#((and being the next big thing in the movies! nicholas would hate it; i can defidently see him getting escorted out by security))

[stay-mon-army]

Lazy Morning- Nicholas

Warning(s): None

Word count: 908 words

Pairing: Nicholas x gn!reader

Mornings have always been your least favorite part of the day. You don’t want to actively get out of your nice, warm, comfortable bed to start your busy, difficult days. The only person you knew who hated mornings more is your boyfriend, Nicholas. Nicholas is the epitome of a morning monster.

You had heard K and EJ joke once about how Nicholas would snap simply from being touched too early in the morning. You couldn’t disagree with them. Other than you, Nicholas wanted to see no one and nothing in the mornings.

Today is no exception. Last night, you had stayed up watching a movie and then playing video games with Nicholas, curled up in his bed against each other, enjoying the others warmth and touch. Those were your favorite evenings. Just the two of you, close and personal, doing nothing and everything all at once.

However, you had stayed up much too late, and you had to get up to go out with the other &team boys for a day out on the town since they were having their last day of freedom before the chaos of their debut. You had set an alarm, knowing that you would hate it in the morning, but you also were looking forward to spending the day with the boys. You had grown close to all of them over the process of &audition, and you knew that the debut would mean you don’t get to see them as often for a while.

As your phone on the night stand beeps aggressively, you groan, and you hear Nicholas behind you mirror the sound. You reach your hand over to grab your phone, having to tug against Nicholas, who has his arms around your waist in a near death grip. The only thing Nicholas hates more than getting up himself in the mornings is letting you get out of bed first when you spend the night.

You manage to tug the edge of your phone so it drops into your hand, allowing you to turn off the blaring noise. You put your phone down onto the mattress and settle back into Nicholas’ arms for a moment, your eyes closed at the warmth from his body and the blanket cocooning you both from the chilly air outside.

You felt him nuzzle his face into your back and you can tell automatically that it’s going to be a difficult morning. He mumbles something into your back as you shift, and you chuckle. Yep, he’s not going to want to get up.

You turn onto your back, allowing Nicholas to shift so he has his head pressed into the crook between your shoulder and your neck. His arms are still squeezing your waist like he knows that you want to get up, but he doesn’t want to.

You reach up a hand to pass it through his messy hair, smoothing down the unruly strands as he hums into your neck, tickling you with the vibration. You break out into a grin, turning your head to press your lips against him forehead, kissing him.

“Please don’t make me get up.” He whispers into your shoulder, his arms tightening and his face pressing closer to you. His voice was raspy and soft from sleep, and you squeeze your eyes closed at the sweet sound. He truly was too adorable sometimes.

“You know I love staying in bed with you, but we promised the boys we’d go shopping with them today. It’s your last free day before debuting as the next big group; do you really want to spend it in bed instead of enjoying a little downtime with everyone?” You try to reason, your heart only half in it. Like you said earlier, you love hanging with the boys, but Nicholas really was like a warm teddy bear, complete with kisses, cuddles, and head pets.

“Yes. I do really want to spend it in bed with you rather than with the boys, doing mindlessly interesting things and making an absolute mess. They’re so loud and they’ll take all your attention away from me.” You could practically hear him pouting into your neck.

“Baby, I mean it, I promised the boys, so we have to spend a little time with them today. But I promise to you that I will find a reason to get us both curled up in this bed early so we can have plenty of time to just cuddle and enjoy each other’s company.” At this, Nicholas lifts his head, finally meeting your eyes. A smile pulls up the corners of his lips and his eyes shine with glee; somehow you know that Nicholas goaded you into making that promise - he wanted you to say exactly that, and he knew exactly what to do to make you say it.

You can’t even be mad as the smile that slides across his face inches in to slot against yours, giving you a gentle kiss. You close your eyes, taking in the feeling of his lips, the smell of the boy you love and the clean sheets around you, the distant sound of the boys beginning to wake and wander around the dorm. Finally, you pull away, smiling along with the boy wrapped around you.

“Can we sleep in tomorrow?” He asks, pouting at you with a pushed out bottom lip, batting his eyes at you playfully in a way you can’t turn down.

“Of course.”

[spicywhenspeaking]

Crush Crush Crush : Noah x Reader One Shot FLUFFFFFF

you're Folios sister and you have a crush on Noah and Noah keeps asking you about who you like with no idea its him.

writers block made me do it and no beta. we die like men.

also I apparently don't like writing anyone that's an only child lmao.

The first time It’s when I’m talking to my brother Nick. He’s the drummer in the band. “Oh don’t be such a baby!” Nick has not let this go, “Just tell him how you feel! It’s making you act weird around him and no one likes an awkward freak hanging around” he ruffles my hair for emphasis. “Oh I don’t know big bro they keep you around” I turn to push him lightly back in retaliation. “It’s just a stupid crush,” I tell him. “I’ll get over it and be on to the next one in no time flat” I finish as we exit the bus. “Ooooh, Y/N’s gotta crush? Who’s the lucky guy?” I cringe internally when I see the face that matches the questioning voice. It’s Noah. Of course, it is. I stumble slightly at the last step, he reaches to steady me and Nick laughs at the embarrassment that is my life unfolding in front of us. 

“Oh no one, it’s nothing…no one really, not a person around, my brother is just being stupid” I ramble on for far too long. “Folio you’re holding out on me.” He winks at me with a determined look in his eyes. “I’ll get this figured out, no doubt,” Noah says confidently. I try to subtly elbow my brother but he lets out a quiet “uf.”

“Nothing to figure out! I assure you, no crushes to be had. Not by me at least.” I say and try to sound as convincing as possible. Noah’s eyes meet mine and my insides are quaking as I fight away any reaction “Hmm so it’s not Nicholas?” He asks and I’m a flustered mess. “Rufulio? No way, he’s almost like another brother. Attractive yes, but no. And I already said! I don’t have a crush on anyone! God!” I huff and walk away, leaving the two guys to themselves. 

The second time Noah asks, it’s after a movie night, I’m cleaning up the kitchen and he sneaks up behind me. “It’s Jolly? Isn’t it?” I shriek in surprise at his sudden appearance and soapy foam sprays over us both. “Jesus Christ Noah! Don’t do that” I hold my hand to my heart and feel it beating rapidly. He laughs, lightly wiping some of the soap from his face. “Oops. Sorry….But it is Jolly, isn’t it? That’s who you have a crush on.” He asks again. “You two looked pretty cozy during the movie” he raises his eyebrows to add emphasis to his words only pointing out his already perfect face. Jerk… “No,” I respond. “I don’t have a crush on Jolly.” I roll my eyes.  “And since when is sitting next to someone on the couch “getting cozy.” We weren’t even touching!” I emphasize.

I wish Noah would just drop this little teasing game he’s decided to play. Of course, Nicky is no help. When I talk to him about it he just says “It would be over if you just told him how you felt.” Like it’s that easy. Sure, I’ll tell him how I feel and He’ll tell me he doesn’t see me like that. I’ll die of embarrassment and only see my brother at Christmas. Nick said I was being dumb and walked away back into his room. “Hey, I would get it” Noah starts again raising his hands in defense. “He’s tall, has that cool accent going on, major hottie.” I dry my hands off and huff an annoyed breath. “I don’t have a crush on Jolly,” I repeat to Noah. “I don’t have a crush on anyone.” Liar. Just tell him. He’s right there. Just tell him. Noah’s eyes are piercing into me “I thought we were friends Y/N, you know you can tell me stuff like that. Right?” Placing the kitchen towel back on the counter I think for a moment. “We are friends, Noah, yeah. But this whole crush thing is so middle school. If I did have one, it wouldn’t matter” I turn around and look out the back window into the backyard. “I would hate to risk telling someone and they don’t feel the same way, I would be so mortified.” From behind me, I hear a small “Ah, yeah. I get it.” He moves to get closer and puts his hand on my shoulder pulling me slightly to turn back around. “Any guy would be lucky to have you crushing on them y/n.” I blush and carefully maneuver myself out of his grasp running into the corner of the island. “Ow, Fuck” I yelp and Noah moves closer to check if I’m okay. “Um, thanks but-” I check my watch and notice the late hour. “You know I should really get going, it’s late.” I gather my belongings and Noah follows me to the door. “Thanks for coming to the movies tonight,” he says as I pass through the door. “Yeah, it was fun.” I responded, “Goodnight Noah.” I offer a small wave once I get to my car. 

“Goodnight Y/N. Text me when you get home safe, okay?” His smile is so sweet when he’s saying it. 

“Oh! Um okay!”

Y/N: home!

Noah: Glad to hear it :) goodnight! 

The third time it happens they’re just coming off stage from a show. Sweaty and breathless Noah approaches me when I’m talking casually with one of the backstage crew. He throws his arm around me and pulls me into his sweat-drenched side. “Eww Noah! Stop” I try to wiggle out of his grip. “Oh come on y/n it’s not that bad,” he says shaking his hair, releasing droplets of perspiration all around. “God y’all are gross!” I laugh and the rest of the guys approach, Nicky is yelling “GROUP HUG!” And suddenly I’m surrounded by 4 sweaty men and it’s not even hot because one of them is my brother. “NOOOO!!!! Get offff! You STINK!” I screech. Nicky just rubs his sweaty hair against my face and says “Come on Sis, this is why you’re on tour with us right?! Encompassed by sweaty men? Or is it just one man?” I turn beat red and manage to wiggle my way out of the pile and huff out in annoyance. “Shut up Nicky, god. Y’all are so annoying. I’ll see you back at the hotel.” I wipe the sweat my brother smeared on my cheek and walk away but I hear heavy footsteps following me.

“Hey, y/n wait up” Noah calls. I slow down and turn my head back “What Noah? I’d seriously like to go back to my room now and wash off y’all’s stink.” He catches up, laughing at my comment, and continues walking with me. “Why don’t you wait for us? It’ll be safer than walking alone.” One of the tech guys wheels a giant amp right in front of our path so we’re forced to stop. “I’m walking back with Bryan actually, we talked about getting bubble tea at that shop we saw on the way.” His smile fades slightly and his shoulders fall. “Oh. So you and Bryan.” Noah says softly. “Y’all are like..?” His open-ended question stuns me slightly “We’re like? What? Getting boba?” My face is scrunched in a confused face and I fiddle with the tote bag that’s digging into my shoulder. “I mean…you’re brother mentioned again about your crush and now you’re getting bubble tea with Bryan.” I don’t miss the way his voice adds a sour inflection when he mentions the boba and Bryan. “Bryan and I are getting boba. As friends.” I tell him. “And my brother should learn how to shut his mouth…I don’t have a crush on Bryan.” I get a text at the same time from Bryan telling me he’s ready at the back door when I’m good to go. “Why are you so concerned with who I have a crush on Noah?” I ask him, slightly irritated at his constant harassment on the subject. He tenses and his cheeks flush slightly deeper, already red from performing not even 20 minutes ago. “I just…have a curiosity is all. You never know how someone feels about you sometimes until you lay it all out there. But sometimes it’s hard ya know, lots of factors” he rambles out awkwardly. “Uh huh, factors. I’m gonna go, but I’ll talk to you later.” I wave and continue walking towards the backdoor where Bryan said he would be. 

We make our way out together passing the fans waiting outside the venue with ease and head to the tea shop. As were walking I mentioned to Bryan what Noah said but he just laughed. “Yeah, can’t imagine what factors he could be talking about,” he says, but based on his tone I get the sense he knows more than he’s letting on. “Yeah, okay. I just don’t understand why he’s so stuck on asking me about my crush” I vent as we walk back to the hotel with our teas. Bryan takes a long sip and says “Yeah, I don’t know y/n. Maybe, he’s just genuinely curious. Maybe he’s interested in who his competition is.” I choke on a tapioca pearl and cough “What? Competition? What do you mean by that? What competition?” I cough out again clearing out my throat. “Um, I mean that Noah would probably be curious who you are crushing on considering his massive crush on you” Bryan says and I freeze as we reach the front door of the hotel. “What?” I ask. “What do you mean?” -wait- did Bryan just say that Noah likes me? Bryan just laughs while walking through the sliding glass doors into the lobby and I run to catch up. “I’m sick of hearing him whine about you having a crush on somebody else, like your crush on him isn’t as equally noticeable to everyone but him.” Of course, my crush is obvious, god this is so embarrassing, “but Bryan-“ I start to say but notice I’m standing in the lobby by myself because Bryan already walked to the elevators to head up. Following after him I head into the elevator after him. “Wait, what do you mean about Noah having a crush on me?” The doors close and we head up together. 

The fourth time goes a little differently. It’s been a few hours since the concert and I texted Nick to ask what the boys were doing after the show and he only responded that “Noah was in his room if I wanted to stop being a baby and tell him how I feel.” I rolled my eyes but after my talk with Bryan, I felt better about laying it all on the table. Noah was as nervous to tell me about his feelings as I was. I showered, blow-dried my hair, put on makeup, and put on my black skater dress. Slipping on my black ballet flats I walk down the long hallway to Noah’s room. I follow the red and blue floral pattern on the rug until I reach his room. I softly knock on the door and hear shuffling from inside. “Just a second!” I hear Noah’s muffled voice and a quiet “fuck!” and smack into the wall. He swings the door open and breathes in when he sees me. “Oh, y/n! How’s it going? What brings you this way?” He rambles and looks me up and down, taking in the way my dress hugs my curves and my hair frames my face softly. “I just wanted to stop by before I headed out for the night,” I tell him casually. “The night?” he questions as his eyebrows knit together. “You’re going out?” I nod. “That’s the plan at least.” Noah takes a step out of his room and I can smell his fresh woody scent wafting out. “Like a date?” his voice is in a whisper and I hope this plan works. “I hope so,” I tell him and his mouth forms a frown. “Oh. You’re going on a date. Do I know the guy?” His dejected tone kills me but after all his teasing these last few weeks a little teasing in return is only fair. “Yeah, I’d say you know him pretty well.” I take a step even closer, my head an inch away from his chest and I look up at him through my lashes. “Why do you care Noah?” I ask in a sweet voice and his cheeks warm. “Um, I just worry about you going out with some stranger so late..you should probably just wait until tomorrow,” he tells me. “Oh, but I’m not going out with a stranger, I’ve known him a long time.” I move my hand up to rest on his chest and he freezes. “He’s been my friend for a while but I’ve always felt like there was something more." I pause before continuing. "I’ve always liked him as much more than a friend.” Noah’s hand covers mine on his chest and there’s a small smile forming on his face. “So I know this guy pretty well huh? Can you tell me his name?” He’s leaning down as he asks and our mouths are now just inches away. “Yes, I can tell you.” We move even closer. “But first, can you answer a question for me?” I ask and he laughs. “Of course,” he answers and moves his other hand to cup my cheek. “Who do you have a crush on?” He laughs again and leans his forehead against mine. “It’s always been you Y/N” and his lips finally meet mine in a tender kiss. “Now where are we going on this date?”

divider from here

thanks again for reading <3

ask’s are open for requests or anything really lmao :)

[moon-alight]

Hiii! Can I request a Nicholas fiction ? Him just loving your big boobs? Playing with them, sucking etc…

Something like you had a bad day and he saw you crying so he wanted to distract you? Maybe also sitting on his lap , him taking your hand and putting it on his hard? Telling you to not remove it.

only if you feel comfortable! you don’t have to if is too much.

Yeah, I hope this is what you wanted. Sorry it took longer, I was looking for inspiration...

MINORS GET OUT! THIS AIN'T THE PLACE FOR YOU!!

Perfect distraction - &Team Nicholas

Synopsis: You had a long and rough day resulting in all your emotions crashing down on you all at once, your boyfriend, Nicholas, knows just how to get your mind off of things.

Warnings: fluffy smut, afab reader, big boobs, boob sucking, nipple play, grinding, handjob (m receiving), thigh riding.

Word Count: 1007

Masterlist

You hated him. Your stupid biology teacher who always gives extra homework, who always gives you detention and who just genuinely seems to dislike you. You don't know what you ever did to make him so annoyed with you honestly.

You had done your homework for today's class, you prepared yourself on the subject so you could talk along and maybe even help some fellow classmates who were struggling and yet you still got detention and a terrible warning for talking during class, even though it was your friend talking, not you.

When you got home, you were more than worn out. Frustrated tears leaving your eyes and rolling down your cheeks. All you wanted was to forget, maybe switch schools but you knew that wasn't an option.

You settled for the couch, sitting down and trying your best to do the biology homework but every time you looked down at the letters, you got so annoyed and started crying again. Your teacher was slowly killing you and you're sure he knows it.

You were too absorbed in your frustrated angry tears that you didn't hear the front door to your place open. You ignored Nicholas desperate call of your name. He must've had a long day too. It's only when he hears your sobs that he finds you, curled up on the couch with papers all over the place.

"Baby?" He asks, walking closer to where you are sitting. He carefully places his hand on your shoulder, you look up at him and the sight makes his heart break. Your eyes red, tear stains on your cheeks and you looked so damn done with everything. One look at the papers and Nicholas knew what was wrong. "Biology?" You nod at his question.

"It just keeps getting worse." You reply, throwing the papers off the couch and wiping away your tears. Nicholas sits down next to you, pulling you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around you. For a moment everything is quiet, you both enjoy the feeling of being close to each other.

Now, Nicholas really wanted to comfort you, he had thought about watching a movie and cuddling you but the moment your chest brushed against his in the hug and he realized you aren't wearing a bra underneath your (his) shirt, he was gone.

His mind going places and he wondered even for a brief moment if it wouldn't be better to distract you from your worries instead of trying to calm you down. You realize his zoned-out gaze and decide to question.

"What are you thinking about, Nico?" You ask, playing with his hair innocently. Nicholas' gaze finds your face, your pretty face. Oh, the things he would do to you.

"Just thinking about distracting my pretty baby from her frustrations." You look at him, his eyes are a bit darker than they were when he walked inside and you see a glint of mischief in them.

"How were you planning on doing that?" You ask, already having a feeling of what he is planning. Nicholas doesn't answer, instead reaching up to press his lips against yours. The kiss is filled with passion and neediness. You whimper when you feel his big hands slide underneath the shirt you're wearing.

He hoists the fabric up and pulls it over your head, immediately returning to kiss your lips as he throws the shirt behind him. His hands find your breasts and start kneading and playing with them. You moan softly, your hands tangled messily in his raven black curls.

His mouth detaches from yours, instead lowering them to your neck and sucking purple marks on your skin. His finger grazes your sensitive nipple, you let out a moan of his name, stirring him on only more. You feel something press against your thigh, you don't have to look to know that your moans got him hard as stone.

His mouth wraps around your right nipple, sucking harshly and drawing a loud moan out of you. Your hips buck against him, sending shocks of pleasure through his body. He takes your hand with his and guides it down to his clothed buldge.

"Don't remove it," He whispers to you, his voice low. His hands move to your hips, readjusting you so you are straddling his thigh. "Go on, pretty, make yourself feel good and make a mess and my thigh." Nicholas' mouth returns to your other nipple, your hips slowly start moving, grazing your clothed pussy over the rough material of his jeans.

Soft moans leave your mouth, your hand pushing down a little on his buldge. The whimper leaving his mouth enough to make you do it again and again. Your hand grazes over his hard-on, while you never stop moving on his thigh. Nicholas throws his head back at the feeling, his hands playing with your boobs.

"Fuck, feels so good, angel." He groans out, reaching up to attach his lips to yours. You feel the coil in your stomach begin to form. You're not gonna last much longer, you're sure of it. You start moving a bit faster, speeding up your hand movement as well.

"Please." You beg, resting your forehead against your boyfriend's.

"Please what, baby?" Nicholas asks back, smirking at your fucked out state. He places one hand on your hip and the other stays on your boob.

"W-wanna cum."

"Nothing's stopping you." He flicks your nipple, while pushing you down harder on his thigh, the coil finally snapping and your orgasm washing over you in a wave of strong pleasure. Your hand squeezes his bulge harder, suddenly triggering his own orgasm as a moan leaves him.

You both breathe heavily, trying to come down from your high's. Nicholas is the first to start laughing, wrapping his arms around you once again and hugging you close to his chest.

"Got you pretty distracted, huh?" He asks, teasingly.

