismissed Adrienne's statement with a flick of her wrist, she needed to research everything for herself if she was going to send her baby sister off to some strange company for a job that may not even be real.

"Seriously, Dani I've looked it up they are an actual music company" Adrienne leaned forward to snatch the phone out of her hands, "They told me that if I decide to work with them I'd be working with a boyband called BTS."

"Boyband? Those still exist?"

"Yes! I was so confused at first but they're the real deal...which is another reason I don't want to go. I've been researching their songs from last year and the year before that and I don't know who's doing their music now but it's really good. Here, listen to this-"

Adrienne tossed her sister's phone back onto the couch and pulled her laptop off the coffee table and onto her lap, "It's all in Korean so ignore the words and just pay attention to the melody like I did" she informed as she pulled up 'Let Me Know', one of the recent tracks she'd been replaying.

Her eyes fell closed gently once she hit play and the first note rang out and Adrienne allowed herself to become lost in the music once again, she couldn't understand the lyrics but even without knowing the language Adrienne knew too well the feeling of heartache and desperation this song was meant to make you feel. That was always something she appreciated about music, no matter where you were from or how old you were a good song could bring people together in ways that words often couldn't. To Adrienne music truly was a universal language.

Once the song finished Adrienne put her laptop aside and looked up at her sister with a childlike stare, anticipating her reaction. "What? It's pretty" Danielle responded and Adrienne's shoulders immediately slumped downward.

"Pretty? Is that all you have to say?" 

"Yup. That's my review, it is a pretty song." 

"You sicken me, do you know that? If you weren't carrying my niece we would be pillow fighting right now." Adrienne grumbled and leaned down to pressed a kiss to Danielle's rounded tummy. She wasn't big yet but she was definitely beginning to show. 

"I keep telling you not to get your hopes up, Lloyd's siblings are all boys."

Adrienne pursed her lips and ignored Danielle then whispered to her stomach. "Shhh, I can tell you're a girl." 

"Stop talking to my fetus and get back up here, I'm not joking with you Andy I really think you should go for this job"

Adrienne bit the inside of cheek and slumped back against the cushions, she was silent for a few minutes as she tried to collect her thoughts and recall all the points that were made in their previous conversation.

"How am I supposed to fly half way around the world and tell these people that I can make better music than what they have now?"

Danielle sighed, her fingertips grazing over Adrienne's shoulder to gain her attention before pulling her into her arms to hug her and rest her chin against the top of Adrienne's head. 

"Do you think you're talented?"

"Yes....but-"

"Butts are for ashtrays, Adrienne. You are talented and that's the end of it, when you worry too much about comparing yourself to other people then you start in with the doubts. You didn't go to them they came to you, that wouldn't have happened if they didn't know that you were more than qualified for this." 

"I don't want to leave you."

"Oh little one," Danielle cooed and kissed Adrienne's scalp, threading her fingers through the younger girls braids, "I am going to be fine, I have Lloyd! And you're going to be making so many new friends you won't even have time to miss me."

Adrienne sniffed and wrapped her arms around her sister in a tighter hold, "You better not have this kid until I can come back and visit" She replied through the few tears that were falling from the brim of her eyes.

"Does that mean you're going?"

"I guess I'm moving to Korea."

"This isn't a joke, right? There aren't any hidden cameras, you're really going to let me do this?"

The excitement in Yoongi's voice was as foreign and authentic as the short happy dance he did in the middle of Bang Si-Hyuk's office before he caught hold of himself and regained his cool composure. 

"Yes I'm being serious" Si-Hyuk answered with a tiny grin "You've been showing a lot of improvement lately and I think you should take the lead on producing the group's next release."

Pale pink lips spread into a wide and almost child-like grin, those were words that Yoongi never thought he would hear. He always appreciated being able to contribute a song or two to their albums but to have the control and relative creative freedom over an entire body of work for his group was a professional goal that he never thought possible so early in his career. It really was too good to be true.

"Of course..." Si-Hyuk spoke up again and Yoongi came crashing back down to reality. 

"With your schedules and other responsibilities, it wouldn't be ideal to leave all the work on your shoulders alone."

"I assumed the producers here would be assisting me"

"Most of them are busy with other projects, we've decided to contract someone from the outside to co-produce along with you."

Yoongi nodded and leaned back in his seat, pressing his index finger against his lips in thought and to prevent himself from speaking out of turn. He didn't like this idea one bit and the previous feeling of excitement he had was dulled significantly by the thought of having to collaborate with someone he didn't even know. He wanted to speak up, voice his opposition before he was saddled with the dead weight of a co-producer who probably had no idea what they were doing. But he knew it wasn't his place to say no to a plan that was already in motion and he didn't want to jeopardize the opportunity he was being granted. 

"Okay, when do we start?"

