#How to get a .com email

[randomwriteronline]

btw still not over @crystaltoa 's whole post on narrative and destiny and bionicle characters being aware they're characters but not in a common fourth wall breaking way. Random thinks too hard two electric boogaloo

Like. The Matoran Universe is a fictional universe within the already fictional universe of Bionicle. Like the more realized version of a book in a book. It's a completely artificial manufactured cosmos where essentially nothing is real - most elements are replaced by protodermis, animals and plants are produced, the inhabitants are engineered and built via assembly lines, their sapience was installed post-completion - and the awareness of this is None. Like Crystal mentions in the original post, the characters know they're following Destiny like it's the rough draft of a play and they're actors of the Commedia dell'Arte, taking on certain archetypical roles and adhering more or less closely to their traits and clichés, but that's where the self-awareness ends because to them this is a performance of life, not a pantomime. The nature of the Matoran Universe naturally prevents any knowledge of or contact with the wider "real" universe, so they remain ignorant to how fictitious their existence is and continue to perceive their own reality as the only possible one (ITS THE FUCKING CAVE AGAIN).

Keep this in mind for later.

Now back to Destiny. MU beings seem to have a tendency to conflate or heavily associate it with Mata Nui ("the will of Mata Nui" being used as a synonym for it, the Order of Mata Nui working to ensure it), to the point where it would be fair to assume that the two are one and the same, or that at least Mata Nui has some agency on Destiny; however, while it's true that Mata Nui is heavily tied to Destiny to the point of seeming its incarnation, he just as submitted to it as the rest of the MU beings are, if not possibly more.

In the narrative of Destiny, Mata Nui is at once playing both the Objective and the Ultimate Hero - not in the sense that he's the platonic ideal of the role, but that at the end of the day he is the proper main character, if not the ONLY proper character for it. The concept of Destiny with a capital D is after all a creation of the Great Beings, whose principal concern and endgame is eventually* healing Spherus Magna: since Mata Nui is made for this specific purpose, Destiny exists to ensure he actually follows through with it; since Mata Nui needs to be functional in order to succeed, the narrative of Destiny converges around him and works to compel the MU beings towards keeping him alive. Thus, as mentioned, he is both hero and objective, protagonist and macguffin.

*dont fuckin talk to me abt the great beings and how they provoked the entire plot of bionicle through their tendency towards inaction and apathy. perhaps ill elaborate one day but the jist of it is that i need to bite them in the ass

This duality intrinsic to his character is made explicit by the constant if sometimes faint separation between his soul/spirit/essence ("him" proper) and his body (a "thing" he only inhabits) - causing him to oscillate between being a person and being an object, with the latter often winning over the former especially while he was commanding the Great Spirit Robot. His exile from this incarnation of fiction into the "real" world doesn't unshackle him from the narrative, which is too far above him from him to be escaped just like that, but it does allow him to take a detour outside of it and come into his own self in a way he's been unable to experience until now - because he hasn't exactly been a character at all, let alone an active player. He is first and foremost a tool, a means to an end; he's less reciting/living a part and more doing the job he's been built to do, and this singleminded and utilitarian approach to his identity seems to have been at least part of the problem in how effectively he could perform his task as it prevented him from noticing the problems which then led into the main conflict of Bionicle. By being forcefully exiled from fiction and having to become "real" he finally surpasses this obstacle and gains the mindset and skillset of a proper protagonist, finally realizing his heroic potential to a point where he can put it in practice.

Teridax, on the other hand.

Crystal has said it before because it is true and correct and right, so it's worth saying again: Teridax loves being the Villain. He's enamored with the role to such a disgusting degree that he essentially hoarded it for himself the moment he found out it was an option and nearly everybody else had to be declassed to Lackey or Antagonist in comparison. It's more than a role or a calling - it's a lifestyle. He makes it his whole personality and reason of being, completely abandoning his original purpose as a Makuta (in direct contrast with Mata Nui, who instead focused exclusively on his purpose at the cost of neglecting his role). He revels in the clichés, the monologues, the manipulation, the cruelty, the ominous laughs, the stark shadows, the drama and theatricality of it all. He likes it so much that it literally makes him stupid.

Teridax runs The Plan in tandem with Destiny in order to usurp it, replacing it with his own design in the same way he aims to replace Mata Nui with himself in the role of Great Spirit. In his mind, these are equivalent pairs: Mata Nui coincides with Destiny just like Teridax coincides with The Plan, so by replacing one you replace both, and he gains power not just over the universe but over the story itself.

Of course, as explained above, this is completely wrong: while he can and does run The Plan as parallel to Destiny in a way that makes them effectively overlap, and he does succeed in gaining Mata Nui's power, he remains a character subjugated by a narrative which is completely out of reach for him and continues to influence how the consequences of his actions will ultimately play out. This is immediately obvious to the reader the second he decides to get rid of all his problems by shooting them into space, completely unaware of the fact that the narrative has already made it so that Mata Nui will have the means to reach his objective, get another physical form, and eventually find a replacement for the body he needed for his quest, rendering the Great Spirit Robot mostly obsolete (which will be part of the reason why, again in tandem with Teridax's need for gratuitous cruelty, it will eventually be bested by the technically much worse Prototype Robot), all while Teridax is too busy learning the commands and terrifying his blood cells to realize his genius idea is going to get back at him and curbstomp him into the surface of a moon in roughly a couple of weeks.

But there's more!

Because the Great Spirit Robot is in and of itself a sort of physical manifestation of fiction as the container of the fictional Matoran Universe, it's effectively the most gargantuan vessel of Destiny available in the Bionicle Universe. As such, it is intrisically tied to the rule that dominates both of the stories centered around it: in Destiny's case, that Mata Nui will always succeed; in Bionicle (a story for kids)'s case, that the Villain will always fall to the Hero.

Teridax proudly, confidently and without doubt turns himself into the embodiment of his inevitable defeat.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Would most people realistically use 'carry' and 'convey' as synonyms in typical speech?? Seems a slightly reaching comparison to me lol

[realnielsbohr]

i hate being stressed about like. things that are actually stressful. normally i could be like "all is well 😌it will be ok no matter what" or whatever but i genuinely cant do that here. if i dont get this sorted out im genuinely fucked

[mumblingsage]

As someone who feels ""i have to answer these stupid questions that seem really obvious because all my professors want me to die forever" in my bones, it can be helpful to remember

The answers might seem obvious to you but they won't for everyone in the class; or one part of the answer might seem obvious to you but a different aspect of it needs some thinking through before it clicks. People learn in different ways and at different paces. (Also, if the answers to the questions aren't obvious to you, you're not stupid! Learning isn't always easy, and you're taking this class because there's stuff you don't know!)

You do not need to write deathlessly beautiful prose in answer to the questions. Depending on the professor, you don't even need to write with perfect spelling or grammar (though these can be helpful for clarity and it's useful to practice them). For some students, especially those who think of themselves (ourselves) as "good writers," writing assignments can feel like a bigger deal than they are because we worry about style or looking polished and smart. In my experience this is likely to lead to tortuously convoluted attempts to be impressive, when basic and boring would be more effective.

Your professor (or adjunct) is going to read and grade possibly hundreds of these, so they will appreciate you writing clear, businesslike prose that demonstrates you understand the concepts. But they're probably not going to remember or care that much about your assignment specifically. Again, don't overthink it.

Most of the above applies to writing emails as an adult communicating with other adults, too.

it's so fucking frustrating to be in college and know everyone uses chatgpt and to be tempted by it constantly while also knowing intellectually that it doesn't work and it's a bad idea. like, i hang out in the library a lot, and i see people using chatgpt on assignments almost every day. and i know it isn't a good way to learn, because it's not really "artificial intelligence" so much as it is an auto text generator. and it gives you wrong information or badly worded sentences all the time. but every week i stare down assignments i don't want to do and i think man. if only i could type this prompt into a text generator and have it done in 10 minutes flat. and i know it wouldn't work. it wouldn't synthesize information from the text the way professors want, it wouldn't know how to answer questions, it just spits out vaguely related words for a couple paragraphs. but knowing my classmates get their work done in 10 minutes flat with it while i fight every ounce of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder in my body is infuriating.

[fazcinatingblog]

When I was at Cabrini Brighton, the nurse came in to ask if I wanted tea or coffee, I regret not getting a coffee, taking one sip, screwing up my face, and saying "are you going to serve this shit to Sophia?"

[ghoulodont]

im scared he wont save it and nobody will have a recording but im trying to decide if that possibility is worth surrendering my entire identity to instagram. which is what they seemed to have put on the table in order to regain entry to my account

[cheswirls]

i get the reason why but it does suck that you can't get asks from non-registered users anymore. tumblr used to be 100% accessible w/o an acct which made it convenient to use. now i feel bad that essentially the only way to contact me (besides comm email) is to make a tumblr

i feel more and more like artists that only allow you to contact them for work thru twt dm. not a good feeling !

[joetastic2739]

Someone accessed my Gmail 2 days ago, compromising my linked accounts like Twitter and YouTube. Here's how it happened, why I fell for it, and what you can learn to avoid making the same mistake:

The scam I fell victim to was a cookie hijack. The hacker used malicious software to steal my browser cookies (stuff like autofill, auto sign in, etc), allowing them to sign in to my Gmail and other accounts, completely bypassing my 2FA and other security protocols.

A few days ago, I received a DM from @Rachael_Borrows, who claimed to be a manager at @Duolingo. The account seemed legitimate. It was verified, created in 2019, and had over 1k followers, consistent with other managers I’d seen at the time n I even did a Google search of this person and didnt find anything suspicious.

She claimed that @Duolingo wanted me to create a promo video, which got me excited and managed to get my guard down. After discussing I was asked to sign a contract and at app(.)fastsigndocu(.)com. If you see this link, ITS A SCAM! Do NOT download ANY files from this site.

Unfortunately, I downloaded a file from the website, and it downloaded without triggering any firewall or antivirus warnings. Thinking it was just a PDF, I opened it. The moment I did, my console and Google Chrome flashed. That’s when I knew I was in trouble. I immediately did an antivirus scan and these were some of the programs it found that were added to my PC without me knowing:

The thing about cookie hijacking is that it completely bypasses 2FA which should have been my strongest line of defense. I was immediately signed out of all my accounts and within a minute, they changed everything: passwords, 2FA, phone, recovery emails, backup codes, etc.

I tried all methods but hit dead ends trying to recover them. Thankfully, my Discord wasn’t connected, so I alerted everyone I knew there. I also had an alternate account, @JLCmapping, managed by a friend, which I used to immediately inform @/TeamYouTube about the situation

Meanwhile, the hackers turned my YouTube channel into a crypto channel and used my Twitter account to spam hundreds of messages, trying to use my image and reputation to scam more victims

Thankfully, YouTube responded quickly and terminated the channel. Within 48 hours, they locked the hacker out of my Gmail and restored my access. They also helped me recover my channel, which has been renamed to JoetasticOfficial since Joetastic_ was no longer available.

Since then, I’ve taken several steps to secure my accounts and prevent this from happening again. This has been a wake-up call to me, and now I am more cautious around people online. I hope sharing it helps others avoid falling victim to similar attacks. (End)

(side note) Around this time, people also started to impersonate me on TikTok and YouTube. With my accounts terminated, anyone searching for "Joetastic" would only find the imposter's profiles. I’m unsure whether they are connected or if it’s just an unfortunate coincidence, but it made the situation even more stressful.

[ms-demeanor]

I don't know how to say it so that people will listen, but if you work at a business you should just accept that *unless your literal job is being the only one who handles wire transfers and you are professionally engaged ONLY in verifying that money is being transferred correctly* any request to wire someone money is a scam.

Our client is working with a company called (anonymized for internet example purposes) "Anaheim Sales" and have been communicating with them at their email, which is, deeply unfortunately, anaheimsales@aim.com

Client has been told by Anaheim Sales to send a check in the mail. They put the check in the mail, then get an email from anahiemsales@aol.com requesting a wire transfer instead. They cancel the check and they wire the money.

Now. A huge part of this is Anaheim Sales' fault. Buy a domain, dipshits. Your business email shouldn't be going to a gmail aim yahoo outlook whatever ass address, it should be going to YOURNAME@YOURDOMAIN.COM because it's a lot harder to scam your clients when you have to purchase YOURDOMIAN.COM than it is to scam them by setting up YOURNAAME@aol.com.

But also. They never should have wired the money. Even if it HAD been from bobsmith@anaheimsales.com, Bob's email could have been compromised. Even if it's in an industry where wiring money isn't something that happens only once in a blue moon.