"Do you blame me?" You ask back, pulling away a little to look him in the eyes. "You are just the perfect distraction."

[theheadlessgroom]

https://beatingheart-bride.tumblr.com/post/657225007438708736/beatingheart-bride-theheadlessgroom

@beatingheart-bride

Once again, Randall wondered to himself: How does she do it? How did she make time simply slow to a crawl whenever she kissed him, make it feel like the world had stopped turning when he was here with her, lips pressed together in the most gentle and loving of kisses? He wasn’t sure if it was simply her or if there was something bewitching about the lipstick or perfume she wore (the taste and scent of which lingered after they’d pulled away), but it was like magic when they kissed, and he hoped that magic would never fade away.

“W-Wow...” he breathed once more when they parted, still in one another’s arms as he gazed at her with heavily-lidded eyes, eyes which glowed warmly with love and adoration as he sighed, “Y-You’re...you’re amazing.”

Dizzy with love, he gingerly reached a slender hand out to brush an errant lock of golden hair out of her face (having come loose during their more raucous dancing earlier), smiling ear to ear as he did. He knew it was still very, very early in their relationship, but even so, he felt like he was on Cloud 9 when she was near, and he never wished to come down from this proverbial high, which enticed him to kiss her cheek again, all aglow with love and joy.

[wheelsup]

the taming of the shrew | two

if i be waspish, best beware my sting

after some setbacks, penelope is willing to do anything to get you back on board. but has spencer already ruined things?

A/N: hello! im so sorry that this posting schedule is super inconsistent. the more i thought about this chapter, the less i liked the more technical aspects of it. but! i hope you enjoy to plot aspect of it nonetheless <3 thanks for reading!

category: fluff, slow burn series, spencer reid x fem!reader

wc: 4.4k

<- prev | next ->

Since that phone call with Penelope, she’d been over nearly every night for a week with plates of treats and onslaughts of apologies. Each time she came knocking, you told her there was no amount of persuasion that could change your mind. And yet the following night, she’d be there, a new type of pastry in hand and a new set of reasons why Spencer was worth the trouble.

First, she brought blueberry muffins and reasoned that deep below that prickly exterior, he really was everything she promised –– sweet and caring. But that must be deep, deep down. Like, The Lost City of Atlantis, deep down, because you didn’t expect it to surface any time soon. 

Then, she brought fudge brownies and explained that his behavior wasn’t personal –– he was getting snippy with everyone lately. And while you maintained that anybody would have a hard time getting along with Spencer, you were absolutely positive that it was now impossible for you. 

Quite frankly, it wasn’t just Spencer who was unwilling to play nice. You hated him. More than you’ve ever hated a stranger. 

You wished him a lifetime riddled with minor inconveniences that would drive him to the edge of insanity. You wanted him to miss all his trains by just a quarter of a minute; close enough so that he could see it leave the platform, knowing he almost made it on. You wanted him to constantly feel like he was about to sneeze. You wanted his socks to be perpetually wet, and if he should happen to put on a dry pair? You hoped he stepped in a puddle.

That was all you could think about as you laid out on your couch, munching on one of Penelope’s lemon bars while she paced around your apartment. She kept going on and on advertising Spencer to you. As annoying as it was, she was also saving you a ton on groceries that week. 

For the most part, you filtered her out. Not a single word that came out of her mouth was believable anymore, especially not when she was talking about Spencer. Despite what Penelope thought of him, you saw in him what she refused to accept. 

As her speech came to a close, she looked at you like she expected a response to dignify her prattling. 

“Give it a rest, Penelope. He’s a lost cause,” you laughed dryly. “He doesn’t need –– nor does he want –– anyone in his life.” At the very least, he definitely didn’t want you. 

“Yes, that’s the problem!” If you’d been listening to her, you would’ve heard her saying the same thing. “He doesn’t want to date!” 

Your head just about exploded when she said that. 

There had been countless, fruitless conversations about this, and all along she saw the gaping hole in her supposedly airtight plan?

“If he doesn’t want to DATE, then WHAT was the point of this?!” Your fingers pressed the bridge of your nose; you suddenly felt a headache coming on. Funny how it always happened around the time of day that Penelope came to visit.

Penelope stopped pacing. She stalked over to your couch, picked your legs up by your ankle, and moved them to make space for herself. You begrudgingly sat upright as she took her place beside you. 

“Because he’s not himself anymore. He’s not open like he used to be. Not to the people who care about him the most, and certainly not to the world.”  

Penelope toyed with the hem of her dress, distracting herself from her quivering lip before pressing on, “Spencer Reid has always wanted love. And it’s not right that he no longer believes he can have it.” 

You hadn’t seen Penelope look so desperate until now. It was concerning. Because what could make her look so hopeless? What could make Spencer so hopeless? 

“Penelope, I don’t know what’s wrong with your little friend, but… there’s a lot more bubbling inside him than you’re letting on.” 

She chewed up the insides of her cheeks, wincing to herself at your incredibly accurate claim. 

“You are hiding something, aren’t you?” You narrowed your eyes on her. You were no detective, or whatever exactly her team did, but she was just awful at concealing her thoughts.

“It’s not my story to tell,” she murmured. 

She could already feel herself about to give it away and doubled down her mental defenses against it. Focusing extra hard on keeping Spencer’s privacy intact. If only you knew her track record with secrets, you’d be proud of her for staying quiet this long.

“What isn’t your story?” 

“That his girlfriend died last year.” 

She spilled it before she even realized what she was saying. You’d just asked so nonchalantly that she forgot she was talking aloud. Penelope turned purple, terrified now that the whole truth was out there. 

You couldn’t even take satisfaction in the fact that your trick worked. You were just as mortified as Penelope, and if you weren’t already sitting down, you knew you’d need to. You assumed there was something deeper going on with him, you didn’t think it was a dead girlfriend. That was some Nicholas Sparks shit. 

“He pretends like he’s fine but I know he’s not. And if he found a way to move on, maybe he’d start feeling as okay as he claims to be,” she sniffled before snot could run from her nose, tears lining the rims of her eyes. “I know I should’ve given you the full picture, but I didn’t think you’d go for it if you knew…” 

You were too floored to process it all right away. This added a whole new layer of complicated to an already uneasy arrangement.

“Well, I know you’re right about one thing. I would’ve said no.” 

She gave you a set of pleading eyes, praying you’d see where she was coming from. 

“I know,” she whispered defeatedly. “But maybe... now that you know, you can understand why he acts out the way he does.”

“Penelope, I can’t just… make someone move on, or –– or get them to believe in love! Especially when it’s fake.”

How on Earth did she expect you to pull that off? Did that guy from A Walk to Remember move on when Mandy Moore died? You hadn’t seen the ending of the movie, but you assumed not. 

“I’m sorry, this is just… a lot bigger than the favor I thought it was ––”

“What if I could return it?” she cut in. The gears in her head started to turn, figuring ways to patch up the holes she made. 

“There’s nothing I need from you.” 

That couldn’t be true. Penelope looked around the room and it didn’t take her long to think of it.

“I can help you sell your art,” she tempted, gesturing to the scattered canvases. “You make all your income from this, right?” 

You didn’t want to give any fuel to her fire, but you nodded. “What if… what if you didn’t have to settle for local buyers? What if I told you that you could make way more money selling them to the whole world?”

You chortled at her idea. 

You were a local artist, through and through. Your art got put in local galleries and sold to local buyers. Nothing more, and that was fine with you. You realized it a long time ago that it was just a pipe dream to think you’d be more. 

“I’m serious! You could get a separate painting studio, and stop living in one? Huh?” She wrapped her hand around your shoulder, waving the other in the air, urging you to picture it with her. “Imagine this: a kitchen that’s separate from your living room. A bed, inside it’s own four walls, and more than twelve feet from where you cook your meals.”

Pushing aside her so blatantly insulting your apartment, if that were a possibility, you’d want nothing more. But it already sounded foolish and you hadn’t even heard how she planned to pull it off. 

“Penelope, I’m fine where I am. I make the money I need, and that’s... it’s fine.”

She gave you a pointed look. “You know, I can hack all search engine results to make sure you are what comes up first anytime someone enters the word ‘painting’, right?

An airy chuckle left your lips. Of course she could. You patted her thigh twice and stood up, prompting her to follow you to your door –– hopefully, so she can show herself to the other side of it. “Still no, Pen.” 

“Just take some time to think about it!” Her voice carried through the wood as you shut it on her.

*

There was this one bench in Kenilworth Park – the one that overlooks the crystal clear pond – that you’d always been able to rely on to fix any problem.

There was hidden magic in the bushes that sprawled out from the edges of the water, surrounded by spiky green blades of overgrown grass. A simplicity you loved in baby ducklings paddling into the tiny body of water, swimming close together so they don’t get lost in, what seems to them, a whole ocean. And clarity provided by the freshest air in the world, under the shade of the big oak trees on a late summer afternoon.

But at the present, none of that came close to being enough.

The artist’s block started off as a minor inconvenience, but without your permission, had stretched into weeks of steadily declining motivation. Each new idea felt even worse than the last, and you were acutely aware that there would come a point where you’d officially hit maximum capacity for how awful they could get.

Still, that didn’t seem to light a fire under you. You happily coexisted with the blank pages of your sketchbook. Staring down at them, laying open on your lap in their stark-white glory, you felt like you were playing a waiting game. If you stared long and hard enough, maybe they’d flinch. 

Unfortunately, you never got to find out who won, because your phone rang inside your pocket. As if the caller had interrupted an incredible genius at work (which couldn’t be farther from the truth), you hastily raised the phone to your ear, slamming your sketchbook shut.

“Hello?” Your voice wasn’t as kind as it could be for someone with nothing better to be doing. Two seconds later, you learned who was calling and came to regret it.

“Hi, This is Rebecca from District Arts, calling with a message from Andre ––”

“Oh, hi!” you tried to walk back your previous tone, straightening up in your seat and pitching your voice higher, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting to hear from him!” 

While Rebecca intimidated you, Andre happened to be your closest friend at the gallery. He worked closely with the artists to curate their collection and help them make sales. 

“Does he want to sort out what to set the opening bid prices at for my new pieces?” A handful of days ago, you sent him pictures of your new work and were waiting to hear his thoughts. You’d always been able to trust his opinion, and a vote of confidence from him might be just the thing to inspire you.

“Uhm…” There was a criminally long pause on the other side of the line, ended by Rebecca’s weary inhale. “Unfortunately, we’re calling to inform you that your pieces will not be included in the next rotation.”

For a minute, you weren’t sure what to make of what she said. You’d never heard those words before.

“What – what do you mean?” you laughed nervously. She probably misspoke. Perks of friendship aside, Andre always included you in sets. 

“Ugh, let me just get him…” her voice faded away as she put the phone down. 

That wasn’t exactly the reassuring statement you were looking for. In the time it took for the call to switch hands, your confusion finally melted in. And then quickly boiled into anger.

The District Arts gallery changed their entire collection every two months. The pieces shown accepted rolling bids throughout the full eight weeks, finally selling at the end of term to their highest offer. After that, the pieces got taken down, sent to happy new owners, and the entire gallery reset with entirely new works. 

So if you missed one rotation, that meant waiting two months to get back in.

“Andre, how am I just cut from the gallery!” you barked before he could get a word in. If he didn’t like your work, he could’ve just said so. 

“No one said that ––”

“Okay, let me rephrase.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, something you found yourself doing quite frequently lately, and took a deep breath in and out. It was seemingly just for show because it did absolutely nothing to calm you down. “Why wouldn’t you put me in the next set? I’m in all of them!”

“I know you are!” He sounded just as upset. “It’s just that… we give you the biggest space we have, because you always manage to fill it up. But this time… I’m not so sure you can.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed. “What makes you say that?” You asked that, but you knew.

“You’ve only finished three pieces… I’m worried how you’ll deliver seven more before we set up.”

“But… it’s four weeks away, I could do ––”

“And it took you four weeks to make what you have... I’m sorry. We couldn’t take that gamble.” 

He took your silence as an opportunity to turn off the work talk and speak, just friend to friend. 

“You know that I trust you and I’d hold that spot if I could. But, I also know what you’re going through right now, and… I don’t know, maybe letting yourself rest would be a good thing?” 

Your heart paused. By, “knowing what you’re going through”, you assumed he didn’t mean the little artist’s block.

“If you’re implying that I can’t do my job because of what happened with Cyrus –”

“I’m not, I’m not....” he backtracked as quickly as he could. “But take another look at the paintings you showed me and tell me if they feel like you.”

Even if he was right, you wanted to fight him. You wanted to cry. You wanted to beg that you didn’t need that big space; you were willing to downsize and just turn in the three that you had. Even if they got shoved into the corner where hardly anybody bothered to look. You just couldn’t afford to go two months without the income. 

But even with tears beading up, you realized that the gallery couldn’t afford it either. They needed to bring in money and you couldn’t do that for them this time. So they were right to go to someone who can.

“Right,” you sniffled, recollecting yourself so he can’t hear the shakiness in your voice. “I understand. It’s a big risk, like you said… It’s for the better.”

Andre tried to thank you for being understanding and spewed some sort of encouragement. The words flew over your head. You managed to toss in a few ‘mhmm’s and ‘sure’s at the right places to coast you along until the call finally ended. 

As soon as it went dead, you dropped your phone to the side and brought your hands to your face, rubbing them furiously over your cheeks. Your fingertips pressed hard into your eyelids, trying to forcibly reabsorb the tears threatening to spill. 

It almost worked, until you tried to breathe. 

A full sob escaped in that one gulp of air and you succumbed to it. But the loud crunching noise of some pedestrian walking over the falling leaves destroyed your sense of privacy, and you quickly wiped away all signs of your breakdown. The crunching stopped just short of your bench and on instinct you flicked your eyes up to see who the intruder was.

You did a double take. It was him. That fucking asshole.

He was standing there, looking dumber than you could even remember, with his hands in his coat pockets and a curious look on his face as he watched you cry. Tucking your sketchbook under your arm in haste, you made it a point to stand up with as much aggression as possible, rolling your eyes at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” you barked. “No need to yell at me this time.”

You bristled past him, barely refraining yourself from checking his shoulder as payback. You wanted to believe you were better than him, but it did sound incredibly tempting. He stood there for a moment before turning on his heel and following you.

“Wait,” he groaned.

You didn’t listen, neither stopping nor slowing down.

“I said wait,” he huffed as he caught up to you, popping up at your side and jogging along as you kept going.

“Yeah, because I need to listen to a guy who yells at strangers in bookstores.” 

Now that you’d brought up the elephant in the room, your feet started moving even faster, working double time to get you away from him.

Damn the fact that he had those long legs. He didn’t even break a sweat trying to keep up. He was inescapable.

“Well, if you waited like I asked, you would’ve gotten an apology for the ––”

“Gee, thanks!” you yelled, stopping for only a second to turn to him and give him a mocking bow of your head, hands clasped together like you were praising at his altar. “I was waiting with bated breath for that! Thank you, kind sir, for now my life can go on.”

“Look, I’m actually sorry,” he snapped. Then in realizing the irony, softened his voice, “I’m sorry for being rude. I was having a bad day… not that that’s an excuse.”

You stared at him blankly, just watching his mouth moving quickly and waiting until it finally stopped. 

“Did you need something?” 

“Did you… did you not hear what I just said?!” 

“No, sorry,” you smiled, voice sweet like sugar. “My ears filter bullshit. Wanna try again?”

He scoffed, looking away like he couldn’t believe you before stepping even closer. “What’s your problem?”

“Me!? The fuck –– what the fuck is your problem?” You turned and stormed off again, seething at his audacity. Spencer just couldn’t relent his annoying tendencies and followed yet again.

“My problem is that I’m trying to be nice, and you’re not letting me!”

You got a good, hard laugh out of that. “Okay, first of all, having to apologize for yelling at me and pushing me isn’t exactly the best starting point for the journey of becoming a nice person.”

“Like I said, I was having a bad day.” 

Under your breath, you muttered, “Well, I hope this one’s even worse.”

“Why are you such a ––” He stopped himself from finishing that thought. Even in his worst mood, he wouldn’t cross that line. 

But he didn’t need to finish it, you knew exactly where he wanted to take it. The soles of your shoes scraped against the loose gravel as you came to a grinding halt, ears ringing.

“A what?” You turned to face him, a sarcastic smile on your face growing wider as he started to shrink more and more. You got up close in his face, daring him to say what he really wanted to. So he could reinforce your belief in exactly the type of person he was. “A what?” 

Spencer pursed his lips and shook his head, refusing to say it no matter how much you challenged him. If he wasn’t going to have the balls to say it, you decided to take it upon yourself.

“Tell you what, you keep thinking about it and get back to me the next time you’re in a cunty mood.” 

The word he was thinking of was probably not as bad, but you had a habit of escalating things. Even if you took this one too far, you didn’t care. 

Before you tried to take off again, Spencer’s hand flew to your elbow. He tugged you back, forcing you to turn around and face him. He didn’t know his own strength; without any resistance, you came stumbling into his chest, at risk of falling over if it weren’t for his tight grip on your arm.

It took you a beat to push him away with both your hands on his chest, vocalizing your disgust for being so close to him. 

“Can you stop trying to disagree with me for a second? I’m trying to tell you that you’re right, I was being a… well, you know…” He avoided the word. Apparently ‘cunt’ was where he drew the line. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it.” 

Your nostrils were still flared and blood hot as ever, but he made you pause. He looked sincere, if not a little tinged with guilt as well. You were suspicious of it.

“You saw me crying and felt bad, didn’t you?”

He laughed darkly. “Well, I saw you, yes. Did I feel bad? No.” 

“Oh, my God,” you growled, berating yourself for getting close to believing he might be capable of decency. 

“I’m joking! I’m joking.” He squeezed your elbow twice in earnest. “I did feel bad, but that’s not why I wanted to say it.”

“Okay.” You weren’t ready to give him a real smile, so you flattened your lips into a thin line and nodded once slowly, and left it at that. 

You still weren’t a fan, but the apology did dampen some of the resentment. Maybe he wasn’t the worst person alive. You’d settle for saying top ten most annoying, instead.

Minutes later, you came to the startling realization that he was still on the path, just two paces behind you. You flinched when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, not expecting him to still be here. 

“Uhm. Where are you… why are you still following me?” 

“I’m not. My car’s that way,” he gestured to the parking lot at the end of the long walkway. “I forgot my loaf for the ducks.” He didn’t mean to offer that information up, it just slipped out. He could practically see your smug expression coming before it even got there.

“You’re not supposed to feed bread to the ducks. It’s bad for them.”

“I don’t.” He didn’t care to explain this to you, but he couldn’t have you thinking he was any less competent than he really was. “It’s a special bread made from water and seeds that were ground into flour. It’s duck-safe.” 

“They make duck-safe bread?” Now that was something you’d never heard before. 

“No… I make duck-safe bread,” he said softly under his breath. 

You didn’t know how else you were supposed to react to that besides laughing wildly. 

“You make it?” He nodded like you were the crazy one here. As if he wasn’t the one spending his spare time grinding up seeds and baking loaves of bread for ducks, donning a frilly pink apron and oven mitts as he did so. At least that’s how you imagined it. “Why not just feed them the seeds?”

“Because, loose seeds will sink in the water and can potentially clog waterbeds and cause foreign bacteria growth in the pond.” 

“So you… hand-make the seeds into a little loaf of bread so it doesn't do that?”

He confirmed. You pondered silently for a moment, then absolutely had to ask, “You ever eaten the duck bread before?”

Spencer was caught off guard by that question. His cheeks deepened to a rosy color.

“Yeah, well, it was the house so…” he laughed nervously and stared at his sneakers. “It’s actually not too bad.”

You weren’t entirely surprised by that. You remembered what his grocery basket looked like, and given those same options, you probably would’ve tried the duck bread too. Still, you cracked the smallest of grins at knowing he makes bread for ducks. The one, sole redeeming fact you’ve learned about Spencer. 

You reached your car first, and Spencer stopped in front of it with you. 

“I’m actually sorry, you know,” he whispered once more, hand resting at the top of your car door as you opened it. He wasn’t talking about the incident at the bookstore.

“Yeah…” For a while you were so busy being angry at Spencer that you forgot about your own problems. 