#min yoongi #suga fic #suga scenarios #suga angst #suga smut #bts x woc #bts scenarios #inwtb #bngtanah

[likesomekindofcheese]

Hello! I saw that you were doing ships and I'm interested if they're still open? If so, could I please get ships for The Beatles, Queen and Bohrap? I will be sending a few of these to give a full description so I'm sorry for the spam! I never exactly know what to put in these! So, My name is Jasmine, I'm Australian and I speak English, German, Czech (Gotta love family that doesn't speak English..) and Japanese. I've always been considered the 'artsy' person among my peers. (1/5)

I'm usually rather quiet at first, often the person just sitting in the back and drawing. The main exception of this being if I'm performing, wearing a fashion I love or doing a hobby of mine. I love the arts and have always been a big creative type. I will admit, I'm quite passive/submissive and very indecisive. I'm also kind of insecure. I tend to do whatever I can to make my friends happy due to negative experiences in the past. Also because I love doing things for people (2/5)

I'm 5'7" and pale, I have hair that reaches past my waist and is naturally a honey blonde in colour, I sometimes dye it magenta. My eyes are a blue/green colour and for some issue, one tends dilate more than the other, I have an hourglass body and because of that, I do have some cuves on me. I also have a slight overbite (which got "fixed" with braces). In terms of clothing, I love wearing alt fashion such as Lolita fashion, Cult Party Kei, and my own style which is quite doll-like. (3/5)

For my job, I'm currently studying Primary Teaching and Drama in University and a few years ago in Highschool, I began work as a Professional Mermaid and Princess for hire, as well as working part time in an OSHC. I love the water and I've been an actor since I was a child, For hobbies I love to Draw, Make accessories/clothes/costumes, Cosplay and I'm also a trained Singer, Dancer and Aerialist. (My mum always said " if you want to do something, do it while you're young") (4/5)

I'm actually a Pagan and practise White magick and am starting to learn Green magick, my deities are Poseiodon, Persephone and Aphrodite. Unfortuntely, I also live with a few physical and mental issues such as Endometriosis and Chronic Fatigue, Anxiety, Post Traumatic Dress Disorder as well as being Photosensitive. So that can sometimes make certain things hard for me, but we get past that! I tend to easily befriend all Cats and Birds I meet. Sorry this was so long, I suck at this (5/5)

Of course I can! You seem like such a cool, fascinating person with an incredible life and abilities!! 😯🤩 and don’t worry about giving extra info, I don’t mind.

For the Beatles, I ship you with...

Paul McCartney!

So with your pale skin and dyed hair, Paul basically thinks you are a princess

So when you get your mermaid job, Paul loves to tease you, but he also takes cute little photos and lovingly calls you “me siren!”

Even though he will lightly tease you for your Australian accent, but you tease him back for his Liverpool one!

He loves animals, so he always notices how his sheepdog, Martha, wags her tail and even wiggles on her feet like a tap dancer for you when you come in to visit her. He adores that even animals know they can love you are trust you.

You both often go wining and dining, especially in your beautiful Lolita style dress, enjoying the food, atmosphere, and each other’s company.

Though the first time you went to one of those fancy places, you were intimidated by the menu that was twice the size of your head and half the items were in French. “Paul, what should I get here? I’m not even sure!” “Would you like me to choose for you, Jasmine?” “Please!”

He ordered you a nice dish and you both had a drink and then went walking out in the moonlight, opening up about each other’s souls and insecurities but holding hands and assuring each other’s worth.

Since you are a more quiet, “submissive”’person, Paul loves it when he can “baby” you and take care of you, as much as helping you with your hair and outfits and plenty of times he will order for you at restaurants.

He even made you flashcards and notes to help with University, though sometimes you caught him doodling on your name full of hearts.

He probably composed “And I Love Her” for you if you ever felt sad or insecure

For Queen, I ship you with...

Brian May!!

He loves that you are a bit taller than most, even if he is technically taller, it means he doesn’t have to do a squat to hug you.

He is amazed at your creativity and multiple hobbies! He even loves watching you fly up in arealist in the air, he even took a beautiful stereoscopic photo of you!

When he decides to flirt with you at first, he noticed you were back there drawing so he went over and asked about your art and you showed him and you both were soon smiling and subtly flirting with each other.

He was nervous about asking you out until the whole band pushed him to, they all shipped it from day one.

He loves to hear you sing and he enjoys hearing you practice from upstairs, sometimes he will slowly pluck your notes on a guitar until he gets a song idea. Then he will run up to give you a hug and kiss as a thanks (despite your confusion)

He loves that you know all those languages and begs you to go on tour with him to help translate (and see things like Japenese cherry blossoms and German castles together linking arms).

He makes little lovey comments related to your pagan beliefs

“Jasmine, you bewitch me!” “Well, I didn’t intend to!”

“Jasmine, you’re a goddess of beauty”

“Don’t let Aphrodite hear you! You’ll be in trouble, Bri!” “Not if it’s the truth, sweetheart”

And he understands your PTSD and anxiety and helps to make sure you have counseling, and always leans in with a glass of water and a patient, listening ear

As for BohRap, I ship you with...

Rami Malek!!!

He thinks you are an absolute doll, from your eyes to your figure and calls you it all the time!

Plus you are both the most fashionable couple ever and when there is a premiere and he brings you along, you both grin at each other as the media looks at you both, shooketh to the coreth.

He is so sweet and understanding of your acting life that he comes to all of your premiering shows in the front row with a bouquet of flowers so big it needs it’s own seat. Plus he loves to help you think through characterization with auditions and rehearsals.

He loves to notice how you make beautiful costumes and things and if you need something like fabric or a certain color of paint, he runs and grabs it.

You both paid up when the BohRap cast has a board game night and defeat everyone through teamwork, until you both laugh and kiss each other.

He loves to learn bits of phrases of German and Japenese from you, and he brags about your abilities in interviews.

Gladly flips off anyone who gives you crap about your overbite and is always protective of you, with an arm around your waist.

He admires your strength and determination in spite of your physical and mental problems, it gives him hope to go on.