If you are working at a business and you get a request for a wire transfer, you NEED to make sure that you speak to someone from the requesting business who you either know personally or who you reached by calling a known number for that business (KNOWN NUMBER from your vendor/client records; not from an email signature, and not from their website). If I were allowed to make all the rules, you wouldn't be allowed to make a wire transfer without a notarized request from the accounts payable department of the vendor.

This will slow down the transfer. It will make things take longer. But nobody doing legitimate business with you is going to be pissed if you take a couple extra hours to verify that they are actually making that request before you send them tens of thousands of dollars. If someone is yelling at you that you need to send the money NOW, that is actually when you need to stop and back away and escalate to your boss or get someone else from the requesting company on the phone.

"They said the contact I knew was out sick" cool don't send the money, if your known contact is not available you require a notarized request from one of the company's officers.

"They said they'd cancel the contract if we didn't get it out by this afternoon" then let them cancel you can re-sign a contract, even with a penalty, but you can't get that money back.

"They said that THEIR business was tied up and they couldn't do anything because they didn't have the payment and the check would take days to clear" sounds like a them problem; unless you get a signed, notarized request for a wire transfer you will not be sending a wire transfer.

And if you are a business owner you need to give your employees unlimited permission to say "yeah this sounds like bullshit I need to verify before I move forward" to anything that is even slightly suspicious. Your employees should NEVER be worried that they'll get fired if they say no to wiring money. You should give them a fucking bonus if they cause a delay in getting a *legitimate* wire payment transferred because they needed to get confirmation.

Wire transfers need to be a last resort, and you need to have policies in place that make them extremely cumbersome to use. The fact that wire transfers are immediate, efficient, convenient, and irreversible is WHY they're such a common way to scam people.

Also ffs please please please just set up a real website for your business there are cheap and easy ways to do it that will mean your clients are less easily targeted by scammers because they know that your email address isn't at *AOL INSTANT MESSENGER DOT COM*

[milktian]

Sorry for the spam btw I'm just trying to fix my dashboard jfkslslms things r happening rn

[transboyswitchytales]

'Not Like The Movies Baby'🔒 🎬

🔒Maya Mason x RomCom Queen Reader 🔑

You are the most famous RomCom writer in Hollywood. And Maya Mason is head over heels in love with you. Too bad you won't give her the time of day. And Maya? Well, she's never been one to shy away from something she wants. And Maya wants you and only you. Can you still make the movie for The Studio? Why can't Maya just leave you alone?

WARNINGS:

Sexualy Explicit Stories / Dirty Language / Drugs / People High / Big Parties / Hollywood Tropes / Enemies to Lovers / RomCom Refrences / Yearning / Reader has past sexual trauma mentioned / Reader isn't nice and that's ok she doesn't have to be all the time / Movie Refrences / Maya is obsessed with us / Mommy Kink/ Slow Burn

(Want to read more Maya fics? Here's: My Masterlist) This is gonna be another long story. Let's fucking goooo!

It all started on a random Tuesday in a coked-up, crazy backlot of Hollywood. A place where no love story really begins.

Maya saw you the first time with actors and actresses swarming around you. You had just won another award. She eyed you in your group of bigwigs. You had more known actresses acting gay for you than a stupid bachelorette party in Vegas.  

You smiled as Julia Roberts gave you her signature laugh. But Maya saw it, as everyone was distracted, your face fell. And then you pasted it back on quickly as Chris Evans refilled your champagne and told you another bad joke. 

But from that moment on, something about you just stuck with Maya. At frist she’d tried to find a look a like, fuck some nobody and get it out of her system. But as your look alike was kissing Maya’s neck, Maya whispered your name. Said poor girl freaked out and Maya looked into her dates eyes and didn’t see you, and she ended the date then and there. Paying for the girls Uber. And going home alone.  

That was a few months ago, and Maya had set up her Google alerts to any news on you. New movie rumors, sure, but dates you go out on, sightings of you on vacation, anything she could find really. 

When Matt excitedly told Maya and the team that he’d bought one of your new scripts, everyone was excited, and Maya froze on the spot. 

Patty was the first to notice this.

“Maya, aren’t you excited we got the Ravishing Rom-Com Lady herself!” Patty said only seeing another Golden Globe in her future. Maya quickly plastered a look on her face for the team. 

“Of fucking course! We’re gonna make so much fucking money with this girl! When is she coming in?” The last part didn’t hold the same excitement. 

“Uh, tomorrow I set up the meeting.” Matt said and Sal jumped up and down in excitement. 

“Dude when she wrote ‘Days of Delight’ with fucking Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson! Fuck that’s their best movie!” He squealed like a little girl. 

“How to lose a guy in ten days was good, but Days of Delight is fucking quoteable and it grossed twice as much!” Matt pointed out and the two of them quotes the movie to each other over and over. 

Maya didn’t stay, she grabbed her ipad and Stanely cup and went to figure out how she was going to score a date with the rom com queen. 

When you came in, Maya surveyed your outfit and was so impressed she felt outdone. But she stared at your ass as you shook everyones hand. 

When Maya reached her hand out you look down at it and then turned to Patty and started to talk. Everyone noticed, how could they not, you snubbed Maya Mason. 

“Patty I read your email, I’m almost done with the script. I enjoyed your notes, I think the side plot of the best friend is wonderful to change. But I was hoping we could cast Kathryn Hahn as a lead, not the friend in this film.” You told Patty and they all sat, and Maya cut in front of Quinn to sit next to you. 

You don’t look at Maya. 

“But she’s kinda a girl next door look no?” Matt tries and you disagree with him immediately. 

“I know you are used to having her in comedy roles in your Studio, but she’s very dynamic. I know she can show the turmoil of this broken, raw,  feeling I need for this role. So she’s my first choice. And I do have her number, she said she would be interested in reading it. I just wanted to make sure we gave her first looks.” You explain and Sal is scribbling notes which everyone thinks is ridiculous.  

They all talk for about twenty minutes about how much they love the script and the yearning core you are going for. Maya’s eyes never leave you. Just as you are standning up Maya cuts in and finally asks;

“Kathryn Hahn is very in right now with lesbians, but what about your leading man?” Maya asks and you ignore her and turn to look over her at Quinn. 

“Can you email me the timeline on advertising.” You say and all eyes look to Maya who is pissed and so turned on. 

But you walk out after shaking Matt’s and Patty’s hand and then turn on your leather boot heel  and walk out. Maya leaves her stuff and runs after you. She hears Sal saying ‘damn burn’ and she yells loud enough for the entire floor to hear her, turning over her shoulder to call his ‘dick floppy and his wrinkly scrotum matches that of E.T.

People laugh but she doesn’t care, she’s almost sprinting to catch you.   

“Hey! WAIT!”

You don’t turn to her and so she walks in front of you and blocks your path. 

“What did I do to deserve all of that sweetheart?” She says and your face turns even colder at the nickname.

“Ms. Mason-” You start as if you are already exhausted from having to speak to her. Maya is floored at how much of a dislike you have for her. 

“Maya, It’s Maya, please come on. I’m head of marketing on your movie. You can’t even look at me?” The older hollywood head says to you. 

“Ms. Mason, your reputation is…” You trail off and Maya has the nerve to look proud of her reputation. Though your face doesn’t mirror the pride she seems to feel for what people say about her. The fear she evokes. 

“So you hold whatever that was against me?” Maya finishes the thought for you. 

“No, actually it’s just….” You are working so hard to be civil and Maya doesn’t like all this stupid pussyfooting around. So when she tilts her head to the side and decides to lay on the rizz. 

“So are you jealous baby? You don’t wanna have a good time too?” She says and your bullshit attempt at staying aloof but professional goes out the window. And fuck does your anger turn Maya on. 

You chuckle like a villain in a movie. Before saying what you really think. Maya would have paid good money for this kind of humiliation. 

“I’ve met so many of you, you know that right? That you aren’t anything new. I respect your job, I respect your studio. Which is why I’ll sell you the rights to my movie. But Maya Mason, make no mistake. I see you. You wear more labels than a NASCAR driver. You say the most ‘lit’ terms and you have your hand on the pulse of social media. You probably know when Angelina Jolie’s sex tape drops before Brad Pitt. But here’s the thing, I don’t like you. You like cheap stimulation, you reak of one night stands, and reused pick-up lines. We have nothing in common. You are everything that’s wrong with this industry..and honestly this town.” You say and you feel such relief in not having to play nice in the sandbox. You expect Maya to retaliate or say her studio won’t make your movie anymore. 

You don’t expect her to laugh and Maya to look giddy at you. 

“Damn, my mother should take notes from you. I think my past therapist took six months to gently tell me a word of what you just said in five seconds. Fuck you are something else Miss RomCom, let me buy you a cup of coffee? Or there’s this great bistro?” Maya flirts and your eyebrow twitches. Before you sneer realizing what this is. 

“Mason don’t do this.” You say like she’s being stupid. 

“What! You might actually find the conversation stimulating! I could surprise you. What with my original pick up lines. Come on baby?” Maya says and you pull your phone out to see a text.  

“I don’t have time for this.” You say like you are telling a toddler you can’t possibly play Barbies right now. 

Maya makes a mental note that she’s never felt more alive. Fuck gentle banter at a bar, you had her veins lighting up more than any drug she’d ever taken. 

“For coffee? Or lunch?” Maya says like it’s innocent. 

But you put your phone down and glare again. You feed her another round of insults. 

“For your games. I’m not here for this. Please do me a favor, don’t take this as me challenging you. It’s so toxic, just like whatever you are probably thinking right now. Marketing head Mason, you are so predictable. We aren’t kids on a playground. You want me because I’m not interested and that’s gross. Listen, I could tell you a bunch of cliche shit. You aren’t my type, I’m not looking for what you are right now. Whatever you want to hear. But the truth of it is, I’m not interested. And you are so not used to being turned down by a girl…that you think that means you should push harder is just so…predictable. Just leave me alone, go fuck a model or an assistant or some new actress. Someone who’s never heard of Virginia Woolf or Margaret Atwood, who thinks classic music is Harry Styles. Ok? Call me a snob to your buddies, and do a line in the bathroom like everyone else.”

You say and Maya just smirks. Her voice drops an octave and she stepps forward and you try not to let the power play show that you are actually having fun now. 

“You think you got me all figured out sweetie?”

You don’t let this nickname thing keep going, it’s so worn out. You practically make the same face Anne Hathaway does leaving the gross hotel suite in Paris in Devil Wears Prada. ‘I’m not your Baby.’ The line plays in your mind and you channel that energy as you say it to Maya. 

“I’m not your sweetie Mason. I’m just another writer in this town. I’m nobody to you, ok? Sell my movie, that’s great. I’m grateful for all you are going to do. I’m sure you will do a wonderful job. But I don’t want your coffee or cheap tricks in bed. I’m sure you’ll be one of those pillow princesses, anyway. If I wanted cheap sex and to be left unsatisfied I’d go to any bar in town and pick up a vapid straight man. I don’t have time to draw you a map to my clit and teach you what clockwise means. You seem like a boring lay.” You say and you feel, like Maya, the most alive you had in a long time. 

This was so much better than pretending to laugh at an actors shitty joke while wearing a designer dress you can’t breathe in, at a party you never wanted to go to. This was practically therapeutic. 

You tried to push down the thought that this would come back to haunt you later. 

Because Maya stepped forward again and you were sure she was just as turned on as you. 

“Wanna bet?” Maya says and she get’s a little closer to your ear to whisper it, her breath teases your skin. But you don’t take the bait and move away. You keep your expression unfazed. 

“I don’t have the time to waste. I am looking for someone who has read a book, can hold an adult conversation. Not a vain girl who’s main news outlet is Twitter, or X or whatever it is this week. I want someone with an IQ over the legal drinking age, not to sit with you as you scroll through Tik Tok. I’m so not your type Mason. Thank you for the meeting. I’ll try to be kinder now that we both understand each other.” You put your gentle face back on, the one you’d practiced. Maya for the first time looks upset, not liking you putting your claws away. 

You think of that Taylor Switft song and you want to tell Maya why you can’t be yourself any more. You have to put it all away.; I was tame, I was gentle 'til the circus life made me mean."Don't you worry, folks, we took out all her teeth"

Maya seems to read you and she also puts on a facade.

You put your hand out, it’s meant as a sort of truce. You both got to play, and now you both had to pretend again. You could pretend all day, but Maya was a master at manipulation. She knew this game you were playing and wouldn’t be fooled. 

So Maya takes your soft scarred hand and then leans down and kisses it, her lips are so soft. The lipstick no longer sticky on her lips, she smells of expensive perfume and money. And you almost close your eyes to enjoy the feeling, but you won’t allow it. You let her touch you, because you don’t have the strength to deny her that. But as she stands back up you slap another glare at her. 