He noticed your nose was still red around the edges, eyes still a little bleary. “Are you okay, by the way?” His voice was too soft, too genuine.

You shook your head no.

“Is there anything I can do?” You shook your head again. And then you had an awful thought.

You knew he was just offering to help just to say it, because that’s how people react when you say you’re not okay even if they don’t care. But there actually was something he could do for you… Something that Penelope could do.

“Uh, no but…” you fixed your hair and tucked it behind your ear, seamlessly switching to a flirtier voice. “If you still feel bad about the other day, you’re welcome to make it up to me.”

Spencer cocked his head to the side, unsure of how he could do that. 

“Hang out with me sometime.”

“H-hang out?” You could tell that it flustered him, even if he tried to play it off. He swallowed thickly, nose twitching and brows scrunched together.

“Relax, I really do just mean hang out.” You were lying through your teeth. He didn’t need to know that. 

As if he didn’t want to think about it for a second longer and just get out of this conversation as quickly as possible, he agreed without thinking it through. He didn’t even ask why an almost complete stranger would want to hang out with him. 

You stuck your hand out, expecting him to hand over his cell so you could put your contact into it. He rocked on the balls of his feet, watching as you input your contact and sent yourself a text on his phone.

“Hi, this is…” you read out your message as you typed, pausing at just the right place. “What’s your name by the way?”

“Oh-uh, I’m Spencer.” 

A devilish grin took over your face, hidden from his view while you were looking down at the screen. He was going to be easy to fool.

-

-

agh! im still not in love with how this chapter is turning out, but it came to a point where i just had to stop fiddling with it and just post it. any feedback or comments about this story is very much appreciated 💕

thank you so much for being on my taglist 💕 

if you’d like to join, the link is at the top of my masterlist

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[nexility-sims]

GET TO KNOW ME TAG.

i borrowed this from @sims4presidentoftheunitedstates !!! ❤️

nickname: you can call me n. irl nicknames include ... nikita, nicholas, nik-nak ... that’s abt it. i’m not really a nickname person & the ones i do have are adshjdkjlga ridiculous 

zodiac: sagittarius apparently but the scorpio moon (?) is more accurate .... 

height: 5′0.5″ 

last movie i saw: oh gosh ... might’ve been legally blonde LMAO 

last thing i googled: “achiote substitute” apparently :^) 

song stuck in my head: year 3000 - the jonas brothers (^: 

other blogs: i have 18495824 roleplay group / writing blogs (okay, maybe more like ?? 25+), including the two i’ve used as home base the last decade ... i don’t use them anymore !! 

blogs following: interpreting this as blogs i follow ... 257 as of today 

amount of sleep: i can’t function with more or less than NINE hours 

lucky number: don’t have one ! let’s say it’s situational 

what i am wearing: a super soft star wars tee shirt w/ a storm trooper marching band (gift from my mama, part of my decent star wars collection) ?? some gray shorts i stole from my sister ?? black flip flops aka my house shoes 

dream job: i just wanna be a tenured professor & teach students & do research & write books ..... beyond that, maybe a fiction novelist :^) maybe i’ll publish my manuscript some day ajdksfgsl

dream trip: i just had it !!!! went to maine w/ my best friend from undergrad. next is visiting ~ancestral homelands~ on the coast w/ my mama and sister, hopefully this november !!!

languages: i am ASHAMED, my language abilities are nonexistent asdkjfga i’ve dipped my big toe in french, latin, and arabic; studying spanish for research / my degree right now. gentle sigh.

oceanside or mountains: mountains, hands down. beaches are fine but ... there’s something magical about the mountains. my parents live atop one, and it’s the best place on earth. 

do you play an instrument: me, musical ??? lmao NO

current favorite song: hm. i have been listening to the tradition - halsey on repeat as of late, but ... hard to say otherwise !!!! kanye - the chainsmokers ?? the lovers - nine inch nails ?? say you’ll be there - the spice girls ??? that’s all i got for ya this week. no cohesion, only chaotic vibes.

random fact: i cooked pinto beans today ! 

describe yourself as (an) aesthetic thing(s): i .... opt outta this one. my aesthetic is shambles. it’s 2013 victoria beckham meets 2004 dawn of the dead meets a sundress and high heels meets that hélène cixous passage which begins, “For us, eating and being eaten belong to the terrible secret of love. We love only the person we can eat.”

i tag: the first ten people i saw in my activity tab !!! that would be: @itsgrimalldi @wa-royal-tea @the-royals-ts4 @quiver-full-of-sims @cassimopeia @gracisims @royalsofsimgland @pinkwohoo @thevalencianroyals @matthewsimmer !!! sorry if you’ve already done this or hate tag games sdjhfksgjlg & anyone else who wants to do it, consider urself tagged 

[redhoodieone]

Hate You More

A new fic that I was inspired to write! There will be a Part 2 since this is going to get VERY smutty. Enjoy!

WARNINGS: Language. Mentions a little smut.

I’m a princess. Well, a “bit” of a princess. But that’s not exactly my fault. I’m an only child. My mom and dad always wanted one kid and once they had me they were happy...until they divorced when I was eight-years-old and my dad left somewhere far away. Ever since then, it was always just me and mom, which was never a bad thing.

We were close and got along just fine. Every weekend was our Nicholas Sparks movie marathons on the couch, eating a shit ton of strawberry ice cream straight from the carton, and painting each other’s nails and having her braid my hair and tell me stories of when I was little.

Everything was perfect with just me and my mom...until she married him.

Bruce Wayne.

I never thought my mom would ever want to remarry but Bruce somehow stole her heart and made her fall in love with him.

I didn’t want to blame her for being so stupid for marrying him. I mean, Bruce did treat my mom right. I just hated him so much for convincing my mom to move us into his mansion.

So far away from my first home.

But I know he really loves her, despite being known as a billionaire playboy, womanizing, man whore. After three years into their marriage, I noticed he really cared about me and treated me like his daughter; certainly overprotective and reminding me if I ever needed anything to always go to him.

He even helped me get into GCU. With his help, I’m now into my second year. He’s really proud that I’m a responsible, twenty-one year old college student, and that makes me feel good.

But it hasn’t always been perfect with Bruce. Not only did I get a stepdad, but I got THREE asshole stepbrothers: Dick, Jason, and Tim. They’re the boys Bruce adopted.

Dick wasn’t exactly an asshole. He’s twenty-five years old and he’s always in and out of the mansion. He’s a party animal and I rarely see him unless he’s home for Sunday dinners and for Alfred to do his laundry.

Tim is tolerable. He’s always kind to me, but he’s also a shy and awkward fourteen-year-old. He’s seriously a nerd and he’s becoming an addict to coffee and always being on his computer. But he doesn’t bother me at all.

Not like Jason Fucking Todd.

He’s twenty-one years old and is a complete lazy ass who mooches on everyone.

I honestly hated him the second I met Jason. The second my mom and I moved into the mansion, I had set down backpack on the kitchen counter so I could remove my sweater and throw away the empty bag of fried fast food I had for lunch. The moment I turned around, Jason had jumped up to sit on the kitchen counter and had the nerve to pick up my backpack and throw it to the floor.

“Oops! Your shit was in my spot.”

I had my fucking cell phone, laptop, and picture frames of my family in there.

And that’s how it all started. Jason made it very clear he hates me and I refuse to back down and be nice to him. I mean, the fucking asshole has zero respect for me anyways. All he does is drink, eat all the food, and bring bar sluts home to fuck loudly in his bedroom which is right NEXT DOOR TO MINE!!!

All night and early in the mornings. All I can hear is Jason’s headboard slamming repeatedly against the wall and his bimbos screaming, “Oh God! Right there, Jay! Oh my God, HARDER!”

Seeing him afterwards is worse though. I could be walking to the bathroom or the kitchen and he’d just happen to come by to use the bathroom too, or get a drink of water...only using a sheet that’s wrapped around his waist!

He’d fucking smirk at me and I would try so hard to not look down at his big bulge and thick hard on.

Jason is my stepbrother...only my stepbrother, I constantly remind myself.

But Jason is also an asshole. He may look sexy and taste delicious but his one unattractive flaw is his behavior.

And I’m not one to sit back and let assholes walk all over me. I do get back at Jason quite a bit; enough to piss him off.

Today is one of the days I decide to have a big appetite. After my shower, I run downstairs only wearing my comfy pajama short shorts and a black tank top. I remember Dick is at his own apartment and Alfred is away in London on “holiday” as he calls it. Entering the kitchen, I see Mom making breakfast for us: pancakes, bacon, and sausage.

Bruce is sitting at the kitchen table, drinking his coffee and reading on his cellphone. Tim is drinking a cup of coffee (maybe 5th refill?) and eating pancakes and some sausage.

“Good morning,” I say to all of them.

“Good morning sweetie,” Mom replies with such a warm motherly smile.

Bruce grins at me. “Good morning, Y/N.”

All Tim does is nod his head to me and continues to eat.

“I’m starving,” I say and already fill my plate with two pancakes and some bacon and sausage as well.

I take a seat next to Tim and dig in. Ace, Bruce’s dog moves closer to my feet and looks up at me for some food. Fucking puppy dog eyes...I sneak a few pieces of bacon to him.

Mom eventually sits down with hers and Bruce’s plate. He smiles lovingly at her and the two kiss.

It’s a calming morning. Everyone’s eating and just enjoying the silence...until the asshole comes into the kitchen.

Jason literally has no shame. He comes in only wearing his black boxers and has very cute bed head. Stop it, Y/N. He’s completely shirtless. Not even acknowledging he’s in the kitchen, Jason quickly makes a plate for himself which he only puts three pancakes and like two handful sizes of bacon.

I silently growl and tighten my hand around my fork as I’m stuck looking at his bare, muscular upper body. His arms look strong. He’s just...all muscle. All man.

But then I remember he’s a fucking asshole and I hate him.

As if he can feel my eyes on him, Jason quickly glances at me and smirks. He actually fucking flexes his muscles for me.

I immediately look down because I just know my cheeks are red like tomatoes. God, does he have to be so attractive???

“Good morning, princess,” Jason taunts me, after greeting everyone else, obviously. He sits directly in front of me with that shit eating grin. “Did you sleep well last night?”

I glare at him. Fuck him. “Yeah, I did. You know very well that I can’t sleep peacefully unless you bring a whore home and fuck her until she’s blue in the face, Jason. I mean, when it’s so quiet at night, I just can’t fall asleep! It’s impossible! It’s like I HAVE to hear you fuck just to go to sleep!” I say sarcastically.

“So, you do listen to me when I fuck my girls, huh? Is your sex life nonexistent that you have to get yourself off on others who actually get off?” Jason jokes and shoves a piece of bacon in his mouth. “That’s pretty pathetic, even for you, Y/N. At least Tiny Tim here watches internet porn. Maybe you should start getting yourself off with that instead of listening to me fuck.”

“Jason...” Bruce warns. “Don’t even start this morning.”

“Start what? I’m not even doing anything,” Jason says. He raises an eyebrow at me and keeps that fucking smirk on his face.

“Leave Y/N alone, Jason,” Tim butts in.

“Quiet Timbers. Let the princess tell me off. I love it when she gets all red and pissed off.”

My mom glances at me with a serious look, too. Why is she giving me that look when I didn’t even do anything?!

“Aw, there’s sausage?! I didn’t know there was sausage up there!” Jason whines. His eyes dart from my plate over to my mom and Bruce.

“I actually served the last few pieces to Bruce. I’m sorry, Jason,” my mom apologizes. She frowns and looks down at hers and Bruce’s empty plates.

“That’s all right. I see there’s still five uneaten sausages on Y/N’s plate,” Jason says and smirks at me. He looks down at my plate and back up at me. “You’re not going to eat them, are you princess? Because if not, I want them.”

He’s fucking teasing me. Jason is mocking me with those green eyes and that fucking smile that wets every girl’s panties. It’s like he actually believes he’s going to get away with this. He really thinks he’s going to get what he wants. Jason slowly reaches a hand towards my plate to get my sausages.

I want to burst his cocky bubble in front of everyone.

“Actually...I’m going to give them to the dog. And by dog, I mean Ace,” I say, quickly grabbing all the sausages in my hand and feed them to Ace under the table. “You see, I don’t feed dirty dogs like you. Ace is a clean, loyal, and sweet dog. You on the other hand are a dirty, disgusting, slut who fucks anything with a hole.”

My sudden outburst startles everyone at the table. I see everyone’s wide eyes and open mouths hanging in shock at me.

Jason chuckles lowly. His eyes are full of anger and hatred for me. “What did you just say to me?” he asks.

“You heard me,” I reply with the same tone. “Unless you lost your hearing due to all the screaming from the banshee skank you brought home last night from only God knows where.”

“You know, you’re starting to sound like a jealous bitch. For someone who has claimed to hate me and not want anything to do with me on multiple occasions, you seem to be really obsessed about my sex life,”

“Oh please, don’t flatter yourself,”

“Y/N stop,” my mom says.

“You think I’m flattering myself?! I’m not the one who always checks myself out! You know, I always see you staring at me right?! If anything, you’re flattered by me!” Jason snaps.

“ENOUGH!!!” Bruce shouts.

We’re all silent but Jason and I continue to stare each other down.

“I’ve had enough of the two of you fighting! It’s old and it’s seriously ridiculous. It needs to end now. Your mother and I are going to leave for Spain tonight, and I don’t want to hear anything bad about the two of you while we’re gone. Now, apologize to each other,” Bruce says.

“Apologize to the princess? For what?! She’s a fucking bitch, who’s always bitching, and she’s basically the biggest bitch who ever bitched!” Jason yells. “She should apologize to me!”

“If I’m a fucking bitch then that makes you the biggest asshole here! You’re literally the most disgusting, disrespectful, lazy ass guy I have ever met! You have NO respect for anyone who lives here! Why should I fucking apologize to you?! All you do is drink, eat all the food, and bring random whores to our house and force us all to listen to you have sex!” I yell back.

“Our house? You think this is your house, too? I hate to burst your “bitching bubble” sweetheart, but this isn’t your house! You’re extra baggage that had to be dragged here! Your mom was wanted here; not you. As far as I’m concerned, you’re not even family!” Jason yells louder than before.

My bottom lip trembles uncontrollably. I feel tears running down my cheeks. I need to get out of here before I completely break down in front of Jason.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Jason!” I choke out.

I quickly jump out of my seat and run up the stairs. After I slam my bedroom door, I throw myself down onto my bed and cry. I can even hear Bruce screaming his head off and tearing Jason a new one.

——————————————————————————

I wake up to an empty stomach. Rolling over onto my back, I rub my eyes and yawn. It’s dark in my bedroom; indicating it’s already nighttime. I reach for my cellphone on my nightstand and see it’s already eight o’clock.

I must have been really exhausted to have slept the day away. Those days usually happen after I cry a lot and feel like shit.

Mom and Bruce are probably already gone. Their Spain trip is only for the weekend. I’m seriously glad about that since I don’t know how I’m going to get through the weekend with Jason still around.

Maybe if I’m lucky he’s already at the bar and picking up skanks. That means I have time to eat and a few hours of silence for myself.

I decide to go downstairs and I instantly notice all the lights are off except for the kitchen light. Slowly stepping into the kitchen, I see it’s empty and that there’s a big box of pizza and two drinks; a bottle of beer and a glass of orange juice with the bottle of Vodka next to it.

Raising an eyebrow in question, I look around to see who did this. Noticing the back sliding door is open, I walk over slowly to peek out.

Jason.

On the phone and sitting at the patio table.

He doesn’t see me but I can hear him clearly.

“Do you think she’ll really like it?”

[misssophiachase]

All You Never Say - Part 4a

Mr Mikael and Mrs Esther Mikaelson and Dr Grayson and Mrs Miranda Pierce request the pleasure of your presence at the wedding of their children:

The Hon Elijah Edward Mikaelson and Dr Katherine Elena Pierce

On the twenty-third of June, twenty-twenty one, 1400h at Ely Cathedral followed by a reception at Mikaelson Manor, Ely Cambridgeshire

Dress: White Tie

23rd June 2021, Mikaelson Manor, Ely Cambridgeshire - 8:47am

“What do you mean the beagle ate the wedding cake?” Caroline hissed, shutting the door behind her so as not to alarm the bride on her big day.

“Well, I can detail the stages of destruction, but yes, the Mikaelson's beloved pet dog decided to taste test the cake early, long story short.” Caroline was certain that the housekeeper’s use of “the Mikaelson’s beloved pet dog” was clearly by design.

Caroline was all for adorable dogs, especially those that were photogenic for the wedding album like Tully, but not those who scoffed the cake before the ceremony had even begun. Especially given that extra amount of fondant and extra tier which cost the earth.

But given the way Tully looked at her with those imploring, brown eyes and the telling evidence of frosting smeared across her chops, she was close to calling it a day.

Who needed cake anyway? It was worth way too many calories and most people would be so drunk that far into the festivities it wouldn’t even matter, right?

“So, I see you’ve met our cute but pressing problem.”

Caroline turned to see the best man in all his glory. And by that she meant those unkempt curls, sly grin and a fitted, tank top that should be illegal given those arms on display. 

Was this their thing? Just running into each other partially clothed. She looked down at her ensemble self-consciously glad for the shorts, t-shirt and the Maid of Honour monogrammed robe that she greedily pulled across her chest.

“Our problem?”

“Because a problem shared is a problem halved right, wedding buddy?”

“Wedding buddy? Oh, you mean the same guy who wanted to document the lost ring for speech fodder?”

“It was a joke but clearly you don’t know what that means, grouchy.”

“Oh, like that time you let your dog, albeit cute, eat the wedding cake before the ceremony. I only hope the Bride and Groom figurines are still firmly intact at least?”

“Well, their passing was most definitely mourned,” Klaus noted. Caroline was trying to be mad, but he was doing that thing where he looked cute so as to avoid her wrath. Bastard.

“So, what you’re telling me is that we have no cake or cake topper and the wedding is due to start in 5 hours?"

“I mean there’s some cake left, albeit a mess, but if the guests want to eat it off the floor...”

“Yeah, I can see the Prime Minister doing that. You are not helping, Mikaelson. Look, I’ll call the baker, they must have a back-up cake on hand, otherwise why are we paying them such an exorbitant amount? I mean it’s a cake, like it’s hard to bake one of those,” she rambled, the reality of the situation making a sudden and ugly appearance.

“Okay, I didn’t want to tell you this because you are clearly already upset but the baker has no wedding themed alternatives,” Klaus explained, shooing away both the guilty canine and her loyal housekeeper in the process, no doubt by design. This was not the news Caroline wanted to hear and clearly he knew it.

“What?"

“You are not going to lose it, not on my watch, Forbes.”

“I am not losing it,” she hissed, finally finding her voice. “But she is your dog and that makes you responsible for my mood.”

“She is a Mikaelson, I mean expensive taste comes with the territory,” Klaus replied. Caroline, meanwhile, felt the brief spell he had over her lift.

“Can you please stop offering up annoying commentary? We have an emergency, one that needs to be rectified STAT.”

“What I didn’t get to say was that the baker has two other cakes on hand.” Caroline’s ears pricked up, maybe all wasn’t lost.

“I’m listening,” she murmured.

Klaus pulled his cell from his pocket and swiped through his phone. “These are the options.”

He leaned in closer so she could see the photos but in the process his arm grazed hers and she was momentarily blindsided and not focused on the pressing emergency. It reminded her so much of two years ago, when she’d felt his arm encircle her waist and pull her towards him. 

Caroline told herself he must have been dreaming at the time but that didn’t take away from how it had felt. It felt good, really good.

“Alright, love?” She looked up into his blue eyes, only deciding too late that it was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

“I’m just shocked by...” she paused, her eyes hurriedly flickering to his cell screen. “Congratulations on your Retirement, Bernie?”

“I’m sure we can change a few letters around or something,” she gave him a look which plainly said it wasn’t going to happen. “Right, here’s the other one."

“Happy 6th Birthday to our Unicorn Princess? Don’t think Kat would mind being called a unicorn princess at all but not sure about Elijah...”

“Well, what suggestions do you have, Forbes?”

He had a point, there were none that forthcoming but then it hit her.

