#red packet studio

[velvetcloak]

red packet studio

[redvanillabee]

when you absolutely hate a holiday but you like any excuse to wear fancy dress so you wear those festive clothes in the most non-festive, most rebellious colours

[seungkwanniee]

pairing : idol!seventeen x fem!reader

genre : little angst , fluff

warnings : smoking, pet names, mentions of food (jun, wonwoo, mingyu and vernon) some cursing (woozi, seungkwan and vernon) reader being slightly younger (dino)

synopsis : dicovering that you smoke after few months of relationship

an : i'm sorry if some members are shorter than the others 😭 + omg i published it by mistake yesterday half written lol

〔 masterlist 〕

S.COUPS 』

boi was mad

"what you're doing?!"

he, almost aggresively, take the cigg that was laying between your lips and step on it

"babe, why?" he cup your cheeks, caressing your cheekbones with his tumbs

anger slowly leaving his body, making space for concern

bet that he pouts everytime he catches you smoking again even tought you said you would quit

JEONGHAN 』

he found out when he was teasing you

his hands were on your hips, tickling you

when from the pocket of your red leather jacket a packet of cigg falls out

"oh?"

he was mad confused

looks back and forth from your face and the pack of cigg laying on the floor

he picks them from the floor for you

he wasn't really mad, he was more like surprised

"you shouldn't, but you are a grown woman and you can to whatever you want"

JOSHUA 』

his eyes widen, yk like when he is angry lol

"honey..."

he slowly walks trowards you, where you were smoking

"don't get ang-" you can't even finish your sentence that he blocks you

"i'm not, I just want to know why you do that? it helps you?"

he is so gentle with you frfr

he listens to your reasons carefully, trying to understand you

"I don't like the fact that you smoke, I prefer that you don't do around me. I hate the fact that I just watch my girlfriend destroying herself"

JUN 』

you two were hanging at yours

a pack of cigg was laying on the table in front of the couch

you realize it only when Jun puts down his coup of tea right next to them

but he don't even notice it, little cat was too investend on the film

you manage to hide them in your pocket getting unnoticed, maybe

excuse him, he is like a kid

"what was that" he frown

"ooh, nothing. It's okay lets watch the film" you pat his head, letting him lean on your chest

HOSHI 』

do the most shocked face when he see the cigg between your fingers

he is too stunned to speak, that he stays silent for atleast five minutes

"ya~ what you're doing?!" he finally speaks

boy is frustrated, that he even (cutely) pouts his lips

he approachs you, scrounching his nose at the bad small coming from you

wrap your waist with his big arms

looks at you from below while you still inhale and blow out the smoke

"you look hot tho"

in love

WONWOO 』

when it happened it was at his house

he was walking trowards the kitchen to take some snaks for you both as you were complaining about bengin hungry

a pink and silver lighter laying on the floor caught his eyes, it was too bright to get unnoticed

he takes it from the floor and scans the few glitter that decorated it

ofc it was yours, only you and him put feet on his house recently and he was sure he didn't own a glittery pink lighter

he smirks, thinking how cute it was. He can see you putting effort on your little treasure

"love?" he calls you out, walking again to the living room, where you were impatiently waiting

"don't tell me you didn't got any sna- oh"

you cut your owns words when the familiar pink lighter is in his hands

you search furiously in your pockets and after getting that, yeah it was yours, you look at him with a guilty look

"it's a bad habit, but I know you won't stop just because I told you so"

actually he was so chilly about the situation, he ofc worries for you but it's your choice

WOOZI 』

one day you recive a call from him

without even an "hi" or "goodmorning" he speaks

"since when you smoke?"

his voice was terrifyingly calm

"wait, what?" you were surprised "you heard me, you forgot your lighter on the studio"

"shit, so this is where it went" you was searching it for DAYS

"yeah, this is where it went. Why you didn't told me before about that?"

Woozi voice was terrifyingly cold, that sent you shivers down your spine

"I was scared" "I see"

"you should stop now, I will don't just let my girlfriend destroy herself"

and when he says a thing, he means it.

DOKYEOM 』

"lovie?"

you hear the soft voice behind you

your cigg stands in mid-air when you turn around and his lips are cutely pouted

lost of words, he just looks at you and mumble incoerent words

deeply looks down at the cigg

"why you didn't told me before?"

he was more upset that you didn't told him than you actually smoking

he'd be pouting right in your face the whole week, until you promise him that you will quit

MINGYU 』

caught the pack of ciggs on your kitchen table when he was about to cook dinner for you

he didn't warned you that he was going at yours, you weren't even at home

he just entered, as he owns a copy of your keys

when you enter in your house and a good smell was wandering around the house, you know he must have seen them already

"darling, can I know what these are?"

the pack was looking so tiny in his big ass hands

but you can't take him seriously when his pink apron is leaced around his waist

"take me seriously for one time"

upset until you don't hug or kiss him

his members making fun of him are enough

MINGHAO 』

minghao catches you almost istantly, but doesn't let you know

when he sees you smoking on the balcony he acts really unbothered

meanwhile you were panicking trying to cancel all the evidence, uselessly

"I already know that you smoke, dove"

he sigh, he was waiting for you to tell him whenever you were ready

"that doesn't mean i like your bad habit. You can do meditation with me, I promise it will help you"

actually, you weren't into these things, but you do it just for him

SEUNGKWAN 』

he is the king of overreacting for one reason

I can't even explain his face, it's like you be betrayed him

takes the already half cigg from your lips a throw it

"girl, you can't be serious"

and when you try to defend yourself, he will roast you asf

"fuck, thats why your breath always smelled like shit"

he was too caught up in the moment, mean as hell

he will apologize after, clinging on you and act all cutely pretending that he never said anything

but he will make sure that you will drop your bad habit

VERNON 』

completely the opposite, he was so layed back

he casually sees the lighter that you poorly hidden

"the lighter is cute"

he says all of the sudde continuing eating his meal

unbothered king forreal

"you aren't mad at me?" you ask because like, he really doesn't give a fuck

"no? I smoke too"

a man full of surprises

smoking dates are now a must

DINO 』

pulls his cute confused face (I live for his confused face 😔)

"what?" he looks around confused, it must be a candid camera right?

tries to give you a lecture. If he can't with his 12 hyung, he will do it with you

"my wife, you are still so young for doing this" he cries out

"dude, i'm 23..."

"you are too young to call me wife"

[never-mind-09]

Who wouldn't want to win a meet & greet with actor Sebastian? Next time we’re relocating straight to a hotel bed—just kidding. (Or am I?)

You had never won anything.

Not raffles, not contests, not even the free coffee punch cards at your local café.

So when the email landed in your inbox—polite, official, and astonishing, you’d stared at it for a full minute, convinced it was spam.

Congratulations! You've won an exclusive Meet & Greet with Sebastian Michaelis himself!

You must have read it ten times. Even now, sitting nervously at a corner table of the quaint café they’d chosen for the meeting, you could hardly believe it.

The place was serene, rich wood tones, soft music, and the faint clatter of cups being polished behind the counter. It wasn’t a bustling event hall or a sterile studio. It felt... intimate. Secretive.

Your heart thrummed against your ribs as you checked the time again. Five minutes past the hour.

Maybe he’s not coming, you thought, twisting your hands together under the table.

But then the door chimed.

And there he was.

Tall, graceful, dressed impeccably in a sharp charcoal suit that somehow looked like it had been tailored just for him (it probably had). His dark hair was styled the way you always remembered it—neatly parted but slightly tousled, soft strands falling naturally to frame his sharp features.

If anything, he looked even better in person than on screen, like the world itself sharpened around him without ever quite catching up. His crimson eyes—contacts, you reminded yourself—caught the light in a way that made your breath hitch.

Sebastian Michaelis. In the flesh.

He found you instantly, like he’d known where you would be all along, and walked over with the kind of fluid ease that made the rest of the café blur and dim around him.

"You must be Y/N," he said, voice smooth as silk, the faintest smile curving his mouth.

You nodded, scrambling to your feet, nearly knocking your chair over in the process. "Y-Yeah! That's me."

He chuckled under his breath warm, amused, not unkind and extended a gloved hand.

You shook it, trying not to die on the spot.

His hand was warm, firm, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary before he released you.

"I trust you haven’t been waiting long?" he asked, sliding elegantly into the seat opposite yours.

"No, not at all!" you blurted. "I mean—it’s fine! I would’ve waited however long."

Smooth. So smooth.

That amused flicker returned to his eyes. "I'm honored by your patience."

The conversation that followed felt almost unreal. He asked you about yourself nothing invasive, just easy questions, his voice low and hypnotic. You talked about your favorite episodes, your two mischievous cats and he told a few behind-the-scenes stories, each laced with that dry, understated humor that left you smiling helplessly.

But there was something else, too. Something beneath the polished charm.

You caught it when he tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that seemed to go deeper than polite curiosity. You caught it in the way he moved so perfectly controlled, yet somehow... other.

And sometimes, just sometimes, you swore the air around him seemed heavier. Like the space he occupied bent slightly toward him.

You laughed it off. Just nerves. Overactive imagination.

Still, when your drink arrived and you reached for the sugar, you fumbled the packet sending it fluttering to the floor. You cursed softly under your breath.

Before you could move, Sebastian bent and retrieved it in one smooth, catlike motion, placing it back on the table with a tiny, almost imperceptible bow.

"No need to trouble yourself," he murmured.

You smiled shyly. "You're... really something else, you know that?"

For a heartbeat, he said nothing.

Then that smile, slow, knowing, curved his mouth.

"So I've been told."

There was a beat of comfortable silence, broken only by the gentle clink of dishes around you. You sipped your drink to hide your stupidly red face.

"I have to ask," you said, voice smaller than you'd intended, "how do you do it? Stay so perfectly in character all the time?"

Sebastian tilted his head, a glint of mischief sparking in his gaze.

"Who’s to say this is a character?"

Your heart skipped a beat. Was he joking?

He leaned forward just slightly, voice dropping into something velvety-soft.

"Perhaps... some things require no act at all."

You blinked at him, unsure whether you should laugh or shiver.

But before you could untangle your thoughts, he stood gracefully, offering his hand once more.

"Our time, regrettably, is limited," he said, and there was genuine regret in his voice. "May I escort you to the door?"

You nodded, your hand finding his again.

As he led you through the little café, you couldn’t help the feeling that, somehow, this meeting had been more than luck. That the red in his eyes wasn't just lenses.

Outside, the late afternoon sun warmed your skin as you reached the sidewalk together.

Sebastian slowed to a graceful stop, releasing your hand gently.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N," he said, inclining his head with a faint, courtly bow. "I trust the experience lived up to your expectations."

You laughed, breathless and a little dazed. "More than that."

His smile deepened subtle, almost private and for a second it felt like the world around you blurred into insignificance. Just you and him.

"If fate allows," he murmured, "perhaps we shall cross paths again."

With one last lingering glance, he turned and walked away, his figure sharp against the soft gold of the afternoon light. Not rushing. Simply going.

You stood there for a moment, heart still tripping over itself, watching until he disappeared around the next corner.

With a soft sigh, you finally looked down at your bag, adjusting it on your shoulder.

And froze.

There: tucked neatly just inside the top, almost as if it had always been there was a folded piece of heavy cream paper. Smooth. Impeccable.

Your fingers trembling slightly, you unfolded it.

In elegant, deliberate handwriting, you read:

> Meet me again?

Same time, next Sunday.

Café Lune.

No signature. None needed.

You pressed the note to your chest, heart hammering wildly.

Maybe it had been luck.

Maybe it had been fate.

Maybe... it had been something else entirely.

But one thing was certain:

This story was far from over.

[missmaniac25]

Ateez Scenarios - Realising you're in love with your best friend Part 2 (the confession)

Behold! The sequel that nobody asked for but I had to write anyways!

Each member’s part is between 600 - 700 words This does link to part 1 but I’m sure you could read this as a stand alone if your heart so chooses I don't think there's any warnings but let me know if I missed anything

~

Hongjoong:

Another night, another successful snack run. You and Hongjoong tumble back into his studio as the clock reaches two in the morning. Like normal, you’re both a little giggly and a little bit chaotic as you flop onto the couch whilst Hongjoong takes his chair.

“Throw me a chocolate milk, please,” you ask before Hongjoong dives, almost literally, into the packet before tossing one your way.

However, you were not ready for it when he tosses it your way and it lands on your head with a thunk before falling off of you and onto the floor.

“Ow.” Is all you manage to get out before your best friend is kneeling in front of you, still giggling, but clearly concerned.

“Are you ok? I really didn’t mean to throw it so hard.”

It must be the lack of sleep that makes you decide to play it up.

“Oh, the pain!” You pretend to be wounded. “Oh, the betrayal! How could you do this to me?”

Dramatically you place the back of your hand on your forehead like a damsel in distress and it causes your best friend to laugh even more.

“Oh no!” He mimics your tone. “I’ve fatally injured the most important person in my life! How will I ever earn their trust again!”