Maya only seems amused at your attempt, and you wonder if you are losing your touch.

“I hope you aren’t kinder, what a waste fake pleasantries are. You busy tomorrow night?” Maya releases your hand and smiles and you scoff at her and turn around. So she calls out behind you. 

“How about Friday?” She yells and you walk to your car. 

Quinn comes from around the corner. 

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone tell you…no. That was kinda pathetic. She really told you off.” Maya didn’t say a word to Quinn though, in her head she was already planning your wedding together. 

She mumbles as she can no longer see you, ‘What a woman.’

_______

That’s how it was for a month. Maya sent you flowers, chocolates, weed care baskets, she sent you invites to parties and endless expensive gifts. In turn you gave no indication to any of her advances. You returned the expensive gifts, and Maya had heard it from someone on the lot that you tossed every flower out. 

But Maya wouldn’t be easily ignored. 

You worked through Quinn when you needed to tell Maya something. Maya threatened Quinn one day with a letter opener for your phone number, but she swore she didn’t have it. That you came in person to talk to her. She was shaking like a leaf when Maya rolled her eyes and stabbed the letter opener into her wood desk and walked out.

The whole lot figured out quickly the tension and Maya was like ‘Pavlov’s Dog’ she was so hungry for you. She stopped dating, she stopped social media scrolling, it did feel like….cheap stimulation. Just like you had said. 

That weekend Maya got a new google alert about you. 

She instantly wished she hadn’t looked.

Because this was the first time she’ seen you out on a date. 

The picture made her skin crawl in jealousy. 

It had you on a date…with the stunning and funny Aubrey Plaza. 

Maya felt nauseous, ready to throw up her Hailey Beiber 20 dollar strawberry smoothie. But Maya read the whole article. And then she saw Aubrey had taken you to a famous bookstore in L.A. Maya screenshotted every photo…you laughing as Aubrey touched your cheek gently. And after she zoomed in on your face, Maya moved down to see the book you had bought. 

She threw the phone onto her sofa and wondered if she needed to smash all her crystal wear in the L.A mansion. 

Maya sat on her sofa and bit her acrylic nail in anger. Before rolling her eyes and getting into her expensive Benz. Driving an hour and a half to the stupid book store across town. She walked up to the pimply teenager and asked for the book. 

“Do you have Gone with The Wind?” She growled and he gulped obviously intimated by her screaming at him. But ne nodded and ran across the store to get it. 

That’s how it started. Your little book club together. Not that you knew what Maya was doing. But Maya liked to imagine you were trying to communicate via all these books. 

She read; Mrs. Dalloway, Their Eyes Were Watching God, A Raisin in The Sun, Camilla, Giovani’s Room, Carol, and so many more.  

Maya kept sending you expensive sentiment, understanding that you couldn’t be bought. But unsure of how else to get to you.. and you in turn.. kept ignoring her.

 For a whole month you worked on the filmset, but Maya steered clear of you on the lot.  She knew she needed to hatch a better plan. This wasn’t the way to your heart. 

Yet every weekend Maya would lose her mind all over again. 

You were photographed with Aubrey Plaza the most you two seemed to love going to record stores, bunch places, and book stores. Frequenting even once a sex toy store. It was enough that it made Maya throw a retro Versace vase across her foye. It shattered into a million pieces and Maya still felt like she wanted blood. 

 But it wasn’t just Aubrey, you were photographed with; Sandra Bullock, Marisa Tomei, and Anne Hathaway. It was ridiculous. 

 All brunette, all powerful and strong women, all 40 and over. You liked women older than you… Woman who held power and intellect. 

 Maya felt like you were taunting her. But you always had a book in your hand as you went on lunch outings and late night drinks. 

Paparazzi followed you like dirty hound dogs sniffing a scent. They called you ridiculous names ‘ Little Lady Ephron,’ Shakespeare Secret Harlot, Bridgett Jones’s Slutty Muse, Lesbian Bradshaw, Gary Marshall’s Concubine.’  And Maya ate up every article they made.

Maya needed to know more about you.

Everytime a new story released she’d buy the book you had in your hand in the photo. She’d read it in a day, unable to put them down.. and then one slow night she went into her theater room. No new TMZ story about you this weekend, no new book, so she’d been bored. 

And Tik Tok felt like it no longer held Maya’s attention. 

Opening the Instagram app she looked your name up and found no account, of course. Sighing she threw the phone down and picked up the remote.  

Maya couldn’t even remember the decision, but she rented every singel movie you’d ever made. She watched them all over the course of a  week. Maya was ashamed to say she cried and laughed and felt like she’d been on a rollercoaster. But every film she watched, Maya found herself even more in love with you. Not just your beauty in those TMZ photos, not your great choice in books. 

But the way your mind told a story. 

The way you wrote about humanity and two people finding solace in one another. 

‘The Queen of Yearning’ now that made sense for you, that’s what your fans said. And Maya found that she hung on every word you wrote for your films. 

So two months in Maya was about to call the florist to do your daily flowers to be sent to your side of the lot.. when she hung up. Instead opening her laptop in her office she decided on a different present. 

Maya felt like after watching all of your movies, and reading your weekly book recommendations…Maybe it was time to send you one of her favorite books.

So when Maya left that night she opened her designer bag to get her keys she really wasn’t expecting you to yell at her. 

“MASON!” 

She jumped and turned around. 

You were holding the book up, like this was Hamilton and it was the Reynolds Pamphlet. It was dramatic to say the least and Maya realized how much she missed you. 

Maya was famous for being big and dramatic, it was fun to see you do it too. Even though Maya was clear you didn’t like that fact about yourself.  

“The fuck is this?” You say and you walk across the lot, your black boots clicking on hot L.A cement. Maya had to admit, the whole of Hollywood thought you were this big mush. Timid and romantic obsessed, completely without bite. You wrote all these big love declaration scenes. And yet to Maya you were like a fucking rotwiller. She’d never met anyone with more layers, it was intoxicating. 

You stalked forward and pushed the novel against her chest. Maya grabbed it and flipped it over, already knowing what she’d done. 

“Well, it’s a book Austen.” Maya hadn’t called you baby or sweetie this time. Remembering the look she’d received last time. 

“What did you call me?” You glare raising your voice at her like she’s mocking you now. A few people on the lot turn to stare. 

Maya could care less, she’d not gotten to talk to you in two months. 

“Oh yeah, you got a new nickname. You are the new Jane Austen. Pretty big praise, you do that yearning thing like Pride and Prejudice. Which is a little wrong, since you don’t do time pieces. Not much for the sandals and horses as Rebecca Ferguson calls it. But the marketing team heard it from TMZ. So it caught on.” Maya says and she’s not answering your question. 

“So you gave me another shitty nickname? Thanks I guess?” You shake your head and Maya eyes you curiously. Something seemed off about this exchange, not that she had many to go off of. But you seemed more frantic then the first verbal game of chess you two had played. Maya made a calculated move to not scare you away. She lowered her voice and didn’t push as hard back as she’d wanted to.

“You refuse to call me Maya, so I guess we both get nicknames.” She says it with no real challenge in her voice and you can’t figure her out as you stare at her. Maya keeps holding the green novel. You point at it. 

“The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, why did you send me this book?” You ask. 

“I figured you’d read all the old classics. I thought…you might like that..It’s my favorite well one of my favorites. I like the long yearning in it.. like your movies. But there’s something beautiful about loving someone and just…Being so..devoted? I mean there’s also that toxic hollywood shit we deal with on a day in day out, which is written well in this.” Maya says and you look at her like she’s grown another head. 

This wasn’t Maya Mason. Maya threw shit at assistants, she did coke off of Miley Cyrus once. Maya was feirce and gorgeous yes, but no one had ever seen her read a romantic anything..You were so confused and then the reminder that this was all fake hit you. 

“What is this, some game to you? You couldn’t get into my pants with the flowers so you what?”

“Holy shit Austen is it your favorite book too?” Maya was not stupid, and you had to admit that. Even if it hurt you. You tried to shield your emotions from her. 

You’d been trying to get the rights to the book so you could screen play it and make it into a fucking movie for the past four years. 

But you couldn’t say that. 

You looked at Maya Mason for a second, fuck she was gorgeous. 

You had to fake it with so many people in Hollywood. You didn’t ever fake your disgust with Maya, and that was kinda nice. But you wouldn’t do this with her. So you bit your bottom lip and made up your mind. You point at her putting your walls up high. 

“Mason, leave me alone. I’m not another notch in your belt, or something for you to brag to Sal and Quinn about. You don’t get to fuck me up on drugs and then fuck me in front of your shitty friends or some shit. I’m not a toy! Ok, you don’t-” You say and Maya looks genuinely concerned that you thought of that. Wondering if that happened to you. And you can’t stand her concern. 

Let her be Maya again, let her say the crude thing. Let her throw her power around, don’t have her look at you like you matter. That is too much to take. 

“Hey, woah. I’m not trying to do that. I just want you to let me buy you dinner. You seem to think you have me all figured out but..Who did that to you? I swear they’ll never work in this town again..you tell me the name and it’s done!” Maya scowled in anger at the very idea of it. You throw your hands up to stop her and she doesn’t want to drop it but she listens for now. 

“Mason, is that really your favorite book or is this some kinda sick thing you figured out about me? You pay my ex or stalk me or something?” You try to think of all the worst case scenarios now. 

“Damn, who the fuck did this to you. You write the most amazing love stories…did all of that happen? Or are you..are you really are afraid of love?” Maya asks and your body flinches and she wishes she could take it back instantly. Maya had never spoken to anyone this way and it felt foreign, but the horror on your face says she’s done it wrong. This was not how intimacy worked for you evidently…Maya had just learned what intimacy was, and it was new for her too.

“Fuck you!” You shout, turning around and Maya panics and she shouts after you. 

““You do not know how fast you have been running, how hard you have been working, how truly exhausted you are, until somewhat stands behind you and says, “It’s OK, you can fall down now. I’ll catch you.”” 

Maya looks around at a few people staring at her, but she doesn’t care. It’s not something she’d say to anyone, ever. But she quotes the book in the hopes you’ll come back. 

Two months of wanting to talk to you was hard, Maya did like instant gratification.  

You stop and Maya waits, afraid if she approaches you you’ll run. 

But you surprise her by turning around and walking back to her. 

“Maya, just forget about me. I’m nothing special. I write all this crap. But that’s where it ends ok?” The head of marketing loves her name on your tongue, but she hates what you are saying. 

“You can’t mean that. You are lying. You are so talented. No one can write that and then…then believe..” Maya says and you both let the thought sit there. You clench your fists and Maya wonders why you don’t believe her. 

“Goodnight.” You whisper and then leave her standing there in all her sexy designer glory. 

Maya opens the book to the front page, where she’d wrote the note this morning. Her fingers trace over the letters before she sighs and throws the book into her bag. 

Going to her car she blasts her bad ass boss playlist. She curses as the song ‘INTIMACY ISSUES’  plays. Finger hovering over the next button.  

Always on the low

'Til I'm with a guy

Distracting my mind

Hope they do not mind

I need to get high

So I put a record on

Then I roll

Then I smoke

I just need someone who listens

I just need somebody close

Keep it simple

Keep it sweet

I won't be that girl you need

'Cause I'll be writing love letters

'Til my fucking wrists bleed, oh

High off nicotine

While they're asking about my dreams

Don't remember, don't remember

I've been smoking too much weed, oh

I don't want the intimacy, ooh

Don't lie to my face and tell me you will never leave, ooh

Please, I don't want the intimacy 

Maya screams at the top of her lungs and slams her strong palms against her steering wheel over and over. Turning off the stupid song and then speeds off cutting people off in traffic. 

______________________________________________________ 

Maya see’s you three nights later at a big party, it’s not where she’d expect you. You were obviously there to rub elbows with the rest of the big wigs. And Maya saw that look again, the one that made her so curious about you in the first place. 

You had leaned over the bar, top of your breasts on display. Your ​​cleavage was a sight.

 You held a twenty between your fingers and asked for a drink and your face fell to the side, and then Maya was caught staring. You found her familiar gaze, more of a comfort than you’d expected and you scanned her outfit for a minute, before you nodded once. A small nod, but it was better than Maya had gotten from you…well ever. 

Maya wonders if this is her shot, her chance to talk to you, really talk. Tell you how she feels.  

The bartender handed you a strong drink and you melted back into the party before Maya could cut through the crowd and say hi. 

A few hours pass and she doesn’t see you again. 

Maya was talking to another studio exec when she heard someone yell and then a streak of your hair comes into view as  you shove a tall man roughly against a wall away from you. The jackass crashes into one of the ugly modern paintings that line this expensive mansion. 