“The bomboniere.” Caroline was surprised she thought of it given she was so caught off guard by his close proximity and the unfolding situation.

“The what?”

“I don’t have time to explain wedding terminology right now, I have a bride to reassure that everything is peachy. Just meet me in the kitchen in twenty minutes and put some clothes on while you’re at it.”

“Only if you do,” he smirked. Caroline didn’t wait before slamming the door in his smug face.

There were so many things to reconcile with Klaus Mikaleson and not just her feelings. Last night they’d shared more than a sandwich in the kitchen and two years ago...well that was another story.

Perch, Los Angeles CA - 14 February (two and a bit years earlier)

Caroline felt like she’d finally hit rock bottom.

Not because it was Valentine’s Day.

Or that she was single.

That wasn’t the worst part of her predicament. She was currently...well, before she could lament her situation a bell rang out, breaking Caroline from her regretful thoughts. She didn’t have time to bid Phil the Chiropractor farewell because a burly looking brunette appeared immediately in his place.

“Tyler.” Apparently there was no need for an actual greeting or for Caroline to ask his name in the first place. I suppose they only had two minutes so he was getting straight to the point. Caroline couldn’t blame him given how painful this whole thing was.

Caroline was going to kill them. First Bonnie, who wanted their apartment to herself tonight so she could cook a romantic dinner for current boyfriend Jeremy. Clearly he hadn’t been present at her most horrific of food failures given they were still dating.

They’d been living together since Bonnie relocated to Los Angeles nine months earlier and Caroline was enjoying rooming with her best friend again after so long. Then she got a boyfriend, even if he looked twelve, and Caroline was relegated back to her usual existence. It wasn’t like Caroline wanted or needed a boyfriend because her schedule was busy enough.

Which took her to the second person she had to blame. Lexi. Her colleague and friend, who decided they should spend the evening speed dating so Bonnie could “get it on with her boyfriend” as she put it. Caroline figured the fact she’d already signed them up weeks earlier and only asked right before a deposition hearing were the main reasons why she had no choice but to agree.

Now, here she was, pretending to be interested in Tyler and shooting deliberate looks in Lexi’s direction who seemed unaffected given the way she was attempting to read her guy’s palm. Smooth.

“I don’t think I got your name?”

“Huh?” She looked into his warm, brown eyes feeling guilty she’d been blatantly ignoring him.

“Your name?” Before she could reply, she heard a very familiar voice call out her name.

Then he appeared in all his gorgeous goodness, his ability to wear a suit had not waned since they’d seen each other last at a mutual friend’s engagement party. Why he was here of all places, she had no idea.

“Caroline, sweetheart.” Sweetheart?

“Do you know this guy?” Tyler asked, the confusion obvious. She didn’t blame him.

“Of course she knows me, I’m only her boyfriend.”

Her what now? Caroline was too shocked to speak let alone reprimand him for being a presumptuous idiot.

“You have a boyfriend? Then why are you here?”

“I’d like to know the same thing, mate,” Klaus agreed, his hands crossed over his chest. Caroline was madly trying to crawl under the table just so everyone would stop looking at her like she was some two-timing girlfriend.

Lexi meanwhile seemed to be enjoying the entertainment from afar, raising her champagne glass in salute, even if she had no idea what was happening. Caroline wasn’t enjoying it at all. She wanted to scream at him for being such an ass but at the same time a rescue from this situation was an equally enticing prospect.

“I…”

Before she could find the words, he found them for her.

“It’s my fault, sweet cheeks,” he implored, pushing past Tyler and placing his hands in hers. Caroline was trying to ignore the electricity it generated but also the horrible pet name he’d bestowed. Like he couldn’t have come up with something normal? “I neglected you and for that I am so sorry but just know that I will love you, always and forever.”

Was he kidding? Next thing he’d be pulling out a cracker jack bracelet or resembling any one of the romantic leads in a Nicholas Sparks adaptation. Caroline made a note to tease him about his taste in movies and television later.

However it seemed their audience didn’t mind one bit. Women and men nearby were more interested in fawning over the scene playing out than resuming speed dating. Even their organiser seemed transfixed.

She hated him, especially for interrupting her night and being the smug pain-in-the-ass she knew so well but she needed to get out of there fast and he was her ticket.

“Honey bear,” she cooed, noting the slight twitch in his jaw. Caroline knew he was trying to withhold his signature smirk. But why did he have to smell so good withholding it? His hands were still firmly intertwined with hers too. “You took me for granted, so why should I forgive you?”

Now he was trying to contain an eye roll, only someone who’d known him for that long could tell. And she was loving every moment especially if he was going to crash her speed date and embarrass her in the process.

“And for that I am eternally sorry, baby cakes.” Caroline had to really try not to dry reach. “But you are the one for me. We are destined to be together forever, like soulmates.”

As much as she wanted to draw this out and force him to eat those horrible and predictable platitudes, this show needed to end. Now. Given Tyler’s defeated expression she knew it wouldn’t be too difficult to transition to the bar and to a much-needed straight vodka on the rocks.

“You were an imbecile, Mario, but I’m willing to consider a reconciliation if you stop being an asshat and promise to worship me forever.”

Before she could relish in her response and the slight tugging at the edges of his crimson lips, he’d pulled her up and moved them towards the direction of the bar. No doubt because her demands were slightly out of the question and he was starting to feel embarrassed himself. Served him right really. Given half of the people were entranced by their conversation and the rest were clearly dubious she decided it was good timing to high tail it out of there.

“Worship you forever, someone clearly has tickets on themselves,” he muttered, gesturing to the barman. “And who is Mario? I so do not look like a Mario.”

“Says the man child named Mario who called me sweet cheeks and baby cakes."

“I was clearly being sarcastic,” he shot back, gesturing for a shot. “What was honey bear all about then?”

“You barrelled into my life uninvited, and last time I checked you don’t live here.”

“I'm in town for business and was having dinner with colleagues. Had I known it was going to be dinner and a show I might have arrived sooner.” Caroline chose not to respond immediately, just drank her vodka in one, long gulp. “Someone is thirsty.”

“I need to drink to deal with you.”

“Says the girl speed dating,” he whistled. “I mean you can be difficult and kind of abrasive, Forbes, but I never thought you’d speed date in a million years.”

“I am only doing this for Bonnie because she wanted the apartment to herself to cook for her date and then my friend Lexi signed me up without telling me,” she rambled.

“She’ll have another vodka,” he gestured to the barman. “So, I take it this boyfriend hasn’t sampled Bennett’s cooking yet? I just hope you left the fire extinguisher in plain view.”

“That’s what you took from all of this?’"

“I feel like if I delve too deeply I’ll be too immersed in all the Rebekah type drama and we both know that is not my thing.”

“I’ll be sure to pass on your best wishes to your sister,” she growled. “So, why involve yourself and embarrass me like that in front of total strangers? Let me guess, you’ve got no one to play with and were bored?”

“Don’t underestimate my ability to find a playmate, love.” The way he drawled “playmate” was making places below feel like they hadn’t in a long time. So much so that she didn’t even try to bite back. “Anyway, I thought it would be fun,” he teased, his left dimple making an unwanted appearance at that exact moment. “And I could tell you you needed rescuing.”

“I’m not some damsel in distress you need to save, Mikaelson,” she argued.

“Says the girl who looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here,” he shot back. “So, you’re welcome.”

“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!” The patrons began to chant and tap their glasses, Caroline only just realising they seemed to have an audience of very interested speed daters watching their every move.

“I’m going to need more vodka,” she muttered, “But not here.”

Roosevelt Hotel, Beverly Hills - 2 hours later

“So, this is where you bring all your playmates?” It was the first thing that came to mind when Caroline spied the king size bed taking pride of place in his suite. They’d spent an hour at 25 degrees, the hotel’s poolside bar and were now in his suite.

Inexplicably.

Okay, maybe not so inexplicably.

Caroline wasn’t one to go to a guy’s hotel room - especially this particular one - but between the vodka buzz and the fact Lexi had picked up and Bonnie was enjoying her night in their apartment there wasn’t much choice about where to go.

The vodka had helped loosen her usual inhibitions and, although she’d never say it aloud, Caroline was enjoying his company. Although, if anyone asked about this temporary bout of insanity she’d blame the alcohol.

“ Says the woman who was questioning the existence of said playmates only a few hours earlier.”

“So, you won’t mind if I do this?” She stated, not bothering to ask his permission as she discarded her heels and jumped onto the perfectly made bed. He stopped what he was doing momentarily, his eyes transfixed on her short, black dress and bouncing, blonde waves.

“I’m going to have to tip the maid extra now,” his voice was low, husky almost.

“Maybe she deserves it,” Caroline shot back.

He didn’t respond immediately, just shrugged off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. She was watching him do it like it was in slow motion. Then he rolled up his shirt sleeves. Who knew forearms could be so...appealing?

Caroline was starting to think that she was entering some sort of alternate universe she needed to escape, if only just to keep her sanity and self respect. I mean he was Klaus Mikaelson and she wasn’t one of his “playmates.” Not by a long shot.

“Drink?”

“Water, please,” she replied immediately, he cocked an eyebrow as if to say she was no fun. “I’m a cheap drunk, what can I say? And who knows what else I might trash in this place under the influence?”

He seemed to accept her response, busying himself with drink preparation. “So, why exactly did you go speed dating in the first place?” He asked, filling a tall glass with ice cubes.

“I told you,” she panted, finally tiring of the activity and making herself comfortable on the expansive bed. “Bonnie…”

“I heard that version,” he pressed. “But I want the real one.”

He passed her the water and made himself comfortable on the bed, his aftershave combining with the dizziness and messing with her overall composure.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, and maybe you don’t understand, but spending it alone can kind of suck,” she confessed. “Especially when your roomie kicks you out of the house.”

“I just hope you kick Bennett out on Halloween as payback.”

“You like Halloween?”

“You have no idea, love,” he chuckled. “No rose petals or corny ballads, just blood, guts and general mayhem.”

“Noted.”

“It’s just this ridiculous Hallmark Holiday,” Klaus offered, stretching out further and grazing her legs in the process. “It creates unrealistic expectations.”

“So, it’s Hallmark’s fault?”

“Hallmark is the tip of the iceberg,” he explained. “Every candy company, every florist, every jeweller and don’t even get me started on those terrible things they call romantic comedies.”

“You don’t like romantic comedies?”

“I try to steer clear for my own sanity, Caroline.”

“Not tonight,” she murmured, an idea suddenly coming to mind. “If I’m forced to stay in this mediocre hotel with you then...”

It was a lie and they both knew it but suddenly the less tipsy version of herself felt like she needed an excuse to stay the night with her best friend’s brother in such close quarters.

“I demand a movie marathon.”

“Terminator, Rambo, Rocky?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day, Mikaelson,” she shot back. “And I happen to know there is a marathon on television tonight.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me?”

“I’m deathly serious,” she answered. “But before we start, I’m going to need some popcorn and a shirt.”

“You want my shirt?”

“Not the shirt you’re wearing, lover boy, don’t get so excited. But I can’t sleep in this dress.”

His eyes seemed to linger a little too long on her body and Caroline was trying to do everything in her power to remain calm. Luckily he broke the silence not too long after.

“I’ll get you a shirt, but I’m not going to enjoy these movies at all, understand? I am only watching these ridiculous excuses of cinema because you’ve taken my television hostage?”

2 hours later…

“So, the apparent “virgin who can’t drive” ends up with the step brother? I mean I’m not surprised given the poor and predictable plot but is this kind of union legal in the state of California?”

“For the fiftieth time, he’s not related,” she growled, throwing a few popcorn kernels in his direction. This is about Cher realising that material things in life aren’t everything.”

"Whatever you say, Forbes. Although, tell me after this movie ended she ditched the mansion, the jeep, the designer plaid and knee sock combination outfits and moved to the Valley?”

He was annoying but also eerily observant.

“Yes, I mean maybe? People with money can change.”

“They’ve clearly never met Mikael or Esther.”

He said it quietly but Caroline couldn’t mistake the pain in his voice. She knew about his difficult past but they’d never been close enough to discuss it and given they were lying in the same bed it didn’t seem like the best time to open that pandora’s box.

“Do I have a great choice for you next,” she promised, her eyes sparkling, hoping to lift the mood.

2 hours later…

“Are you crying?”

“No, for the last time I have allergies, Caroline.”

“Inside?”

“The pollen level was high today and the doors in these rooms are forever opening and closing. Maybe the maid doesn’t deserve such a big tip after all.”

Maybe it was cruel, but it was on television and there was no stopping the effects of the Notebook on even the most emotionless male.

2 hours later…

“I thought I’d seen everything,” he scoffed, stretching out tiredly. “She paid a guy to be her wedding date?”

“Not just anyone, he’s hot.”

“He’s an escort.”

“I think it adds to his overall appeal. He knows how to treat a woman because of his experience.”

“And how many escorts have you met?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Wow, if you ever show up to a wedding with a stranger, I’ll be asking for their credentials,” he joked. “Wait, you think he’s attractive?”

“Didn’t I just say that?”

“Each to their own I suppose, but that aside, the whole premise is just unrealistic.”

“It is a movie.”

“Yeah, a romantic comedy,” he shot back. “Case closed. Now, can we please sleep already? I think I deserve it after that marathon effort.”

“Fine,” she conceded, leaning across to turn off the lamp. “I have to say your shirt is very comfortable.”

“It should be," he replied, snuggling into the covers. “That’s my lucky Ramones t-shirt.”

As her head hit the pillow, Caroline was wondering why he gave her that particular shirt to wear. She couldn’t deny just how good the worn fabric felt against her bare skin and how the faint hint of his aftershave consumed her senses.

Sleep was immediate.

When she woke up the next morning and felt his arm encircle her waist and pull her towards him Caroline relished in the feeling. She assumed life would go back to normal but for now she was happy to live in the moment. It was probably better that way.

Read on AO3 HERE 

[mostlikelyshutup]

thoughts while watching the first harry potter:

listen i started this list a little late im ngl but notable thoughts so far are me thinking of dumbledore as a gay idiot and still loving hagrid

do you think hes speaking in parseltongue in the zoo when hes speaking to the snake

forgot boats existed

these idiots do scream a lot dont they

i forgot how light hearted this universe really is in the first couple movies

yer a wizard harry, okay hagrid maybe slide him into it a little better

we get it tuney you have fucking trauma, doesnt mean you should abuse a child

hasnt everyone had their name down since they were born, hagrid? theres a list

i like that his umbrella is pink

are you paying for those damages hargid? stop taking the door off the hinges

though, if the dursleys are, keep breaking shit

speaking about dragons on the the fucking tube, its a miracle harry didnt get in trouble with the ministry sooner

what is hagrid's usual? does anyone know???

fucking Quirrell, cant wait for your epic love story with the dark lord

maybe we should tell the 12 year old how the fuck everyone knows his name, just maybe

they do a great job of getting the wonder down pat

how much money and licensing do you think it took for them to get all these owls on set

ahh yes, antisemitism the bank

how many vaults are in gringotts?? also if harry's vault is the potters vault, a literal like sacred 28 family, one of the original families, and its number 600 something, how many were there before the potters?? did the potters get a vault recently? or is this james and lily's vault?? how rich were james and lily if so??

look at ollivander, crazy tinker uncle, love him

this might be the socialist in me but why do people have to pay for wands if everyone needs one??

why is the dark lords twin wand just sitting around on the shelf, ollie me boy??

do you think thats Harry's true wand or do you think thats because of the horcux thing?? do you harry had to get another wand after he died?? did he? i dont remember the last movie

is ollie me boys actor wearing contacts or are his eyes just like that??

thats a very weird way of showing Halloween 81, very misleading

hagrid said ill predict voldys rise in the first movie so we can have some plot development

hagrid is late to everything isnt he? i can feel it in my bones

i swear ive seen these movies, and ive even read the first book, i just dont remember shit

youd think theyd have someone in the know stationed close to the entrance for the platform, for any muggleborns

ginnys actress really had no fucking lines in this movie did she, just had to stand there

oh wait she said good luck

amazing work ginny

ooh a warm filter

can muggles see the express? like just running from london to scotland

wicked!

you didnt have to show the woman the sad sandwich ron

i think the trolly replenishes magically, i think thats how thats how that works, i want to believe that

god i cant tell if i would love or hate hermione, shes pretentious but so was i at that age

god dont fucking point your wand right in someones face mione

how does mione know who harry is?? why does she care?

look at the tiny first years, might just go and pinch theyre cheeks

MINNIEEEE i love you minnie

looking stunning minnie, the green brings out the sternness in your brow

you go minnie, give your speech, thats my head of house

shut up draco, youre not bond

you pretentious fuckwit, your hair is brassy anyways

if this is a class of kids born in the middle of a war, how big are the usual class sizes wtf

THE FUCKING CLAP

fucking propaganda ron, you slytherin hater

what order are these names going in, did they just randomized the list

oooh we get quiet for the boy who lived, jesus let him keep living

the fact that for the rest of these people its just silent is so fucking funny to me, Harry's just fucking whispering to himself

get their attention minnie

me dads a muggle, mums a witch, bit of a shock for him when he found out

NICK, love to see you buddy

i have no emotional attachment to peeves but i feel i should mention him here

the stairs still piss me off, why the fuck would you make moving stair cases

who sets out gloves for the next day? am i the weird one who doesnt??

Minnie, you are the love of my life

shut up snape you dramatic bloodpurist incel

i know theyre setting him up to be mistaken as the villain but jesus christ hes still an asshole

your robes Neville, you forgot your robes

its weird how they have to learn all these latin charms yet only have to say up to get their brooms to work

why wont you go after him, hes obviously not exactly in control, Hooch

does Hooch only teach first years? she is quite literally the equivalent of a history teacher who coaches football

what the fuck is Quirells classroom

they dont make the house teams because no first years can try out, Ron

MINNIE PLAYED QUIDDITCH?!?!? WHY DIDN'T I KNOW THIS

why didnt you speak up earlier Mione wtf

bc the fire wont give you away, harry, better hide

FLUFFY, WHOS A GOOD BOY

they have much worse things locked up in the school, Ron

Oliver wood is a bloody liar because i still dont fuckign understand quidditch, also theres like 500 rules, wtf

thats a shitty explanation of how the game works, Oliver

BLOW IT UP SEAMUS

SHES TWO FEET BEHIND YOU RON YOU IDIOT

carrot cake? on halloween?

dont shrug as if you didnt literally bully her ron

thought youd oughta know, bit of an understatement Quirell

no duh the trolls left the dungeon ron

lying: the best start to any friendship

we're at a net zero points for gryffindor for the year at the moment

the amount of interaction these kids have with professors is so weird to me, is this what small class size do to kids?? its weird

not comforting Oliver

Okay i understand Oliver simps now, I get it okay

are there no backups or subs for quidditch? feels like there should be, like of all the games

set him on fire mione, i know hes not the villain of the movie but god he sucks

fancy flying from harry fucking potter

okay but also i feel like there are some things we should not trust hagrid with, like hes not that great at keeping secrets

why is harry excited about christmas if he thinks hes not getting presents? i knw there are other aspects but like thats the only reasont o get up early

i always remember this scene at night for some reason??

not just an invisibility cloak, THE invisibility cloak ron

btw who gives it to harry? is it remus? is it dumbledore? is it like an inheritance thing? whats up with that?

there are jumpscares in harry potter

he very much can hide, filch

stop being a narc mrs norris

does harry even know what his parents look like at this point? how does he know who the fuck is in the mirror of erised?? he doesnt have that stupid scrapbook yet does he

oh they nod, sure lets clear up that plot hole

they shouldve put sirius and remus in the mirror in that scene, shown his whole family, wouldve been a nice setup

how does rupert grint already look so tired as a twelve year old

big speech to give to a twelve year old Dumbledore, when you wont even tell him what you see

Emma really does just slam that book on Daniels hand, thats mustve fucking sucked

the fact that ive watched two movies that had Nicholas Flamel in two very different roles this year is very strange to me

well thats probably on account of it being a fucking dragon egg hagrid, now isnt it?

was hagrid a hufflepuff? i think he was, maybe a ravenclaw

yes four, you blonde idiot

that shot is really nice, it sets them apart

what happened to filch to make him such a miserable man?

ooh mention of werewolves, awooo werewolves of london

yeah just dip your whole hand in hagrid, dont be scared of the strange liquid, take a nice little bath

i loev that dog, i want that dog, i want to hug that dog

god just the look of that forest is so bloody cool

wait so is that quirell walking fucking backwards?

maybe ask who the fuck youre talking to before asking other questions??? wtf harry

why are yout talking to the centaur like hes your old friend harry, youve literally never met him before

snape doesnt want the stone at all Harry

god hagrid you sweet stupid man

snape is completely valid for that, if a twelve year old ever looked at me like that i would punch them

Do you think people ever loose invisibility cloaks? like theyre invisible do you think they ever just never get found again

i hate the look of the dog spit, that is so gross

they really left everything in except for the fucking potions didnt they, damn

harry potter walked so queens gambit could run

hermione, posted up

rons stupid in the later movies because he got a concussion as a twelve year old

god harry really posted up to beat up snape in fucking khakis

"I knew you were a danger to me!" Hes twelve, Quirell

let me wait for this weird dude to unravel his head scarf instead of running away

the magic in this movie is real fucking conditional isnt it

just some casual necromancy for the stone? you sure about that voldy, you two faced bitch?

let me choke out this twelve year old real quick

oh yeah why is he able to just avengers endgame Quirell? is there an answer to that? like was that ever found out

do you think voldy passing by him while he hold the stone actually killed him but since he holds the stone hes functionally unkillable and then some magic gets put into him and thats why he can return to life later when he actually goes to the whole afterlife place?

ohhh we're vouching on the blood magic for the endgaming of Quirell

do you think dumbledore came across the vomit flavored bean before or after his sister died?