You go still at his words. Does he even know what he just said? Does he know how much it tugs at your heart strings when he says things like that?

“I’m the most important person in your life?” You dare to query, knowing that he might retract his words now that he was being confronted with them.

A faint blush appears over his nose and along his cheeks. At first you think you’re imagining it.

“Um, yeah.” It’s as though he’s suddenly become sober, the giggle disappearing from his voice. “You are. I thought you knew that.”

The two of you watch each other in silence for a short while.

“Does your head actually hurt?” He finally asks, bringing you back to reality.

“I mean a little.” You playfully lift your eyes as if you’ll be able to see anything and you succeed in making Hongjoong giggle again. “Do I have a boo-boo?”

He swats your hand away and takes a closer look.

“There’s a bit of a red mark, oh my soul, I’m so sorry!”

You muse that it’s really ok, you should have been paying more attention aways.

“Wait, I know how to make it feel better,” Hongjoong tells you, shuffling closer.

You’re about to ask what he means when he gently places a kiss on your head, assumedly where the chocolate milk had hit you. It lasts only a second but it feels as though every moment you’d ever shared with your best friend is captured in that second, in that action.

“Do you feel better?” He asks as he moves away.

You shake your head.

“Do you need another one?”

You nod.

There’s a smile on his face as Hongjoong kisses your head again, a little longer this time and your eyes flutter closed. You almost tell him not to stop when he pulls away.

“And now?” Hongjoong is still smiling, almost as if he knows where this is leading.

“Still not better,” you say, opening your eyes. “But I think I know what will help me.”

There’s no pull back from Hongjoong as you gently guide him down. There’s still a gap between the two of you. But after a breath, you feel his lips against yours and the rest of the world is forgotten.

You don’t know how long the kiss lasts for. All you know is that you’d give anything to have him kiss you like that from now until forever.

Little do you know, Hongjoong feels exactly the same way.

~

Seonghwa:

“Ok, ok, enough!” You plead with the people around you. “Damn, I’m crying I’m laughing so much!”

An evening out with your friends had been exactly what you’d needed to relieve yourself of the stress you’d been feeling. The banter dies down for only a short time before someone else strikes up a new conversation and the commotion begins again.

Next to you, your best friend sits uncharacteristically quietly. He’s barely spoken the whole evening, opting rather to sip continually from his glass. You don’t think you’ve even seen him smile.

After wiping away your tears, you affectionately nudge your shoulder against his. Seonghwa peers over at you and his expression softens ever so slightly.

“Hey, everything alright?” You ask, trying to be as subtle as you can be.

“Hmm,” he hums and you know he’s lying to you.

You nudge him a second time and this time he rolls his eyes.

“Come on, what’s up? I want to help you feel better.”

Seonghwa gazes around the table, almost willing all of the other people to go away. His look isn’t lost on you.

As discretely as you can manage, you take your best friend’s hand and stand up, pulling him away from all the noise and outside of the restaurant. Seonghwa doesn’t hesitate to go with you, trusting you completely.

“Alright.” You place yourself in front of him. “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing is bothering me.”

“Hwa…”

He sighs, his eyes darting to look at anything but you.

“It’s just…” He pauses and then finally gets the courage to look at you. “I didn’t intend for everyone else to join us tonight. I actually wanted it to just be you and me.”

To say you’re confused is an understatement.

“But I thought that you invited them?”

Seonghwa rubs his hands overs his face with a groan.

“They invited themselves. I mentioned to them that I thought about going out this evening with you and suddenly everyone was tagging along. I didn’t know how to say no to them or to ask you out alone.”

You try to find a middle ground; a positive for him to focus on.

“Is it really so bad to be with them though? We haven’t seen them in a while and you and I hang out together a lot just us.” 

“But I…”

He stops himself short. There’s an emotion in his eyes that you can’t quite place. Is it desperation? Is it longing?

Gingerly, he holds one hand out to you. You take it without thinking twice – you’d trust him with your life.

“I like spending time with just you,” Seonghwa admits. “I like when it’s only you and me laughing until it hurts. I want to be the one making you laugh like that, not someone else.”

The world stops spinning. The only thing you can focus on is Seonghwa – the beautiful features of his face, the feel of his fingers brushing yours.

“I was going to tell you something else tonight but I wanted it to only be us,” he continues. “I wanted it to be… romantic.”

You react before you can think.

“Should we leave then?”

You’ve clearly taken Seonghwa by surprise but you’ve also done the same to yourself.

“I mean, if you still want to… spend time with… just me.”

Your confidence quickly dwindles with every word you say and you wish that the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

“Yes.” Seonghwa finally smiles for the first time that evening and it makes you smile too. “I’d love that.”

You both waste no time going back inside, gathering your goods and quickly paying for your part of the meal.

You don’t know where Seonghwa is planning on taking you or what’s about to happen. All you know is that you can’t wait to spend time with him and only him.

~

Yunho:

‘Damn it why didn’t I wear something warmer?’

You internally curse your circumstances as you stand outside with the rest of your friends. The little fire that they’d made to roast marshmallows was not big enough to give you any kind of substantial heat. To be fair to yourself, it’d been sunny when you’d left your home that afternoon, but as the night had closed in, the temperature had taken a dip.

“You ok?”

You turn to find Yeosang. He glances at how you’re rubbing your hands over your bare arms over and over.

“I mean I’m a little cold,” you confess but try not to cause a fuss. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

He tuts quietly before shrugging his jacket off and holding it out to you. Adamantly, you try to refuse him but he’s insistent and eventually you end up with the garment hanging over your shoulders. And you have to admit, you feel much better already.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Yeosang smiles before turning back to the conversation happening around you.

It’s only a little while later when you feel someone poke you in the ribs. You don’t even have to turn around to know who it is.

“What was that for?”

Yunho appears next to you, a whisper of a laugh on his lips. The flames of the fire reflect in his eyes and you catch yourself before he notices you staring.

“Just wanted to get your attention.”

Ever since a few weeks ago, you’ve had to be mindful of how you act and talk around your best friend – any small slip up could reveal your new feelings for him. But when says things that like, it makes it so much harder.

Luckily, he doesn’t give you too much time to dwell on that as he notices your attire.

“Is this your jacket?” He asks you, brows furrowed. “I don’t recognise it.”

“Oh, it’s not mine. It’s Yeosang’s.” You tell him honestly, thinking nothing of it. “I was cold and he gave it to me.”

You miss the way Yunho’s jaw goes stiff; the burning in his eyes, not from the fire in front of you.

“Why didn’t you ask me for my hoodie?”

You almost laugh until you finally register his expression and how tense he is next to you. As you’re about to tell him that he just wasn’t around, he grabs your hand and leads you away from the group. When it’s just the two of you, Yunho quickly removes his own hoodie, telling you to put it on instead.

“Yunho, what are you doing?” It’s your turn to be confused. This is weird and you don’t know what to make of it.

“I don’t want you wearing anyone else’s clothes. Please just wear my hoodie.”

“I still don’t understand what…”

“I’m in love with you!”

The confession hangs in the air. It’s a glass bubble that if it’s not caught, it’ll shatter. You want to tell someone to pinch you just to make sure that this isn’t a dream.

“I’m in love with you.” Yunho’s hand clamps his hoodie tightly. “And seeing you wear someone else’s clothes is making me go insane, ok?”

It’s incredible how hastily you pull Yeosang’s jacket off of your shoulders and reach out for Yunho. He beats you too it though and gently pulls the hoodie over your head, just like he did the day you realised you liked him more than a friend. You let him help you put it on properly and he takes his time pulling it down over your torso.

“I suppose I should go give this back to Yeosang.” You say, fiddling with the jacket you now hold.

Yunho smiles mischievously and tugs at his hoodie on you, gently forcing you closer to him.

“Or we could make him wait a little longer.”

You feel his hands on your sides and you finally get the confidence to look him in the eye. There’s that feeling of butterflies in your stomach.

“Yeah,” you agree, finally giving in to everything you’ve wanted to do for so long now. “He can wait. I’ve waited long enough for you.”

~

Yeosang:

Your anxiety was almost palpable as you knocked on the door to Yeosang’s apartment. There was already music playing just loud enough to be heard outside and you could hear the voices of some of your friends. Normally, you wouldn’t be so nervous about going to your best friend’s birthday party. Hell, under normal circumstances you would’ve been the first one there. But there were two things that had held you back.

The gift. You’d taken a gamble getting this but you’d banked on the fact that he would get the inside joke.

Your feelings for Yeosang. They’d morphed into ‘more than friends’ and you were certain that he could tell and that the vibes were off between you now.

Jongho was the one to finally open the door and let you inside, calling into the apartment so that everyone knew you were here. No room to hide now.

Throughout most of the evening, you’d managed to avoid Yeosang until it came time to open the presents, and you found yourself seated next to him on the couch.

‘He’s so beautiful,’ you mused to yourself before shaking yourself back to reality.

The tension in your body only grew as Yeosang opened every gift until only yours remained.

“Hmm, I wonder what this is?” Yeosang said carefully pulling the paper away from the small box.

You held your breath.

It was a candle. A custom scented candle that you’d had made using a combination of his favourite smells. Something sweet, fresh and a little bit earthy.

Yeosang was quick to pull the candle out and sniff it, a smile on his face.

“I love you.” He looked over. “Thank you.”

No one else seemed to have heard it and at first you weren’t sure you had either. The way Yeosang casually went back to telling everyone about the joke of the candles, you debated whether he had realised what he’d said at all.

The party goes by in a blur after that and when you come to your senses again, you realise that everyone has now left expect for you and the two roommates. Yunho and Yeosang look around their apartment and you quickly jump up to help them start the cleaning up process. They try to dissuade you but you’d do anything to stop from thinking about what happened earlier. With your help, the job is finished in no time at all and Yunho declares that he’s going to bed, leaving you and Yeosang alone.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” he tells you.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Right now or…”

For a moment you contemplate abandoning this conversation and just going home never knowing. But you can’t.

“When you opened my gift, you said that you love me.”

Yeosang opens and closes his mouth, forehead creased as he thinks back.

“But I do love you,” he says, again far too casually for your liking. “You’re my best…”

“But do you just love me as a best friend or do you love me love me?”

You didn’t mean to cut him off. You draw back with a soft apology.

“Look, I’ve been a little in my own head about us, our relationship,” you confess. “I just need to know how you feel about me.”

The two of you stare at each other. There’s muffled noise from up the passage but neither of you register it until Yunho’s head pops into the doorway.

“I don’t mean to eavesdrop,” he says, causing you and Yeosang to whip your gazes to him. “I just thought I’d let you know that he does feel the same way, he’s just really bad at expressing it.”

With a curt nod, Yunho disappears again, leaving you to deal with that bomb shell.

When you look back at Yeosang, you can see red creeping up his neck and ears.

“That’s not how I wanted to tell you,” he says in a whisper before raising his voice again. “But I do love you. I love you love you.”

You’re quick to wrap your arms around him and breath him in. He smells like clean linen.

“Good. Cause I think I love you love you too.”

~

San:

It’s Friday evening and it is finally time to open another letter. This had become your routine ever since San had gifted you the shoebox filled with white envelopes just over half a year ago. It lived on your coffee table in your lounge which is where you now found yourself after a long week, ready to be comforted by the words of your best friend. Although he wasn’t away at the moment but he was still busy – this would have to do.

‘Week 23’

Hastily you open the envelope and pull out the letter.

‘To my best friend

I can’t believe this is already the 23rd letter I’ve written. Kind of wild. It’s also very late right now so I apologise for the choice I’m about to make. I probably won’t remember that I wrote this tomorrow when I wake up but I feel like I have to tell you. We’ve known each other for a long time now, you’re my best friend. I’d even say you’re closer than a best friend. You’ve seen parts of me that no one else ever has and I wouldn’t trust anyone else with the secrets I’ve told you. So, I’m trusting you with one more.

I don’t want to just be your best friend. I want us to be more. I’ve had feelings for you for a while now but for the sake of our friendship, I’ve kept them to myself. But I can’t do it any longer. If you don’t feel the same way, you can throw this letter away and never mention it again. But if by some small miracle you do, come find me. I’ll be waiting for you.

All my love

San.’

The thumping of your heart in your chest is the only thing keeping you from thinking that this is a dream. The implications of his words swim around your head. He gave you this almost six months ago. He wrote the letters before then. How long has San felt about you the way you feel about him?

You almost fall over yourself as you get up and gather your belongings. You can’t wait a second longer. You’re going to find him.

You knock rapidly on the door to the apartment. Theres a sense of urgency that drives you forward buzzing through your body; what if he’s changed his mind since then?

It’s Mingi who opens the door.

“Hey, what are you…?

“Is he here?” You don’t even let him finish.

“We just got home, what do you… ok never mind.”

Mingi lets you shove him aside and move into their home. With determination you make your way to San’s room, knocking again and letting yourself in when no one objects. Time stands still when you see him. San smiles at you, saying something about how he’d hug you but he’s been working out and he doesn’t want to gross you out.