And he understands anxiety, so he will gladly cuddle you and help you with breathing deep when you’re anxious.

You both have a busy life together, but then you both snuggle into bed, giggling and playing footsie and gently touching each other’s faces.

#carrieships #queen ships #beatles #beatles ships #bohrap ships

[lozza342]

For @aotomegane​, thanks for being my first ever requester!

Iwaizumi and Kindaichi argue and make up in about the same half an hour (because...I couldn’t think of anything dramatic and this is what happened instead. I’m so sorry if this is miles away from what you expected, it just... happened like this.)

University setting, canon-compliant.

A bit of angst and enough fluff to make up for it. Sorry and thank you! ;-;

(Note, the - lines signify change of character perspective... I usually just go first-person omniscient but I switched it up to first-person limited for this one, hope it goes down OK)

Part 1 of 2, Words: 4,280

(Part 2 will be NSFW)

Warnings: Mentions of smoking and drinking and just... lots of self-doubt.

"N-Not like that!” Kindaichi says in panic, throwing his arms up. Iwaizumi is frowning, his hands in fists at his sides. “I… I’m not saying…”

“I know what you’re saying, Yuutarou.” Iwaizumi interrupts. His tone makes Kindaichi flinch, hang his head beneath his shoulders. It’s a tone Kindaichi is unfamiliar with. It’s anger and upset and it cuts through the air to leave it still. Deafening silence falls, and although neither of them can bear it, the silence drags.

The once warm room becomes cold, and all either of them want to do is wrap their arms around the other and forget it, but nothing surfaces. Nothing but racing heartbeats and unspoken words.

Iwaizumi has had enough of Kindaichi’s ‘I’m not good enough for you’ bullshit. Time and time again he shows that, playfully threatens to beat it into him and yet… he’s still no different to the boy he was two years ago in that respect. Despite everything else, he can’t let go of the past. He can’t believe that he doesn’t have to live up to anyone’s standards just to be desirable. How many times does Iwaizumi have to tell him… he desires him, through and through.

You just feel sorry for me.

No. He's not taking that. He can't. After all he's done. He can't take it anymore. "You think everything I do is because I take pity on you?! Is that it?!"

Kindaichi's eyes widen, taking in Iwaizumi's red face. "N-No." He says, but the word is uncertain. "I'm… I didn't mean it like that."

Gritting his teeth, Iwaizumi stepped forward. Their height difference hasn't changed much from high school, but Iwaizumi never lost the ability to puff himself up. "What else is it supposed to mean?! I bend over backwards trying to make you happy and you- you think it's not because I-"

Iwaizumi pauses, heaving breaths, tongue heavy in his throat. All he can hear is blood rushing through his ears. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

"-care about you?!"

Dumbfounded, Kindaichi is lost for words, but Iwaizumi watches his brows draw close. "You're just proving that I am a burden! Yet you just can't admit you've only kept me around this long because you don't want to hurt me!"

It was Iwaizumi's turn for surprise to hit him. Where did that come from?

Too long passed, in Iwaizumi's head anger broiling. The sheer power Kindaichi's voice held was enough to know. He'd been thinking that for a long time. "If you think that… you can get out." He says. He doesn't think he's ever used that tone before. It's unfeeling and cold. Everything he's inherently not.

Iwaizumi can't watch Kindaichi's reaction. He knows it'll break his heart even more. Even hearing the sounds of uncertainty in the back of Kindaichi's throat, he drops his gaze and keeps it stuck firmly on the floor. Word final.

It takes a few moments. Iwaizumi gives him that to soak it in, reconsider.

"O-OK." Kindaichi says. It's laden with disbelief, hesitation, but when Iwaizumi doesn't move, Kindaichi understands. "I'll… s-see myself out then."

Iwaizumi waits for the apartment door to slam behind him. He'll never admit it made him flinch. While he had been filled with boiling rage, the way Kindaichi's attempt at staying stern fell flat, voice completely crumbling, now regret took its place. All that anger at Kindaichi dissipated, as it always did.

How could he have gotten mad?

Knees almost giving out beneath him, Iwaizumi lowers himself to the small couch, letting himself be swallowed whole by the dips worn out from use.

Kindaichi isn't a burden to him. Far from it. In fact, Iwaizumi thinks that it's Kindaichi keeping him together. Through everything that had happened since high school, Kindaichi was the one to bring him that little piece of familiarity. Familiarity in the form of that nervous innocence, brash clumsiness and sweet charm.

He hadn't changed much since Iwaizumi left high school, at least towards him. When Iwaizumi got the chance to actually watch him without being in the way - yes, he tended to watch, how could he not? - Kindaichi had changed. A lot.

It didn't take long to realise that Kindaichi was different around him. No… Kindaichi was the same around him? Either way it was obvious.

Kindaichi was learning to be fake.

And Iwaizumi hated it.

He's hated how when Kindaichi wasn't with him he was pretending to be someone he wasn't. Unfortunately, Iwaizumi understood all too well. He himself hadn't hoped to fit into the university scene easily either. Maybe he had been the same way, it was probably an unconscious thing. After all, there was nothing wrong with wanting to fit in.

Except that…

Kindaichi, like Iwaizumi, could only be himself around him.

Everything he kept in when he was away came like a flood when they were together. And most of that? His feelings of inferiority. Sure, he was nonchalant about it, another unconscious action.

It was hard to fit in where you don't belong.