Mione's got a headband! Looking snazzy!

how did Hufflepuff only get 352 points? Gryffindor literally lost 150 points this year and they only beat them by 50, wtf, is it because they kept getting caught with weed

I wont even speak on the fucking outrage that is this point awarding, its already been spoken on. However, Neville shouldve gotten more points

What if someone just stood up and started challenging Dumbledores math, that would be so funny

some of these extras are really attractive

but james potter is somehow so fucking ugly why did they do that to my mans

hagrid deserves the last shot of this film, i love him, he deserves everything, that stupid sweet man

[purplesurveys]

1264

Who are you subscribed to on YouTube?  Oh man, I’m probably subscribed to over a hundred, if not 200. I’ve subscribed to channels relevant to interests I’ve had over the years, and since it’s not my habit to do spring cleaning on my feeds, the subscriptions have just keep piling up even if I no longer keep up with literally like 98% of them.

Do you like to go to the farmer's market?  I don’t think I’ve ever been in one yet. They aren’t very common here and the ones we do have are pricey and mostly inaccessible to the everyday consumer, I’m sure.

What will (or was) the color of your wedding dress be?  I wouldn’t want any other color than white.

What's your favorite melon?  I don’t like fruits.

What was the name of the last pet of yours that died?  Arlee. Technically my family mostly considered her as just Nina’s pet, but the sting was felt all the same when we learned she died.

When was the last time you wished the day would just get over with?  Yesterday, because it was Friday. Pretty self-explanatory, I wanted to get to the weekend so I can finally let go of work for a couple of days.

Name one person you've never had a fight with:  Andi. I think we’re both afraid of pissing the other off, which works out for us lol.

What are you currently listening to?  I can just hear the really loud whirring of my electric fan because it’s a grossly humid day today.

What would you rather have: cat or dog?  Dogs.

Who is your least favorite person in real life?  I have a lot of uncles I just don’t like.

Do you ever watch anybody's live stream of... anything, really?  Technically, yeah. I will sometimes tune in to livestreams of lofi music on YouTube, but I do it to listen, not to watch. 

Does your house have security cameras?  No.

If you go grey as you age, would you dye your hair or let it be?  I think I might dye it for a certain period of time, but I also think I would eventually reach the point where I’ll just accept it and slowly let go of the dye.

What was the last establishment you stopped going to due to bad service? What happened?  I haven’t run into much bad service, but I’ll never forget how long my order and bill took for Mad Mark’s. I never really vowed per se to never go back there again and I definitely didn’t confront the staff, but I haven’t eaten there since that incident.

What soundtrack do you listen to the most?  Not a big soundtrack listener.

Was there a family secret you weren’t told about until you were an adult?  Nah, they’re kept from us until now. The biggest one I’ve heard about was having a kleptomaniac in the family but we were never told who it is.

Do you have an opinion most people you meet seem to disagree with you?  Yeah, my dislike for fruits.

What’s something you like to have many options to choose from?  Clothes, I guess, like bucket hats. I don’t shop a lot and clothes aren’t a priority in my budget, so when I do pick out clothes, it has to be exactly what I want so that I don’t feel it was a waste of money.

What’s the strangest decorative object you own?  We have several quirky, disconnected decor in the living room from gifts we’ve acquired over the years. One object I can tell you about is the polar bear glass figurine we have on the coffee table.

What’s a thing you couldn’t imagine doing with your life right now?  Dating around.

What’s been your proudest moment?  Managing to stay alive this year and turn my life around for the better when I thought there was no hope.

What’s the filthiest non-pornographic movie you’ve seen?  Eyes Wide Shut, probably.

Do you know anyone who doesn't seem to be fond of animals?  I don’t think so. Like any animal...? I would find that quite odd, honestly. And I wouldn’t want to be friends with them if we weren’t already close .

Are you planning any outings or trips anytime soon? Whereabouts?  No, nothing set in stone. I do want to fly out to South Korea soon, though.

Do you know anyone who has a phobia of a certain animal?  I know a few people who are afraid of dogs.

Is there a particular brand of technology/electronics that you prefer?  Yeah, Apple.

Is there a singer whose voice gives you goosebumps/chills?  Hayley Williams and Jin, especially when he’s belting; and I don’t listen to her much, but I find that Billie Eilish has a unique voice that sounds really nice.

And is there a singer whose voice you simply can't stand?  Selena Gomez for some of her songs, Meghan Trainor for most of her songs.

Are there any authors that are particularly dominant on your bookshelf?  No.

Have you seen any photographs or videos that made you smile today?  Sure.

Which item in your fridge are you most looking forward to consuming? My aunt sent over this gigantic-ass slab of salmon that I can’t wait to eat as sashimi. I already had a few pieces last night and it was hea ven ly.

Has anyone you know got into a new relationship lately?  Hmm, I don’t think so. I know my coworker Dev got into a relationship a few weeks ago but it fizzled out as soon as it started because the guy was shitty.

If you menstruate, do you experience much PMS prior to it?  Only on the emotional side; I rarely get physical symptoms. I usually feel down or emotionally heavy a few days before my period.

Have you ever had a tattoo covered up or added to?  No, I don’t have any tattoos. Can you remember the last time you had a sudden change of mind?  Hmm, like last night. I wanted to stay up to maximize the weekend, buuuut I decided against it and slept instead since I had been up since 2 in the morning.

When was the last time you did something on a whim?  Two weeks ago when I impulsively dropped a thousand bucks to have cheese tarts delivered to Angela and Reena, hahaha.

Were you raised by both of your parents? If not, then who raised you?  My mom, grandma, and one of my aunts were the main people who raised me. Dad works overseas, so he was never at home much.

Have you ever began a relationship with someone you knew for less than a week?  No, I wouldn’t do that.

Has one of your friends ever tried to ‘hook you up?’  Mik tried to pair me with one of his friends just days before I finally implied on social media that I was no longer in a relationship. It was a cool ego boost but I declined, since my emotions were still super turbulent then. Andi tried to initiate sex with me once too, but I also declined.

What is your card game of choice?  I hate card games; I can never seem to understand them lmao, though that’s really more of a me problem than anything else.

What is your favourite books series?  Growing up, I really loved the Septimus Heap series. But the thing about it was that I got into it while the series was still ongoing; and with how bad my attention span is, I always forgot the events/plot whenever the newest book came out. 

So whenever that happened I had to read the entire series from Book 1; eventually the number of books I had to reread/revisit became too many (it was a seven-part series) and I simply just lost the time to read and I never got to know about the conclusion.

Do you prefer landmarks or street names when being given directions?  Street names – more precise. Landmarks to me can be pretty subjective – a green building might look blue to me, and I could just end up being lost.

Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books?  Sure.

What was your favourite gym class moment?  If I genuinely like or already play the sport that was being taught. That’s why PE table tennis was a lot of fun for me.

Do you think that ocean boardwalks are fun?  I’ve never been on one but I imagine they are fun, yeah.

Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks?  That’s not a tradition here.

Do you have a favourite Scooby-Doo movie?  No. I was too young for Scooby-Doo in a sense that I do remember watching the movies as a 3/4 year old as they were kept on in the background at home, but I didn’t get any of the plots/didn’t really appreciate the films.

Do you think it’s cute when toddlers try to run away and fall down?  Sometimes, yeah. If the fall looked nasty I would obviously be concerned.

Do you enjoy listening to your grandparents tell stories of their past?  Honestly, only one of my grandparents would be the type to do this but he’s been dead for six years now. It’s a big shame he passed before I could bond with him the way I had always wanted to. My three other grandparents are either too closed off or too quiet to share stories from their youth.

Do you have a crush on someone? Nah, nothing more than a celebrity crush.

If so... what does his/her name begin with? 

What attracts you to them? 

Do they know that you like them? 

If they don't know, why didn't you tell them? 

Name two people that you miss:  Angela and Laurice.

Have you ever seen Titanic?  More times than I can count. I’m sure I memorize like 80% of the script, too.

Have you ever swam with dolphins?  No. I’m not so sure if I’ve seen dolphins, either. Maybe I have? Or maybe I’m confusing it with whales...idrk.

When was the last time you had a stomachache?  Wednesday.

What's going to bed early for you?  11 PM or midnight.

Do you want to have a big family in the future?  I used to, but I don’t think that’s the future I want anymore. One or two kids should be okay.

What was the last thing you did that gave you a rush?  Technically speaking, an orgasm, I guess?? Lmao idk

Favorite Nicholas Cage movie?  I don’t think I have one.

Have you had your Covid vaccine yet? Which one, if you have?  Yeah, I’m fully dosed. Sinovac.

If you've had your vaccine, did you experience any side effects?  I was suuuuuuper tired right after my first dose and I wanted to be knocked the fuck out, but I went right back to work after the shot because I am allergic to filing leaves hahaha. Second dose went smoothly.

What's the next item of clothing that you intend to buy for yourself?  A bucket hat or maybe one of the Fila x BTS shirts because the collection is actually quite cute!

What Facebook groups have you found the most helpful?  I join Facebook groups to be entertained, not because I actively look for advice.

Do you like your butt? Why or why not?  Yeah. It...has a good form hahahahahaha.

Have you ever personally been a victim of homophobia?  Yes, a few years ago I went to a food park with my ex-girlfriend. I was already not feeling my best that day to begin with, so having to see an old woman stare daggers at us for what felt like years really stung. I felt small under her look and almost cried, but in the end I felt angry that I momentarily felt shame about my relationship. I decided to just piss the woman off on purpose and do PDA right in front of her.

Do you think you’d be happier if you had a pet? I have two dogs at present and I know they make me extremely happy.

Who was the last person you went on a date with?  Gabie.

Were you ever hospitalized as a little kid?  No. The first and only time I was hospitalized (other than being birthed), I was about 12, I think.

What’s your favorite way to curl your hair?  I don’t do that. I rarely style my hair.

At what age did you start swearing?  I was 11.

What is something you physically can’t do?  Ride a bike.

What do like better, apples or oranges?  I don’t like any fruits; but in terms of flavored stuff, I like orange-flavored food, especially chewy candy, slightly more.

Around the holidays, do you hope for snow?  Well, no.

What are your top two favorite bands?  Paramore and Against Me!

How many people do you 100% trust?  There are a handful. I generally trust easily just because I like to believe all people are kind and loyal – but I can also take it away in the snap of a finger.

Do you care what others think about you?  Not so much.

Has anyone ever called you a bitch?  Sure.

Did you watch Teletubbies when you were younger?  Yeah but just super super faint memories. It wasn’t one of my main shows.

Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license?  I don’t.

Could you live the rest of your life without eating meat?  I doubt it. I could try, but I think I’d get cranky and start looking for meat way earlier than I would like to admit.

Have you ever had a rolling backpack?  Yup, if you mean a stroller. I think I’ve answered this on a previous survey.

Did you make any money today?  No, because it’s a weekend. What was the highest place you've ever jumped from?  Nothing dramatically high. I’ve had acrophobia-themed nightmares in the past, so even though I don’t actually have a fear of heights, the idea of jumping from a high place still makes me antsy.

Have you ever gone swimming in a river?  Not that I can recall.

What was the last souvenir someone got you?  I dunno if it counts but Andi bought merch from the AEW shop but made sure to also get a CM Punk sticker set for me :(

Do you have a favorite remix of a song?  Remixes have never been my thing. What do you think is the most saddest sounding instrument?  Piano.

Do you really pay attention to the ratings on movies?  Yeah they can definitely affect the level of appreciation I hold towards a film. For instance, if I genuinely enjoyed a movie only to find out it has average to bad reviews, it invites me to think more critically about the movie.

Do you have a favorite species of wild cat (tiger/lion/cougar/etc.)?  No.

If you had $500,000, what would you do with it?  Give half to my parents and let them do whatever they wish it. With the remaining P12,500,000, I’d probably get myself my own condo and have it fully furnished, then get braces, then get a new phone and laptop. I’ll have a bunch of money still left, I’m pretty sure – the rest of it I’ll save.

Did the last person you touched lips with have a kid?  No. I mean, I have honestly no clue what’s going on in her life now, but I know she doesn’t want kids so this is very unlikely.

"First loves are never really over." Is this true for you?  It’s true in a sense that she left me a lot of trauma and self-esteem issues that will irrevocably always be a part of me now even though I’ve worked hard to resolved most of them by myself.

Did you like Michael Jackson before he died?  Yes, because he has always been my favorite singer’s role model.

What are some things that would make you break up with someone?  I don’t know how to answer this question, honestly. All the red flags were thrown and tossed and slapped into my face and down my throat for six years yet I never left. I don’t actually know what my limits are, and I believe it’s because my coping mechanism has to just accept things and suck them up no matter how bad they get. That’s what I’m trying to change for myself now.

What was the worst breakup you've ever had?  I’ve had two breakups with the same person, and the second one was worse.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #451

“taste the waste of their god’s grace & spit your hate upon your young”

Who are you subscribed to on YouTube? A shitload of people. Do you like to go to the farmer's market? Yeah, sure. What will (or was) the color of your wedding dress be? Probably black. What's your favorite melon? I don't really like melons, actually. What was the name of the last pet of yours that died? Teddy. :( When was the last time you wished the day would just get over with? Literally every day. Seriously. It's funny, I dread fighting to sleep at night, but I also just want it to be time to sleep so time will pass. My life is just so fucking boring that I just... wait for something exciting to happen. Name one person you've never had a fight with: Tez. What are you currently listening to? "Sex Metal Barbie" by In This Moment. What would you rather have: cat or dog? I prefer cats. Who is your least favorite person in real life? Probably my sister's husband. Do you ever watch anybody's live stream of... anything, really? I'll sometimes watch live let's plays. Does your house have security cameras? No. If you go grey as you age, would you dye your hair or let it be? I'll be dyeing it. What was the last establishment you stopped going to due to bad service? What happened? I'm not sure. What soundtrack do you listen to the most? Silent Hill 2's, definitely. Was there a family secret you weren’t told about until you were an adult? I don't know if it's really a secret, but I didn't know until this year that my dad did some really dangerous drugs before us kids were born. Do you have an opinion most people you meet seem to disagree with you? Yes. What’s something you like to have many options to choose from? Food, ha ha. Feels great to have a full kitchen after a grocery trip. What’s the strangest decorative object you own? Nothing "strange" to me. What’s a thing you couldn’t imagine doing with your life right now? One biggie is having a baby. I just... could not imagine. My life would plummet. What’s been your proudest moment? Graduating in the top percentile in my high school graduating class. What’s the filthiest non-pornographic movie you’ve seen? Omfg, Sausage Party. That movie was so gross. Do you know anyone who doesn't seem to be fond of animals? Thankfully, no. I don't even think I could befriend someone who doesn't like animals. Are you planning any outings or trips anytime soon? Whereabouts? No. Do you know anyone who has a phobia of a certain animal? Yeah, like me with whale sharks. Is there a particular brand of technology/electronics that you prefer? Not really, no. Is there a singer whose voice gives you goosebumps/chills? Amy Lee's. And is there a singer whose voice you simply can't stand? Yeah, such as Bob Dylan. Are there any authors that are particularly dominant on your bookshelf? Tui T. Sutherland, but only because I read their series Wings of Fire. Have you seen any photographs or videos that made you smile today? I'm sure on Facebook at some point. Which item in your fridge are you most looking forward to consuming? Does the freezer count? If so, this Healthy Choice grilled chicken pesto bowl I have in there. I am like addicted to them. Has anyone you know got into a new relationship lately? I don't know. If you menstruate, do you experience much PMS prior to it? It varies month-to-month. Have you ever had a tattoo covered up or added to? I had my Markiplier tattoo essentially redone by a better artist. I also plan on getting my "ohana" tat covered, as well as my "how rare and beautiful it is to even exist" one (I adore the quote, but it's not an original design, which I don't like having anymore), and I want to move and redesign my "perfectly flawed" one because I want a bigger tattoo in its location. Can you remember the last time you had a sudden change of mind? Yeah; I'm pretty sure I like-like my friend Girt now, something I was never entirely sure about. When was the last time you did something on a whim? *shrug* Were you raised by both of your parents? If not, then who raised you? Well, I guess both, but Dad didn't do a lot of the teaching part about life and stuff. Have you ever began a relationship with someone you knew for less than a week? No. Has one of your friends ever tried to ‘hook you up?’ Yes. Colleen tried that with me and Girt and only succeeded in making us very uncomfortable. She said something I wanted to slap her for that I won't repeat. What is your card game of choice? Magic: The Gathering. What is your favourite books series? I think my favorite series of all time was the Shiloh trilogy. I adored both the books and movies. Do you prefer landmarks or street names when being given directions? You'd better give me landmarks, ha ha. Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books? Of course. What was your favourite gym class moment? There're such things as GOOD gym memories in school? Do you think that ocean boardwalks are fun? Yes. Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks? No, I always thought it was very flattering that they even wanted mine. Do you have a favourite Scooby-Doo movie? The Phantom Virus one. I had the video game as a kid, too. Could never beat the damn thing. Do you think it’s cute when toddlers try to run away and fall down? No? I don't like seeing children - or anyone - fall. Do you enjoy listening to your grandparents tell stories of their past? So, this really only happened once, and it was coincidentally the day I learned of her pancreatic cancer, but before Mom told me. I had an assignment to interview someone of an older generation about how various sources of media affected their lives, like the development of TV and such, and she really got into it. It was very interesting to learn about. Do you have a crush on someone? I guess I do idfk. If so... what does his/her name begin with? "D." What attracts you to them? More than anything, the fact he's been there for me without fail. Both single and when I was with Jason and he was interested in me, he's just... been there and has made an effort since high school to be in my life in one way or another. Do they know that you like them? Not anymore, no. We dated for a few months, but I broke up with him because he felt more like my brother, so I would assume he doesn't think I do. Maybe he still is family to me. I really don't know what I feel. If they don't know, why didn't you tell them? I might at some point, idk. We just haven't talked in a while. Name two people that you miss: Jason and Megan. Have you ever seen Titanic? When I was in the hospital, yes. Everyone was crying, lmao. Have you ever swam with dolphins? No, but I would. When was the last time you had a stomachache? Now. Mother Nature finally visited me after three whole fucking months and is v angry. What's going to bed early for you? Like 7:00. Do you want to have a big family in the future? Of pets! Human kids ain't for me. What was the last thing you did that gave you a rush? Hell if I know. Favorite Nicholas Cage movie? Ghost Rider. Have you had your Covid vaccine yet? Which one, if you have? Yes. I got Moderna. If you've had your vaccine, did you experience any side effects? I did on my second dosage. I was OUT of it the day afterwards, but then I was fine. What's the next item of clothing that you intend to buy for yourself? I need new bras badly. What Facebook groups have you found the most helpful? It's called "Not Just A Pet Rock (Python regius)" and is a group for advanced ball python husbandry. It is very informative, but I will say there is a SHITLOAD of very rude elitists. Do you like your butt? Why or why not? NO because it's a PANCAKE and I want CAKE. Have you ever personally been a victim of homophobia? I personally think so. When Sara visited and we were trying to go to my older sister's so she especially could meet her, Ash entirely ignored Mom's messages. I know her homophobic husband well enough to nearly be able to guarantee he didn't want us coming over because the kids "don't need to see that." Ash kinda does what Nick says, so... you know. Do you think you’d be happier if you had a pet? I know I'm happier with pets. Who was the last person you went on a date with? Sara. Were you ever hospitalized as a little kid? No. What’s your favorite way to curl your hair? It's too short to do that. At what age did you start swearing? However old I was in 7th grade. What is something you physically can’t do? Clean up vomit lkdsjal;sdkjfa;lkwd. I can't clean up my pet's or even my own. I literally can't. My mom has to. What do like better, apples or oranges? Apples. I don't like oranges. Around the holidays, do you hope for snow? Yes!!! What are your top two favorite bands? Ozzy Osbourne and Metallica. How many people do you 100% trust? Like two. Maybe. Do you care what others think about you? Way too much. Has anyone ever called you a bitch? My grandmother has. Did you watch Teletubbies when you were younger? Omg yes, I was obsessed. Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license? I don't even have that. Could you live the rest of your life without eating meat? No. Not because I don't want to, because I do, but I would have an extreme protein deficit if I did that. Besides meat, I don't like enough protein-rich foods. Have you ever had a rolling backpack? Yes. Did you make any money today? I haven't made any money in a very, very long time. I'm only ever paid when someone hires me to take pictures for them. What was the highest place you've ever jumped from? I don't know. Definitely not very high. Have you ever gone swimming in a river? Yes. What was the last souvenir someone got you? I have zero clue. Do you have a favorite remix of a song? Hm. Perhaps this techno-y remix of "Psychosocial" by Slipknot. I don't know for sure, though. What do you think is the most saddest sounding instrument? Either the violin or piano. Do you really pay attention to the ratings on movies? Nope. Do you have a favorite species of wild cat (tiger/lion/cougar/etc.)? Probably clouded leopards aesthetics, but I think lions overall. If you had $500,000, what would you do with it? Pay off school debt as well as help Mom with various financial issues, buy new glasses, buy Mom and I a new house and car, get Venus a great tank with all the optimal supplies, get LOADS of tattoos, donate to various charities, adopt a few specific pets, travel to Yellowstone, get laser hair removal on my legs and teeth whitening... There are a lot of possibilities. Did the last person you touched lips with have a kid? Just scaly ones. :') "First loves are never really over." Is this true for you? Yeeeep... Did you like Michael Jackson before he died? I didn't really have an opinion on him. I know/like a couple songs, sure. What are some things that would make you break up with someone? If they became abusive, started doing drugs, acted arrogantly, didn't understand my mental conditions and were unwilling to be emotionally supportive, stuff like that. What was the worst breakup you've ever had? Ha, the one with Jason. For. Fucking. Sure.