“Do you still…” You stop yourself short, looking down at the letter. “You said…”

There’s a confused look on your best friend’s face when you look at him again so you hold the paper out to him. San takes it from you and realisation washes over him as he reads it.

“Do you still feel that way?” You finally manage to ask, dreading what his answer could be. All of this could end up being a huge mistake.

His eyes meet yours, expression sombre.

“You didn’t throw it away.” He states calmly.

“No.” You shake your head a little. “I came to find you.”

Slowly, a smile breaks out onto San’s face and you find yourself wrapped in his arms. Finally, the sense of urgency that had been driving you till now dissipates.

It’s an unspoken agreement that things are different now but you don’t care. Best friends, more than best friends. As long as you’re close to San, that’s all that matters.

~

Mingi:

To be honest, it’s been a little weird between the two of you since that night. Normally, Mingi would message you every day, even if it was something stupid like a meme or a joke. The past few days there’s been nothing but radio silence from him. At first you tried to contact him but when you got no reply, you lost a bit of hope and decided that it wasn’t worth hurting yourself even more.

The thought of reaching out to one of your mutual friends had come to mind; even that seemed like crossing a line now.

It’s been almost a week since you’d last spoken to Mingi. The entire world feels out of order as you try to busy yourself with anything other than the thought of him, the thought of losing him. Despite the fact that it’s getting late into the night, your apartment feels like a cage so you pull your shoes on and head out. There’s no destination in mind. You just know that you have to move.

You’re stopped dead in your tracks though when you get to the street only to find a familiar car parked out front and your best friend sitting in the driver’s seat. Mingi runs his hands through his hair and you reason to guess that he’s been doing that for a while, judging by the way it stands up in various directions.

A little voice in the back of your head tells you to run back inside and avoid him forever. A debate begins inside of yourself but before you can make a decision, Mingi’s noticed you standing and staring intently at him. You meet each other’s eye. He reaches over and opens the passenger side door without a word and you need no further invitation to climb in.

For a short while, he just drives. It seems that without having to tell him, he’s understood what you had wanted to do before you’d run into him.

“I’m sorry.” You break the silence. Truthfully, you don’t know exactly what you’re apologising for but it feels like the right thing to say.

“No, I’m sorry.” Mingi says. “I’ve been a jackass.”

“Yeah, you kind of have.” There’s a bubbling of anger inside of you. “You just… disappeared on me, Mingi!”

Timidly, he looks over at you. It’s clear he’s trying to figure out how to explain himself but the words just aren’t coming out. The car rolls to a stop as he pulls off the road and switches off the engine.

“Look.” You shift in your seat so that you can face him before you continue. “If what I said made you feel uncomfortable then I’m sorry. We can just pretend that it never happened and go back to… before that happened.”

On top of the anger, desperation is starting to build. You can’t lose Mingi over this; not over your mistake.

“I can’t forget about it,” Mingi all but whispers. “How do you forget the person you have a crush on saying that you’re perfect?”

It takes a second for it register in your mind.

“You’ve been avoiding me because you like me?”

Mingi seems almost ashamed as he looks down, hands twisting over the steering wheel as he grips it.

“I panicked.” He confesses. “I didn’t think that you meant it like… that. I still don’t think it.”

If you hadn’t been hindered by the space of the car, you’d have thrown your arms around him and held onto him tightly. Instead, you reach for the hand that’s closest to you, pulling it off of the steering wheel and into your lap. The action is enough to get his eyes to lift and look at you.

“Mingi. I did mean it like that. I thought you were avoiding me because you didn’t like me back.”

“I’m sorry.” He says, now clasping your hands in his.

“You don’t have to apologise.” In a moment of bravery, you raise his hand and press a kiss to his knuckles. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

~

Wooyoung:

You wait impatiently on the pavement. He was meant to be here eight minutes ago, not that you’re keeping track of the time or anything, but with no word from him you’re tempted to just abandon the ride and go back into your building and get lost in a series. But as you peer down at your phone for the hundredth time, the roar of an engine catches your ear.

You’d know the sound of Wooyoung’s motorbike even in your sleep.

He screeches to a halt in front of you, the kickstand hitting the ground without even turning the engine off and he takes your helmet off of his arm and practically shoves it onto your head. He then hastily ushers you onto the seat behind him before taking off again once your arms are loosely around his waist. Honestly, you don’t know what the big rush is for. There’s nowhere you two need to be; this was just meant to be a casual afternoon ride to unwind after one hell of a week.

Tap tap.

Your grip on Wooyoung’s body tightens just before he accelerates. If you could get away with doing this with him any other time you definitely would. Despite how affectionate your best friend was, you never pushed yourself onto him, so these stolen moments while he rode you to who knows where were everything.

It’s five minutes later when Wooyoung pulls up next to an open park.

“Come on, we have to go!” He all but shoves you off of his bike, grabbing your hand after you’ve taken your helmets off and pulling you forward.

“Wooyoung, what is the rush?” You say exasperated but you let him haul you along.

The other people around you are a blur as he forges on, leading you down path after path.

“I don’t want us to miss the sunset!”

You want to shout at him. All this hullabaloo for a sunset!?

Once he’s dragged you to the top of a small hill and parked you on a bench do you let loose.

“Wooyoung! You infuriate me!”

At first, he looks a little sheepish but it turns into a naughty smile after only a second.

“Maybe but you still love me.”

His words shut you up immediately.

Wooyoung places himself next to you, slinging an arm over your shoulder. You shuffle a little closer to him but not enough to make any difference.

“Are you going to tell me what’s so important about the sunset now or should I just guess?” You query.

“Just cause…” He trials off but you feel him tap your shoulder twice.

“Why do you do that?” You gaze up at him. “Tap me even when we’re not riding.”

It’s Wooyoung’s turn to shuffle in his seat, unintentionally edging himself closer to you.

“It’s how I let you know that I love you.”

Once again, you’re left stunned at how casually he says those words.

“Do you mean it?” You dare to ask, your gaze focused on him and only him.

The sun in front of you continues its slow descent.

“Always.” Wooyoung looks at you, his eyes glancing down at your lips ever so quickly.

Despite what he says, there’s still a part of you that thinks he doesn’t mean it. He’s only saying it because he’s your friend and there’s nothing more to read into.

You feel something on your shoulder.

Tap tap.

‘Love you.’

Your breath catches in your throat as you think back on all the times your best friend has done that simple action. All the times he’s confessed and you just didn’t know.

“I love you too,” you tell him.

Wooyoung smiles, pulling you closer to him and finally pressing his lips to yours. Even while you kiss, there it is again.

Tap tap.

You’ll never think of it the same way again.

~

Jongho:

“Did you switch off all the lights in the lounge?” You ask as you put away your clothes.

Jongho appears from the bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth still, mumbling words you don’t understand.

“I have no idea what you’re trying to say.”

Jongho, holds up one finger telling you to wait before he disappears again.

As far as sleepovers with your best friend went, this was not out of the ordinary. A little bit of chaos, a little bit of humour. A whole lot of unresolved feelings from your side.

You’d accepted your fate of only being Jongho’s friend and nothing more, and opted to never let him know how you really feel about him.

Jongho returns again to tell you that he did switch off all the lights, he’s not an idiot.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you laugh before a pillow is abruptly thrown your way.

It’s harmless fun but damn it does it break your heart to imagine him doing this with anyone else.

You return the pillow to where it belongs on the bed, slip under the covers and snuggle in for the night, ignoring those feelings welling inside of your chest.

“Do we have plans for the morning?” Jongho asks as he too climbs into the bed.

“Nope. Not unless you want to do something.”

“The only thing I want to do is sleep in.”

You hum in agreement already looking forward to it.

The room goes dark and you feel Jongho settle down next to you; you facing him, his back to you. The proximity is something you’ve been acutely aware of since that cold, rainy morning. It hadn’t happened again that he’d pulled you that close to him and you weren’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“Stop thinking so loudly,” Jongho says, turning over to face you even though he can’t see you.

“I’m not thinking loudly.” Your attempt to deflect doesn’t work on your best friend.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

A part truth is better than nothing, you decide.

“There’s this boy that I like. But I don’t think he wants to be anything more than friends. And everything we do together, I overthink it wondering if he’d rather be doing it with someone else.”

You wonder if you’ve said too much – if you’ve given the game away. Then you feel an arm over your torso and Jongho pulls you closer to him, holding you against him. You don’t dare to breath.

“Whoever he is, he’s an idiot if he doesn’t want to be with you,” he says. “I’d always pick you.”

You’re dead certain that he can feel how fast your heart is beating. A thousand thoughts begin to fly through your head all at once.

How can he just say something like that? Does he know that it’s him? Will I ever be able to get over him now?

“You’re thinking too loudly again.” He sighs as he soothingly rubs his hand over your back. “Talk to me.”

“Do you promise not to get mad?”

“Why would I get mad?”

“Because you might not want to be my friend anymore if I tell you.”

His movements cease for just a moment and then he promises.

With a deep inhale, you tell him the truth.

“It’s you.”

You wait for him to turn you down. To get up and leave. For the end to begin.

“Thank goodness,” Jongho utters quietly and at first, you’re not sure that you heard him properly. “I was about to get mad that it was someone else.”

“You… you like me?” You ask, still wondering if that is what he really meant with everything he was saying.

His body vibrates as he laughs quietly.

“Do I need to make it clearer? I’m infatuated with you.” Jongho places a kiss to the top of your head. “I meant it when I said that I’d always pick you.”

He snuggles you as close as he can and you finally let your mind go quiet.

[bullet-prooflove]

Six: Brad Torrance x Reader (911)

Tagging: @kmc1989

The first time Brad Torrance lays eyes on you, you’re standing on the outskirts of his studio lot, smoking a cigarette as you watch his take for the latest episode of Hotshots.

You’re impossible not to notice because you look just like a fucking queen, decked out in a stunning royal blue gown with a corset that clings to your form, pushing your tits up accentuating your waist. There’s a string of pearls looped around your throat, a gold cross drawing his attention to your décolletage. The skirt is a huge sprawling affair that creates a barrier between you and the others watching from the edge of the outdoor soundstage.

“Don’t suppose I can bum one of those off you love?” He requests during a set change, gesturing at the pack of smokes in your hand. He’s been trying to quit for years now but like a siren, the cigarettes call to him whenever he gets so much as a whiff of nicotine in his direction.

You take one out of the packet, tapping it against surface of the cardboard before you hand it to him, he places it between his lips before you lean in close to ignite it with a silver plated lighter in your hand.

You’re much more beautiful than he gave you credit for, even under all that make up. His heart palpitates in his chest as he finds himself staring into those pretty eyes of yours. A man could get lost in them he thinks as he takes a drag of the cigarette.

“Catherine Howard.” He says and your red lips curve up into a smile as your fingertips trail down the pearl necklace drawing his gaze to your cleavage.

“You’re a fan of Henry the VIII?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“I’m a fan of SIX, I saw it four times when I was back in the UK.” He tells you, blowing out a stream of smoke out of his mouth. “Henry was a pompous prick, he didn’t deserve a single one of those women.”

“Brad Torrance, the feminist, how unexpected.” You say placing your hands on your hips and you look every inch of the queen you are. “We’re filming a screen adaption next door in Studio 12.”

“No shit?” He remarks, tapping the ash off his cigarette. “I’ll have to pop in when we wrap up here, make sure it’s up to snuff.”

The dress shifts slightly, swooshing as you kick him in the calf and he smirks before catching a glimpse of a lethal black laced up boot and glittering royal blue leggings with black sheer slashes underneath revealing bare skin.

It’s then that he realises that the skirt is a tear away. When he looks closely he can see the Velcro strips holding it in place and all he can think about is his hands gripping the fabric and tearing it from your body as he kisses you. You must see the heated look in his eyes because you have that mischievous look, one that promises a little fun and whole load of trouble.

“You wanna see what’s underneath, you’ll have to make good on that promise to come by Brad.” You tell him, waving your hand at the production assistant as she calls your name.  

“I might just so that.” He murmurs, dropping the butt of his cigarette and crushing it under the heel of his boot as he watches you go.

There’s no might about it, he’d move heaven and earth to see you again, and that’s exactly what he does.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[ro-writesstuff]

domestic life - george daniel

minors do not interact, all fics are 18+

summary: a lazy sunday around the daniel household.

a/n: i love the idea of married george and reader, so here you go

content warnings: smut, domestic george

george was standing in front of the couch with the task of trying to find a movie for you two to watch. the remote swiped through all categories: horror, comedy, thriller, you name it. he finally settled on 'Pride and Prejudice' after about ten minutes, hitting play and feeling quite proud of himself, since it was your favorite movie after all.

the metal band glimmered in the light as your hand moved to press the 'popcorn' button, memories flooding back to when george was bent on one knee, glee imminent in his eyes as he asked you to marry him.

george's arm snake around your waist, causing your pulse to quicken as you watch the packet turn round and round in the microwave. his hands rested on your hips, fingers firm against them. you can't seem to take your eyes off them.

the steadiness reminds you of a particular time he came home late from the studio and held and fucked you into the next day, leaving red marks and hickeys all over you.

your face flushes as you think about the memory.