He curses at you ‘Fucking cunt! You write all that crap because no one wants to fuck you!” 

It’s not unique, and you don’t care about him or the people watching at this moment. 

You just laugh manicly and look down at your now ripped dress, what a prince charming this guy was. 

But Maya didn’t need to see another second of this show.  

She didn’t even politely excuse herself, she pushed her martini into Matt’s hands and rounded to where you were. 

But the guy didn’t take your shove as the final act of this show.  

The upcoming Netflix special starring actor had the nerve to lunge at you, upset at being embaressed.

 Maya was faster though, she kneed him in the balls and he cried out and fell over. Grabbing his genitals like they might have just burst, Maya hoped they had. 

 She stood over him with her sharp heels and killer outfit. His perfect curls falling into his face as tears formed in his eyes, his perfect jawline was next to Maya’s heel. And she stopped herself from putting her shoe on his face, leaving that pretty indent of her stiletto heel against his sculpted cheeks.

 Flicking her hair over her shoulder. The music scratched and everyone got quiet.

A Maya fight was always a fun thing at a party, talked about for years after. Even though it happened more often than not. 

“YOU BITCH!” The actor who’s name Maya couldn’t place wheezed. But she bent down and let the toe of her heel move under his chin so he was looking up at her. 

You were watching, everyone was watching.  

“You limp dick-nepo baby bastard, your whore mother should have swallowed you and done this town a favor. You just ended your career pretty boy. Not even Daddy can bail you out now. Don’t ever come near her again.” Maya spits and it hits his face as he is holding his crotch in pain. 

You tried not to get turned on at the sight, honest you did. 

But you were brought back to reality as a flash went off in your face.  

People took photos on their smart phones like they couldn’t wait to post it. Keanu Reeves clapped and shouted ‘Go Maya!’ 

But Maya didn’t care as people got excited, she saw your look of displeasure, of horror at all the attention. And then you ran out of there and Maya was fast on your trail.

Maya heard Lisa Ann Walter call your name to stop you, but Maya was sprinting after you.  

You got to the back of the house, and you felt anxiety spike so hard in your body. Maya fell out of the door of the party after you. You turned and cursed yourself. 

You’d just made another TMZ article, you were so ashamed. You wanted to behave but you just couldn’t it seemed. 

You look behind you to see Maya and she was gorgeous, her outfit, her hair, her make up. You thought of her shoes on the stupid assholes face.

 It was all perfect, but that wasn’t what was the worst. It was the fact that Maya was so unapologetically Maya. 

You craved her. You wanted to fall to your knees and eat her out right here. 

But the reminder of all those people and your career taking another beating made you panic once more.  

“Hey, take a breath Austen.” She says and you shake your head and pull at your once perfectly styled  hair. Maya steps forward and you take a step back. You hated being touched when you were upset. It was a stupid movie trope to hold the girl as she was angry. If Maya touched you right now you’d give her a black eye. And Maya seemed to figure that out fast.

“Easy, I’m not gonna touch you. I’m not gonna hurt you. Just..put your hands over your head. It opens the airways. Ok, no one’s gonna come up here. Look! Look!” Maya says and she walks over to the door you both came out. She easily lifts the giant planter with a huge palm and she props it against the door with a thud. You are impressed by how strong she is. But you don’t let yourself analyze why you are looking at her gorgeous arms flex. 

Maya puts her hands up like you are holding a gun to her. 

“Just me and you Austen. Take a breath, no one to fake it for. You don’t need to pretend right now.” She tells you and you lean over and put your hands on your knees. Feeling the room is spinning before you listen to Maya. Placing your hands over your head, standing tall, and closing your eyes to take a breath. 

“Good girl, keep breathing.” Maya says and your body shivers at the praise. And Maya saw it, but she doesn’t throw it in your face, or make a sexual joke at you. She just watches you and you want to hate her, but it’s hard right now to. If you were honest you never disliked Maya. 

But as soon as you think it you have to lash out. You can’t like Maya. You need to put space between her and you. 

“I didn’t need you to fight my battles. I’m not into that..White knight shit. I’m not in need of saving. I don’t know how many Taylor Swift songs you listened to in the 2008, but I don’t need your help.” You snarl and Maya laughs. She likes how creative you are with your cuts. But she doesn’t want you to focus on that right. So she drops her hands and gives you a gentle gaze. Her voice is soft and sinful, and you try not to find comfort in any part of Maya Mason.  

“Why don’t we just table you despising me until your panic attack passes, eh? Then I can be the bad guy again.” Maya teases but she’s smiling and you smile at her now. Damn it. Fuck Maya Mason! 

You get further down the spiral of anger at your own girly statement;

“You stopped sending flowers.” You want to slap yourself for saying it and Maya fishes into her pocket a gold cigarett case, it snaps open, and her manicured fingers pinch a rather large blunt. Maya let’s that sentence sit for a moment, putting the blunt between her dark red lips. She eyes you and you use all your will power to not look at her lips, really you do.

She swaps out the case for a lighter, you see words on it but you can’t make it out without your glasses. 

Maya lights her drug of choice with the sentimental family arloom lighter, then snaps it closes. She takes a hit and then fingers the joint like she’s Cruella or something, it’s full of power, it’s gangster and feminine. It makes her look like the ultimate siren. Maya is dripping with confidence and sexual power. 

And yet Maya doesn’t feel like that right now. But to you, fuck, you couldn’t write or instruct an actor to get close to the ease in which Maya had you aroused from just lighting a joint and smoking.  

You never had seen anyone smoke in such an erotic way. 

Maya rubs her forehead with the finger holding the joint and then answers.

“You didn’t like the flowers I thought, or the presents.” She says and you reach your hand out and Maya is quick, handing you the blunt wordlessly. She was a little taken aback, but she doesn’t show it. Maya wants you to feel comfortable around her, she wants to get to know you. Fuck she wants to marry you. And if Maya makes comments or a face to make you self conscious she’s afraid that she’ll scare you away. 

You take a drag and hold it in your lungs, handing the dark joint back. Maya seems entertained by you, but she doesn’t break your moment to dwell on this. Maya tries not to think about how her lips are about to touch the same spot yours were just warming. 

She feels like a lovesick teenager just entertaining the idea.  

The song plays inside the party and it has a sinister low bass and you can hear the lyrics. It’s ‘Such a Whore’ remix by JVLA.

You're such a whore, I need her

When she's one me I don't feel so lonely

Don't leave me horny

Ride me like a pony

Her sweat, her moaning

She's just such a fucking whore, i love it

I just fuck her on the side

When she's pinched for me on light

For that pussy I would die 

You feel like Maya isn’t listening to the song, she probably can’t even hear it, but it’s making you feel like this is a scene in a movie.  To be next to her, this close, as those lyrics play. But Maya doesn’t let you keep listening to the lyrics. Doesn’t let you write your next story in her presence. 

“I didn’t stop sending you things all together.” She points the joint at you before bringing it to her mouth and taking a hit again and you, in response, let the smoke out slowly. Unable to hold your breath any longer. 

“Four Weddings and a Funeral, No Reservations, You’ve Got Mail …I’m sensing a theme.” You don’t mean for it to come out as flirty as it does. But Maya just seems to feel smug, like she won a prize or something. 

Maya figured you’d seen them all before, but it was a theme she was going for. 

“Yeah, you need to start writing more queer romance. Because there’s so much straight stuff.” Maya teases and then takes a hit holding it and passing the blunt to you. You inhale too, and hold it. Before looking behind you to see if anyone else can see you two smoking outside of this expensive actor’s party…or was it a Studio Exec? 

Maya let’s the smoke billow out of her mouth like a dragon. Before you jump to fill the gap in the silence.  

“Two people not compatible at first, one even not liking the other. Then..one person… giving them a chance…Kids these days call it ‘enemies to lovers trope. Though it could be argued four weddings and a funeral doesn’t fit that.” You say, calling Maya out. But she let’s her fingers brush against yours for longer than she needs.

Your breath hitches as the warm pads of her fingers graze your knuckles and then down to the ends of your black fingernails, she let’s them stay for a moment longer.

Before taking the joint out of your grip. Maya flicks the ash onto the lavish backyard patio. You wonder if she’s ever used an ash tray, or if she’d just put her spliff out on gorgeous models tongues. 

The idea of it was so hard to push away, you were angry at your over active imagination. And why the idea turned you on so much. 

Maya was watching you have an internal battle, and she would kill to know what you were thinking. Not just a saying in this moment, she had family in the Mafia, she’d do it. 

But Maya let the doobie sit in between her fingers as she eyed it to see if the cherry had gone out. But the head of Marketing spoke to you as she fiddled with her lighter in her pocket again. 

“Hmm, you know I like how you write all of that yearning. Your fandom really enjoys it too. The focus groups and first teaser trailer proves they’d watch you read a Take out Menu, as long as it was you. You have a way with words…A way with setting a scene.” Maya’s compliments don’t touch your skin, they don’t sink into your low confidence riddled mind. You are a tortured artist, just like every other waiter in this cursed town. So you focus on the interesting thing she’d said in that. 

“You watched my movies?” You weren’t sure why that was so off brand for Maya. Not Maya coded at all. Maya puts the half smoked blunt inbetween her lipstick stained lips and uses one hand to block the Santa Ana winds. You think of ‘The Holiday’ with Jack Black being a gentlemen and helping Kate Winslet get the eyelash out of her eye. You try not to feel like you are in a movie again, try not to feel like love is at all possible, as you watch Maya take her engraved lighter and cup one hand to block the wind.

It blows from both sides now and her flame goes out. 

Her manicured nails don’t get in the way as her thumb strikes the wheel to make another flame. You hate yourself for leaning in and cupping your hand to help her.

The memory of her breath against your ear the first day comes crashing in. You try to school your features.  

Maya’s eyes gaze up at you now, she’s taller by a few inches normally. But you had higher heels on tonight, and she’s bent just enough to block the windy night. So looking up at you through her dark lashes feels too intimate. 

But she doesn’t torture you, she lights the end of her blunt. And inhales, you step back and she flips the lighter closed. Breathing out before pinching the paper and handing it to you once more. 

“Is that so shocking?” She says and you feel stupid. 

You had made so many assumptions about the head of Studio Marketing. It felt jaded and childish now. You were a queer writer, you were never supposed to come to L.A and make movies. You wanted to write novels. Somehow you were writing straight love stories. 

You weren’t supposed to be here. And people made grand assumptions about you all day. How you could fall into the same trap with Maya was now a little embarrassing. 

You didn’t know Maya Mason. And it was becoming very clear, that you’d written her off quickly for the wrong reasons. 

You shouldn’t have assumed she was just a player with no brains. Maya had proved to be different in every way. You read every note she sent in those flowers and you were quickly discovering from her desire to send you a movie every day….that Maya didn’t give up easily. She was driven in more than just her work, and she was so fucking smart. 

You should have pushed her away because her blue eyes could only mean you falling into her, and that couldn’t happen. 

You warrded off love, and you meant it. 

Never again would you fall, never again would you give up your power. No, love and war were the same and you had no intention of bleeding again. 

Maya was off the menu.

“Just doesn’t seem like you’d be the type to sit it and watch people fall head over heels for each other. Just figured you weren’t into romcoms. I figured you were more of a…trashy reality TV girl.” You can’t apologize and tell her you realize you’d been wrong. You keep up the lie. Keep the words hoping they sting. 

‘Fall out of interest with me, I’m not worth this..’ You hope the remarks will do that. 

Maya watches your lips as you take the quick burning joint.

She curses the paper for burning too fast. Not ready to go back in, not wanting this moment with you to end. How could she talk you into getting out of here? Going to a local restaurant and sit with her. Talk until the early hours of the morning, Maya wished. 

“You don’t know me. And everyone wants that, that one person who see’s them. I don’t think that desire has a ‘type’ of audience. Everyone wants to be wanted, to be chosen in a crowd of people. To be taken home and grow old with someone. That’s just…perfect.” Maya says as she looks off into the distance. And you can see the hollywood sign in the expensive home.

The light bleeds against the dark backdrop, it would have made you feel dreamy the first month you’d been in L.A. When you believed this was the land of Angels, where people made history with their art. What a kid you’d been.

But time had made you mean and now it was just a sign on a hill. Just like the 405 highway. Nothing special as you saw it. 

The color bled into the night like water colors becoming blurry on a canvas. 

It was fake, just like everything and everyone in Hollywood. 

But as you gazed at Maya you had to admit; 

“You aren’t what I expected.” You wished you hadn’t shown your hand. Your cards felt bare on the table now. You hand her the blunt and stare at her hand instead. But Maya whispers and looks at you. 