[crqstalite]

do it for us. [mind blind]

HA yes I’m back again. With, unsurprisingly, more angst for Carmen Wiseman. Sort of sequel to do it for them, where Carmen gets some actual emotional help. Sort of.

carmen wiseman (they/them pronouns) + nick wiseman + salome alavidze. chapter 5 spoilers. words: 1,784

-

Black polish? Really button? Not even a little color?

Carmen groans, while Sally paints their last pinky toe black. No, they’re happy with the pitch black instead of something brighter. Matched their soul at least. The whiskey’s bitter while they sip out of it from a mug, and Nick had already berated them over drinking it, but at least it’s a good indicator of just how well they’re coping. They could’ve gone for the really hard stuff.

That’s not comforting, at all.

Comforting or not, no one said you had to comment either, Carmen thinks back before taking another sip out of the cup, the amber liquid burning the back of their throat, but otherwise numbing the sharper edges at the back of their mind. They’re better than they were when they were first in the hospital, sitting next to Nick’s bed with guilt drowning them like a tidal wave, but that didn’t mean that their emotions were making it any easier to process what was going on. Everything since then has been a blur. The Pollard Five is a welcome surprise, but something about it feels so...wrong. Like they don’t deserve it. Like they lost far too much to get it.

They’re not even sure they want it anymore, not after everything that’s happened.

At least have fun with Sally, after the days you’ve had, you deserve it. Though, you don’t have to be drunk to do it either, Nick responds back. His tone is getting testy, that much they know and it hurts them a little. He didn’t like them drinking, even when he was corporeal. Still, Button, it’s okay not to be okay. This isn’t my favorite situation either. But having an alcohol addiction as a newly minted adult and trainee MIV isn’t a great look. Or healthy.

I didn’t ask you for your opinion, Nicholas, They respond, their hands quivering when Sally hands them the remote. It isn’t as if one glass of whiskey was going to turn them into an addict, but they can’t really say they don’t like the taste. Better than what they’d had earlier at the cafe at least.

Fine, fine. I’m only saying, Nick answers.

Sally’s asking which movie to watch, maybe about Glitch in between titles.

Glitch.

Their cheeks warm at the thought of the man who’d held they in his arms this afternoon. It was nice. Very nice. The kiss he’d planted on their lips they’re still thinking about now. It’s the happiest they’ve been since...ever. He’d managed to loosen the tight ball of anxiety that’d wrapped itself around them for the few hours they’d been together.

And yet, when they split, they still felt cold. So cold. Their fingers are freezing, they can’t sit still. A flash of warmth flickers over their body, a cold sweat seeping into their clothes as they try to wrap their arms around each other.

Nick. Hooked up to too many machines for them count. Still. Not moving.

“Can I leave already?”

They almost left the hospital without visiting. At first, they hadn’t felt bad about the thought. They were tired, had been since then. The sirens had stayed in their head, ringing in their ears like an alarm. The antiseptic stuck to them, even after they left the hospital. All the wires, all the tests. The hushed talking, the grim outlooks.

Nick. Closed gray eyes. No jokes. No nagging them for being overly morbid.

Carmen...

It almost felt like they were watching themselves in the hospital room. They couldn’t bring any tears to spill down their cheeks like any distraught sibling should’ve been able to. They couldn’t bring themselves to want to stay any longer, like they should’ve. They couldn’t bring themselves to be the way they should’ve been, with their brother nearly dead and not even breathing on his own.

Nick. Blonde hair limp against the pillow instead of billowing in the wind when they went out together. Pale skin paler than it ever should’ve been.

He couldn’t squeeze their hand back, like when they were younger, and he would squeeze their’s to tell them that he loved them. They waited so long for him to.

Nick.

Their brother. The one who finished raising them.

They’re shaking now. They can’t get that image of Nick, their Nick, their big brother, their everything, on the brink of death out of their head. They can hear the machines again, they can hear the ambulance’s whine again.

They can hear that explosion again. Blinding, loud. Their phone had cracked.

Taking their brother with it.

A stove-in chest injury.

Trying to put the nearly empty mug on the coffee table, Carmen unfurls themself.

Nick was in a coma. And he’d just barely survived.

Instead of landing on the glass pane, it slips out of their grasp and falls to the ground shattering into a million pieces.

“Carmen!” Sally jumps from where she’d been sitting, removing her feet from the ground and turning to look at them with wide, worried hazel eyes meeting theirs, “Too much to drink?���

They feel more sober than they had been five minutes ago. Painfully so. Everything’s too clear. The TV is blinding them. The fabric of their shirt is rubbing against them painfully, their hair brushing the nape of their neck like nails.

Their toenails are barely dry. Some of it has smeared on their pant legs.

Their chest heaves before they let out a sob, tears filling their eyes and a loud cry filling the room, “I’m sorry!”

Sally looks bewildered, before carefully picking her way across the couch to wrap her arms around Carmen, “Hey, hey, it’s just a mug! We can replace it before Nick comes back.”

It isn’t just the mug. They couldn’t give a flying fuck about the mug.

It’s all their fault. They shouldn’t have left Nick with an angry goodbye, they shouldn’t have let their last words to him have been so hostile. They should’ve just taken the damn crockpot, they should’ve been nicer to him that morning. They should’ve just accepted the damn eggs and hot sauce, they should’ve been better.

They’re the failure here, the crack in the mug.

Button-

Their thoughts are only getting louder and more out of control. Their sobs only match it, growing louder and louder until they can barely breathe, their eyes burning and tears wetting Sally’s shirt.

“Carmen?” Sally asks, trying to soothe them by rubbing their back, “Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.”

“No it’s not!” They exclaim back, and Sally flinches at their tone, “Nick is gone because of me!”

“No he’s not!” Sally replies forcefully, gently pushing Carmen off of them to hold them by their shoulders, “This isn’t your fault, none of it is!”

“He’s my brother! It should’ve been me in that hospital bed, not him! He didn’t deserve this!”

Button!

Carmen only cries harder, Nick’s louder tone making them wince.

I don’t blame you for this, none of it! Whoever the hell did this, that’s on them, not you. Whether we argued this morning or over the phone call, that doesn’t matter and it doesn’t mean you should’ve taken this one for the team. You’re my sibling, and I love you no matter what happens.

I got you nearly killed!

Nick goes quiet, formulating a response before continuing. His tone is calm, but shaking just as much as their’s is. Maybe he doesn’t believe it as much as he tries to pass it off that he does, If that were the case, you’d be down at the police station. But you’re not, because you aren’t responsible. Sure, we press each other’s buttons, but that doesn’t make you the culprit for an accident that is probably the fault of some messed up terrorist, He pauses for a moment, Button, I’m still alive and mostly conscious because of you.

It’s going to be okay.

Is it? Will it ever be? There are so many unknowns and they’re scared.

Sally holds them like that for a while, until their breathing begins to slow. Nick reassures them and comforts them through the rest of it. The credits roll when they finally unstick themselves from her. 

They’re a little disgusted with themselves, they don’t cry. They never do. Nor do they ever have outbursts like this. They shouldn’t. They don’t want to be here anymore, not with their eyes puffy and red and tears still wet on their cheeks that they hesitate to wipe away.

You can’t hold onto all that grief by yourself, Carmen, Nick says, It’s okay to have emotions.

“We -- you, me and Nick -- we’re going to figure this out. You know we will,” Sally gives them a sad, but soft smile, “We’re a team, remember? And this,” She gestures to the pair of them, “Is a team sport.”

She’s got a point, Nick assures them, Can’t exactly get rid of your teammates.

Carmen hates relying on people, they let her down more often than not. They hated team sports as it was.

Okay, well, you get the point, button.

They take a shaky breath, glancing at the shards of glass on the floor, “I know. I’m sorry for...everything.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I would’ve been afraid if you stayed all cool and brooding all evening,” Sally jokes, before steadying her tone, “If you ever need to vent like that again, you can. Always. I’m here for you.”

“I couldn’t put that on you. Besides, there are bigger issues now, with Aeon targeted and all, and I can’t shield you anymore.” I couldn’t burden you with my problems. Don’t ask me to. I can’t. It hurts.

“Yes, you can. And you should. As many times as you’ve heard me complain and vent, I think you’re long overdue to do it yourself,” Sally says. She squints at Carmen critically, “You’re doing that thing again where you’re trying to deflect away from the real problem.”

“What?”

“Sure, Aeon was targeted. But y’know what else? That took a toll on you. And that’s fine. The shielding issue, we can figure that out, but I know you’ve been carrying around so much of...all this for so long. Promise me you won’t do it again? I hate seeing you in pain like this.”

She’s asking a lot. Twenty one years and only know they’re supposed to dump the protective habit they’d cultivated all those years ago? Sally knew them better than anyone, she knows how they are. She knows that they can’t just change like that. They’ve never been mentally healthy, ever, and yet...

It is a lot, and I know you can’t get rid of it all that easy. Though I don’t think she’s asking for you to give it up cold turkey, Nick explains, Can you try though? Try, and do it for us?

Nick’s hopeful voice. Sally’s equally hopeful expression.

They let go of a shaky, wet breath.

“I can try.”

[banjodanger]

The New Mutants(2020): Going Out Not With a Bang, But With a Whimper(and Racism)

I’m of the opinion there are two types of bad movies. On the one hand you have movies that are enjoyably bad. Movies that catch on something of a second life based on the dialogue or the plot or the inclusion of Nicholas Cage. Movies that are such a grotesque misfire that you can’t help but enjoy them. I’m thinking of movies like The Room, Cats, or roughly two-thirds of the Fast and Furious series. “Serious” film buffs will scoff, but if your life revolves around reexamining Godfather for the umpteenth time maybe you don’t understand fun.

The second kind of bad movies are just...bad. There’s no joy in their badness. They’re neither enjoyable as cinema nor as entertainment. Though they run the gamut from joyless slog to actively offensive, they’re always noxious turds. It’s like the difference between a hot dog cart and an Applebee’s. Both are cheap shit, but the hot dog cart isn’t going to lie to you. In case it’s not obvious, New Mutants is an Applebee’s.

Honestly, that should be the box quote. “New Mutants is the Applebees of movies.”-Some tumblr Rando

It’s the most accurate description of this movie. It clearly wants to imagine itself as an intelligent, genre-hopping film, something strange and unique when in reality this couldn’t be more cookie cutter if it came out of a bakery. This movie was supposed to be something new for Fox, a teen-horror film. That isn’t a bad idea, and judging by how Marvel has since marketed Wandavision and Multiverse of Madness, it’s an idea someone thinks is worth exploring. This movie doesn’t explore that idea. It glances at it on the shelf before grabbing a giant fistful of hair clippings and gobbling wildly.

The best horror movies offer a sense of creeping dread that slowly becomes overwhelming, lurking in the periphery of the movie. I’m thinking of movies like Hereditary or John Carpenter’s The Thing. Those movies offer an atmosphere that begins at unsettling and gradually overwhelms its characters and the audience. New Mutants never even attempts. The hospital has five patients and a massive force field surrounding the property, and everyone seems...weirdly cool about it. I assume the movie wanted to show these kids as beaten down but they come off as apathetic.

The part of this movie that really defies logic is what I imagine was supposed to be a memorable part of the film, the big party. A lot is invested into this sequence, it’s clearly supposed to be a big emotional linchpin of the whole thing. It’s also asinine. It illustrates the general way this film treats its characters, in that it doesn’t have characters so much as pawns. It moves them into the necessary positions as the movies sees fit, and the party scene is that in a nutshell. They knock out Dr. Reyes to...party? Previously in the movie there’s a brief discussion of the X-Men and they determine that they’re undergoing training for that. Why not have them discover that information, and then party? You show them as the driven, scrappy young mutants that would make this a franchise. Instead there’s a party because we really needed an extended Breakfast Club homage.

Dani and Rahne sharew their feelings during said party too. I said before I watched this that I was concerned they’d make too big a deal out of this, and I’ll give credit where it’s due, it didn’t feel forced. However, it did feel like I was just watching the trailer of Fault In Our Stars again. Also, I’m taking that credit away because hitting the bare minimum isn’t a reason to celebrate. The movie handled a queer relationship well? Good, ALL movies should be because we’re way past the point of that being a big deal. As if it should have ever been a big deal. I also have some issues with the movie brushing off Rahne’s second brand. I appreciate Rahne showing sympathy to Dani because tragic queer stories are a trope that needs to die in a fire, slowly, in front of other, better queer depictions. But it also doesn’t feel right. It’s never revisited. The movie introduces this horrific event and it can either bring them closer or tear them apart and it does...neither. Bold choice, I guess but also frustrating in that you’ve just chosen zero character development.

Is it possible for a movie to be passive-aggresive?

I mentioned the racism in the last blog post and I’m mentioning it again, because goddamnit, it serves zero purpose. If you needed a mean girl, consult the movie Mean Girls. Ton of ideas there. Roberto and Cecilia are whitewashed in a decision that Josh Boone seemed to be bizarrely proud of because perhaps he’s never listened to the sound of his own voice before. Blu Hunt is queer and indigenous though so...one step forward? Blu Hunt has mentioned being personally happy with how the movie handled it and frankly that’s enough for me. I never found her thoughts on the “two wolves” voiceover and it’s probably just as well.

The actors themselves don’t deserve a lot of hate. For actors like Anna Taylor-Joy and Maisie Williams, they’re good in roles that they likely assumed would go on for the better part of a decade at least. For actors like Blu Hunt and Henry Zaga that aren’t as popular, getting cast in a major franchise like this was probably an easy decision at the time. Charlie Heaton is great, but I’ve got to mention him separately because while his acting is good, no one from Kentucky talks like that before three jugs of moonshine that are for some reason filled with marbles. He’s good in the role but his accent changes and it never sounds convincing. It would have been better to just forgo an accent like they did with Storm way back in the first movie. Alice Braga, as the villain, is present and awake for her scenes. It’s all that’s really asked of her and I can’t fault her. Mr. Sinister was supposed to show up in this movie as a villain, and they clearly didn’t spend a lot of time rewriting her character to make up for his absence. The result is she’s not sympathetic in the group therapy scenes and she’s not threatening as the villain. None of that is to say she’s bad in the role. She does as well as she can in a role that was clearly underwritten from the start.

Quick question, will Adam Beach ever make it to act two of a superhero film? The world waits to know.

Also, someone who does deserve a lot of hate is Marilyn Manson. He’s the voice of the Smiling Men that attack Illyana in the third act. It’s kind of disappointing, because I love the detail of tracksuits and tattoos that recall Russian gangsters. However, Marilyn Manson was already pretty well known as a sleazebag before Evan Rachel Wood called him out by name, and Josh Boone choosing to work with him is just one more gross decision he should be called out for.

The CGI looks the same as it does in almost every X-Men movie. It runs the gamut from passable to trash. It has been a constant source of curiosity how a movie with a budget the size of a country’s GDP can still produce CGI that consistently looks out of date. Something like the Demon Bear can look fine, but Dr. Reyes’ force fields near the ending could have been drawn in and looked better. Some of the shots of Limbo and Lockheed look bad as well. I mean, if you’re going to have six characters you could at least try harder to animate their powers.

Having gotten this far you wouldn’t be wrong in thinking I was going to tell you this is the worst X-Men movie. It’s not. It’s just a perfect encapsulation of how Fox treated these characters at their worst. This movie isn’t bad, it’s mediocre, and that’s even worse. Fox aimed low and settled for less, and if that isn’t a summation of their approach to this franchise I don’t know what is.

New Mutants (pandemic) Box Office:

Budget: $67 Million

Opening Weekend Gross: $7 Million (During a Pandemic!)

Total U.S. Gross: $23 Million

Next: We (finally) talk about Deadpool and Fox’s attempt to get a sense of humor.

[artificialqueens]

Take Me Back to the Start (Chapter 4) - Joley

(read on ao3)

“Are you stupid?”

José pouted and looked down. “I feel like that’s a trick question, ain’t it?”

Not long after the argument at the hospital, he sought out a fresh perspective. He and Silky were very close – even though he’d been using that nickname for so long that he’d get sincerely confused when a teacher used his real one – if there was anyone he thought he could confide in, Silky was that friend.

Silky pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your mans went and had a whole ass fight with Brock and you still didn’t find that shit inexcusable?”

“I’m gonna break up with him!” he snapped before recoiling back into himself. “But then everyone’s gonna think he was right, that me and B got something going on.”

He tilted his head. “And why’s that so bad? Cause y’all had a thing as kids?” His tone softened a bit. “That ain’t a big deal.”

José sighed and tucked his knees under his chin. “It ain’t like that. I just don’t want him to look bad, like a rebound or the ‘other man’ or whatever, even though nothin’ happened between us.”

“Do you want something to happen?”

That brought the conversation to a sudden halt. He hadn’t really thought about it. Or at least, he hadn’t wanted to think about it. It would be embarrassing, he thought, to go back to someone he liked as a child. Why? Well, he didn’t have an answer for that either.