"what're you gettin' all coy about, hmm?"

you smile, trying to rid of the naughty thoughts. "nothing, can we just watch, please?"

your husband takes you in: face flushed, voice quiet and words minimal. you want something, and he knows exactly what it is.

"say the word and we'll do more than just watch the movie, love." he places a chaste kiss on your temple, grabbing your hand and leading you to the couch. you scoffed as the opening credits played, the thoughts still bouncing around in your mind.

***

about halfway into the movie, george had dozed off, small snores escaping his chest. like clockwork, he fell asleep at your favorite scene; not that you minded, you just thought it funny. his arm was slung across your lap as your fingers mindlessly dragged against the ink on his skin. though you loved his striking voice and strong aura, you always loved seeing them in moments like this.

calm and peaceful.

he stirred, the soothing sensation on his skin slowly pulling him out of sleep. "hi, my gorgeous wife," gruff and calm, the four-letter word danced around you in the air as he pulled himself closer to you.

"hello, my darling husband."

"look gorgeous," mumbling, he pushed his lips against your arm.

the soft contact caused your stomach to flip. "oh is that right," you giggled, his now much larger frame hovering over you.

"mhmm, always." dragging his lips down your neck, he lightly sucked earning small whimpers from you. his body melted on top of yours, the bulge in his pants becoming more prominent and needy.

"george," you moaned, his lips soft against your skin, causing your breathing to become uneven as his hands roamed all over your body.

“mm?”

“want you to eat-“

“way ahead of you,” he interrupts, eyes closing in on your lower half. you feel your stomach surge with excitement as he peels off your underwear.

your head turns to the slight tapping of rain against the glass catching your attention for a moment, the noise tranquil and serene. george’s mouth latches onto your skin, pulling your attention back to him.

he devours you like a man starved, folds wet and ready for him as he intermittently places kisses on the inside of your thighs.

you feel like you’re going to explode as he thrusts his fingers into you. moans escape your lips as george himself groans into your pussy, vibrations causing your hips to jolt. the band in your stomach starts to unravel faster and faster with every thrust and press of his lips. “fuck, georgegeorgegeorge,” you babble.

“come for me darling, know you want to,” he says, movements never haltering. need starts to grow in him as you start to flutter away from him, moaning and chanting his name like a prayer. with a few more thrusts, your juices gush all over his hand as he feels himself tighten against his pants.

panting, your eyes slowly opened to see his pupils dilated and focused, yet filled with want and love.

the room is quiet for a moment, tension evident between you. he plants a kiss on your lips and says, “want to fuck you,” his eyes flicker between you and your chest, “please?”

you nod eagerly, scooting yourself up as he readies himself into you. lips connect again as he slides into you, your walls clenching him as he groans.

he fills you up, inch by inch, a quiet whimper falling from your lips when he bottoms out. you let out a synchronized breath as you grip into his strong arms.

no one’s ever made him feel good the way that you have; it hits him that he’s yours.

forever.

he moans at the thought, as he thrusts into you harder, earning whimpers and pleads from you to keep going.

“mine,” he groans, “all for me,”

“all yours honey, fuck,” you breathe.

“shit y/n,” he grinds himself harder into you as you come undone, panting and breathing out his name. he groans at the obscene sounds as he continues to grind himself harder into you, body spazzing as he paints your walls white.

you lay there, sticky and content, a smile stuck on both of your faces as you listen to to light tapping of the rain.

“i love you,” you say, slightly out of breath.

“i love you more, darlin’.”

george shuts his eyes, feeling safe and in his happy place: with you.

[greyauras]

This is like 600 words.

Everyone headcanons Ghost and Soap's living conditions like Ghost is a frequent visitor of r/malelivingspace and Soap has like a slightly cozy, filled just enough with furniture type of place. I think that's cute and hilarious, but I'm just thinking about the opposite.

That Ghost actually has this REALLY nice place somewhere near the base that Price *legally* finances for him but pays out of pocket for. King sized bed, some cacti, has an elderly neighbor that waters them for him if he's gone for too long and everything. I'm pretty sure Ghost was canonically a butcher (I hc him that way anyway) so he probably can make a good steak, and eventually learned how to cook for himself and it's become a hobby. He grew up without, so now that he has the money and the luxury to have a quiet space of his own, he takes full advantage of it.

I believe he likes stability, and while the base is where he feels the most like himself, the bustle of it all irritates him. Sometimes it's nice to drink your weird ass flavored tea with your pink cacti. Best date you'll ever have if you squint past the red flags Tom Cardy style.

And Soap? Pretty big, concrete, studio loft. Completely empty save necessary appliances and the fullest place being his art space with easels and canvases in front of the large windows, a cot with boxes of his shit next to it. And a bean bag chair begging for life. The only thing he knows how to cook is ramen and MRE tuna packets. He tries family recipes, but fucks it up so badly he hopes his nan doesn't see it beyond the grave. Growing up, he took care of himself while his parents worked constantly and could have been away for days at the time. It's easier to take care of yourself when your only obligations are feeding yourself, doing homework, and going to bed before midnight. Being an adult has similar rules but for some reason it's much worse.

Being in the military, it's an automatic rule to take care of yourself (physically). You stink, you'll get a bath one way or another. He doesn't buy anything because why need a bed if you'll only sleep on it for a month or so? Why a couch and TV when paying for a streaming service would be a waste? (Laptop disc player kind of guy, got a box of classic movies too, “THIS IS SPARTA!”) Really shouldn't even invest in a flat, he doesn't really celebrate holidays with his family anymore since they're the vacation on Christmas type. The only time he's there is when injured, forced or both.

But since Simon moves to Scotland and brings all his stuff with him, the big place gets filled a lot quicker. John gets some shelf racks and finally unpacks his boxes. I would say and maybe vice versa since Soap doesn't have a lot of stuff, but Price is glad to get that freeloader’s lease off his name.

Extra: They're all hanging out in the base’s living area.

Gaz: Does anybody need a couch? My sister's selling one, might even give it away if I ask.

Soap perks up from his spot on the floor: I do! I've been sleeping on the floor for 3 years!

Ghost: Johnny, I thought you said you had a cot?

Soap: I did. The legs broke, now it's just a framed mat.

Gaz: Bruv, what the fuck.

Soap: Does it have a stench?

Gaz: No?

Soap: I'll take it.

[the1975attheirverybest]

Education

Lesson #6: Mistakes happen

A/N: This was meant to go out earlier. sorry. ONLY TWO MORE TO GO.

Warnings: kinky smut

-----

Amelia felt her breath hitch in her chest at the sight of him. Across the room, she spotted Matty walking into the party space  of the hotel, in his signature leather jacket, his curls slicked back, a faint smile dancing on his lips as he spotted someone — a sound engineer from the studio, probably— and went over to say hello. He leaned forward to give his friend a hug, the chain around his neck sparkling, like a shooting star, underneath the warm glow of the party lights. She thought back to the last time that she’d seen him, the memory of him, naked, on top of her, rushed back to her mind like a current, making her knees wobble. He wasn’t wearing any necklaces then. She would’ve felt the cool metal against her bare skin if he’d worn one. Must be a new addition. The US always did bring out his edgy side. 

Her eyes couldn’t bring themselves to look away from him. He looked good. And she’d missed him. Her hand reflexively raised to adjust the sleeve of her dress. There was nothing wrong with it. 

“Don’t do it, love.” A voice whispered into her ear. 

Amelia jumped, startled at the intrusion. She turned around to see Charli giving her an admonishing look. “Remember what we talked about? C’mon, you need a drink.”

Before Amelia could protest, charli had grabbed her wrist, pulling her along. 

She thought back to the conversation that Charli was referring to, her heart sinking immediately. 

She’d spent the first two days following the release of those pictures of Matty and his model pal, pathetically sobbing in various corners around her apartment. Nights were especially difficult. Time seemed to slow down when everyone else would go to sleep and she was left to her own devices. Without people to distract herself with or errands to keep her schedule busy, her mind would inevitably find its way back to Matty. She would indulge her emotional masochism, scrolling through her phone for photos she’d taken of him throughout the years. It hurt to look at him. Up until now, he’d been a grounding presence in her life. It was impossible not to feel good around him. He was kind, and gentle, and one of the funniest people she knew. His boyish laugh always made her feel warm on the inside. Despite everything that he’d been through over the years, and even with his life growing increasingly public, his privacy shrinking little by little, he’d somehow managed to remain the same sweet and innocent young boy that she’s always known him to be. It was awe-inspiring to witness. He’d put on a front— flippant, sardonic, larger than life, keenly aware of each and every person watching him— moving from dispensing cutting critiques of culture to making dick jokes, giggling at himself and making references that felt like inside jokes between him and every single fan in the room. No one could see that and deny the maturity, resilience, and self-control that it took to make it all feel so effortless. And yet, in perfectly ordinary moments, sitting across the kitchen table from him, jet lagged and sharing a packet of stale cookies that he’d found in his carry-on, she’d look into his red-rimmed, sleep-deprived eyes, and he would smile at her— and just like that, the myth would melt away and he’d be the same idealistic young kid who gets moved to tears by great music, or the stories of fans discovering the band for the first time, or if he thought for a bit too long about the series of contingent events that had to happen in order to bring him and his three band mates together nearly two decades ago for his whole life to turn into what has now become. 

  she could no longer see any of that when she scrolled through the photos. The face that stared back at her was that of a complete stranger. She felt like she no longer knew him. She’d concocted this intimacy, this history, this idea of him. It was merely the fact that his soft way of being in world tended to make everyone around him feel special. It wasn’t difficult for him to forge connections with people, even fans who’d met him for two minutes, on the streets, and asked for a quick photo, could attest to this. Matty always addressed everyone like he knew them. Like they knew him. She was no different than complete strangers across the world, scrolling through their own phones, taking in whatever aspects of his life had been made public, and piecing together an idea of him in in their minds.

The realization that she had no idea what was going on inside his mind all this time did nothing to free her from his hold. It was easy enough to tell herself that he’s just a guy: deeply flawed, perpetually horny, and riding the waves of his new infamy straight into the beds of various beautiful, rich, and sexually experienced young women just for the hell of it, whenever he wasn’t around. Whenever he’d take too long to call, or text back, she'd remind herself of all the things that she found infuriating about him, all the flaws that proved him to be emotionally immature and impulsive. She'd reduce him to the worst version of himself and remind herself that she wasn't unique in that regard. If she wanted to be with an emotionally stunted man child who passed the time by sliding into the dis of women a decade younger than him, she'd go on any dating app and have her pick.Finding an equally attractive man to replace him with while he was busy gallivanting around the world wouldn't be hard, but deep down, she knew that this abstract idea of the man-child-rockstar that she could pin all her grievances on and flick away like a fly in order to regain her self-control was unfair. It wouldn’t hold up to the reality of him when, sooner or later, she found herself in the same room with him again. Matty's undeniable. And that broke her. 

On the third day of carrying on her routine of crying around the apartment and marinating in self pity, her scrolling through old photos was interrupted by a text notification. 

Charli: George says you’re mad at him. I’m sorry he can be such a guy sometimes. We should hang out. Just us girls. 

She’s still fuzzy on the details, but the text eventually led her to George’s place. Charli pouring the wine and sampling through the variety of chocolate boxes she’d picked up on her recent trip to Europe. George hovered between them, occasionally attempting to interject, but always shot down by Charli’s reminder that “no one’s asking you.”

“I’m a fool. Just say it. I’ve been foolish.” Amelia admitted as she handed her glass over to Charli for a refill. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, babes- oh, this bottles officially deceased- hold on, let me get a new one.” Charli scoffed and stood up, walking around the kitchen to try and remember where she’d hidden a particularly good bottle that she didn’t want George to ‘waste' on the wrong occasion. Boy troubles, especially Matty troubles, seemed the right occasion. “Look, I love Matty, I do. He’s a sweetheart. One of the most talented musicians I've ever met... But he’s a mess!” She’d located the bottle, stifling a laugh as George realized that she’d hidden it out of his reach. “You need someone who’s - mature. Who knows what he wants.”

“Matty’s mature!” Amelia yelled out, snatching the bottle out of Charli’s hand and popping it open. “It may not seem like it sometimes, but he’s the fuckin best.” She poured herself a drink with a dramatic sigh, the conflict draining her. 

“You’re not actually meant to drink that right away, you're supposed to wai- okay you’re just gonna- alright you seem like you need it, so, just… my point is, he’s not ready, yet. He’s in a new girls bed every week!”

“I love him.” Amelia simply stated, the confession came as a surprise to her. but it was true. She could sit here and debate what kind of person Matty was, or what qualities of his would make him a good or bad partner, but it really only came down to one thing: she was in love with him.

Her words hung in the air, feeling even more loaded by the silence that followed. 

“Uh-umm…” George cleared his throat awkwardly. “Have- have you- I mean...does he know that?”

Amelia shrugged. 