“Yeah, I suppose I’m not. But did you really think I was going to be… on…be like I am in the studio..All the time? You don’t think I put my feet up on a sunday, have a relax button? Don’t think I can chill?”

You think for a moment, before bursting into a fit of laughter. 

“Fuck no!” You say dramatically and Maya laughs along, glad you get her brand of humor. Realizing you two had a lot more in common than Maya could have ever dreamt of. 

And Maya’s sides hurt as she laughed. 

“No, I really don’t. I am a lot, all the time. I actually threw an iced mocha at a producer an hour before I had to come here. Pretty sure he was wearing a vintage Armani suit too.” Maya cackles and you laugh too. Fuck it felt good to not fake a laugh too, but to actually laugh. To be naughty and enjoy a bad joke, someone somewhere would get angry at you for not being kind to the poor producer, but not Maya.  

When you both caught your breath, Maya looked at the ends of her joint. 

Time was up.

“It’s not so bad,” You whisper looking down at the end of your pot. 

You felt a little floaty, but you’d smoked enough in your time here in California to know one joint wouldn’t do it. 

“The weed? Yeah I picked it up so it’s fresh roll.” Maya says and you wonder if she’s being obtuse on purpose. As she flicks it into the big planter pot she’d used to barricade the door. 

“No, being authentically yourself. Unapologetically crude and say what you mean and do what you want. Seems like it would be pretty..freeing.” You uncover a secret in the space between you and the gorgeous woman and Maya thinks about this. Eyeing the sign, the lack of anyone around, and then you once again. 

Like she’s deciding, and you are curious what goes on in her mind. 

“It is, that is until you lose someone important from your reputation.”

It feels like a declaration of love. And you almost want to be annoyed you hadn’t written it for a character in your storys. Because it was fucking good. 

You both stared at one another, and you wondered if Maya would close the distance and kiss you. But she didn’t. And that made you want her to more.  

“Thank you for what you did in there…” You point to the door with your thumb. 

“I thought I was being toxic and saving you?” Maya’s eyebrow raises but her face is playful. 

“I didn’t need your help…but it was nice to have someone in my corner..” You give her the insight. And now you really wish you would stop talking. Or better yet, be rude again. Because this was all too….romantic. 

“Where’s Aubrey or Sandy? Not very gentlemanly to leave you.” Maya says and she realizes that she ruined your shared moment. But it’s too late to hit delete. Not a text she can unsend. 

Your face sours and Maya opens her mouth to say words. Any words to have you look at her like you had a moment ago. But your walls slide back up so fast. 

“What are you talking about? I didn’t bring a date. Oh, I see. You read that TMZ shit, you think I’m such a slut. That I’m going out every weekend with actresses older than me and fucking them, is that it? Jesus, I don’t know what I was thinking. You are just like the rest. Not that I care what the fuck you think, or anyone else. But those women are my friends. They’re strong and smart and-forget it! If I wanted to have a fucking orgy in George Clooney’s summer home with Viola Davis and Helen Mirren fucking me with their straps at the same time! It would be my business, not anyone elses! ” You say and Maya yells your name as you push past her and kick the big heavy planter, your shoe holds up. But the planter breaks and you step over the dirt and roots of the tree. 

You throw open the door and go back into the party so you can get your keys and leave. 

Maya tries to catch you but you are gone. 

____________________

Maya doesn’t apologize.

She wan’t raised to. No one in her family had ever taught her how to, in fact. 

So she isn’t sure how to say sorry. But she knew she regretted how things ended that night. And she still was desperate for your company. Even if you never believed her, she just wanted to talk to you.

Maya was in love, already so far gone, and it was embarrassing. If Maya did get embarrassed by feelings, which she didn’t. 

So on Monday she opened another browser on her computer and ordered a book again. Hoping it would get you to talk to her, even if it was just to throw it in her face.

So three hours later when she was taking a meeting with Patty and Sal and you threw the door of her office open. She was relieved, not upset. 

Maya’s assistant was trying to stop you but she shushed him. 

“The fuck is this?” You held up Viola Davis’s memoire. But then you saw Sal and Patty and your face paled. 

“We’ll leave, this seems like a couples thing.” Sal says and you open your mouth to say that you aren’t dating Maya. But you can’t find it in yourself to correct him.

So when Patty lightly pats Maya’s shoulder like an understanding friend. Who is very aware that she’s gonna sleep on the sofa you wonder if the whole studio believes you two are actually dating. 

Maya closes the door and then puts her hand out for the sofa. 

You don’t want to give her the pleasure of being obedient. So you throw the book at her and Maya ducks. Not catching it as it hits the wall. 

“I take it you aren’t one for memoirs then?” Maya teases and the vein in your neck pops out. Maya eyes it and wonders how you taste. She wonders if she licks that vein, what noises she’ll get in return. 

“I don’t get the game you are playing. But I mean it, I’m not interested.” You say and Maya feels like she knows you well enough in this moment to know you don’t actually mean it. Your voice just doesn’t hold the same venom now. 

“Did you read it?” Maya asked and you ground your jaw. 

“Yes, Viola Davis is amazing, I thought it was very well written and very moving. Why did you send it?” You say and then wonder why the fuck you are still in her office, with the door closed. Alone with Maya Mason. 

“You left the party before I could talk to you again..and you said that thing about double penetration with Viola Davis. So…it was my way of…I wanted to…” Maya trailed off and you both look at each other with such intensity. 

But Maya’s door is opened and Matt is holding up a report on marketing that he’d printed out. He’s holding it up and then he eyes you across the room. 

Maya grabs the cup full of pens off her desk and chucks it at Matt’s head. He curses as it hits him in the face. Wow, she had great aim.

Blood quickly squirts out of Matt’s nose like he’s a pierced Capri Sun. He cups his face and drops the pages and they go fluttering to the floor. 

“MAYA WHAT THE FUCK! OW! I’M BLEEDING!” 

Wow Matt bleeds a lot, is he on blood thinners you wonder. Realizing Matt is an only child, because he couldn’t take a hit. You however had brothers, and you learned how to take a punch by the age of seven. You realize you should help your boss…or feel bad?

“HAVE YOU NEVER HEARD OF KNOCKING? GET OUT! GET OUT!” Maya screams and you try not to laugh as she goes feral. This was the Maya you’d heard so much about. Short tempered and unpredictable, ready to set someone on fire if they got her coffee order wrong.

Not the gentle looks you’d been receiving, book club conversations, white knight, and romcom hobbyist. You kinda liked watching this actually. Maya wasn’t just prince charming, she was…well Maya Mason. Not a fucking nail unbedazzled or wrinkle in her outfit as she wounded the head of the studio. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle as Matt used his hideous tie to dab at his now bleeding nose. But he turns out of the office and his tie and shirt have giant blood stains on them. 

Maya walks after him and you wonder if she’s going to apologize but she slams the door.

You can’t help but make a joke.  

“I didn’t knock either, is that what happens if I don’t knock next time?” You tease, knowing you should feel bad for enjoying this so much. Matt was innocent and didn’t deserve it, but it was hilarious. 

“No, I like you. I want to go out with you. Fuck I’m trying to woo you here! Besides don’t pity the twat. This is far from the first time I’ve told Matt to respect the closed door. And if I’m in the middle of a meeting and my door is closed you just…open it. Come in, okay Austen?” Maya says and her hair is a little wilder than before. You wonder if she even realized how honest she was being. 

“Okay.” You say the word slowly, like you are trying to process all of that. And you don’t know why you feel like you are going to blush. 

“Okay.” Maya repeats she takes in the sight of you, your outfit makes her want you. The hair not in your ponytail is begging to be placed behind your ear. 

You both stare at each other and you walk around her desk  to pick up the thrown book. You are extremely aware that Maya is staring at your ass as you bend over. But it doesn’t piss you off how you’d like it to. It feels like flattery, which makes you feel like a stupid teenager. 

After you pick up the book you make your way to the door and Maya goes to grab your wrist, to stop you but you throw open the door and walk out. Your signature black boots clicking on the marble floor.  

“Are you free tonight? I’ll take you to that new sushi place on Sunset!” Maya yells for the whole floor to hear. You flip her the bird from behind, you but don’t turn around. 

“Not happening Mason!”

Maya smiles as she watches you put a little more sway into your hips. But her phone starts to ring and she knows it’s HR. She’s going to get another complaint filed against her and she rolls her eyes but goes to answer it. 

_______________

The next day Maya is at Matt’s house for a party. She looks all over for you, but doesn’t find her gorgeous and tortured Jane Austen sitting in a corner surrounded by pretty Mommy actresses.

Maya tries not to pout as she goes over to her group of executives. Knowing she’s here on business. Not wanting to spend time at the lame venue longer than needed. 

Patty gives her a shitty mixed drink that Matt is serving. There’s a theme to the party but it got lost somewhere. Maya takes a sip and tastes vanilla vodka and Malibu rum with a little bit of pineapple juice. It’s fucking gross.

But Maya sees the alternative is what Patty is drinking. 

Which is a play on Sangria..only for some reason it’s 75 percent fruit in her glass. And she keeps spitting out chunks of rancid mushy old fruit into a napkin. 

Sal is high as fuck. Matt is trying to get anyone around him to get Zoe Kravitz to come to his party. From the looks of it, everyone at the party either works for the studio. Or is a B level celebrity. 

Maya thought she’d seen Luke Wilson but it was actually the Wilson’s youngest cousin. It was a pitiful party and Maya was counting down the minutes until she could leave.

“Patty I’ll give you a fucking raise if you get Kravitz here!” Matt tried and then eyed Maya.

“Where is your girlfriend? Can you call her? We need a big name!” He says and Maya has seen this look from him before. It’s that desperate need for be cool to others, it’s nasty to be around. 

“Haven’t you heard, Maya can’t get a date! So it it just sex then?” Quinn asks coming out of nowhere and Patty and Maya both grimace at her drunken state. 

“Of course it’s not just sex! Maya is in love. And our young Austen is the queen of romance. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were already picking out vacation homes. You guys u-haul it last weekend?” Patty jokes but everyone belies it as the truth.

Maya sips her gross drink before putting it onto a passing survey’s tray to get rid of it.

“Matt I’m sure someone will show eventually.” Maya says not willing to tell the reality of her love life, she wanted what they said to be the truth. 

“You really believe that? You think your girl will show?” Matt said excited and Maya smirked.

“Of course not. But HR said I can’t make you cry again this quarter without getting a pay cut.” Maya said and the whole group laughed, except Matt who checked his phone again.

“Patty don’t you have Al Pacino’s number from when you used to give him blow jobs?” Matt asks and Patty is chewing a grape from her weird drink. She chuckles at the memory.

“He’s 85 Matty. You want a repeat of Vegas? You wanna see if you can kill him with mushrooms.” She taunts and everyone finds that entertaining. 

Maya can’t help but chuckle with the group at that memory. 

“Why didn’t you ask me? I’m your best friend!” Sal said and he takes Pattys drink and throws it on his chest.

Yeah he was really high. Patty just looks relieved she doesn’t need to keep eating the fruit salad.

“You don’t have anyone’s phone number. You once told me you were fucking Brie Larson. You are a liar!” Quinn said and Patty looked at her concerned that she may have got her drink spiked. She was sweating and being very blunt. 

“She knows we got to second base! Besides; I have everyone’s phone number. I got Brad’s Pitt’s phone number and even Anthony Hopkins Fax number!” Sal brags and opens a small container of cocaine.

He looks around for a surface and then goes to the bar.

Maya arches an eyebrow and makes her move;  she corners him at the end of the bar as he pulls out a rolled up fifty to use to snort.

“Sal, I need a phone number.”

He leans down and does his line before using his finger to rub the excess on his gums. 

He eyes Maya for a minute like she’s a unicorn before realizing what she’s saying.

“Your girlfriend need to get in touch with Sally Fields. Get it cuz you both are old and have dark hair? She has a type!” He jokes and Maya tries to remain non homicidal to him. 

“Will you get me Austen’s phone number?”

“You don’t have your own girls number? Oh shit is she such a romcom queen you gotta like..send her letters or something? Or oh, did you get in trouble again and she changed it! That would suck! Is that why everyone said she won’t go out to eat with you?”

Maya focused on box breathing. Sal had already decided on the idea of payment as she tried not to set him on fire with her lighter.

“Wow, Maya. I wonder what I want.” He pulled the coke out again and put it on the glass bar.

Maya was planning his demise, and her alibi. But she focused on counting down from five trying to not reach across and slap the phone out of his hand and then take out his eye with one of the appetizer toothpicks. 

Sal got an idea before doing another line, holding up his finger like he found the holy grail. Maya was sure he wasn’t Harrison Ford and he had not.