Finally, José shrugged. “I dunno,” he reluctantly confessed. “I mean, it’s cool or whatever that we still get along but like… ain’t that kinda lame? You can’t find someone new so you go back to your first boyfriend… pathetic.”

“I think it’s romantic. Like in a Nicholas Sparks type of way, and I know you a sucker for that corny shit.” He let out a quiet laugh. “You know that’s a white people Hallmark movie somewhere.”

He cracked a smile and looked down. When Silky put it that way, it didn’t sound bad at all. In fact it was kind of romantic. Maybe he had been looking at this all wrong. “I don’t wanna go after him just ‘cause it’s a cute story, though.”

“Then it’s between you and you to figure out how the fuck you feel.” Silky shrugged. “‘Cause if you don’t want him, I’mma shoot my shot. He fine for a white boy.”

José laughed and shoved him playfully. “Bitch, shut the fuck up!”

——

José sat Kyle down on his sofa before sitting down as well, pointedly leaving more than a solid foot of space between them. As confident as he was in his decision, he was anxious as well. He had linked so much of his social persona to this relationship – it was as if he was breaking up with part of his identity. “You know what’s gonna happen next.”

Kyle just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “It’s really some fucking bullshit that you’re taking his side in this,” he huffed.

“He didn’t do nothin’! You jumped him ‘cause you don’t trust me, even though I’m not the untrust- mis- the one that can’t be trusted!” His cheeks flared red and his eyes appeared to darken – now he wished it hadn’t taken so long to reach his breaking point. “I’m so fucking tired of you making everything someone else’s fault.”

“Oh, so it’s always my fault now?”

“Well it sure as shit ain’t never your fault!” José took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of getting overemotional. “Just leave, Kyle. I’m done with yo’ ass for good.”

Kyle scoffed as he got up. “For good, right. You’ll come crawling back around once dancer boy gets sick of you. Not just anyone can put up with that attitude,” and with that, he left, slamming the door shut behind him.

He waited until he was certain he was alone before he allowed his emotions to take hold. Tears were flooding from his eyes and strangled sobs forced their way from his throat. It was a terrible feeling he wanted to avoid – he didn’t want to shed a single tear for him, let alone break down like this.

And this didn’t mean he was ready to address his relationship with Brock yet. There was only so much emotional turmoil he could subject himself to at once. He was so tired of feeling everything so intensely, exhausted after every time he was sent down a spiral. It was something he envied about Brock, he supposed – he could handle so much without faltering, even when he got angry, it wasn’t even close to being on the same scale of Kyle or himself. Maybe everything would be clearer if he had an even temperament, but that was too far fetched.

But now José was left in limbo, and it didn’t take long for it to start driving him crazy. He needed something, anything to distract himself, and he went up to his room in hopes of finding just that.

His eyes fixed on the pile of presents he’d never gotten around to opening. In the days following his birthday, the wounds were still too fresh for him to let himself go through them, but now was as good a time as any. Besides, he knew it’d probably be mostly cash, and there was never a bad time for that.

Overall, his guess wasn’t too far off – he’d accumulated plenty of money, gift cards, and Rihanna merchandise, but something stood out to him. There was a neatly wrapped box with a gold bow on top - it shone and sparkled in a way that stood out among all the paper and plastic. Granted, it didn’t stand a chance against José tearing through it, but the real prize was on the inside.

The box contained a gold, iced-out pendant necklace with a ‘J’ embossed on it. It was eye-catching in a way that some people would find garish or over the top, but not José. To him, it was beautiful, perfect. It was the type of bling and flair he lived for. In fact, he was so caught up in fawning over it that he’d nearly neglected the card.

In contrast to the shiny gift, the card was simple and to-the-point. It was a standard birthday card on the front. “Dear José,” he read, “I hope you have a great birthday, I definitely missed going to them, and it’s so fun hanging out with you again. Sincerely, Brock.”

Oh.

Well, there went his decision to ignore sorting out his feelings. It wasn’t that Brock got him the best gift – that would just be shallow. Rather, it was that outside his immediate family, no one else had gone out of their way to put effort into picking out a gift for him, no one had invested that much care. Shit, Kyle had only gotten him one of those gift boxes from Lush (which would have thrilled him at the time, perhaps).

Before José let this train of thought go any further, however, there was one important thing to figure out. He had to know where he stood with Brock in the wake of everything that had transpired. There was no point in indulging these feelings if they were one sided, and there was only one way to find out the truth.

——

Gym class was José’s only opportunity to set his course of action. With Brock now at cheer practice, this was the only time he would be able to talk to Courtney unaccompanied by her two friends. He waved her over, leading off to the side by the bleachers. “Does Brock hate me? You know, after the fight and whatever?”

Courtney blinked, processing the rapidly asked question. “He definitely doesn’t hate you,” she was able to quickly assure. “He’s… I don’t know, maybe a little confused, I’d even go as far as to say frustrated. You know he’s never been in a fight, this is totally new for him.”

That was fair, certainly nothing he could complain about. If anything, he was relieved – he had braced himself for the worst. “I did break up with Kyle,” he quietly confessed. “He really chewed my ass out for that.”

“Well… can you really blame him for that?”

“‘Course not. Don’t mean I ain’t hoping he’s not still ignoring me, you know?” José pressed his lips together and looked away. He couldn’t articulate what he was feeling, but he hated it.

Courtney didn’t want to smile as he was obviously upset, but she was more excited about the opportunity to bring the two boys back together. “Why don’t you come sit with us at lunch? You guys can hash everything out and hopefully move past this whole thing.”

Even by José’s standards, that seemed a little too simple. But he didn’t see any other option, so he agreed. “I’ll see you guys then.”

The time between gym class and lunch was filled with anxiety and uncertainty. José paid even less attention than usual in class – figuring out what to say to Brock took precedent. Most everyone knew he didn’t have a way with words – he often just said as many as he could in one breath and hoped they made sense. But if nothing else, he owed him an honest, well-thought conversation.

By the time the bell rang, he didn’t feel confident per sé, but he felt better knowing that he wasn’t going in blind. He walked into the cafeteria with a deep breath, stopping only to get his lunch before making his way past his usual table to the much less-populated one. “Mind if I sit here?”

Courtney slid over on the bench and patted the vacant spot between her and Brock. “Sit, sit.” She gestured him over.

Brock looked up, his sandwich still in both hands and in the middle of chewing the big bite he’d taken out of it. “H’lo,” he managed to say, blinking away the surprise in his expression. He swallowed and wiped his mouth. “To what do we owe the honor?”

“I ain’t been feeling right about what happened since it happened,” José decided to dive right into it before he chickened out. “I shoulda seen how fucked up Kyle was and dumped him on the spot. And I did, but not soon enough. I dunno if you’re still mad at me – and I get it if you are – but I’m real sorry.”

Brock took a moment to actually absorb his apology. Part of him wanted to say it was too little, too late, but it wasn’t. It probably never would have been. He strummed his fingers on the table and chewed his lip. “I’m glad you finally came to your senses. I accept your apology,” he finally answered.

José exhaled deeply, a massive weight lifting off of his chest that allowed his entire body to relax. He didn’t realize just how much Brock’s forgiveness meant to him until he got it. “Thanks, B.” He managed to get himself to make eye contact with him. “Really does mean a lot.”

“You can stay and hang out with us, if you want,” Courtney offered when everything seemed calm and quiet. She looked over at Brock for confirmation, but it was clear she wouldn’t be able to get his attention with the way his gaze was fixated on José.

“You’re wearing the necklace,” Brock observed with a soft smile.

José’s hand instinctively went to the pendant, gently clutching the letter. “Yeah,” he smiled softly and looked down. “It’s really… it’s perfect. Thank you.”

“You should’ve seen him at the mall on a wild goose chase for it. Thought we’d be there til closing,” Steven chimed in, then winced as he was kicked under the table. “What? It was like a really intense treasure hunt.”

Red-faced, Brock looked down and chewed on his bottom lip. “It looks good on you,” he said, effectively ignoring his friend’s commentary. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it.”

Suddenly feeling like third wheels, Courtney and Steven shifted off to the other end of the table - not that the other two noticed, of course. They exchanged broad grins and nods of approval as things seemed to finally start to fall into place.

“You still coming to practice today, right? Routine’s finally starting to, you know, shape up.”

Brock nodded, still beaming warmly. “Of course. Can’t let the team down, right?” He nudged José lightly. He still wasn’t a choreographer, but they’d both grown a confidence in his ability to pull something together in time.

José nodded, then cleared his throat. “Coach wants us to have somethin’ to show by next week. Not like, the whole damn thing, but we gotta show we not just fuckin’ around or whatever.”  

The pressure was on then, and Brock had to make a conscious effort to not seem affected. If he started to stress, José would feed off that energy, and everything would fall apart before it even had the chance to come together. “We’ll just have to work harder; you and I can fit in some extra time, right?”

“Yeah. You busy later? We can meet up after school. Gym’s gonna be in use though, so I don’t know–”

“Oh, just come over then.”

It seemed like a reasonable, obvious suggestion. But José felt his heart jump into his throat and his cheeks tint red. “Sure!” he answered before his silence seemed suspicious (silence in itself for him was practically out of his character).

Luckily for him, Brock didn’t seem to notice. “Okay, great.” He smiled.

Not long after that, the bell rang and the two of them had to go their separate ways. Once alone, Courtney and Steven caught back up to Brock, both grinning broadly.

“Don’t say it.”

They didn’t need to – their shit-eating grins were enough to make him groan and roll his eyes. “Look, I’m just glad we’re on good terms. That’s it, okay?” he insisted, regardless of how unconvincing it was.

Maybe it was because he wasn’t convinced of it himself. He had really thought he was getting over his crush, only to realize he couldn’t even go a week without falling right back into it. The only thing that was different this time was the glimmer of hope that it wasn’t completely one-sided anymore.

——

José pushed his hands into his pockets as he looked around the bedroom. While there had been some obvious cosmetic changes since his last visit, he was still hit with a wave of nostalgia.

“Aw, you still got that dent in the wall!” He crouched down and ran his hand over the spot. It was the result of Brock attempting to teach him some of his competition dance moves with less than ideal results.

Brock chuckled and sat at the edge of his bed. “It adds character.” That, and he was the sentimental type. Even if the memory would damage the potential resale value of the house, he wouldn’t want to erase it. “That said, we should probably be careful if we practice the routine in here,” he added with a laugh.

“Hey! I know what I’m doing now!” he huffed, though he couldn’t stifle a laugh. “‘Sides, you don’t get to the top without some damage.”

“From what I hear, you’re not a top at all,” he retorted.

José’s face flushed red. “Don’t worry ‘bout what you been hearing,” he said, then muttered “even if it’s true.”

Truth be told, Brock hadn’t heard it anywhere - it was just a hunch that turned out to be right on the nose. Not that it mattered to him or anything, of course. It certainly wasn’t something he had thought about more than once or twice. “I won’t go around talking, don’t worry,” he assured as he got his notebook out. “Now, what the hell are we gonna pull together by next week?”

“Don’t look at me, you the brains of this little operation here.”

Brock frowned and reached out to tug at his arm and pull the smaller male to sit beside him on the bed. “That’s not true, you’ve got plenty of smarts in this field. You said it yourself, you made your way to the top, collateral damage and all.”  

That made José turn redder than the ‘top’ comment had, albeit for a different reason. He had been complimented for a variety of things over the years, but never for being smart, even when it came to things that he knew he excelled at. That sort of word just didn’t get associated with him. And for the most part, it didn’t bother him - it wasn’t even something he thought about very often. But hearing that - hearing that from Brock - caused a pleasant warmth to spread through him, a warmth he hadn’t felt in quite some time.

“Guess I can’t argue with that.” He shrugged, doing his best to play it off nonchalantly and focusing his attention on the routine. With the background they had built up, they had actually made significant progress in their outline, leaving them right on track to be able to turn something in with the coach on time.

It did come at the expense of taking up the rest of their day - not that either of them seemed to notice, until José finally looked out the window. “Oh shit, it’s dark out. Told my mama I’d be home for dinner, better haul ass home,” he chuckled as he pushed himself to his feet.

Brock nodded as he got up. “Understandable, tell her I said hi,” he hummed as he helped him gather his things.

“We’ll do this again tomorrow, we did good,” José threw his bag over his shoulder and started towards the door.

But then he stopped. He stood in place. Then he turned to face Brock’s direction, his body otherwise frozen in place.

“Did you forget something?”

“Yeah,” José suddenly broke into a brisk walk towards him, an impulse propelling him forward. “This,” he grabbed Brock by his shirt, pulling him in and kissing him hard.

Brock’s eyes went wide, then shut completely. One hand rested on José’s shoulder, the other on the back of his head. He kissed back, losing himself in the moment and allowing years of longing to pour into that one moment.

Neither of them wanted to be the one to break it, leaving them both breathing heavily when they had no other choice. A few quiet moments followed, both of them grinned from ear to ear.

“I really do gotta go,” José finally said, turning to leave and, with his hand on the doorknob, turned his head back to him, offering a wink and a smile before making his exit.

[heyyyharry]

Under The Weather

(from the Flatmate Series)

"Can you write something where fuck boy Harry is Y/N's flatmate in uni and he keeps bringing girls back to have sex, but one day when he comes to her room to tell her he's having a girl over tonight, he finds out she's sick and he just cancels on the girl to take care of Y/N, and you can decide whatever happens next."

Wattpad link

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"Y/N, what are you doing in there?!"

After three more knocks on his flatmate's bedroom door, Harry was losing his patience. He'd been waiting outside for five minutes already, and still hadn't got a single answer from her. He knew Y/N was in there. She'd come back at three in the morning after long hours at a group presentation rehearsal. It was impossible that she'd woken up and left the flat before he did, and Harry was pretty sure at this point, for some reason, she was trying to avoid him.

"Y/N!" He tried again, pounding on the door harder this time. "I'm having someone over. Are you gonna be out tonight?"

Silence was still all he got. This left Harry no choice but to walk in without his flatmate's permission, knowing the lock on her door had been broken for weeks now and she still hadn't bothered to have it fixed.

He expected to see her in bed, because it was Saturday and she was allowed to be lazy. What he didn't expect was an exhausted Y/N buried under a thick pile of blankets, leaving only her head uncovered. That was not just the ordinary ​'I-just-had-a-heavy-workout'​ kind of exhaustion, that was much worse. And Harry knew something was wrong when she opened her eyes, now puffy and red, and started speaking with her skin-colored lips barely moving.

"Sorry. I couldn't speak any louder."

Her voice was soft and quiet which was new to him since he was already used to her grumbling all the time. She told him she didn't feel good and probably would stay in tonight, smiling tiredly in response to the look of concern on his face.

"Don't worry. I'll be in my room," she said.

"Okay..." He simply nodded. "Thank you." And just like that, he exited, closing the door on his way out.

Though he acted like he didn't care about his flatmate's condition, the green-eyed boy still lingered outside her room for a little while, thinking he should've asked her if she was okay; but that would have been unnecessary since she obviously wasn't. Maybe he should just let her get some rest and not worry too much. Soon she might recover on her own.

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Harry carried on with his morning routine as usual. He made himself breakfast and went to the gym, then stopped by the grocery store on his way back, because last night Y/N had told him they were out of milk. Though he'd tried to steer clear of the worrisome thoughts about his sick flatmate, Harry felt terribly guilty the second her name crossed his mind.

Maybe he shouldn't have left her alone in their flat; maybe she got thirsty and couldn't leave the bed on her own; maybe he should head back to make sure she hadn't got any worse. Maybe...No. He really should.

Quickly, he grabbed the last carton on the shelf and headed straight to the checkout counter.

To be honest, Harry couldn't care less about Y/N when they first moved into their flat. He even hated her quite a bit, sometimes a lot, because she was extremely good at driving him up the wall, and he was sure the feelings were mutual. Fortunately, things were looking up for both of them after a few months of living together. They'd learned to tolerate each other's quirks and to see hidden good qualities in one another. They cooked together, ate dinner together, shared stories about their days, like real friends would.

But neither wanted to admit that they were really friends.

"Y/N, can I come in?" Harry asked, knocking on her door once again only to remember that she couldn't answer him. So he just went ahead and entered the room as he had before. This time, he found her asleep.

The brunette carefully tiptoed to his flatmate's bed to see if she'd got any better. To his surprise, she looked even worse. She had her eyebrows knitted together while mumbling something unpleasantly and drowning in her own sweat. Harry already felt the pain she was in just from looking at her, and he couldn't imagine what it'd be like to be in her place. It took him a bit of hesitation, but after a moment of thinking back and forth, he finally placed his hand on her forehead. And just like he'd expected, she was burning up!

Harry might not be a medical student, but he knew that wasn't something you could recover from after a nap. So he freaked out.

He had no idea what to do or whom to call. He'd never had to deal with a sick person before, and he knew none of her friends nor if she even had one. In despair, he almost called one of his friends, but then he remembered none of them would know how to take care of a sick girl. So now he was pacing back and forth by her bed, trying to drown out the sound of her groaning.

That was when a brilliant idea hit him. Now he knew exactly the place to seek professional advice.

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Y/N woke up with a terrible headache and blurry eyesight. She took a couple of minutes to finally remember where she was. The window facing her bed slowly came into view and so did her flatmate's face as he gave her his handsome smile, asking if she was feeling any better.

"Yes," she told him. "Not one hundred percent better, but...better​."

Then she returned a smile.

Y/N didn't smile at him often, and Harry couldn't blame her since he was kind of a dick to her most of the time. Thus he had never got a proper chance to notice how pretty her smile was, not until ​now, when she was sick, with no make-up on. ​

But why am I thinking about her smile? ​He thought. ​This is just weird.

"Did you put this on my forehead?" The girl rolled her eyes upward to stare at the folded cloth. Her question caused Harry to blush hard as he ran his fingers through his dark brown hair, the thing he always did whenever he got nervous.

"Yeah..." He cleared his throat. "You've caught a fever, I think. They said it would help lower your temperature."

"They?"

"Google."

She breathed out a laugh which resulted in a massive grin on her flatmate's handsome face.

"If...if you need anything else, let me know."

"Harry," she called out as soon as he turned away. His name had never sounded so sweet, and this feeling he got right now was brand new.

"Yeah? You need something?"

"No." She giggled softly. "I just want to say thank you."

He chuckled, telling her it was no big deal and leaving the room as fast as he could. He hoped she didn't notice how red his cheeks had turned otherwise she would never stop teasing him about it. But then he remembered that she was Y/N, always too nice to make fun of someone after they'd taken good care of her.

Many had probably wondered how someone so nice ended up sharing a flat with someone so...​not, ​especially when they found out that 'so not' someone was Harry Edward Styles, who had got quite a bad reputation around campus for being a true 'fuck boy'​.

He didn't care what people thought of him of course, not many around him really knew him well. Actually, he thought he had to thank his own reputation for preceding him, because he wasn't looking for a serious romantic relationship, and all those who wanted to be involved with him should know better than expecting just that.

Sure he had a soft spot for Nicholas Sparks' books and movies, and he'd cried over them a couple times...​okay, a lot.​ But it was fictional, ​love​ was fictional. People wrote about it and made films about it because it wasn't real, so those stories would sell. Everyone wanted the things they couldn't have, and in this case, something that didn't exist at all.

Harry thought love was bullshit, while his flatmate would say otherwise. Y/N believed in love, as a matter of fact, she ​adored ​love. It fit her personality though. She was the opposite of him. She was sweet and innocent. She didn’t get drunk, didn’t go to parties, didn’t do one-night stands, and the list went on. This girl was definitely ​not​ his type. She would ​never be his type.

But it'd be a lie to say he'd never once fantasized about her before. Sometimes Harry got off to the thoughts of her naked, and he got aroused by certain things she did, like walking around the flat with only her oversized t-shirt on, thinking he was too busy doing something to notice her, but he did. Even though her insecurities wouldn't let her agree with him, Y/N was a pretty girl after all. So as long as he wasn't fucking her in real life, it didn't harm to have inappropriate thoughts about her once in a while.

Harry would sleep with any girl he wanted, just not Y/N. He knew she was all about feelings, something he lacked or he thought he did. He wasn't afraid of breaking someone's heart, not until the slightest idea of it being his flatmate's abruptly crossed his mind.