“Amelia, darling, I hate to say this, but" Charli gave her a look that Amelia recognized as pity, "babe, you don’t know him well enough to love him.” 

“The fuck I don’t!” Amelia yelled out into the room, slapping the kitchen table assertively. 

Charli giggled, “I like drunk Amelia.”

“I know Matty. I’ve known him my whole life. I mean, he rolled me my first joint and taught me how to smoke it.” Amelia’s reminiscent gaze looked past Charli, into the distance. 

“You needed to be taught how to do it? That’s kind of sweet, actually.”

“Then the boys made a whole thing of it. Like how innocent I was, or whatever. So, I overdid it a little. To prove a point. Anyway, I...got hungry and lost in a grocery store.”

Charli laughed.

“And by lost I just mean I was so high I couldn’t  find the cash register. Matty came and got me.”

“Aww-“

"he might have been laughing all the way through, and he definitely filmed the whole thing on his phone and sent it to all of Dirty Hit, but still. He came to help me…he also still has the video. Blackmails me with it from time to time.” 

“Sounds about right.”

“I know him. I do." She repeated firmly, "I know that he works hard to remain aware and grateful for the life that his work has given him. I know that he cares so much about people. Even people that he doesn’t know. I know- I know how stubborn he was back when he first started dabbling with drugs- I mean, he never said anything cuz he hid it for quite a while- but- I know him well enough to know that he must’ve been scared. He's not as rough as his exterior sometimes suggests. I know it must've been difficult. But he’s Matty, so of course, he rationalized it to himself. And I know that he’s proud of the band now- how much they’ve grown. I was there, I watched him pick up the pieces of his own life after every set back or break up or relapse, or whatever. I saw all that. I know the great things that he’s capable of.”

Charli sighed. Considering her words carefully, she looked more seriously into Amelia’s eyes, her hand sliding across the table to hold Amelia’s, “I know. But what I’m trying to say is that you’ve always liked him. And because of that, you’ve always kinda- like- seen him through rose-tinted lenses. The way he’s behaving right now? That’s not someone who is ready, or even looking, for a relationship. He’s treating you and the women that he rotates through as if you’re all the same. He doesn’t know how to be alone. If he has a day off, he reaches for a distraction. If he has an inkling of a desire, he’s looking for the fastest possible way to fulfill it. Diving head first into something like this could affect your friendship.”

Amelia was silent for a moment, letting Charli’s words wash over her. In theory, everything that Charli said was true. But the reality was much more complicated than that. Matty wasn't blind to his own shortcomings. For fucks sakes, he makes his shows about them. But it’s one thing to know your blind spots exist, another thing entirely to try and fix them. She understood that writing the show, making the album, all of that was Matty’s way of trying to fix things. Looking for answers. Yet, he continues to indulge himself in the meantime. How was he supposed to find anything new if he’s too busy going through the same cycles?

“What about you, George?” Amelia turned around. “What do you think of all this?” She gave him a nervous smile. 

George took a deep breath. “Oh, me? I think….I think you’re both right-“

"Oh, don’t be a coward George-“

“No, no, listen. I think you’re both right. I think it’s possible for Matty to be both things at the same time. And I think talking about him can only get you so far. Talking to him, on the other hand, might help.”

Amelia knew he was right. "mhm."

***

“New dress?” Matty whispered as he tapped her shoulder, seamlessly sliding into the small group of people that she’d been in conversation with. Amelia turned instantly to look at him, his smile making her face tingle. 

“No- umm- it’s not new.” She scanned the room for Charli, she wasn’t strong enough to do this on her own. 

“Well, I like it. Suits you.” Matty’s hand trailed down her arm as he spoke, pausing at her wrist, and lightly brushing her skin. 

“You- uh- you’re back. Howww- was LA?”

“Oh, you know- Sunny, warm, too cheerful- wanna go sit down somewhere?” His fingers intertwined with hers, he squeezed her hand in his. “Looks like your drink could use a refill, we could-“

“N-no!” She spoke too quickly, feeling guilty when he looked disappointed. “I- just mean we’re with people. It’s rude.”

Matty shook his head, laughing softly. “ who cares. Let’s go.”

***

“You ever done it in a bathroom?” Matty asked, an eyebrow raised, as soon as they were no longer within earshot of other people. 

“What?”

“Hey, I’ve been gone a while. We’re overdue for a new lesson.” He giggled. “Have you ever fucked someone in a public bathroom?”

“No, of course not. Sounds unsanitary.”

“Look around you, darlin,’ this hotel’s obscenely expensive. It’s a label event not a college stoners house party. We could eat off the floors of the bathrooms here.” As he spoke, Matty looked around the room for signs or directions to the restroom area. 

“Don’t musicians do cocaine in bathrooms?”

“And they fuck, too.” He nodded. She felt his arm around her waist, pulling her along as he sped up, no doubt, spotting the right hallway. 

The door slammed shut behind them. Matty waisted no time in pressing her up against it, his lips quickly attached to her neck. With one hand holding her waist, his other roamed along the door frame to find the lock, snapping it closed to insure their privacy. 

“Shit- I’ve missed you- missed this.” She let out, unselfconsciously, making him moan in agreement. 

Matty’s head gradually dipped lower and lower, moving from her neck, to her collarbone, to the top of her chest, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses along her skin. 

Amelia hadn’t realized how long it’d been, or how much she'd needed him, until she felt his touch again. Light as a feather, but always precise, intentional. Like he knew what reaction he wanted out of her and he knew exactly how to get it. His instincts always seemed in tune with her body. He noticed things. Little details that happen in the blink of an eye, like the difference in her moan when his lips touch just the right spot between her ear and neck. Like the way that her entire body comes alive when he’s making her feel good, touching her just above the hood of her clit. Like the rhythm she likes, not quite gentle, but not too harsh. Enough to leave a tingling feeling behind. She liked feeling the place where his fingers had been in the aftermath, liked feeling sore and knowing that his hands had done that to her. And he knew that she did. 

At this rate, it wouldn’t be too long before she’d be ready to melt into a puddle at his feet. 

She flinched when she felt his hand leave her hip bone and dip lower, hiking up the skirt of her dress. His eyes snapped open, his lips, reluctantly leaving her skin for a moment. “You- uh, you alright with all this?” He was panting, breathless.

“Mhm, please don’t stop now.” She whispered, hotly, her breath against his skin sent a rush through his body. 

Matty grinned, her reply egging him on. “‘Please’ ? We’re already begging, are we? At least you’re remembering what I’ve taught you.” 

She pressed her lips together, silencing a yelp as the pads of his fingers circled her clothed center. “Oh my god, Matty-“ her words interrupted with an involuntary moan. 

“Relax for me.” He whispered. “Close your eyes, breathe, yes, that’s it.” He placed a chaste kiss to her cheek. “Let me take care of the rest, you just- focus on feeling good.”

His fingers against the fabric of her underwear were steadily building friction, the pressure in her core rising. 

“It’s been a minute." he mumbled, seemingly thinking out loud. "what if I’m off rhythm? What if your body  doesn’t quite feel pliable anymore?”

She whined in response, her hips thrusting forward to meet his hand. 

“Oh, is that so?” The smile palpable in his voice, everything about the motions of his fingers told her that he hasn’t forgotten a thing. “You’ll just take anything, then? Any touch at all?” He moved the crotch of her underwear to the side, finally exposing her bare skin. She felt him slide his finger along her slit, blushing when he'd sensed her wetness. 

“Hmm, it’s almost like I was never gone.” He grinned, reveling in his effect on her body. 

His now wet finger found the spot just above her clit, exactly where she likes it. 

“oh my FUCK!” She gasped, biting her lower lip. 

“Hey, hey,hey..what’d I tell ya? Breathe, darling, you’re holding your breath in, breathe for me. Don’t want you to cramp up.”

She found it dizzying how effortlessly he went from taunting her to cooing, gently, guiding her through the intensity of the moment. Her head was spinning, foggy and flooded with him. 

“Ma- oh god, that feels so-“ she felt herself sinking and surrendered to the overwhelming sensation, resting her head back against the door, her eyes closed, lips apart and mumbling incoherently. 

“So wet for me,” Matty whispered, “god, I can’t not fuck you like this. It’d be wrong not to.” He slipped a finger inside of her, slowly and firmly. 

She screamed, a flood of pleasure hitting her, head to toes, she buckled at the knees, no longer able to control her body, but Matty’s free hand quickly pinned her in place, stopping her from falling to the floor. 

“S-sorry, I-“ she stuttered, her shaking hands grabbing onto his biceps to steady herself. 

Her eyes fixed on his lips, she could hardly see anything else. Not that she wanted to. His lips looked perfect, pink, wet, she desperately wanted to kiss them but she barely had the strength or presence of mind to command her body. It was completely under Matty’s influence now. 

“I have a better idea.” Matty whispered, pulling away. she was too caught up to hear a word he'd said, only knowing that the heavenly sensation he’d given her had suddenly disappeared. She cried out, letting herself be moved around by him. 

“Okay, I need you to bend over now. Against the sink, okay?”

Her body moved as Matty directed, like clay in his hands, but deep in the back of her mind, she realized this position put him behind her. She was no longer able to see his face. They’d never done it this way before. She wasn’t sure how to feel. 

“Good, good, now move your legs apart just a bit more. Perfect. Hold tight, alright?”

She understood why he wanted her bent over like this as soon as he slipped his finger back inside her, suddenly reaching the perfect spot, an electric current jolted through her body. 

“Ohhh, yes, yes, yeah right there- fuck- iiii-“

“How’s that, my love?” It was the finger curling inside her and the other rubbing her clit that sent waves of pleasure crashing over her body, but it was his words, his cooing ‘my love’ to her that completely overtook her brain. For the first time in her life, she felt her mind come to a complete stop. Not a single thought, worry, or concern. She wasn’t even processing the sensory feeling of the world around her. She couldn’t think of a single sound, touch, sight, or smell. All that was there was white, hot pleasure. Her body convulsed, matty spoke (but she couldn’t tell what he’d said), and she felt herself scream out his name as her body shook between him and the sink. She was vaguely aware of the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, and the feeling of Matty’s hand pulling tightly at her hair.

“I didn’t say you could stop. Cum again.” He demanded. She wasn’t sure that she could stop even if she wanted to. He’d gotten a hold of that sweet, soft spot deep within her, her body trembled again as a second orgasm hit her, Matty’s grip on her hair grew tighter. Blood gushed into her mouth. 

Over the sound of her own panting, and the ringing in her ears, she heard Matty suck on his own finger, pulling it out of his mouth with a wet pop. “You taste amazing.” He placed a gentle hand on her hip when she attempted to stand back up. 

Her brain still felt scrambled, she couldn’t form any coherent thoughts or sentences. She turned around, her hand on Matty’s shoulder for support. 

“You wanna sit down for a moment?”

She wasn’t listening, her hands, still shaky, were fumbling with the buckles of his belt. 

“Amelia, hey, no, wait.” 

“Uh-umm” she started at him blankly, her mind looking for the right words. “You don’t want me to- to umm…” 

“Not here. Not now. don't want to hurt your knees, plus, I think you should slow down anyway.”

Her face fell, her grip on his belt loosened as she did her best to focus her hazy brain on his voice and take in his words. 

“I’m fine.” She whispered, her hands finally letting go of him. 

“Let me clean you up before we get back out there.”

***

Amelia's foggy brain raced with silent fear. she'd never felt so disoriented before. She felt everything intensely. the lights felt blinding, the air grazing her skin, the sound of the music filling her head. Her every sense was heightened, triggering an unexplainable sense of anxiety, as she walked by Matty's side, the inches off space between them felt like miles. He felt so far away, she had this inexplicable need to be with him, near him, even though she already was. why won't he hold her hand? is he not feeling the same way? does he not want to be near her as much as she does? Was their interaction over now that he'd finger-fucked her in a hotel bathroom? Was she supposed to take the hint and go her own way?

She saw Matty smile as a man, from the other end of the hallway, headed towards them. He seemed to recognize Matty and Matty recognized him. She watched them exchange greetings and begin a conversation that she was too overcome with anxiety to follow. She felt a burning in her chest; a raging jealousy. She did not want to split Matty's time and attention. This stranger had overstepped, intruded on what was supposed to be a private moment, between her and Matty. Tears welled in her eyes, and before she knew it, she'd grabbed onto Matty's arm, burying her face into his side.

"Amelia, you alright?"

To her surprise, though Matty was thrown off, he made no move to pull away. She heard him mumble, excuse himself, and walking away with his arm around her waist.

"Hey, look at me, he's gone, it's just us now. Look at me, Amelia, I need to see your face." He paused, pulling them both into a quiet corner, leaning against a wall. "Hey, what is it, Mia, talk, please."

She was too overwhelmed. Every time she tried, no thoughts came to her mind and no words left her lips. The longer that she remained silent, the more she could see fear in Matty's eyes.

"Sorry- umm, I don't know what came over me." she finally mustered. watching his face relax as he heard her voice. "Guess I've missed you more than I realize...god that was embarrassing." Matty smiled at her confession, making a quick-witted response, but in the back of his mind he wasn't sure if that was the full extent of her strange behavior.