“Ooh how about like a blank check as they used to say in old Hollywood?. I want you to owe me a favor!” Sal says through his coked out mind and Maya doesn’t like that. She grew up around the mafia, she knew better. 

Maya leaned in and took her phone out. She used the passcode on one of her secret apps. Sal’s face fell as he looked at the screen.

“How about this? You give me her number or I’ll show the entire party the video of you getting a golden shower at Angela Lansbury’s Easter party from Bette Midler and Mark Warburg. How does that sound? I believe I saw a projector in the main room, I can’t wait to tell everyone it’s movie time! Do you thing we can connect the Bose speakers?” Maya taunts and her face is so excited and Sal is shaking his head. But her finger hovers of the play button.

“Fuck no! I opened my mouth the whole time…Please ok I’m sorry! Fuck I didn’t know you had that! You are so scary! Jesus!” Sal grabs his phone out of his tux jacket and scrolls. He reads the digits out and Maya quickly adds them to her phone.

Sal runs away and Maya grabs the drink he ordered and downs it in two gulps. Phone sitting in her manicured nails like a sacred prize of war. 

__

To be continued. ...

[thatdiabolicalfeminist]

i keep looking through my grocery cart trying to figure out what else i can take out and like. i am struggling.

hi my income is about 1/3rd the local minimum wage and i'm a multiply (physically/developmentally) disabled person who is temporarily (only for a week and a half) responsible for purchasing groceries for three times as many people as usual (one of whom has celiac n faces serious risk from even cross contact with gluten)

and the math is not mathing and i am very stressed out 😭 i also used the last of several cleaning supplies recently n don't know how i'll get more

i know everybody's broke rn but if a financially secure adult is feeling generous, literally $5 would be a massive relief rn. the cleaning supplies (and some other stuff) is on this wishIist. i get groceries from walmart so if u wanted to help directly w that these can be sent anonymously (or not): https://giftcards.walmart.com/

my email address if anyone wants to send anything is thatdiabolicalfeminist at gmail dot com.

i'm so sorry to ask, i promise i am trying very hard not to need extra help but i don't know what else to do right now.

[flwrstqr]

— HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (LHS - 이희승)

SYNOPSIS ! an advice writer, you, starts on a bold new project for an article aiming to explain how to drive a man away in just 10 days. your editor is supports, so you set out to find a suitable man for her experiment. meanwhile, executive heeseung is equally confident in his ability to make any woman fall in love with him within 10 days. when you and heeseung cross paths, things slightly go off plan.

THE CAST heeseung x writer! fem reader

GENRE s2l, fluff, comedy, romance

WORD COUNT 5k+

WARNINGS parties, kissing, small grammar errors, yn kind of playing with heeseung at first, swearing, angst, crying

DANi NOTEZ hii this is for my liz's new event!!! this i based the rom com, how to lose a guy in 10 days. i kind of changed up scenes but the main idea and plot is based on the iconic 2000s movie. i've been writing this for abt 2-3 days? i thought it was good enough for liz' event so here i am. anyways i hope u enjoy it ><

BEING A WRITER HAS BEEN YOUR NUMBER ONE GOAL EVER SINCE HIGH SCHOOL. Now, at age 23, you were finally standing at the gates of the biggest magazine company ever. The sight alone sent chills down your spine, filling you with exhilaration.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the doors and stepped inside. The bustling activity, the hum of the printer, and the aroma of bitter coffee greeted you. You made your way to the elevator and anxiously pressed the button for the 17th floor.

Upon arrival, you awkwardly walked into the office. Your heart was pounding, and your knees were slightly shaking. You approached the manager's office and opened the door, finding yourself sitting in front of your section's main manager.

"YN LN?" the woman asked.

"Yes, ma'am," you replied stiffly, nerves evident in your voice.

"Welcome to our magazine company," she greeted, shaking your sweaty hand.

"Thank you," you responded with your usual sweet smile.

"Well, why don't you get to work?" she laughed. Your eyes widened, and you quickly stammered an apology, rushing to find your new desk and start brainstorming ideas.

For nearly two hours, you gazed out the window, feeling empty. No ideas were coming to you. It always seemed that the best ideas came at the worst times, and now, when you needed them most, your mind was blank.

"YN, just think…" you whispered to yourself, running your fingers through your hair. You glanced around the office, hoping for inspiration. Your eyes settled on a young man and woman engaged in a flirtatious conversation. Watching them smile and laugh together made you wonder if they were a couple or just interested in each other. (happy couples really did give you an ick.)

Then, it happened. The perfect idea. An idea that could possibly get you promoted and shake the whole world.

Quickly scribbling on your paper, the title snapped into your mind: "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."

YOU MIGHT BE WONDERING, how do you even lose a guy in 10 days? Easy—just find a guy and drive him away by doing stereotypical “girl things.” Sounds like a piece of cake, right?

“YN, that is one of the BEST ideas I’ve ever heard!” your editor, Yeseo, exclaims.

“Really?” you ask, eagerly smiling.

“It’s perfect! It would catch everyone’s attention!” Yeseo explains, her eyes lighting up as she imagines the situation.

“So, how are you going to write this?” Yeseo raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll try it out myself and document my experiences. That way, it’s more authentic,” you shrug.

“That sounds great. Just journal your experiences each day,” Yeseo nods, agreeing with your plan. “I’m so excited to see the final product, YN. Email me once you’re finished, and we’ll get it published within weeks.”

You give her a quick smile before leaving her office, ready to start your new adventure.

PARTIES. USUALLY ONE OF THE THINGS YOU ABSOLUTELY HATED. The noise of couples kissing, people screaming, and music blasting through the speakers was just not your thing. The way sweaty bodies brush against each other as they chug alcohol. Parties are truly the thing you hate the most.

“So you’re telling me your new article for the magazine is about how to get a boy to dump you in 10 days?” Karina raised her eyebrow.

“In other words, yes,” you smiled. “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“Possibly it not working,” Giselle interjected.

“Well, it will. I’ve planned the whole thing,” you grinned with a hint of pride. “My editor was impressed. I’m sure it’ll work.”

“If you say so,” Karina laughed at your confidence.

“So basically, YN will get a boyfriend before me?” Ningning asked, shocked.

“Well, he’s not gonna be my boyfriend. He’s more like a test,” you replied uncertainty. As you continued to explain your plan, you felt a gaze fixed on you from across the room.

A FEW MINUTES BEFORE

“I bet you can’t get a girlfriend,” Jake joked.

“I can,” Heeseung rolled his eyes.

“Wanna bet on it, then?” Jake's eyes glinted with playfulness.

“Deal,” Heeseung confirmed.

“If you get that girl over there as your girlfriend, then I’ll give you a thousand dollars.” Jake smirked, pointing at you across the room.

“Her?” Heeseung raised his eyebrow as he checked you out. You were pretty to his eyes, though he wasn’t sure if he had the courage to approach you.

“Yup, her,” Jake grinned.

“Deal, I’ll have her in my arms within a day,” Heeseung winked before walking over to ask for your number.

NOW

“No way my plan will fail–” your voice stopped as Heeseung approached, tapping your shoulder lightly.

“Hi,” he greeted you with a welcoming smile.

“Uh, hi?” you replied, confused.

“You’re kind of cute. Can I get your number?” Heeseung asked, the words not quite rolling off his tongue as he had never done this before.

Your cheeks burned slightly as you stared. “Sure?” He was quite cute, with his sweet smile and perfectly styled hair. You gave him your number, and he mentioned he would text you later before walking off.

“YN, you know what that means?” Giselle raised her eyebrow.

“Huh?” you looked confused.

“You can use him as your test,” Winter recalled. Your eyes then widened. Perfect! He would be the perfect subject for your new article. Now, how were you going to make him yours?

YOU SIT ON YOUR BED, staring at your phone, debating whether to text Heeseung first. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, a mixture of nervousness and excitement bubbling inside you. Finally, you take a deep breath and type out a message.

YN: Hi, it’s YN. We met at the party earlier, you asked for my number. :)

You hit send and immediately feel a rush of anxiety. What if he doesn’t respond? What if he thinks you’re weird? You try to distract yourself by scrolling through social media, but the minutes feel like hours. Suddenly, your phone buzzes.

Heeseung: Hey, of course I remember. How's your night going? 

YN: It’s going good, just relaxing now. How about you?

Heeseung: Same here. Just got home. That party was a bit too much for me, tbh

You smile, feeling a little more at ease.

YN: Agreed, not rlly a party person lmao

Heeseung: Really? Me neither. I actually prefer a quiet night with some good music.

YN: Same, what kind of music do you like?

Heeseung: I listen to a lot like R&B and indie ig

YN: oh rlly? Same w me 

Heeseung: oh that’s cool

Heeseung: also wanna meet up one day?

YN: That would be amazing. I’m totally up for it.

Heeseung: Cool, it’s a date then. :)

You can’t help but smile at his message, feeling a flutter of excitement.

YN: Sounds like a plan.

Heeseung: It’s getting late. I should probably get some sleep. But I’m glad we got to talk tonight.

YN: Me too. Sleep well, Heeseung. Talk to you tomorrow?

Heeseung: Definitely. Goodnight, YN. :)

You set your phone down, a smile still on your face. This might just be the start of something interesting.

YOU TAKE A DEEP BREATH, smoothing out your outfit one last time before stepping into the restaurant. Heeseung is already there, waiting at a table near the window. He spots you and waves, a warm smile spreading across his face. You give a small smile back. 

“Hi,” you greet him as you sit down.

“Hey,” he replies, “You look great.”

“Thanks, you too.”

The waiter comes over to take your orders, and there’s a moment of awkward silence as you both look at the menus.

“So, uh, do you come here often?” Heeseung asks, attempting to break the ice.

“Actually, it’s my first time,” you admit.

“I see,” Heeseung awkwardly laughs. 

AFTER DINNER, you both step outside into the cool evening air, feeling more comfortable in each other’s presence.

“That was really nice,” Heeseung says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, feeling a sense of relief that the awkwardness from earlier has faded.

You walk side by side down the quiet street, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.

“Do you live far from here?” Heeseung asks, breaking the silence.

“Not too far. Just a few blocks away,” you reply, glancing at him.

“Oh I see,” he says, smiling.

As you continued walking, the two of you began to chatter off. The conversation flows effortlessly, and you find yourself laughing at his jokes and sharing your own stories.

“Did you see the sunset earlier?” Heeseung asks, pointing to the sky, which is now painted with shades of orange and pink.

“Yeah, it was beautiful,” you say, smiling at the sight.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Heeseung says, looking at you with a soft smile.

“Me too,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you.

As you reach your street, you both come to a stop.

“Well, I guess this is where we part ways,” Heeseung says, looking a little reluctant to leave.

“Yeah,” you say, feeling a twinge of disappointment.

“Thanks for tonight, YN. I had a great time,” he says, stepping closer to you, “Maybe another time we can hang out again.” 

“Thank you too, Heeseung. That sounds great,” you reply, feeling a rush of happiness.

 YOU DECIDE IT'S TIME TO PUT YOUR PLAN INTO ACTION. You’ve thought through every detail, determined to see if your article concept works in real life. Step one: find an ugly dog and some hideous clothes. You’ve got the perfect ideas in mind.

You meet Heeseung outside his apartment, holding a small, scruffy dog with a face only its owner could love. You flash him a bright smile as he opens the door.

“Surprise!” you exclaim. “I got us a dog!”

Heeseung’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of the dog. “Uh, wow, YN. That’s…unexpected.”

“Isn’t he adorable?” you gush, ignoring the bewilderment on Heeseung’s face. “I named him Snuggles.”

“Snuggles, huh?” Heeseung says, trying to muster enthusiasm. “Yeah, he’s…something.”

You place Snuggles in Heeseung’s arms, watching as the dog licks his face with an enthusiastic, slobbery tongue. Heeseung grimaces slightly but manages a strained smile.

“Let’s take him for a walk,” you suggest brightly, grabbing a garishly colored leash from your bag.

Later that evening, you bring out the next part of your plan: an outfit so hideous that it should be impossible for Heeseung to bear. You hand him a neon green tracksuit with orange polka dots and a pair of mismatched shoes.

“I thought we could match!” you say, revealing your identical outfit. “Isn’t it fun?”

Heeseung looks at the clothes, then back at you, clearly unsure how to respond. “Wow, YN. This is…unique.”

“You don’t like it?” you ask, pouting slightly.

“No, no, it’s great,” he says quickly. “I’ll just, uh, go change.”

When he returns, you both look like you’ve stepped out of a bad 80s workout video. You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity, but Heeseung seems to be struggling to keep a straight face.

“Let’s go grab dinner,” you say, linking your arm with his. “I made reservations at that fancy restaurant downtown.”