Don't get Iwaizumi started on the people. Kageyama couldn't hold a candle to the viciousness of some students. Relatively safe before in the bubble of Aoba Johsai, the friendly rivalries and competition, now he'd been swallowed whole.

Honestly, that was part of the reason he was so insistent of meeting up regularly and checking up on him.

Maybe he had been overbearing but…

Iwaizumi liked him… a lot. He couldn't bear watching him try and be a rebel like the rest of them.

"Don't do something stupid…" He muttered, running his hands down his face. Refusing to acknowledge the wetness on his face, Iwaizumi stood up, watching the door as if expecting Kindaichi to just come back in at that second.

He had left his keys. And his coat. And his phone.

Iwaizumi couldn't even call him.

-

Stupid, stupid! Why did he say that?!

Kindaichi dug the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, letting his legs unfold from where he had had them held to his chest.

Everything was going so well. Kindaichi was… happy, so why did he say that?!

Cursing himself again and again, Kindaichi bit his lip, slid his hands to the sides of his head and curled fingers into his hair. It was cold outside, and the wind bit at his exposed skin but he couldn't care. Tears fell freely down his cheeks again, no amount of wiping his eyes could stop them.

Did… Iwaizumi just break up with him?

He considered finding one of his friends. He knew the hangout spots by now, where he'd stand and chat and pretend to enjoy the smoke burning his throat. At least then he'd be able to try and forget. But then… like this… would they even care?

Red-eyed, sniffling, insecure Kindaichi. No-one cared about that Kindaichi. Only the one that made them laugh by putting others down, that traded volleyball for drinking, pushed attention far enough away from himself while talking that people paid more mind to what he said than his person.

He would be eaten up if it wasn't for that.

And yet… Iwaizumi was different.

Hell, Kindaichi felt the fear of the gods last time Iwaizumi spotted him smoking.

He had stopped. Never wanted to start in the first place. Yet… Iwaizumi wasn't mad in the end, he seemed more… upset. 

At the time, Kindaichi argued that he was his own person, could do what he wanted, but in the end… Kindaichi knew he was right. Iwaizumi was always right. So he stopped.

He got shit for it from his friends, calling him a "pussy". Kindaichi, the idiot that he was, simply told them, "My boyfriend said he'd break up with me and he's hot, so…"

They had laughed at that, the way he held his arms up and rolled his eyes like he hated having to do it when it was, in fact, the opposite. It took so much weight off his shoulders… Until he realised how much he disrespected Iwaizumi to do so.

He hated himself. The him that was too much of a coward to show his own personality, as well as the him that was a total dick. Who was so fucked up that they would use the one person who was keeping them sane for their own delusive personality?

Kindaichi, that's who. The cowardly and pathetic Kindaichi. The Kindaichi who couldn't even take two steps from the front door before giving up and breaking down into tears.

If Iwaizumi didn't like him… Who did?

Iwaizumi… the guy who even now as his boyfriend was everything to him. His senpai, his mother, his father, his brother. Iwaizumi kept him on his feet, scolded him when he did something wrong, praised him when he did something right, cooked him meals and helped with his assignments.

Iwaizumi was Kindaichi's safe place. Iwaizumi didn't judge him for being a mess of clumsy limbs and jumbled words, not for his tendency to talk his ears off about T.V. nor his weird eating habits and endless energy. And not least of all for the tiny slip of distance he kept from him.

Every time they got too close he would shy away, and Iwaizumi was respectful of that. He didn't say anything but Kindaichi knew. Iwaizumi wanted more and Kindaichi was too scared.

Hell, he'd come so far even since high school and the one person he was keeping distance from was the one person he was closest to. Even Kageyama kept telling him to man up.

You're not the only one in this relationship, Kindaichi. It's a give-and-take. Stop being selfish.

Needless to say, he valued Kageyama a lot more now than he did a few years ago. Even though the message had made him grind his molars at first it was only because he knew it was true.

"I'm sorry, Hajime…" Kindaichi mutters, breath crisp in the air. A siren passing by makes him jump, and suddenly everything around him is in-focus.

A door slams shut below him and a voice calls out over the courtyard. He can't remember the guy's name but he knows he's in his second year. Kindaichi watches through the mesh of the apartment block's third-storey walkway as he rushes off and he sighs wearily.

It's late. He's probably going out drinking. Kindaichi thinks he may be twenty, but it's not worth even trying to decide whether drinking underage is morally wrong. He'd done it, despite never expecting to do something like that in his life.

All to impress some lowlife university students who probably couldn't give two shits about him. He's tall, he gets away with looking older than he is and that's his popularity through the roof, just like that.

Who was it he always wanted to impress? Before the pressure of attending lectures and handing in assignments on-time, having millions of alarms set at all times of the day reminding him to study, to eat, to nap?

Click.

The door next to him opens. It's an answer.

Kindaichi doesn't have time to look before a boot kicks his foot and the figure still pulling on his coat stumbles. Like a rabbit in headlights, Kindaichi's eyes are wide. He wants to curl up into a ball. He tries, hoping Iwaizumi doesn't notice him.

Futile, of course, who the hell doesn't notice the person they just tripped over?

-

"Y-Yuutarou!" Iwaizumi shouts as he recognises the boy slumped over on the floor. Kindaichi just tenses further, hugging his knees to his chest. Seeing his long limbs curled so tightly twists Iwaizumi's gut.

He had kicked Kindaichi out… and he was just… sat outside.