"Let's get a room upstairs, hmm? What do you say?"

***

Amelia had clung to him through the elevator ride, running his hands down his body and kissing his neck. Matty's hands had held her waist steady, his head thrown back. "fuck- you're so good at that- maybe I should go away to LA more often."

He groaned, disappointed, when the elevator bell dinged, announcing their arrival at the right floor. Amelia giggled, unbuttoning his shirt, one button at a time, as Matty squinted, reading the room numbers on the walls to find theirs.

They were hardly all the way inside before Amelia returned to kissing on him: his neck, his chest, on hand playfully stroking his right nipple while her mouth kissed and bit on the other. Matty had no idea where this new-found initiative of hers was coming from, but it all felt too good to question.

"shiiittt- Mia, your tongue feels so-"

"tell me something," she whispered, kissing down his chest. "did you sleep with anyone while you were away?"

Matty was caught off guard by her question. he opened his eyes, watching as she looked up at him through her lashes. "what?"

"while you were gone" she said in between kisses, "did you have sex with anyone?"

His head flung back, again, Matty struggled to make sense of what was happening. the fact that the blood was rushing south in his body did not help either. "uhhh..." He swallowed harshly almost losing himself in the feeling of her touch, "y-yeah, was I- umm, not supposed to?"

"how do I know what you are or aren't supposed to do?"

Finally collecting himself, he pushed her body away from his. "what's happening right now?"

"I don't know. I was trying to kiss you and you stopped me." Amelia shrugged, a blank expression on her face.

"I guess- um- I had wondered if- you'd like to slow down, maybe? I could call down for room service. Get us some drinks? some dinner?"

Amelia stood on the tips of her toes, kissing his lips. "no drinks." she whispered. "no dinner." she unbuckled his belt.

***

"right. How's that?" Matty stepped away, admiring his handiwork.

Amelia was not amused by this turn of events. Somehow, she'd found herself bound, using the decorative ribbons that had been wrapped around the hotel towel set, and Matty's vivid imagination, her arms were now tied together, behind her back.

"We're gonna have to be really careful though. If your arms start to feel numb, you've got to let me know. Right away. Do you understand?"

Amelia nodded.

"alright, then." Matty resumed his place on the bed, sitting opposite her, with his back against the headboard, his lengths spread on either side of her. "go on, then, as you were." he gestured.

Amelia hesitated for a moment. Sucking him off with her arms tied behind her back wasn't going to be easy. She wouldn't have nearly as much control. But she desperately wanted to please him. To be a good girl for him. to make him feel good.

"Don't make me ask twice, Mia."

She bent down, her lips wrapping around his tip, slowly taking more and more of him.

"That's- it- fuckkk- good girl."

The praise was more than enough to spur her on. Soon enough, she was drawing the filthiest moans from his lips, holding her breath as long as possible, to get his hips to behind needle thrusting into her mouth. Her back had begun to feel sore, and she was running out of breath. When Matty thrusted his hips particularly harshly, he hit the back of her throat, causing her to gag for breath and pull away.

Matty watched her heave and gasp for breath, her own drool running down her chin, tears on her cheeks. His hand on the back of her head pulled her back onto him by the root of her hair. She hardly had a moment to squirm or cry out, before he bucked his hips to meet her mouth, shoving himself all the way into her. "Perrrr-fectt. Yes, shut up and take it like a good girl. thats it, keep going –fuckkkk."

with his hand over her head, adjusting her pace and position whenever he pleased, Matty was in bliss, and it wasn't long before she felt her mind slip back into that dizzying haze.

She felt tears roll down her face as Matty pulled her off of his cock and helped guide her onto his lap. As he helped her sink down onto him, she realized, somewhere in the back of her mind where thought were struggling for coherence, that she'd never ridden a guy before. In fact, she had no idea how to do it. But that's what all this is for, right? Matty showing her how to do things. Was she meant to bounce on her knees? move back and forth? There was no way this would be fun for him. And he's definitely experienced fun. Other girls had probably given him mind-blowing orgasms before. Better than he'd ever feel with her. She stared, blankly, at the top of her chest. Where she desperately wanted to lay her head; to wrap her arms around him and feel her chest against his. But she couldn't even touch him with her hands bound and behind her back. She couldn't adjust her position either, or control her movements, she felt isolated and far away from him. She was literally sitting on top of him but could barely feel his body against hers. this wasn't how it was supposed to be. none of this felt good for her, and she was sure it didn't feel good for him either. panic filling her chest, she began to lose her breath.

"r-re-red. Matty, please, red. I- I don't- I wanna stop. I said red that means it's over, it's stop. Please I want to stop,"

Matty's neck snapped forward with a loud and painful crack. "wait?" his eyes widened, " yes. Of course. We're stopping. Immediately." He put his hands up in the air where she could see them. "I- umm....Not touching you, okay? but-I would like to. If- if you'll let me? hmm? to-untie you. Nothing else, I promise. May I do that? please?"

He sprung into action as soon as she nodded, his shaky hands making it unnecessarily difficult to undo her ties.

"How-how do your arms...i mean, are you okay?"

Amelia used her now freed limbs to roll herself off of him. When he offered her his hand to help steady her, she slapped it away, and jumped off the bed, hearing him hiss when she separated her body from his.

"Amelia wait- where are you going? Please let me-"

she slammed the bathroom door shut, startling Matty enough to rock the bed.

What, the fuck, had just happened?

[allylikethecat]

”you look adorable in my shirt” haha george’s shirt would consume matty this prompt is perfect for them

Hello Dear Anon! Thank you for sending in this prompt from the Fluff Prompt List I know this one hasn't been in my inbox as long as *some of them* have been, but I still apologize it has taken me so long to fill, this prompt, and all of the others! I'm a little out of practice with the prompts as well so I apologize that this one might be a little clunky - but I am very excited to get back into the swing of it! Hopefully more prompt fills will follow! Thank you again for sending this prompt my way and thank you for your patience. I hope you enjoy the result and thank you for the continued support! I hope you are having a wonderful week!

❤️Ally

WARNINGS: None

36. "You look adorable in my shirt."

George nearly swallowed his tongue when Matty finally burst into the rented studio space in a flurry of cold air, wild curls and red cheeks. He quickly tossed his jacket onto the chair in the corner, the Prada one that he had obsessed over before George had tossed his hands up into the air and stood up to find his wallet and credit card, ordering it for Matty himself purely so he didn’t have to hear about it anymore. It wasn’t the jacket that had given him pause. It was the tee shirt he wore underneath, the sleeves clearly too long and bunching around his skinny wrists, the hemline falling to mid thigh, reminding George of a mini dress or a sorority girl. 

Matty spun around and clapped his hands together, the collar of the tee shirt was stretched out, showing off a sliver of his collarbone even as he drowned in the excessive amount of fabric. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, as if he had been on time for anything, ever, in his entire life, “I wasn’t paying attention and missed the stop on the tube.” 

Only Matty would admit something so embarrassing, so freely, George thought hysterically, trying to reorder his thoughts so he could speak, so that he could tell Matty that it was fine, that it was expected at this point, really. What came out instead was: “You look adorable in my shirt.” 

Matty blinked, clearly not expecting that to be George’s greeting, but his confusion quickly morphed into a smirk, his lips, naturally more red than they had any right to be curled into a smirk. God, George thought, Matty was fucking pretty.

“Adorable?” he asked, fluttering his lashes at George teasingly, “you think I’m adorable?”  

George rolled his eyes, hating himself for giving Matty such ammunition, giving him another distraction to latch on to. Getting Matty to sit down and focus on the new album was like trying to herd cats. That’s why it was just the two of them meeting today, Ross and Adam had bowed out, telling George to call them when some actual progress was being made. 

“You know I think you’re adorable,” George said, begrudgingly, not able to deny it, because as much as he hated it, Matty was adorable, and he was extra adorable drowning in his tee shirt. 

He liked it when Matty wore his clothes, how it highlighted just how much bigger George was than him. Matty might have had the bigger personality, but George was larger in stature and the reminder of just how small, and how delicate Matty was in comparison always sent a shiver up his spine. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if Matty had done it on purpose, trying to distract him, before quickly banishing the thought. Matty had been so scattered lately it was a miracle he had shown up to the studio wearing proper clothing at all. He had left for the corner shop for a packet of cigarettes without shoes the day before, George chasing him down the drive in disbelief with a pair of slides in his hand. He had laughed, slipping on the sandals with flashing George the same boyish grin that he had fallen for all those years ago and ran his fingers through his curls. Chuckling that he’s just had a lot on his mind. 

“I still like hearing it,” Matty said, moving into George’s space, looking up at him, grinning, his eyes bright with mischief. 

“I guess I’ll keep telling you then,” said Geroge, leaning down to press their lips together, rucking up the tee shirt so he could slip his hand into the back pocket of Matty’s jeans pulling him closer. Matty hummed into the kiss and George found himself smiling against Matty’s lips. Matty really was fucking adorable, especially in his tee shirt. 

[welcomingdisaster]

??? sentence, yes sunday!!

catching up on my tag games! i was tagged by @searchingforserendipity25 and @thelordofgifs to share something from a wip!

here is me playing around in @polutrope's sandbox. i read their fic, Seen, which is excellent and very funny and deserving of a lot more comments than it has, and got the irresistible urge to play around in that setting (with their permission!). in the fic, maglor has made it to the modern day and is a music school teacher. here is... a whole scene. i have no self control.

It was six-forty-eight and already dark. Outside the wind howled and post-work traffic rumbled as great waves, interrupted occasionally by sudden cacophonies of car horns, dulled by the walls of the little studio into whale-song.  Pinel plucked at her harp, picking away at the last notes of Blue Wizard’s Return. Her eyes were tired and her wrist ached.  “You need to relax your hand,” Mr. Goldsmith said, “close your fingers and thumb into your palm between the notes. It’ll prevent a lot of carpal tunnel down the line.”  He held out his own hand to show her, though she knew. Her eyes caught instead on his fingerless gloves, fine black lace in the shape of pretty flowers and spiky leaves. His long pale fingers were scarred, raised and puckered red along the the fingertips, paper-rough white on the edges of his fingers. That was why he couldn’t play for long, he said.  That and how his hands shook.  “Yeah,” she said, shaking out her hand, “sorry.”  Mr. Goldsmith’s face softened, his faded grey eyes flicking back to her, losing their focus on the craft. He had a funny face, Mr. Goldsmith, all sharp angles, something kinda mean and kinda pretty to him at the same time, though oftentimes it went away when he smiled. Pinel always thought he looked a little bit elfin, though he said he wasn’t. He wouldn’t tell her how old he was, though. When they lived in Minas Tirith her old harp teacher was a college student and she thought he was older than that, though maybe just because didn’t have any zits.  “What are you sorry to me for?” he asked. “They’re your hands.”  She almost said sorry again, but didn’t.  Mr. Goldsmith glanced at his watch and the corner of his mouth twitched downwards, just a little. “Would you like to take it from the top again, kid?”  She didn’t really. “Mom’s gonna be here soon,” she said. Mom was supposed to be here eighteen minutes ago at six-thirty. “And I’m really tired.”  “You can hang out while I clean up, then,” Mr. Goldsmith said, standing, “would you like to sit in my spinny chair?”  She did. She sat in his spinny chair, which also had wheels that slid a little bit too much on the linoleum floors on the studio, and watched as he wiped down the blackboards and took out the trash and vacuumed the front rug. It was six fifty-seven by the time he was done, which meant it only took him nine minutes.  “In three months I’ll be ten and then I can ride the bus on my own,” she said, “to get home.”  Mr. Goldsmith turned on his coffeemaker, which lived on the back counter away from the instruments, and waved her off. “Hot chocolate?”  “Yes please.”  Mr. Goldsmith never turned on the overhead lights of the studio, and now even with the warm yellow lamps it looked dim. She watched him run the hot water through the coffeemaker and mix hot cocoa mix with a plastic straw. Then he popped in a pod of coffee for himself, shifting from foot to foot while it brewed, and dumped another packet of cocoa into that, too.  Then he gave her the cup to hold and sat down on his desk, legs crossed under him. Sheet music fell down on the linoleum floor.  “Mr. Goldsmith?” she asked, “how did you hurt your hands?”   “Oh,” Mr. Goldsmith said, smoothly and easily as though he had expected the question, “fell down in a vat of industrial chemicals. Horrible mess.”  That wasn't true. “Nuh-uh!”  “Uh-huh. They were green and glowed.”  Pinel mulled that over for a bit, trying her drink to see if it was too hot. Okay. “Who pushed you?”  Mr. Goldmith laughed. He had a very musical laugh, like those bells they hung outside of coffee shops for All King’s Day.  “My brother, I suppose,” he said, “if anyone did. He didn’t really mean to.”  For a little bit they sat and drank their drinks and watched the cars outside. Pinel was tired enough she didn’t really want to do anything else, and her cocoa was sweet.  “Were there really chemicals?” she asked.  But the bell on the door rang, and Mom was here. 

gonna tag @polutrope @eilinelsghost @outofangband @starvels @meadowlarkx @jouissants @mirkwood-hr-department @melestasflight & @grey-gazania & anyone else who wants to share something! no pressure either way

[startseeingstars]

Collision Path - Mike 5lbs of Pressure

CH01 - Maddi POV {Curiosity Killed the Moth - Mothica} 🎶

T/W - violence, sexual themes, alcohol, drugs

My reflection moved with me as I stared at myself in the mirror - examining every inch, from the tattoos that decorated my skin, to the way the lace lingerie clung to my body and my long red hair cascaded down my back in waves. I didn’t mind showing some skin - back in Vegas, it got you the most tips as a bartender. But this was different and I was feeling nervous about being so exposed, specifically in front of men.