At the restaurant, the two of you turn heads as you walk in, dressed in your eye-searing outfits. The hostess tries to maintain her professionalism as she leads you to your table, but you can see the corners of her mouth twitching.

Throughout dinner, you do your best to be as irritating as possible. You chew with your mouth open, talk loudly, and insist on ordering the strangest items on the menu.

“Are you sure you want the pizza?” Heeseung asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.

“Absolutely,” you reply, grinning. “And I think you should try it too!”

Heeseung hesitates but eventually nods. “Sure, why not?” 

Here you were, sitting on your bed as you write your story. Typing away and zoning out, it had to be working right? He obviously would be over you by next week. All you needed was one more shove to drive him away soon as possible. Just 5 more days..

YOU PUSH YOUR CART THROUGH the aisles of the grocery store, scanning the shelves for the items on your list. As you reach for a box of cereal, you hear a familiar voice behind you.

“YN?”

You turn to see Heeseung approaching, a smile lighting up his face. “Oh, hi Heeseung,” you say with a smile.

“Nice to see you here,” he says, falling into step beside you.

“Yeah, I just needed to grab a few things,” you reply, feeling a bit flustered by his presence.

Heeseung nods, and for a moment, there’s an awkward silence as you both continue browsing. Suddenly, you realize you can’t reach the item you need on the top shelf.

“Um, Heeseung, do you think you could help me with something?” you ask, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Of course, what do you need?” he replies, stepping closer.

“I just need to grab that box up there,” you say, pointing to the top shelf.

“Sure thing,” Heeseung says, reaching up to grab the box.

But as he stretches, you accidentally bump into him, causing him to lose his balance. In a split second, you reach out to steady him, but instead, you end up stumbling backward, crashing to the ground on top of him. Your face merely inches from each other. 

“I’m sorry about that!” you exclaim, your face burning with embarrassment.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” he says, his cheeks also flushed as he helps you up.

“Um, we should probably get up,” you say, feeling flustered.

“Yeah, definitely,” Heeseung agrees, scrambling to his feet.

You both straighten your clothes and try to regain your composure, but the awkwardness lingers in the air.

“Well, um, thanks for trying to help,” you say, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Anytime,” Heeseung replies with a sheepish smile. You exchange a quick awkward glance before awkwardly walking back to do your own things.

YOU AND HEESEUNG STEP INTO THE DIMLY LIT MOVIE THEATER, the smell of popcorn filling the air. You’ve been looking forward to this night out, hoping it will help end your plan to drive him away. As you settle into your seats, the lights dim, and the movie begins.

The film is a romantic comedy, and as the story unfolds, you find yourself getting lost in the plot. But when the characters share a kiss on screen, you feel a sudden tension between you and Heeseung.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, and you can see that he’s watching you, his expression unreadable. You both look away awkwardly, feeling a flush of embarrassment.

As the movie progresses, the tension between you only grows. You can feel Heeseung’s eyes on you, and you struggle to focus on the screen, your heart pounding in your chest.

Suddenly, as another kiss happens, Heeseung leans in closer to you. You freeze, unsure of what to do. Is he going to kiss you? But then, almost as if on cue, Heeseung leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. His breath mingles with yours, his warm exhales tickling your skin as he leans in, his lips drawing closer to yours. You can feel the gentle brush of his breath against your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. 

Your heart pounds in your chest as you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. And then, in a heartbeat, he closes the gap between you, his lips pressing softly against yours. It’s a gentle kiss, but hesitant at first, but soon it deepens. You can’t help but respond, your hands finding their way to his shoulders.

You melt into the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips against yours.  When you finally pull away, your heart is racing, and your mind is buzzing with emotions. You meet Heeseung’s gaze, and you can see the same uncertainty reflected in his eyes.

“Wow,” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.

“Yeah,” you murmur, at a loss for words.

As the movie comes to an end, you both sit in silence, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air. But despite the awkwardness, you can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted between you.

As you leave the theater, you can’t help but replay the kiss in your mind, feeling a sense of warmth and longing that you can’t ignore. And as you walk hand in hand with Heeseung, you realize with a start that maybe, just maybe, you’re falling in love.

AS YOU LIE IN BED THAT NIGHT, the events of the evening replay in your mind. The gentle touch of Heeseung's lips against yours, the warmth of his embrace—it all stuck in your head. 

You stare up at the ceiling, think to yourself.  Love? It's a word you're not ready to utter, a feeling too intense to comprehend. You try to push the thought aside. 

You roll onto your side, pulling the covers tighter around you. You couldn’t be in love? All that effort you put in to get rid of him. It was your 8th day, just two more days. You couldn’t do it anymore. As you drift off to sleep, the question echoes in your mind. Are you falling in love with Heeseung? 

THE REALIZATION HITS YOU like a ton of bricks, leaving you feeling breathless. Could it be true? Are you actually falling in love with Heeseung?

The thought consumes you as you go about your day. By the time evening arrives, you can't shake the feeling that you needed to end it.

Summoning every ounce of courage, you pick up your phone and dial your editor's number. When she answers, you get yourself together for the conversation ahead.

"Hey, it's me," you begin, "I need to talk to you about the article."

There's a pause on the other end of the line, and you can almost hear the curiosity in her voice as she responds. "Sure, what's up?"

"I… I can't write it," you admit, the words feeling like a confession. "I just don't feel right about it anymore."

There's a moment of silence before your editor speaks again, her tone firm."No, you're writing it," she says, leaving no room for argument.

"But—" you start to protest, but she cuts you off before you can continue.

"No buts," she insists. "We've already agreed on the topic, and you're the best person for the job. I expect to see the first draft on my desk by the end of the week."

You sigh, feeling defeated. It's clear that your editor isn't going to budge on this issue, and you know that arguing further would be a waste.

"Okay," you say reluctantly, resigning yourself to the task at hand. "I'll get it done."

AS YOU SIT ON YOUR COUCH, trying to make sense of everything that's happened, until you hear Heeseung pick up a call. 

“ Heeseung!" Jake's voice crackles through the phone, filled with excitement. "So, have you sealed the deal yet? Win YN over?"

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of your name and you instinctively lean in closer, eager to hear his response. But as you listen, the color drains from your face, and a cold dread settles in the pit of your stomach.

"The bet that I could get YN in 10 days?," Heeseung's voice comes through the phone, his words cutting through the air, "I thought I could, but…" 

Your heart shatters. Your knees started to shake. How could you have been so blind? How could you have let yourself fall for someone who was playing a game with your feelings?

Before you can hear the rest of his sentence, you leave the room silently. "I thought I could, but…" The words replay in your head.As the reality sinks in, you realize that you may have just broken your own heart, listening in on a conversation that was never meant for your ears.  He played with you. He was using you. You feel like a fool, blindsided by the truth that's been staring you in the face all along. 

You walk yourself to the nearest taxi before coming back to your empty apartment. You lie on bed, your palms on your eyes, sobbing quietly. Why should you care? I mean he was just an experiment — right? 

THE MORNING SUNLIGHT FILTERS through the curtains as you sit on your bed, thoughts rushing through your mind. The wounds from last night were still raw, as you feel tired and sick. You kew what you have to do. You began to type your last paragraph of the article before submitting it to your editor. 

With the article sent, you feel a mix of anxiety and relief. You know the revised piece is honest and raw, reflecting your own experience. But there’s one more thing you need to do to truly move forward.

To: Editor Yeseo

Subject: Resignation Letter

Dear Yeseo,

I am writing to formally resign from my position as a writer, effective immediately. I appreciate the opportunities I have had here and the support from the team, but I must prioritize my well-being at this time.

Thank you for your understanding.

Sincerely, YN

You hit send, feeling an overwhelming amount of pain. Being a writer had been your dream job, but now, it feels like a chapter you need to close. As you sit in your now-quiet apartment, you feel a pang of sadness. The memories of the past few weeks with Heeseung linger, but you push them aside. 

You start with your closet, pulling out clothes and sorting them into piles: keep, donate, and toss. You take down the photos and posters from the walls, each one a reminder of the life you’re leaving behind.

Next, you move to the kitchen, packing up dishes, utensils, and small appliances. You wrap everything carefully, methodically, as if each item represents a piece of your heart that you’re trying to protect. 

Your phone buzzes with messages from Heeseung, but you ignore them. Making them be left on delivered. You move to the living room, packing up books, DVDs, and mementos. You’re not just packing up your belongings; you’re packing up your old life, preparing to move on and start new.

IN HIS DIMLY LIT APARTMENT, Heeseung sits on the edge of his bed, the glow of his laptop screen casting shadows across his face. His heart pounds in his chest as he opens the email attachment—a document titled "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days—And Fall in Love in the Process" by [Your Name].

As the page loads, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to read. The cursor hovers over the first paragraph, and with a trembling hand, he begins to scroll down. 

Heeseung sits at his desk, his heart pounding in his chest as he reads the article that has just landed in his inbox. With each word, his emotions spiral into a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief.

"When I set out to write this article..."

He reads the opening sentence, his brow furrowing in confusion. What article is this? And why does it sound so familiar?

As he continues to read, the pieces start to fall into place. The description of the article, the unexpected turn of events—it's all too familiar, too painful to ignore.

"I met someone who was supposed to be just a test subject..."

Heeseung's breath catches in his throat as he realizes what he's reading. This is about him. About the bet, about the article he overheard, about everything.

He reads on, his heart pounding louder with each passing sentence:

When I set out to write this article, the plan was simple: follow a set of steps to make a guy dump me in ten days. It was supposed to be a fun, light-hearted challenge—a piece to entertain our readers. But life, as it often does, had other plans.

I met someone who was supposed to be just a test subject. But as the days went by, something unexpected happened. The more I tried to push him away, the closer we became. Every awkward moment, every forced argument, every silly plan to drive him away only brought us closer together.

I found myself laughing at his jokes, looking forward to our time together, and, against all odds, feeling a connection I hadn't anticipated. What started as a challenge turned into a journey of discovery—not just about him, but about myself.

I realized that love isn't something you can plan or control. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it, breaking down the walls you've carefully built around your heart. And sometimes, the person you're trying to lose ends up being the one you can't imagine living without.

So, dear readers, this isn't the article I set out to write. It's not about foolproof ways to make a guy dump you. Instead, it's a story about how, in the process of trying to push someone away, I found myself falling in love. It's messy, it's unexpected, and it's beautiful.

Life has a funny way of turning our plans upside down. And sometimes, the best stories are the ones we never meant to write.

He closes the magazine, his mind spinning with thoughts of you. He knows he needs to find you, to talk to you, to tell you how he feels. He can't let this opportunity slip away, can't let the chance to be with you slip through his fingers.

With a sense of determination, Heeseung rises from his seat, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows he has to find you, to tell you how he feels, to see if maybe, just maybe, you feel the same way too.

HEESEUNG'S HEART RACES AS HE RUSHES THROUGH THE STREETS, his mind consumed with thoughts of you. He knows he needs to find you, to talk to you, to tell you everything.

As he rounds the corner, he sees your apartment building looming ahead. His steps quicken, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He's so close now, so close to finally telling you how he feels.

But as he reaches your building, his heart sinks at the sight before him. He sees movers loading boxes into a truck parked outside, and he realizes with a sinking feeling that you're moving away.

Heeseung's chest tightens with panic, his mind racing as he searches for a solution. He can't let you slip away, can't let this chance to be with you slip through his fingers. He rushes toward the building, his thoughts jumbled all up. 

As he bursts through the door, he sees you standing in the hallway, a suitcase at your feet, tears streaming down your face. His heart breaks at the sight of your sadness, and he knows he needs to act fast.

"Y/N!" he calls out, his voice echoing through the empty hallway. You turn to face him, your eyes widening in surprise at the sight of him standing there.

"Heeseung?" you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. "What are you doing here?"

Heeseung takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to say. "I need to talk to you," he says, his voice filled with urgency. "There's something I need to tell you, something I should have told you a long time ago."

He steps closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I was part of the bet," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it was never about winning a thousand dollars or proving anything to Jake. It was about proving something to myself—to prove that I could be the kind of guy who deserves someone like you."

Tears well up in your eyes as you listen to his confession, your heart aching with a mix of sadness and hope. "Heeseung…" you whisper, reaching out to touch his hand.

But Heeseung doesn't wait for you to say anything more. With a surge of courage, he leans in and presses his lips to yours, pouring all of his love and longing into the kiss. 

As Heeseung's lips meet yours in that soft, tender kiss, his hands gently find their way to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You feel the heat of his body against yours, the closeness intensifying the sensation of his lips moving against yours. His touch is gentle yet possessive, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as if memorizing every curve of your body.

You pull away, staring and laughing for a moment. 