To be honest, it was probably one of the best outcomes. At least he hadn't gone off the rails to spite him. Still, even in his coat, Iwaizumi was shivering.

Kindaichi was too, vibrating with cold. Without hesitation, Iwaizumi crouched down, poked his shoulder and smiled. If anything, Kindaichi needed to know that while he had made a bold, unfounded and pretty hurtful statement about Iwaizumi's intentions, it wasn't enough to fall out over.

Regret had sunk into both of them. Iwaizumi wondered if it had been just as quick with Kindaichi as it had with him.

They were still both young, learning how to deal with things. Being in a relationship was newer to Kindaichi than Iwaizumi too, and for that, Iwaizumi had been cutting him some slack - and still is - but enough's enough.

"Yuutarou, I thought you'd have run off with one of your classmates. Was worried sick!" He says softly, forgoes poking him to thread a hand in his hair and attempt to tilt his head up from his knees. "And yet you're right under my nose!"

"Hajime…"

His voice cracks a bit. Iwaizumi knows he's been crying. He can hear it.

"I'm… I'm sorry…"

Iwaizumi curls his arm around Kindaichi's shoulder. With his other hand, Iwaizumi tilts his head up, forces him to look at him. "Listen. I didn't mean to kick you out… we both said stupid things…"

"I know, I-! I didn't mean to make you feel like- like I don't appreciate what you do!"

"Shh," Iwaizumi soothes, because Kindaichi's breath catches in his throat and his voice is raised, "Let's get ourselves inside. You're… You're freezing."

By the way Kindaichi shudders, Iwaizumi can tell he's only just realising that fact. Too focused on other things to worry about his health. "O-OK."

Unlike Kindaichi's university persona, he very easily takes Iwaizumi's offered hand to pull himself to his feet rather than refusing, and sinks into him when he opens the door to their apartment.

-

Iwaizumi sits him down, wraps him up in a warm blanket and boils some water for tea, no matter how much Kindaichi refuses and protests. Even if Kindaichi's also not in the mood to drink, at least it'll warm his hands up.

Well, that's the plan, as Iwaizumi passes him his mug and sits down next to him with his own. The silence stretches on again but it's not as awkward as last time. They both sip their tea and settle down, enjoy the comfortable silence. Iwaizumi knows he'll be the one to break it. Kindaichi does, too, by the way he looks constipated in anticipation for a grilling.

He knows Iwaizumi too well, and even flinches a bit when Iwaizumi clears his throat. "I shouldn't have thrown you out…"

"I don't blame you, Hajime."

Iwaizumi blinks, watching Kindaichi's fingers clasp the mug, interwoven with each other and gripping like he's scared to drop it. Iwaizumi thinks it's more likely to shatter with his death grip. It wasn't entirely unexpected of Kindaichi to say, though, he had already quickly apologised for his comment earlier, yet Iwaizumi didn't now consider it was appropriate to just send him away for that. "You should. I was being selfish, but,"

It's easy to see the dip of Kindaichi's head. He knows. He knows what he's done, how he's made Iwaizumi feel, but Iwaizumi isn't going to hold back this time.

"So were you."

The way Kindaichi bites his lip proves he expected this. All the better, really. If he knows what's coming, he's going to take it. Otherwise he never would've stayed this long.

"You aren't the only one in this relationship…" Iwaizumi said with a soft sigh, one he had needed to sigh for a long time. Kindaichi shifted to look at him, but he didn't seem surprised that Iwaizumi was saying that, slinking sheepishly back into the sofa when Iwaizumi didn't look back at him.

He was childish as ever, the way he dipped his tea once and kept his head ducked. Iwaizumi looked back at him once he knew for sure he wasn't looking.

"I'm trying… I'm trying to make you see it… but you're too caught up in yourself, you don't even listen to me half the time."

"I… I know I'm being selfish, I just… don't know what to do anymore… No-one likes me. Sometimes… even you-"

"Don't." Iwaizumi interrupts, curt tone leaving Kindaichi's sentence unfinished. He's looking up now. They're both looking at each other and Iwaizumi hopes Kindaichi can see how much it hurts him to even think about what he was going to say. "Just don't."

"I'm sorry… I-I don't know what I've been doing wrong…"

"You want me to tell you?"

At least that gave him the option. No matter how much Iwaizumi could just talk at him. It only mattered if Kindaichi was going to listen. Although Kindaichi took a second, huffed amusedly at something, he nodded. "Yeah…"

The next pause was a cue for them to put down their mugs. Kindaichi did first, turning his attention like it was some kind of formal announcement he was expecting, legs crossed awkwardly on the sofa. Iwaizumi followed, twisting his upper body to face him, resting his arm on the back of the sofa.

"You know what bothers me the most? You've got a really good brain," Iwaizumi begins, tapping Kindaichi's temple softly with a knuckle, "and yet you got such a thick skull."

Maybe it had been said, at one point or another, and not in such a manner, because Kindaichi stiffens a bit and frowns. It's cute because he looks a lot like fifteen-year-old Kindaichi, rather than the nineteen-year-old he is now. That's something he can get behind.

"Where did you go, Yuutarou?"

"Eh?" Kindaichi asks, confusion evident in his eyes. It sucks because Iwaizumi can't see them that much now he's tearing up.

"You're even starting to change around me… and I can't take that, Yuutarou. I like you. And if I don't act like I do like you… maybe that's because you're not yourself."