I had reluctantly agreed to become a dancer at my friend Kelly's work - a gentlemen's club. She went by Piper here, though - just like I would go by Lilith. Kelly applied her lipstick and I caught her watching me carefully. She smiled reassuringly at me.

“You look stunning. Aren’t you used to being dressed like this? You do pole dancing for fun.” She chuckled and I nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Yeah, but that’s at a studio, surrounded by empowered women. It’s a safe space. I love the pole, I’m just anxious about the men.” I muttered as she stood up.

“Don’t be - this is a high end club. The guards and the bartenders are great guys. We get taken care of here.” She assured me and I nodded.

“Let’s do this.”

It was earlier than what we would usually arrive, according to Kelly. She had been booked by two gentlemen during a business trip layover - some regulars. Thankfully, she convinced them to book me out, too which meant I was getting a guaranteed amount for the next two hours. To my delight, the men that had booked us were quite lovely - albeit overly flirtatious, but that was to be expected. I stood up from one of their laps to fetch the drinks they had ordered, being sure to swish my hips as I walked away, heels clicking on the floor. The bartender smiled at me and handed me a tray with four drinks - one for each of us. As I headed back over, I saw a couple of guards leading two strangers in, over toward the owner’s table.

One caught my eye specifically - he wore a black leather trench coat and pants, but the eye-catching part was the black cowboy hat that he wore over his shoulder length brunette hair. I found myself smiling, somewhat amused but appreciative of his confidence. His eyes met mine briefly and he offered a small smile back.

Piper and I continued to giggle at the jokes made by our clients, but I kept finding my eyes wandering over to the owner’s table. I recalled Kelly mentioning his name was ER. He carried a sense of authority with him and I noted to make sure I stayed in his good graces.

Suddenly, the goth cowboy placed a huge bag of what I assumed was coke on the table. I watched the other man scold him and he took it back, placing it under the table this time as ER accepted it.

I was no stranger to drugs - I’d worked on the Vegas Strip, after all. I did steer clear from them though besides weed.

As I slyly watched the encounter, I noticed that the cowboy was not as confident as I’d thought he would be. He looked new to this - a bit out of his element and I found myself feeling a bit of pity for him.

His mentor was young but looked older than him, easily by less than 10 years though. He was attractive in a more conventional way, short dirty blonde hair, tidy facial hair and sharp features.

As the booking ended, we said goodbye to the clients and I was feeling positive about what the rest of the night held after such an easy start.

“I’m gonna have a smoke - want one?” I asked Kelly, but she shook her head, seeing another regular of hers come in.

“Come find me after, I’ll introduce you to this one.” She winked at me and I nodded, heading to the dressing room. I wrapped myself in my long coat and grabbed my packet of smokes and lighter. There was an exit in the hallway and I took it, grateful when it led to an alley outside. I found an old plastic milk crate and sat on it as I lit the cigarette.

Suddenly, I heard another door open, further down the alley. I didn’t pay any attention until I realised I could hear a man begging ER to give him a second chance - that he could pay him the money, he just needed more time. I peered out from behind the dumpster that blocked my view and saw ER holding a box cutter to the man’s face as two of the guards pinned him against the brick wall.

Cowboy and his mentor were there, too - watching it all go down.

“Pick an eye, or I’m going to take both.” ER threatened and I felt my heartbeat pick up as anxious fear made my stomach twist. The man continued to beg, before I watched him scream out in pain as ER did what he’d promised and slashed across one of his eyes. I winced, looking away as I held my breath. I knew I shouldn’t be watching this - but it was too late. They would notice me if I moved now.

As I turned back, I saw the man on the ground, withering in pain as ER continued to yell at him about the money owed.

My eyes met the cowboy’s again and he looked disgusted and uncomfortable, unlike his mentor. He shook his head slightly at me and I sat back, allowing the dumpster to conceal me once again as I fought back the urge to run. My heart was still pounding as I heard them all leave.

Welcome to New York, I guess.

[bizarrequazar]

GJ and ZZH Updates — January 14-20

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This is part of a weekly series collecting updates from and relating to Gong Jun and Zhang Zhehan.

This post is not wholly comprehensive and is intended as an overview, links provided lead to further details. Dates are in accordance with China Standard Time, the organization is chronological. My own biases on some things are reflected here. Anything I include that is not concretely known is indicated as such, and you’re welcome to do your own research and draw your own conclusions as you see fit. Please let me know if you have any questions, comments, concerns, or additions. :)

[Glossary of names and terms] [Masterlist of my posts about the situation with Zhang Zhehan]

01-14 → Possible hexagon ring sighting.

01-15 → Net-A-Porter posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ 361° posted a commercial featuring Gong Jun. (1129 kadian, 51129 with the date.)

→ GXG posted six photos ads featuring Gong Jun.

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a behind the scenes video of the GXG photoshoot. Caption: "Freeze and relax, feel the leisurely spring in advance. @ Gong Jun Simon enjoys every moment of the rhythm~"

→ Elle magazine posted a teaser of their photoshoot with Gong Jun that would be released the following day. Caption: "The New Year brings the 'dragon', and the new year brings the 'beauty'. The cover of the new issue is about to be revealed."

01-16 → Elle posted their photoshoot of Gong Jun. Caption: "The shooting location is in a building decorated in artistic style. The porch has been decorated early with the festive atmosphere of the New Year. The lawn in front of the door is still green and full of the vitality that is rare in winter. At 6 o'clock in the evening the night before, @ Gong Jun Simon was still working on set. After finishing work, he rushed to Shanghai. After getting up early, he had to rush to attend a New Year's Eve party after filming. He won’t have a holiday tomorrow for New Year’s Day, but will go back to the set and continue filming. Looking back further, last year at this time he was also preparing for a New Year's Eve performance and joined the group the next day. 'It's good not to have a holiday,' he said. There was a sense of urgency in his words, as well as a sense of eagerness to try. 'I just hope that every project will be filmed smoothly and new projects will start filming as soon as possible.' Why is he so serious about pursuing a career. 'I have to do it well this year and try to use my time as much as possible.'"

→ Gong Jun posted six photos from the Elle shoot. Caption: "In the first year of the new era, let's have fun together." He also posted nine to his Xiao Hong Shu, caption: "Send 30 million red packets 🧧🧧🧧 Be healthy, be happy, be rich" and nine to his Instagram, caption: "Spring festival is coming!!! 🏮🧧🐲!"

→ Elle posted a video of their photoshoot featuring Gong Jun. Caption: "This year @ Gong Jun Simon has launched a 'World Favourites' section, where he publishes travel p-logs from time to time. On the one hand, he wants to record the scenery he has seen, the food he has eaten, and the interesting things he has seen. On the other hand, he wants to share what he has seen and heard with everyone, so that they can see the world he has seen through his records. In these travel p-logs, the photos and layout are all his own ideas. Gong Jun is a person with a strong desire to share. He hopes to pass on the happiness in life to others so that everyone can feel this happiness together. Of course, this is also a process in which he magnifies the happiness he feels."

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a behind the scenes video of the Elle shoot. Caption: "Have a far-reaching inner rhyme and bring auspiciousness to the East. @ Gong Jun Simon is enjoying the fun of the New Year."

→ Gong Jun's studio posted fifteen photos from the Elle shoot. Caption: "The fiery national colours outline the oriental charm, and @ Gong Jun Simon writes the warmth of the New Year."

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a douyin of footage from the Elle photoshoot. Caption: "Gong Jun inherits the past and traces the present, and absorbs the meaning of Chinese style. @ Gong Jun Simon interprets the modern style of the New Year with a pioneering attitude."

→ PRSR posted a promotional video spoken by Gong Jun.

01-17 → Gong Jun posted a promotional video he did for Deeyeo.

→ Kinokuniya Tokyo responded to whalers' injuries about stocking the Zhang Sanjian photobook, saying that they have been unable to contact the suppliers. They later posted an update that they have no plans to pursue this further.

→ PRSR posted a video (flashing lights cw) of their photoshoot with Gong Jun.

→ Fresh posted a photo ad announcing that Gong Jun would be appearing in a livestream the following day.

01-18 (Candy shower!!! 🍬) → Gong Jun posted a screenshot of the song 南京恋爱通告 (Nanjing Love Announcement) by Galaxy Express to his Instagram. Caption: "Good morning!" Fan Observations: - For the significance of Nanjing, see [here]. - This is only the second time that Gong Jun has posted a song to his Instagram since 813, and the first time that he has done so with it being the only thing in the post. Prior to 813, he posted songs quite often. - The song lyrics include the line "Sunrise on top of the purple-gold mountain," reminiscent of the golden mountain photos Gong Jun posted on 2022-12-17 which many people believe showed Zhang Zhehan from behind.

→ Gong Jun appeared on a livestream for Fresh, hosted in Nanjing. [full recording] Fan Observations: - He wore a jacket with a gold hexagon pattern. - One activity involved drawing images associated with words. For Nanjing, he drew a heart. 🥺 - He mentioned the song he had posted earlier, saying that he had found it a while ago and had been wanting to share it.

→ Gong Jun's studio posted eight photos from the Fresh livestream. Caption: "The carved jade dragon glows with vitality, and the veil and gold layer create the beauty of the new year. @ Gong Jun Simon feels pure in the momentum of soaring. I wish everyone a happy Laba Festival and prosperity with the dragon in 2024!"

→ Gong Jun posted four selfies. Caption: "Today is Laba, so it's time to post selfies!" Fan Observation: The hoodie and pose that he's doing in them is very reminiscent of photos he posted on 10-31-2022, the anniversary of the One Night in Nanjing, which are in turn reminiscent of selfies Zhang Zhehan had once posted. [comparison]

→ PRSR posted a commercial featuring Gong Jun. The later also posted a photo ad.

→ Fresh posted five photos of Gong Jun from the livestream.

→ Yang Yang posted two photos of himself and Gong Jun from the livestream.

01-19 → Net-A-Porter posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ PRSR posted two behind the scenes videos [1] [2] (flashing lights cw for both) of their photoshoot with Gong Jun.

01-20 → The Instagram posted a video of "Zhang Zhehan".

Additional Reading: → N/A

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[fatfables]

Fat People Can Sing Too - The Final (Part Eight)

Will Ben's dream of becoming the biggest pop-star ever come true?

The morning of the final show arrived and Ben was weighed one final time. 24 stone and two pounds. He had gained over three stone in a week! He was now almost ten stone heavier than when David had first weighed him. He was so proud of himself. David and Brian congratulated him and told him that he was going to win, but that there was no room for complacency and that now was not the time to rest. “When you go on stage you need to look as bloated as possible. We gotta get that fabulous gut of yours looking like a hot air balloon. The housewives need to see that you’ve been on a binge directly before competing. That’s how we’ll increase the sympathy vote,” Brian explained with a grin.

David had fixed Ben’s pre-show routine for him. Directly after the weigh in he had three extra large pizzas for breakfast followed by three litres of funnel fed shake mix. At midday he ate a large lunch in his room of four extra large pizzas followed by three litres of funnel fed shake mix. His belly ached so wonderfully. He was then driven to the studio in a disabled access taxi and left to chill with snacks in the green room. He ate eight Mars bars, ten packets of Walkers crisps, a two litre tub of neapolitan ice cream, and all of his remaining pre-show nerves. His belly pushed further out than ever in front of him. He felt so good, he felt so big. He completed his rehearsal and was escorted to his dressing room. He had to wait an hour for the scouse ladies to arrive and dress him in his now patented ill-fitting blue jeans and plain white tee. While he waited David fed him three more extra large pizzas. Pizza was his favourite. He sucked in his massive ball of fat flesh as he tried and failed to do the new 46 inch jeans up. He squeezed the XXXL t-shirt over his fat head. It clung to his tits and upper arm fat. He pulled at it and stretched it out. It still barely covered his cavernously deep belly button. Inches and inches of round smooth belly fat stuck out for all the world to see. His stretch marks were a thick deep red that ran up the front of his heaving belly in line with his wispy hair. They also grew wildly up his love handles and around his muffin top. His jeans button was clearly open and it was decided that braces were required to keep them up and prevent another wardrobe malfunction. The braces were black and tight, stretched to their limit, and only serving to accentuate his massively round bloated stomach. He thought he looked perfect. Brian and David told him that he did. Twenty minutes before showtime David brought out the funnel. He placed it in Ben’s gaping gob and poured in four more litres of thick, heavy, creamy, gainer shake. He watched with delight as Ben’s belly grew visibly bigger under the strain. Ben sighed with delight as the delicious calories rushed into his already overpacked gut. He was so wonderfully fat. How could anyone not vote for him?