"I love you," you whisper softly. 

"I love you more," he smiles back, quietly leaning his forehead against yours to quickly catch his lips on yours again. Maybe writing that article wasn't so bad after all.

[makahitaki]

If you gain a message from friend or stranger, claiming that they falsely reported you...don't reply

IT WILL LIKELY LOOK LIKE THIS:

This is a scam. when someone is threatening that you will be arrested by police/com under investstigation for fraud that's how you know it's a scam. They're trying to scare you into panicking so you don't think clearly. Makes it easier for them to get you to do what they want without question.

Am sure you know now, but no one gets an advance warning or notice of an arrest without proper email/government letter. They don't even get advance warning of an investigation. Police wouldn't be able to arrest anyone if they gave a heads up, and folks could destroy evidence if they had a heads up about being investigated. Makes sense now that you're calm right?

Be aware, be calm and text the owner of the discord account, if you know them, abd let them know they've been hacked.

[fazcinatingblog]

Oh yeah I have to fight and beg and plead with my boss tomorrow to not double the invoices for the BAS's just because the timesheet says

[romanoffsbish]

Method Acting

Scarlett Johansson x F!R

Request | When your friend gives you the leading role in her debut sapphic rom-com you find yourself elated, but then you see who her star-studded casting managed to be and suddenly you aren’t too sure what to do. How does one work with their crush in such intimate ways and not swoon further? | WC: 2,516

Smut: Masturbation (R) — Non-con 👀 (SJ) | Mommy (SJ) | Oral / Fingering (R) | Thigh-Riding (SJ) | Overstimulation (R)

18+ | Minors DNI

"Where'd all that confidence go, hm?" You gulped, not only to remain in character, but because Scarlett was literally hovering over your body and it was like the air around you'd thinned. Your head felt light, but you still managed to stutter out your line, "I-It was a r-ruse."

Bentley chuckled, "You know, I don't think I mind," then she lowered her smirking face into the crook of your neck, your breath dramatically hitched, and you threw your head back to give her the necessary space to leave behind her pale pink gloss for the camera to see.

——

This was meant to be acting, but she wasn't exactly not sucking a partial mark into your skin, fortunately it was hidden from any lens viewpoint, and it only really added to the scene as you moaned out affectedly.

"There you go Raina," she rasped against your cheek, smearing her collected spit and gloss on the skin. "I knew you'd be a perfect little dove for your mommy, you just needed me to help dumb you down, hm..."

You whimpered the title inquisitively, giving off the characters innocent girl aura as her lips clashed into yours, but deep in your soul you wanted to scream it.

Well, for the blonde starlet that is, Scarlett was nothing short of a goddess, her beauty perceivably effortless. It came with many perks, one of those being the ability to have people figuratively crumble before her. You had actually done so physically when you first shook her hand, it was embarrassing and she's teased you since.

When she wasn't teasing you though she was a natural nurturer. There was a calmness she brought to your anxious life that you were going to miss when filming inevitably comes to an end. Which was actually taking place this week, today you were working on the climax.

Bentley, her character, finally had a chance to corner Raina so that she could finally prove her love with the length of her fingers. Up until now your character had been avoiding Bentley as they were forced to see one another at the weekend long reception of a mutual.

Maritza, the director, screenwriter, and best friend of yours wanted the sex to feel real, so she is letting you two feel it out in a set of scenes. Scarlett appreciated the artistic creativity, because she wanted nothing more than to bring you to bliss, even if only fictionally as she knew the cameras were rolling. You genuinely liked the idea of an organic, sapphic scene too, but you just wished it could have been with any other actress.

Not the one you were recklessly falling in love with.

"Cut!" The director called after she felt there was enough tension, and kissing caught for the scene. She was also your very best friend, and knew you were likely spiraling beneath the surface; below Scarlett.

As soon as the director gave you the all clear for the night you took off without even sparing the blonde a glance. Months on this set with her and she'd teased you every step of the way, playing on your obvious crush, the one you'd publicized just a year ago.

"Y/N, who's your celebrity crush?" It was an easy question to answer, and since you were such a newcomer in the acting world it felt harmless to give them one, "Scarlett Johansson, she is just so gorgeous, and that voice of hers is just, ugh, don't even get me started." Or so you thought. Because not even three months later did you find out she'd be playing the love interest in this low-budget, cheesy sapphic rom-com.

The blonde was absolutely ecstatic when she got the script in her email because it came with your name attached. This was your closest friend's script, so you were given the lead without any issues, except for the casting. Without you ever knowing she took a shot in the dark by sending it to the woman who'd grown interested in you the moment she saw you in that interview. When you got the casting news you were mortified, and the blonde used that to her advantage.

There was no denying you meant it when she arrived on set for the chemistry read through, you were a bit of a stuttering mess—true to the character, but it was clear to the blonde that you were just being yourself. Scarlett played the part a bit too well, but she still kept it hidden that she desired you too. Until tonight she'd believed it was never going to go anywhere, but then you moaned in her ear and she realized it had to.

You weren't the only one affected by the small scene.

Scarlett was outside your trailer, her fingers flexed against the chill of the air as she prepared herself to knock on your door. It was Thursday night, normally she would go home, but she knew you were staying on the lot to cut costs so she felt compelled to stop by.

Without an answer she took it upon herself to open the door, noting her worry as the excuse for why she did. When she entered the trailer she was overwhelmed by a heady scent, and as she turned the corner to find you with your hand buried between your legs she'd found the delightful source. Scarlett said nothing as her body leaned against the wall, eyes focused in on the way your puffy lips devoured three of your fingers whole.

"Scarlett..."

The blonde's eyes snapped up to your face, fearing that she'd been caught, but it proved to be the other way around as you moaned her name upon releasing.

"My character's name is Bentley," she cooly teased, startling you into yelping and scrambling to grab the blanket that had bunched up by the end of your bed. Scarlett beat you to it, taking a predatory leap forward so that she could keep you from hiding your body. "None of that baby girl, don't hide from me now."

"S-Scar," you breathlessly muttered her name, or better yet part of it as she cupped your jaw and kissed you into a state of stunned silence. "Let's practice our scene for tomorrow darling, make it extra authentic."

"I-I don't think—." Scarlett slipped her thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your teeth to still you. "Oh, pretty girls like you should never try to think."

When she released her grip on your mouth she'd forcefully pushed you back onto the mattress, making your body bounce and driving your mind into madness all while she slipped out of her sweatsuit. The arousal you'd already felt doubled in intensity, mind alit with the endless possibilities for how this could go. Your mouth slowly filled with saliva as she sauntered closer to you while only dressed in her expensive lingerie set.

"You're so beautiful," you softly acknowledged and she offered you a genuine smile in return. Her lips gently pressed to yours as soon as she climbed over you and you both melted at the touch. "Thank you angel."

Scarlett took her time with kissing you, she didn't even move to deepen it until she felt your slick on her skin.

"I'm going to devour you Raina," she winked playfully and you met her tease with a smile that warmed her heart. "Make my dreams come true then Bentley."

Something about hearing her characters name didn't sit well with her, even if she had started the play on words, joking shoved aside she needed you to know this was more than a over the top scene preparation.

Scarlett pulled your body down the mattress by your ankles, throwing your legs open she took in a big whiff as her nose nuzzled into your plush thigh. "It seems I'll be making both of ours come true," she laboredly breathed against your slick cunt, "Just as long as you know there's no copyright on Scarlett," she winked and husked as your eyes widened, "Scream it for me Y/N."

"Oh Scarlett," you cried as soon as her tongue firmed itself against your folds, a long, drawn out moan left her as she tasted your glorious slick for the first time. The both of you were immensely pleased, your body began to squirm the more you felt your orgasm build. Her arm had to lay against your abdomen to hold you down so that her tongue could lash at you unchecked.

Your pleasure was entirely under her control, and the thought alone had the both of you teetering over the edge, ready to fall further into one another. Scarlett was unsure how that was even possible though, she'd loved you after a month into the filming, on a night when cast and crew rented out the local bar and she actually went regardless of her star power status. It was the only time you'd talked to her so openly, the booze in your system dropped your nerves and you let her hear all of your hometown childhood stories.

There was a twinkle of purity in your eye that she found refreshing that night, but this new glossy look you wore was far more enticing to the blonde starlet.

You looked almost peaceful, but beneath the surface you were absolutely losing your mind. Her masterful tongue was showing your fingers up in real time, your hot slick flowing out of you as if you were a leaking faucet, slowly dripping down from her chin and settling atop of the exposed skin of her bare breasts.

Which only made her move with more efficiency, her tongue slowly curled inside of you, caressing your g-spot as the tip of her nose pressed into your clit and you lost control of your every sense. Gasping for air as pleasure coursed through your trembling form, blurry white stars filled your vision as your eyes crossed and the taste of something metallic coated your tongue as you harshly bit down on your lower lip before you were screaming incoherently, her name sinfully intermixed.

You felt her smirk against your thigh and couldn't help but to smile yourself as you felt her kiss up your body with a softness that transcended all prior carnality. There was this break in the tension as she tenderly locked her lips to yours, tongues dancing around the other as her hands anchored to your chest, fondling the malleable skin as if it was second nature. Soft whines reverberated into her mouth the longer that she played with your sensitive breasts as she kissed you dumb.

Eventually the blonde felt this intense urge to satiate her own body, so she pulled back and you whimpered. "Fuck, you're so hot Y/N," she groaned as she stared at you, so beautifully spaced out, the thin line of spit tethering your lips together snapped as she grinned.

"You know, you're my celebrity crush too," she teased, finding amusement in the way you tried to shimmy away from her, but her hands firmly pressed down, keeping your body stilled by her grip on your breasts.

"Don't try and run now darling," she purred against your neck, her face having dipped down so that she could finish the job she started during your shoot.

"Scar, th-the movie," you warned but she simply didn't care, the woman chuckled against your skin, "Oh love, you know as well as I do that make up can cover this, plus, this is really just us aiding the film, you know?"

Scarlett continued on bruising your soft skin with her teeth as you couldn't, nor did you really want to, find a reason to dissuade her from her current ministrations. Just as soon as she was satisfied with her hard work she flipped you onto your stomach without warning.

A low moan left the both of you as her cunt touched down, your body shivered as her slick smeared onto the back of your thigh, the idea that you'd turned her on that much hadn't even permeated your mind until now and with the physical evidence you felt powerful. Even if she was on top, you aided her by tensing your muscles to which she rewarded you with a hoarse moan and two fingers that slid between your slick lips.

The both of your bodies moved in steamy tandem, your front being pressed further into the mattress with every rough thrust of her fingers and hips. The room soon became a lewd symphony as your skin slapped together and the both of your slick seeped and spread, all working to drown out your soft, choked moans.

With her free hand no longer on your hip you were thrown further into the depths of pleasure as her palm roughly pressed down on your abdomen just as her fingers reached your depth, your body jerked but she just kept going down until she could play with your clit.

"Mommy," you screamed the desired honorific, it almost sounded like a plea for mercy, but the blonde had none to show you, she instead slid a third finger into your core causing you to spasm uncontrollably. Which in turn tensed your muscles up even further, and sent her into a state of immense bliss, her teeth instinctively sunk into your shoulder and drew blood.

Her body had arched back then dropped to the side of yours in a matter of seconds, her fingers stayed buried within your warmth, almost like a place of comfort. It took you far longer than her to regain your composure as this was actually your fifth orgasm of the evening. The other two having happened before she caught you.

Nevertheless, you were able to form a sentence as you felt her fingers vacate your pussy, "W-what was this?"

Scarlett had been shifting to a place of comfort when your disconcerting question was aired, you caught her completely off guard but upon settling her cheek down on your bare ass she hummed softly in thought. Then as she really thought about it, imagining a future where you'd part ways after filming ended, she frowned.

"You're mine," she tiredly growled against the sweaty skin of your ass, her teeth nibbled at the round flesh as she gave you her answer (demand). "Then, now, the point is you'll always be mine Y/N so get comfortable."

"I'm plenty comfortable," you murmured, words a bit muffled as your face burrowed into your silky pillow. Scarlett smiled to herself, her heart officially settled now that she knows you understood; you were hers, this sinful endeavor was her official sealing of a deal.

Her worn down body sidled up by your side, still her strong arm wrapped around your midsection so that she could pull you close enough for her to feel your body against hers. "Goodnight baby girl, I think we've done enough work to ensure the scene will be a hit..."

—

When tomorrow came, and the scene was shot you two found it only took one go as the sexual chemistry was palpable. Maritza had winked, and mouthed a 'your welcome' thinking that you'd just won the blonde over, but unbeknownst to her this was just an encore...

Or as the sapphics would simply call it, round two.