It hurts to say, and Iwaizumi's heart twists in his chest. Saying it aloud is much worse than he anticipated. And Kindaichi… is oblivious. That, or too in shock to take it in. "Hajime…?"

A hand extends towards him, stops at the threshold of touching him, fingers curled inward. Just there, ready to wipe newly shed tears from the crease at the top of Iwaizumi's cheek. And it drops, retreats just as quick.

Damnit if he shows a shred of caring, huh?

"Yuutarou… You don't have to appeal to everyone. You don't have to… appease everyone." Iwaizumi breathes in through his mouth so as not to sniffle, wipes his own eyes with the back of his hand. Roughly, getting them out of the way so he can say his piece. "People who don't like you… inherently aren't going to like you. And that's something wrong with them, not you."

Kindaichi is looking intently at him now. Maybe it's because he's never seen him cry before. Good. Because Iwaizumi needs that. His undivided attention. Like back in middle school and high school; the stares and the aweing, the respect and admiration. He needs that. He needs Kindaichi as much as Kindaichi needs him. That is non-negotiable.

"I know it feels like it's the right thing to do… to stop yourself drowning in the crowd and beaten into the mud. I would know." Iwaizumi twitches his lips up, watches realisation wash over Kindaichi. He opens his mouth to question, but Iwaizumi whips his hand up, presses a finger to his lips. "I could go into detail… but I won't. It's a long story and way off-topic." He says, shutting down any way out for Kindaichi.

Kindaichi nods in understanding. Quiet, his hands curl into his lap. He looks like a kid being taught a life lesson by his father. Maybe… it's not too far off the mark.

Slipping his hand back down from Kindaichi's face, he so desperately wants to take one of Kindaichi's also. Instead, he adjusts to sit cross-legged too, facing him in a mirror image. His knees aren't stuck out as awkwardly as Kindaichi's, but he still finds it mildly uncomfortable where a spring juts into his thigh.

"But what's more important is you. If you're feeling down, it's because of something you're doing wrong. You're trying too hard, Yuutarou. Just… stop trying to change to fit everyone's ideal descriptions. You'll run yourself ragged and still feel shit when all is said and done."

Kindaichi's eyes cast down guiltily. Iwaizumi doesn't let him dwell on guilt, though, tipping his head up with a hand under his chin.

"Deep down inside I know it's you. You're trying to make sense of this new world you're tossed into without a care. You're failing miserably… because you're you."

The crease of a frown on Kindaichi's forehead was expected, but Kindaichi is thinking, so he doesn't say anything. Iwaizumi doesn't continue, let's him think until tears well up in his eyes.

"Some people aren't made to weather things alone, Yuutarou, and I think we're two of them."

Iwaizumi reaches out to take Kindaichi's hand, pull it from his own lap into his. Kindaichi's gaze follows it, but he doesn't pull his hand back. "I didn't think-" Kindaichi hiccups, waits for Iwaizumi to stop him. He doesn't. Iwaizumi has said enough. "I didn't think… that's what you were mad about…"

Pursing his lips, Iwaizumi tilts his head, catches Kindaichi's gaze with his own. "I'm mad because you act as if there are other people you want to adore you. You focus so much on trying to impress them, not to let them down… Do you know how many dates you've skipped out on to play with your rebel crew?"

Instantly, Kindaichi's hand stiffens in his hold. Iwaizumi almost feels it go cold. "H-Hajime…! I-!"

"Damnit…" Kindaichi's mouth snaps shut, wide eyes trained on him. "If you want to be so selfish… at least let me be selfish too." Iwaizumi says with humour through yet more tears. Kindaichi was so focused on his so-called friends, he hadn't even considered how lonely he left Iwaizumi. "When was the last time you tried to impress me, Yuutarou?"

"I'm… the shittiest boyfriend in the world…" Kindaichi says brokenly, and Iwaizumi laughs humorlessly.

"Don't swear, Yuutarou. It doesn't suit you."

Oh. Oh what he would've given to see that before now. Kindaichi's ducked head, face red with guilt... like a scolded child, like a teenage boy disappointing his crush. Except tears drip from his cheeks and into his lap and Iwaizumi leans forward, wipes his cheeks with his free hand, like Kindaichi was going to do for him before.

"Forget the people who don't like you, Kindaichi. Well, I don't like you, either…"

A beat passes. Kindaichi grits his teeth, like he's expecting the opposite to what Iwaizumi wants to do. Even if it's a small reaction, Iwaizumi is holding his hand, can feel it tighten to say "don't leave me".

"Or rather… I don't just like you."

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Lips on fire, Iwaizumi leans forward, squeezes Kindaichi's hand like he's going to run away. They both need it. To stop pretending to be OK with each other as they were just to avoid… this. This conversation, this situation. Because they both felt like shit and hated themselves.

It was necessary though. To move on. To move up. And it was over, for the most part. Everything out in the open, exposed and vulnerable. Kindaichi didn't do intimacy very well because he hid himself away under layers of insecurity, but hell if Iwaizumi was going to let him stay that way.

Iwaizumi hopes Kindaichi's heartbeat is as rapid as his own as he moves to his ear.

"I love you, Yuutarou."

Kindaichi swallows, Iwaizumi watches his Adam's apple as he does. He doesn't expect an answer, not now. Not after today. Even still, Iwaizumi gets a wordless one.

By the way Kindaichi doesn't pull away, curl up like he's done so often in the past. It's not like he's a confident person when it comes to… them. Almost like it's too real, that it would be gone if he acknowledges it.