On stage he felt too big to move. He swung his fat hips from side to side causing his thick round love handles to jiggle and sway. He couldn’t dance. His belly heaved up and down as he took deep breaths in between lines. He sang deep from within his distended obese stomach. He belted out ‘I knew I Loved You’ by Savage Garden and his belly heaved in and out. It was so big, so round, and so swollen. The braces dug into his fat and accentuated his massive gut. He was by far the fattest of all the performers who had been on Fat People Can Sing Too and he was proud as punch when he received a standing ovation from the audience. The criticism from the judges though was scathing.

For the first time the four celebrity judges had been watching his performance. This was the first time that they had seen him. A forty year old Geordie lass who had had three top ten hits in the nineties told him that he didn’t have the required range to be a star and that his inability to dance was a huge problem. A fifty year old comedian of uncertain sexual orientation, that led to constant online rumours about impropriety, told him that he lacked star power. The sixty year old wife of a famous rocker told him that he seemed like a lovely guy but that he just didn’t have ‘it’. Worst of all was the attack that he received from the show's creator Steven Bowel. Bowel was a large chested man with transplanted black hair, a turtle neck sweater and a habit of handing out verbal lashings to contestants, “You can’t sing well enough. You look like a bloated gopher about to pop and you clearly have mental issues that are negatively affecting your health. You need help and are clearly not pop-star material.” The audience booed loudly. How dare Bowel attack their brave heroe? Ben felt deflated. His belly hung heavy and low as he trudged off the stage. The audience cheered passionately for him, but he didn’t notice as he stared at the floor, tears rolling from his eyes.

Brian and David were overjoyed. “That was fucking perfect! Fucking Steven just played straight into our fucking hands!” Brian hugged Ben’s mammoth belly and rested his head on top of it until David pushed him off. “You did so well!” David beamed. Ben wiped the tears from his eyes, he was confused. He protested that he had just received the harshest criticism of any contestant at any point on the show. Brian admonished him, “You’re so fucking stupid sometimes. I can’t believe you still don’t fucking get how this fucking works. It’s about the sympathy vote. Sympathy. S-Y-M-P-A-T-H-Y. Bowel fucking knows that. He knows what he’s doing. He wants you to win! He created that fucking reaction for you!

Ben complained that the judges were going to vote him into last place. “Oh for fucks sake!” Brian shouted, “They don’t have a fucking vote in the final. It’s all on a public vote now! Is your fat fucking head so full of cream cakes that you’ve even fucking forgotten that!”

Ben wasn’t convinced but the mention of cream cakes had made him hungry so he retreated to his dressing room to eat his nerves while he waited for the voting to take place. When he returned to the stage for the results show, along with the other contestants, he was four pounds heavier than he had been earlier thanks to the constant flow of fifty pastries that he had used to appease his emotions.

The results were read in reverse order with massively long gaps between them in order to build suspense. Four of the six finalists left the stage to warm applause and to Ben’s surprise he was in the final two. The other contestant was a chubby fifty six year old woman with a gammy leg and crooked teeth. Ben really was an idiot for doubting that the housewives would vote for her over him. He won comfortably by over 350,000 votes. As he was announced as the winner the house lights went down and a spotlight pointed directly at him. He cheered and raised his fat arms into the air causing his XXXXL white t-shirt to ride up over the top of his massively ballooned belly. Fifteen inches of perfectly spherical fat stuck proudly out over his busted trousers. His happy trail glistened with sweat as his underbelly lifted upwards towards the camera that was slowly zooming in. His stretch marks were proudly on view, his belly button invisibly buried deep into the layers of fat. The whole belly looked like a giant full blood moon brightly illuminated by the reflected rays of the sun. It was monstrously beautiful. The sexy glutton had won. At home a fifteen year old tried to hide the fact that he had creamed his pants from his Mum by holding a cushion over his crotch.

At the aftershow party Ben went wild, he drank twenty pints of lager, and ate enough to feed a school. He didn’t care about the press and paparazzi present and publicly glutted himself like never before. David expressed concern about this behaviour being all over the papers the next day but Brian oddly told him that, “It no longer fucking mattered. Let the fat cunt enjoy himself.” And enjoy himself he did. Ben snorted up cupcakes like they were cocaine. He pigged out on puddings as he digested donuts and drumsticks. He felt his belly continue to swell and swell and it made him feel so fucking hot! He was sexy and famous and fat as fuck! Life couldn’t be any better.

Ben had badly wanted David to fuck him that night but as the party died out he couldn’t find him anywhere. He drunkenly waddled back to his room by himself where he masturbated furiously till he soaked his monstrous moon belly in warm sticky cum.

The next morning David and Ben took a taxi together to the production offices. A meeting had been arranged between the winner, his representatives, and the production team in order to talk about the plan going forwards. Ben was still overjoyed and couldn’t believe that he was about to receive a recording contract. His picture was on the front of every paper. He was famous and so very happy.

Him and David talked all the way there; “Where did you go last night? I was really hoping that we could celebrate together?” David picked up on the insinuation. “I was tired and just needed to go home,” he lied. “Well, that’s a shame but I guess we’ll get plenty more chances.” Ben went to touch David’s hand but David pulled it away. Ben continued unphased, “I can’t wait for us to be together again.” “Look, Ben, I don’t want to upset you on your big day and I don’t want to ruin our friendship so can we please drop this?” Ben was shocked. “But, you said you loved me? Don’t you want to be the boyfriend of a pop star?” “I never said that. You did.” Ben felt his heavy arse sink deeper into his seat. “I thought that you wanted me? You even let me fuck you?” “Ben, please don’t make me say this. Not today. “Say what? Just fucking tell me.” “Oh God, Ben, I let you fuck me so that I didn’t have to look at you.” Ben started to cry. “What? You think I’m u-u-ugly?” he sniffled. “No, of course not. You’re just so… so erm fat. It’s disgusting. I couldn’t fuck that.” “What?” Ben sobbed loudly. “But, you’re the one who wanted me to get fat. You’re the one who made me this way!” “That was to win the show and it worked. I didn’t do it for any sexual thrills. I’m not a feeder. I’m not a pervert. That’s Brian.” “W-w-what d--do you mean by that?” “Getting you fat was Brian’s idea. It’s not my fault that you liked it so much that you've turned into a human whale. You and him are the one’s getting off on it.” “What? I don’t like Brian like that and he’s never shown any interest in me.” “That’s what you think. God, you’re so fucking gullible sometimes.” Ben fell silent for a few moments and then burst once more into tears. “Look, Ben. I never wanted to hurt you. You’re my best friend. I’m sorry, I just don’t want to be your lover. Please, can we drop this? Let’s focus on the positives. This is a great day for you. You’re in every paper and are about to get your first recording contract. This is everything you’ve ever wanted. Please focus on that. As a pop-star you will be able to get anyone you want. Fat or not.” “B-but I want you.” “Oh Ben!”

At the production offices Ben wiped the water from his eyes and calmed himself with treats from a vending machine. Him and David sat in silence while they waited to be called into the boardroom.

Steven Bowel, Brian, and three other executives were sitting at a large oval oak table. They warmly welcomed Ben and David who were shown a sofa to sit on. The sofa had been brought in that morning as Steven had not wanted to risk letting Ben sit on his antique mahogany chairs. It was probably a good idea. Ben had weighed himself that morning and had been pleased to discover that he was exactly twenty five stone.

Bowel started the meeting; “Firstly we would like to congratulate you on your well deserved win. You captured the imagination of the nation. Your story of adversity and the way that you have handled yourself in the face of such negative press has been nothing short of astonishing.” Brian chipped in, “You received the most votes in British TV talent contest history.” Ben smiled like a goon, but David had spotted the look on Brian’s face that told him that there was a but coming. Bowel continued, “Your popularity on the show has indeed been phenomenal considering your limited talent. You have been especially popular amongst the female 30 -45 unemployed demographic. The problem is this demographic doesn't buy records or pay for single downloads. As a company they are just not our target audience.”

Ben couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He looked pleadingly at Brian for help but received no support, “You see Ben…” his coach and rapist continued, “...we need young people to buy and stream your songs and they just won’t engage with an artist who is er… well so fucking fat.” Ben was utterly confused in his distress but David had worked it out. He knew what Ben would never know; the rapist was in line to receive a half a million pound bonus for coaching the winning act. He had no financial interest in aftershow sales.

Ben’s heart was sinking lower and lower into his bloated abdomen. He managed to mumble a complaint about the winner being guaranteed a contract. “That’s not quite right,” Bowel explained, “We have to supply a contract to a contestant and have decided that will be Danni Tyler.” Danni Tyler was a nineteen year old chubby cockney femboy with long blonde hair, a fat pear shaped ass, and blue eyes that teenage boys and girls would want to swim in. She had come in fourth place. “He’s much more marketable. Isn’t grossly obese, and her coming out video already has eight million views on YouTube.”

Ben was now weeping openly once more. “Please Ben, don’t be too despondent. You’ve had your moment in the limelight and you’re still entitled to your winners prize of £30,000 minus expenses incurred.” Bowel was interrupted by Brian who cruelly pointed out that, “You have though already blown a lot of that money. We need to deduct all of your accommodation, travel, and food costs. And as your such a gross fat fuck you’ve eaten your way through £18,765 worth of food. That belly has to be paid for.”

Steven Bowel stuck in the final knife, “It’s not just your ridiculous size Ben, you're also just not talented enough. Your voice is ok but it lacks range, distinctiveness, and breadth. I’m sure that you can have a career as a singer but just not at this level. Given the exposure that you’ve had from being on the show I’m sure that you could get a good job on a cruise ship.”

Ben spent the rest of the day crying alone in his hotel room. His last night in the hotel room, that tomorrow he would have to pay for, leaving him with only £3,852 to show for his victory. He would have to move back in with his parents. He bawled his eyes out for hours until the tears eventually ran out at around ten pm. Only then did he notice the hollow pain in his stomach. His depression had caused him to forget to eat. He ordered twelve tubs of Ben and Jerry’s on UberEats. He injected himself in his huge round love handle and began to feel better as he finished off the ninth tub and placed an order for seven more.

When he died alone in his childhood bedroom in Nottingham three years later, at thirty eight stone, the press and housewives were in agreement that morbid obesity was caused by a personal lack of self-control. His parents were relieved.

[ihaveaskeleton]

Thoughts on this method of representing text messages in prose?

Zeldan grinned mischievously at her phone as she sent him a sticker of a snowman preoccupied with a pile of snowballs.

| Zeldan | I know a hunter in the area. Sending them over.

Before Rafayel could complain, she switched chats to speak to her friend from the Hunters' Academy, Kitty Vanderberg.

| Zeldan | You're in Whitesand Bay, right?

| Zeldan | Head over to Mo Studio and tell the man working there that I sent you to lend a hand.

A sticker of an unimpressed crow appeared on Zeldan's screen: Boring.

| Vanderberg | Why should I?

| Zeldan | $$$

| Vanderberg | How much?

A Red Packet with 5,000 gold appeared on Vanderberg's screen.

| Zeldan | To start.

| Zeldan | Go forth and name your price once the deed is done.

| Vanderberg | Elumeirn.

In the words of their people, "Fall in a hole." Kitty accepted the Red Packet.

[globalworship]

Contextualizing the Giving of Red Envelopes at Lunar New Year

The giving of red envelopes, or hóngbāo, during Lunar New Year is a cultural tradition in China and some other parts of Asia. The envelopes are filled with money and symbolize good luck and well-wishes for the new year.

My friend Anne Soh is part of Arts Release ministry, and she rercently shared these two interesting insights:

During our Creative Studio time on Monday, we learnt one of the origin stories for red packets given out during Chinese New Year. *

The coins in the red packets were supposed to save the children from the 祟 (sui) monster/demon, hence 压岁钱 (yasuiqian which sounds like 压祟钱 meaning money to suppress the monster/demon).

*你已被赎 (niyibeishu) - You Have Been Ransomed*

We are saved not by the red packet but by the red blood of Jesus that flowed on the cross.

+++

Nowadays, the meaning behind the red packets has been lost. The focus has shifted instead to counting and comparing the amount of money within.

*你已被数 (niyibeishu) - You Have Been Counted*

Instead of counting money, we can rest in the knowledge that we are counted among the righteous who will stand before God's throne in heaven.

Therefore, we have reason to rejoice and celebrate not just the lunar new year but even more, the eternal hope we have in Him!

+++

English version:

+++

*Anne referred me to this online article which describes that story: https://www.nlb.gov.sg/main/article-detail?cmsuuid=10e64f3e-5cf2-4e78-8511-9fb9dd82e194