"I made you soup," he said, putting the bowl down on her nightstand. "Eat it while it's still hot."

Y/N, now sitting with her back against the headboard, looked at the meal her flatmate had made for her with her eyes widened in shock. She was more surprised by the fact that Harry had gone into the kitchen to cook something ​for her, ​than the fact that Harry had gone into the kitchen to ​cook​. She thought it might rain today.

"It's edible. I've tried it myself." Harry rolled his eyes when he noticed the girl's hesitation.

He sat down on the edge of her bed, waiting to see how she would react after taking the first spoon of soup into her mouth and swallowing it. She seemed indifferent, so he heaved a sigh in relief. At least she didn't spit it out.

"Are you taking care of me so you can have sex in peace tonight?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at Harry, who scoffed in response.

"What kind of heartless monster do you think I am?"

"Oh, come on, be honest. You just don't want me to die while you're fucking someone."

He commented nothing on that. Despite knowing it was only a joke, it still made him sad that she only thought of him that way. He couldn't blame her though. He had never really appeared as someone who would do anything for anyone but himself.

"I'm gonna be in my room," he said after two seconds of complete silence. "I'll leave your door and mine opened so you can call me when you need anything."

"Okay."

"Okay." One last word and he quickly left, bringing the empty bowl with him back to the kitchen.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd worried this much about someone that was not his family. Harry tried to convince himself that he was just doing this because he felt bad for Y/N, and probably would feel extremely guilty if he'd let something bad happen to her. However, deep down inside, He knew if one of those girls he'd hooked up with was sick, he would not even bother to care.

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After dinner made by Harry, Y/N took a bath and went straight to bed.

It was 8 PM, and the girl he'd invited over finally arrived. They stripped off each other's clothes with little talking and soon ended up making out on the couch, with only his boxers and her panties keeping them apart.

Harry tried to focus on the almost naked girl beneath him, who was constantly moaning his name and begging him to never stop. But all he could think of was his pretty flatmate and her pretty smile.

"It's Aria." The girl looked pissed as she slightly pushed his chest away. Harry squinted his eyes in confusion, not realizing what he'd done.

"You called me Y/N."

Harry instantly got to his knees as soon as he heard her. He wanted to pull away, but she grabbed onto his shoulders, telling him to call her whatever he wanted before kissing him again. Now Harry felt strangely suffocated. He didn't want to go on.

"Please fuck me," she begged, all out of breath, hands reaching down to grab his hard length, yet he stopped her before she could make the next move.

"No."

The girl stared at him, eyes wide, mouth agape, utterly puzzled. It only took a second for them to move towards separate ends of the sofa. The sexual tension had been washed out by such awkwardness that made eye contact almost impossible.

"I-I can't do this. I'm sorry," Harry blurted, gazing at his own hands on his knees instead of the girl. He didn't have to look at her to know how angry she was as she called him an asshole while getting dressed, slamming the door on her way out.

Now left alone in his living room, Harry had his head buried in his hands as he began to wonder what he'd done. He'd just refused to have sex with a beautiful girl just because of his flatmate.

"What is wrong with me?" He sighed.

Harry sat in silence, contemplating for a little while then put his clothes back on and go check on Y/N. The girl was still asleep in her bed and she looked much better now than before. As her pink lips curved into a cute little smile, Harry couldn't help but smile with her. So he pulled himself a chair to sit by his flatmate's bed, closing his eyes. In case she woke up in the middle of the night, sick again, he had to make sure he would be right there for her.

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When Harry opened his eyes, the room was still pitched dark. The hands of the clock pointed to 2 AM and Y/N was nowhere to be seen. He freaked out a little but soon noticed she had covered his upper body with a blanket to keep him warm. So he got up and headed to the kitchen where he believed he'd find her.

He was right. She was sitting on the kitchen island with her favorite mug in her hand, feet dangling in the air as she took her time sipping the milk he had bought that morning.

"What are you doing out of bed?"

His voice made her flinch. Her eyes shot to where he stood at the doorway, and she put on a bigger smile, which eased the wrinkles between his eyebrows. It was good to see her so full of life again.

"I was thirsty," she told him.

"You could've woken me up."

"I'm feeling better now. I can do things on my own," she said, rolling her eyes. He didn't know why that eye-roll got him feeling funny in his stomach.

He marched towards the girl without saying a word and placed his hand on her forehead again. His eyes never left hers and she stayed still like an obedient kitten while he was feeling her temperature.

"You're still hot."

"Thank you."

"I'm serious." He scoffed, unable to hide the smile forming on his lips. "Let's get you back to bed."

The girl nodded in response to his request as she hopped off the counter, closing the distance between the two of them at once. The tiny space that kept them from pressing up against each other got Harry all flustered. His heart had never beaten this fast when he stood in front of a girl before, it was usually the other way around. This was very abnormal​!

"Your girl didn't come over?" She asked, looking up at him.

"She blew me off," he lied because she should never know what really happened.

"Did Harry Styles just got stood up?!"

The way Y/N widened her eyes at Harry had him grinning like the Cheshire Cat. It took almost two seconds for reality set back in, and for him to realize how late it was already. He quickly grabbed her by the arms, urging her towards the kitchen door.

"If you don't get enough sleep, you'll get sick again."

"Okay, okay, mum." The girl giggled as she turned her head to look at his face. "Promise me you'll go to bed too?"

He gave her a nod and also his words, saying he'd walk straight to bed as soon as she'd gone back to hers. With another grin she wished him goodnight and good morning, not knowing his heart was pounding so hard it could burst right through his chest. Harry took in a deep breath as he watched his flatmate walk back to her bedroom.

After tonight, a lot of things might never be the same.

[missjanjie]

Branjie Fic | Take Me Back to the Start (4/?)

Title: Take Me Back to the Start Summary:   Everyone remembers their first love. Not everyone carries those feelings from childhood to senior year. Yet Brock is starting his last year of high school while still longing for the relationship he lost five years ago. Meanwhile, José is at the top of the food chain and seems to have it all together. But maybe their story isn’t over yet. Word Count: ~3.1k (this chapter) / ~12.7k (total) Relationship: Branjie (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo) Rating: T (so far)

Read on AO3

“Are you stupid?”

José pouted and looked down. “I feel like that’s a trick question, ain’t it?”

Not long after the argument at the hospital, he sought out a fresh perspective. He and Silky were very close – even though he’d been using that nickname for so long that he’d get sincerely confused when a teacher used his real one – if there was anyone he thought he could confide in, Silky was that friend.

Silky pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your mans went and had a whole ass fight with Brock and you still didn’t find that shit inexcusable?”

“I’m gonna break up with him!” he snapped before recoiling back into himself. “But then everyone’s gonna think he was right, that me and B got something going on.”

He tilted his head. “And why’s that so bad? Cause y’all had a thing as kids?” His tone softened a bit. “That ain’t a big deal.”

José sighed and tucked his knees under his chin. “It ain’t like that. I just don’t want him to look bad, like a rebound or the ‘other man’ or whatever, even though nothin’ happened between us.”

“Do you want something to happen?”

That brought the conversation to a sudden halt. He hadn’t really thought about it. Or at least, he hadn’t wanted to think about it. It would be embarrassing, he thought, to go back to someone he liked as a child. Why? Well, he didn’t have an answer for that either.

Finally, José shrugged. “I dunno,” he reluctantly confessed. “I mean, it’s cool or whatever that we still get along but like… ain’t that kinda lame? You can’t find someone new so you go back to your first boyfriend… pathetic.”

“I think it’s romantic. Like in a Nicholas Sparks type of way, and I know you a sucker for that corny shit.” He let out a quiet laugh. “You know that’s a white people Hallmark movie somewhere.”

He cracked a smile and looked down. When Silky put it that way, it didn’t sound bad at all. In fact it was kind of romantic. Maybe he had been looking at this all wrong. “I don’t wanna go after him just ‘cause it’s a cute story, though.”

“Then it’s between you and you to figure out how the fuck you feel.” Silky shrugged. “‘Cause if you don’t want him, I’mma shoot my shot. He fine for a white boy.”

José laughed and shoved him playfully. “Bitch, shut the fuck up!”

------

José sat Kyle down on his sofa before sitting down as well, pointedly leaving more than a solid foot of space between them. As confident as he was in his decision, he was anxious as well. He had linked so much of his social persona to this relationship – it was as if he was breaking up with part of his identity. “You know what’s gonna happen next.”

Kyle just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “It’s really some fucking bullshit that you’re taking his side in this,” he huffed.

“He didn’t do nothin’! You jumped him ‘cause you don’t trust me, even though I’m not the untrust- mis- the one that can’t be trusted!” His cheeks flared red and his eyes appeared to darken – now he wished it hadn’t taken so long to reach his breaking point. “I’m so fucking tired of you making everything someone else’s fault.”

“Oh, so it’s always my fault now?”

“Well it sure as shit ain’t never your fault!” José took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of getting overemotional. “Just leave, Kyle. I’m done with yo’ ass for good.”

Kyle scoffed as he got up. “For good, right. You’ll come crawling back around once dancer boy gets sick of you. Not just anyone can put up with that attitude,” and with that, he left, slamming the door shut behind him.

He waited until he was certain he was alone before he allowed his emotions to take hold. Tears were flooding from his eyes and strangled sobs forced their way from his throat. It was a terrible feeling he wanted to avoid – he didn’t want to shed a single tear for him, let alone break down like this.

And this didn’t mean he was ready to address his relationship with Brock yet. There was only so much emotional turmoil he could subject himself to at once. He was so tired of feeling everything so intensely, exhausted after every time he was sent down a spiral. It was something he envied about Brock, he supposed – he could handle so much without faltering, even when he got angry, it wasn’t even close to being on the same scale of Kyle or himself. Maybe everything would be clearer if he had an even temperament, but that was too far fetched.

But now José was left in limbo, and it didn’t take long for it to start driving him crazy. He needed something, anything to distract himself, and he went up to his room in hopes of finding just that.

His eyes fixed on the pile of presents he’d never gotten around to opening. In the days following his birthday, the wounds were still too fresh for him to let himself go through them, but now was as good a time as any. Besides, he knew it’d probably be mostly cash, and there was never a bad time for that.

Overall, his guess wasn’t too far off – he’d accumulated plenty of money, gift cards, and Rihanna merchandise, but something stood out to him. There was a neatly wrapped box with a gold bow on top - it shone and sparkled in a way that stood out among all the paper and plastic. Granted, it didn’t stand a chance against José tearing through it, but the real prize was on the inside.

The box contained a gold, iced-out pendant necklace with a ‘J’ embossed on it. It was eye-catching in a way that some people would find garish or over the top, but not José. To him, it was beautiful, perfect. It was the type of bling and flair he lived for. In fact, he was so caught up in fawning over it that he’d nearly neglected the card.

In contrast to the shiny gift, the card was simple and to-the-point. It was a standard birthday card on the front. “Dear José,” he read, “I hope you have a great birthday, I definitely missed going to them, and it’s so fun hanging out with you again. Sincerely, Brock.”

Oh.

Well, there went his decision to ignore sorting out his feelings. It wasn’t that Brock got him the best gift – that would just be shallow. Rather, it was that outside his immediate family, no one else had gone out of their way to put effort into picking out a gift for him, no one had invested that much care. Shit, Kyle had only gotten him one of those gift boxes from Lush (which would have thrilled him at the time, perhaps).

Before José let this train of thought go any further, however, there was one important thing to figure out. He had to know where he stood with Brock in the wake of everything that had transpired. There was no point in indulging these feelings if they were one sided, and there was only one way to find out the truth.

------

Gym class was José’s only opportunity to set his course of action. With Brock now at cheer practice, this was the only time he would be able to talk to Courtney unaccompanied by her two friends. He waved her over, leading off to the side by the bleachers. “Does Brock hate me? You know, after the fight and whatever?”

Courtney blinked, processing the rapidly asked question. “He definitely doesn’t hate you,” she was able to quickly assure. “He’s… I don’t know, maybe a little confused, I’d even go as far as to say frustrated. You know he’s never been in a fight, this is totally new for him.”

That was fair, certainly nothing he could complain about. If anything, he was relieved -- he had braced himself for the worst. “I did break up with Kyle,” he quietly confessed. “He really chewed my ass out for that.”

“Well… can you really blame him for that?”

“‘Course not. Don’t mean I ain’t hoping he’s not still ignoring me, you know?” José pressed his lips together and looked away. He couldn’t articulate what he was feeling, but he hated it.

Courtney didn’t want to smile as he was obviously upset, but she was more excited about the opportunity to bring the two boys back together. “Why don’t you come sit with us at lunch? You guys can hash everything out and hopefully move past this whole thing.”

Even by José’s standards, that seemed a little too simple. But he didn’t see any other option, so he agreed. “I’ll see you guys then.”

The time between gym class and lunch was filled with anxiety and uncertainty. José paid even less attention than usual in class -- figuring out what to say to Brock took precedent. Most everyone knew he didn’t have a way with words -- he often just said as many as he could in one breath and hoped they made sense. But if nothing else, he owed him an honest, well-thought conversation.

By the time the bell rang, he didn’t feel confident per sé, but he felt better knowing that he wasn’t going in blind. He walked into the cafeteria with a deep breath, stopping only to get his lunch before making his way past his usual table to the much less-populated one. “Mind if I sit here?”

Courtney slid over on the bench and patted the vacant spot between her and Brock. “Sit, sit.” She gestured him over.

Brock looked up, his sandwich still in both hands and in the middle of chewing the big bite he’d taken out of it. “H’lo,” he managed to say, blinking away the surprise in his expression. He swallowed and wiped his mouth. “To what do we owe the honor?”

“I ain’t been feeling right about what happened since it happened,” José decided to dive right into it before he chickened out. “I shoulda seen how fucked up Kyle was and dumped him on the spot. And I did, but not soon enough. I dunno if you’re still mad at me – and I get it if you are – but I’m real sorry.”

Brock took a moment to actually absorb his apology. Part of him wanted to say it was too little, too late, but it wasn’t. It probably never would have been. He strummed his fingers on the table and chewed his lip. “I’m glad you finally came to your senses. I accept your apology,” he finally answered.

José exhaled deeply, a massive weight lifting off of his chest that allowed his entire body to relax. He didn’t realize just how much Brock’s forgiveness meant to him until he got it. “Thanks, B.” He managed to get himself to make eye contact with him. “Really does mean a lot.”

“You can stay and hang out with us, if you want,” Courtney offered when everything seemed calm and quiet. She looked over at Brock for confirmation, but it was clear she wouldn’t be able to get his attention with the way his gaze was fixated on José.

“You’re wearing the necklace,” Brock observed with a soft smile.

José’s hand instinctively went to the pendant, gently clutching the letter. “Yeah,” he smiled softly and looked down. “It’s really… it’s perfect. Thank you.”

“You should’ve seen him at the mall on a wild goose chase for it. Thought we’d be there til closing,” Steven chimed in, then winced as he was kicked under the table. “What? It was like a really intense treasure hunt.”

Red-faced, Brock looked down and chewed on his bottom lip. “It looks good on you,” he said, effectively ignoring his friend’s commentary. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it.”

Suddenly feeling like third wheels, Courtney and Steven shifted off to the other end of the table - not that the other two noticed, of course. They exchanged broad grins and nods of approval as things seemed to finally start to fall into place.

“You still coming to practice today, right? Routine’s finally starting to, you know, shape up.”

Brock nodded, still beaming warmly. “Of course. Can’t let the team down, right?” He nudged José lightly. He still wasn’t a choreographer, but they’d both grown a confidence in his ability to pull something together in time.

José nodded, then cleared his throat. “Coach wants us to have somethin’ to show by next week. Not like, the whole damn thing, but we gotta show we not just fuckin’ around or whatever.”  

The pressure was on then, and Brock had to make a conscious effort to not seem affected. If he started to stress, José would feed off that energy, and everything would fall apart before it even had the chance to come together. “We’ll just have to work harder; you and I can fit in some extra time, right?”

“Yeah. You busy later? We can meet up after school. Gym’s gonna be in use though, so I don’t know–”

“Oh, just come over then.”

It seemed like a reasonable, obvious suggestion. But José felt his heart jump into his throat and his cheeks tint red. “Sure!” he answered before his silence seemed suspicious (silence in itself for him was practically out of his character).

Luckily for him, Brock didn’t seem to notice. “Okay, great.” He smiled.

Not long after that, the bell rang and the two of them had to go their separate ways. Once alone, Courtney and Steven caught back up to Brock, both grinning broadly.

“Don’t say it.”

They didn’t need to – their shit-eating grins were enough to make him groan and roll his eyes. “Look, I’m just glad we’re on good terms. That’s it, okay?” he insisted, regardless of how unconvincing it was.

Maybe it was because he wasn’t convinced of it himself. He had really thought he was getting over his crush, only to realize he couldn’t even go a week without falling right back into it. The only thing that was different this time was the glimmer of hope that it wasn’t completely one-sided anymore.

------

José pushed his hands into his pockets as he looked around the bedroom. While there had been some obvious cosmetic changes since his last visit, he was still hit with a wave of nostalgia.

“Aw, you still got that dent in the wall!” He crouched down and ran his hand over the spot. It was the result of Brock attempting to teach him some of his competition dance moves with less than ideal results.

Brock chuckled and sat at the edge of his bed. “It adds character.” That, and he was the sentimental type. Even if the memory would damage the potential resale value of the house, he wouldn’t want to erase it. “That said, we should probably be careful if we practice the routine in here,” he added with a laugh.

“Hey! I know what I’m doing now!” he huffed, though he couldn’t stifle a laugh. “‘Sides, you don’t get to the top without some damage.”

“From what I hear, you’re not a top at all,” he retorted.

José’s face flushed red. “Don’t worry ‘bout what you been hearing,” he said, then muttered “even if it’s true.”

Truth be told, Brock hadn’t heard it anywhere - it was just a hunch that turned out to be right on the nose. Not that it mattered to him or anything, of course. It certainly wasn’t something he had thought about more than once or twice. “I won’t go around talking, don’t worry,” he assured as he got his notebook out. “Now, what the hell are we gonna pull together by next week?”

“Don’t look at me, you the brains of this little operation here.”

Brock frowned and reached out to tug at his arm and pull the smaller male to sit beside him on the bed. “That’s not true, you’ve got plenty of smarts in this field. You said it yourself, you made your way to the top, collateral damage and all.”  

That made José turn redder than the ‘top’ comment had, albeit for a different reason. He had been complimented for a variety of things over the years, but never for being smart, even when it came to things that he knew he excelled at. That sort of word just didn’t get associated with him. And for the most part, it didn’t bother him - it wasn’t even something he thought about very often. But hearing that - hearing that from Brock - caused a pleasant warmth to spread through him, a warmth he hadn’t felt in quite some time.

“Guess I can’t argue with that.” He shrugged, doing his best to play it off nonchalantly and focusing his attention on the routine. With the background they had built up, they had actually made significant progress in their outline, leaving them right on track to be able to turn something in with the coach on time.

It did come at the expense of taking up the rest of their day - not that either of them seemed to notice, until José finally looked out the window. “Oh shit, it’s dark out. Told my mama I’d be home for dinner, better haul ass home,” he chuckled as he pushed himself to his feet.

Brock nodded as he got up. “Understandable, tell her I said hi,” he hummed as he helped him gather his things.

“We’ll do this again tomorrow, we did good,” José threw his bag over his shoulder and started towards the door.

But then he stopped. He stood in place. Then he turned to face Brock’s direction, his body otherwise frozen in place.

“Did you forget something?”

“Yeah,” José suddenly broke into a brisk walk towards him, an impulse propelling him forward. “This,” he grabbed Brock by his shirt, pulling him in and kissing him hard.

Brock’s eyes went wide, then shut completely. One hand rested on José’s shoulder, the other on the back of his head. He kissed back, losing himself in the moment and allowing years of longing to pour into that one moment.

Neither of them wanted to be the one to break it, leaving them both breathing heavily when they had no other choice. A few quiet moments followed, both of them grinned from ear to ear.

“I really do gotta go,” José finally said, turning to leave and, with his hand on the doorknob, turned his head back to him, offering a wink and a smile before making his exit.