But it wouldn’t. Iwaizumi isn't someone that takes relationships lightly. In fact, he's the opposite. Kindaichi is a massive part of his life, has been since he was fifteen. Maybe he wouldn't have considered it then, but he does now.

Kindaichi is the one. And he'll make damn sure he knows it.

"You and only you." He reiterates, tilting his head to kiss his cheek.

Iwaizumi can feel it heat beneath his lips as he drags them forward, brushing so softly against his skin. Then they're at the corner of Kindaichi's lips and at this distance he's able to catch Kindaichi's watery, surprised eyes in his. "I…"

Nah, it can wait. Iwaizumi doesn't need Kindaichi to say it.

It's simple to shut him up, angling to catch his lips on the next word. Iwaizumi's tongue brushes along the ridge of his bottom lip. He stays there for a few seconds before pulling back a few centimetres.

"So don't change. Don't think you're not good enough... 'cause you are. And if you're good enough for me, why should anyone else matter?"

"Wow…" Kindaichi breathes, ghosting over Iwaizumi's neck as he moves back further. They make eye-contact before Kindaichi quickly ducks. He's red all over, blush spreading down his neck and over the small piece of exposed collarbone.

It's at this point that Iwaizumi realises this is as far as they've gone with each other. A simple taste of tongue has Kindaichi blooming fire. "Promise me. Promise me you won't change."

Cupping his chin, Iwaizumi guides his face up, brushing the space below his lip with a thumb. Kindaichi avoids his gaze at all costs. Iwaizumi just smiles, intertwining his fingers with Kindaichi's in their sweaty hold. "Promise." He says quietly, squeezing his hand back. "I promise."

#haikyuu!! #request #kindaichi yuutarou #iwaizumi hajime #iwakin #I love them a lot #please love them also #they're so pure #feel free to send in requests #i like writing

[dxmedstudent]

Have you ever had some periods in your life where you felt pressure to grow up really quickly (i.e. be in relationships etc)? I'm nearly 20 and I kinda feel that way, I really want to focus on becoming the woman I want to be and shaping the type of life I want to lead before entering any potentially heavy relationships but I feel there's this massive narrative that I would be a latebloomer/infantile. Do you have any advice?

Hello, that’s a very interesting question, so you’re probably going to get a long answer. Please bear with my waffliness, hopefully my answer will cheer you up. I think growing up is immensely difficult, because you’re going through a huge change. Now, I know we technically become adults at 18, but did any of us really feel like grownups at 18? I certainly didn’t! Even into my early 20s, I still felt like I’d just left school! It was only in my mid 20s that I fully realised I was a proper grownup. And that’s scary, because suddenly you realise it’s your life to muck up however you wish. Until then, your life is pretty much laid out for you, and you’re waiting for it to really begin. The weirdest (and most freeing) feeling I remember from that time was looking down at my body and realising “this is me. I’m not going to get any taller. I’m not going to get any skinnier, probably. I’m not going to get prettier. I’m not going to get healthier. But it’s OK.” And I realised that a lot of the things that I hadn’t liked about myself when I was a teenager weren’t so bad, after all. I was OK, and that was enough. After the tumultuous time that is our teens, your 20s is a time when you really grow into being an adult. But it takes time to really get to know yourself and what you want out of life.

It can be hard when you compare yourself to your friends. For example, I was still in university on my second degree when some of my friends had gotten jobs, moved out and bought cars. A couple had even settled down. You know, grownup stuff. Meanwhile, myself and my other grad med student friends were living in student accommodation or with our parents, doing homework, and feeling a bit like our teens had gone on for way too long. You feel financially insecure as a forever-student. And a bit left behind. I personally gave quite a few clothes and things to charity because I didn’t want to feel like I was the same person as when I was in school. We reminded ourselves that we were working on our goals. Some of my friends felt very conscious of their ages, many still do. But my motto tends to be “If I am doing something I love, then that time is not wasted. You never feel that time passing is a problem.”  So the key is to do what you love. Things that make you feel happy, and like you are advancing your life.Eventually, I moved out, got a job doctoring and stressing even more, paid bills and rent, bought a car and started worrying about planning for the future. Put more effort into looking after myself, and planning my career. And it didn’t really feel like it changed anything. I mean it did; life’s more complex and stressy when you take on “adult responsibilities” and the first year of doctorhood is like a yearlong panic attack. Bt once you get used to it, you realise that grownup life is overrated. You’ll be surprised at how not-different you feel even if you have all or most of the “grown up” milestones ticked off. The thing is, milestones such as these used to be something we hit earlier. You finished school (if you were lucky enough to study at all, not all my grandparents finished secondary school!), you got married, you had kids and settled into grownup life. Western terms, the expected order for the last few generations has been school - > university  - >job - >house - >marriage - >kids. But give the financial sitation Millenials are left with, these things don’t always work out. We’re more likely to go to university than previous generations, which tends to correlate with a delay in settling down or having kids; it’s just easier to do those things once studies are out of the way, so lots of people wait. Having a house, or a job nearby is hardly guaranteed, so we all end up renting for longer than previous generations.  You get plenty of people in the UK who are in their late 30s before they can afford to settle down in the traditional sense of the word. What I’m trying to say is that it’s not just you; our generations are acting differently, because the forces acting on our lives are different. So we have to be flexible in how we view adulthood. Most of my friends span between the mid 20s to mid 30s, with myself somewhere in the middle. By now, all of us have very different lives. Some got married young, a few have a child or two. some are in committed relationships, others are single. Actually, amongst medics I know, a lot more people are single than I ever expected. And for the most part, they are perfectly happy, with fulfilling lives. TV does not prepare you for the fact that your 20s or 30s isn’t like a romcom. Like on TV everyone just sort of meets people without any effort, and gets into longterm relationships, and everything ends happily ever after. It’s just not like that. Some of my friends have been trying so hard to be in the right relationship. For so many years. They had it all planned out; the guy, the kids, the house, all by 25. It just didn’t happen, but not for want of trying. It made me realise that there’s really no point in adding extra stress to ourselves about this, because it’s kind of outside our control. If you want to date, date, but please don’t force unnecessary arbitrary timeframes on yourself. Because feeling pressured risks settling just to get it over with. And when you know people who’ve settled or who’ve divorced by their mid 20s or early 30s it reminds you that you have to be really sure you’re in the right relationship. Getting married definitely isn’t just something to tick off your list.  But also a reminder that you can’t predict everything that will happen; I’m sure those people didn’t see t coming. So worrying too far ahead won’t help. We can only take things one step at a time and hope for the best. Just today I was having a Whatsapp coversation with my former roomates and besties about how pressure to date coming from family is frustrating, because sometimes it’s just not a priority for you. My friend, let’s call her Squirrel, to give her due credit. She said something very wise:  “ I’m really grateful to have a job that’s meaningful, and friends and interests, think if a person comes along to share that with great, but I don’t think it would be good to force it just to tick boxes.”And I think we all agreed, because we viewed dating pretty similarly. Personally,  there have been times when I have been more committed to dating (and when you like someone doesn’t it just feel like it’s all you think about? XD) , and there were times when it was literally the last thing from my mind. Just like my friend said. And that’s true for most of my friends. Like, sitcoms don’t prepare you for the fact that sometimes you’re just happy to chill and don’t really feel the need to look. And that when you do look, your reasons might not be like they are on TV. TV has a lot to answer for in how it depicts being single, especially single women.  I’m going to focus on single women who date men here, purely because the dominant narrative mostly ignores LGBT dating. Single women on TV are either bitter and angry or sad that they can’t get a man, or labelled too dysfunctional to be able to love. But in reality, people have lots of reasons for being single, just as they have lots of reasons for being in relationships. The more stuff you go through, and the more your friends go through, the more you realise it’s nothing like TV. Being single, dating, being in a longterm relationship; all of these can be either happy and content, or miserable depending on the circumstances in your life at that time. Sometimes we feel the need for companionship, and there’s no harm in meeting new people and seeing if anyone clicks; I’m not here to denigrate dating, or “looking for the one”, or wanting some casual fun. If it’s what you want to do, and many of us do.  If you want to meet someone, then logically, you have to make an effort at some point. If you don’t feel the need for it right now, then you don’t have to do it right now. I promise you as someone who has spent a lot of time single, for the most part nobody cares. The older you get, the more you realise that people aren’t overly invested in what you do, not even your friends. Sure, I’m ecstatic if my friend is dating someone she likes, and I’l be the first to cry at a wedding (God I love weddings. The merest hint of my friends actually being happy makes me weak). But does it actually affect me if they are single; no, we just chill together. And if they have a cool guy, then we chill together in a group. Our teenage years are so full of judgement (like, I, a grown woman, still have hangups about music of all things, because of teenage girls), but when you reach adulthood and you get out of the claustrophobic school environment, you realise other people don’t really care as much as you feared they would. Any ‘friend’ who does judge you for being single is not a great friend. But I promise, they will be few and far between.  I will grant you that family pressure can be real; my friends and I were discussing this in the context of parents wanting have grandchildren. Some of my relatives are incredibly pushy about the issue, offering to set me up with randoms they’ve picked out (er… no thanks) and generally constantly asking me about when I’ll get married, even at the most inopportune times imaginable. Like, they can be ridiculous. So I’ve NEVER told them ANYTHING about my dating life. I just smile and say “We’ll see.” and wonder to myself if they’d even get invited if I get married. People tend to view the age of 30 (or 25) as a kind of deadline by which to have achieved all your dreams. It really isn’t! So go for what you want to do now, and just remember to evaluate your priorities once in a while. These are my simple rules:1) don’t leave anything you value as essential in last place.  2) You choose what is important to you. 3) The order of priorities can change at any time; go with your heart. 4) don’t wait til everything is perfect in your life, in order to do the things you want to do.  Because it’s easy to get wrapped up and not realise that what you want has changed. If you ever feel that being in a relationship or having kids has become more important, then bring it up a few levels in priority.  Now, we all know that there’s a sort-of time limit on having kids, but 20 is not it. So if it’s something you really want, then don’t leave it til your late 30s to start dating. But otherwise, just do what you want to do now. If you want companionship, just see where meeting people for fun goes. If you would rather focus on work, then do that. But remember that if kids or a relationship are really important to you, you may have to prioritise them eventually, in order to stand a chance at having them happen. For some people they are an extra. For some they are essential. For some, they are the last thing they want! Only you know how much things matter to you.Think about what you want out of life, and take little steps towards achieving it bit by bit. As long as you’re working towards the goals that you value, then your life will be an interesting journey that you’ll enjoy along the way. I hope your journey is awesome  :)

#askdx #ask dx