#I complain about it a lot but I’ve worked there almost 11 years and I do like the work and my coworkers

[raeathnos]

.

[machiavellli]

Lip oils recommendations🍒✨

@gufu-vire I’ve always wanted to this, thanks for the opportunity 😌

From the most expensive to the cheapest…

I. Clarins Lip Comfort Oil - 30$

I’ve tried those two shades (Cherry and Pitaya) for months now and those are simply amazing. 1. The color is so pretty and it absolutely doesn’t get into the lines of your lips. 2. Very hydrating, I have crusty dry lips and I can use this on a daily basis without having my lips dry at the end of the day. Also the container doesn’t leak! Lovely soft candy smell too! My only complain is the price…worth it yes, but so expensive. Wide range of shades. 9.5/10

II. Gisou Honey Infused Hydrating Lip Oil - 28$

I would eat those for breakfast. They are so shiny, so tasty and the colors are beautiful. I’ve only tried those two shades, Mango Passion Punch and Watermelon sugar, and oh my if they have a good taste and smell, never had a lip oil smell THIS good. Also, this is so hydrating, really. Your lips are going to be SO SMOOTH (so comfortable), it works just like the most hydrating lip balm you could possibly find. I am so glad they did this tinted version, because I couldn’t bare the smell of the original one (it smells like fried food and even if that hydrating, I couldn’t use it😭). The best lip oil I’ve ever had (I only had those for a week, but I’ve been using them constantly, but in case something goes wrong in the future, I’ll do an update here). Also very expensive, but shut up and take my money for this. And again, SO SHINY OMG. 10/10

III. CLINIQUE Almost Lipstick - 25$

This is not actually a lip oil, like, not totally, because it is still emollient like an oil and also I wanted to talk about it since it was everywhere last year. The color got me obsessed with berry lip tints, it changed my idea of “ideal color” forever. Still, I expected so much better. I have dry lips, as I mentioned before, and this isn’t hydrating enough and for a product of THAT price it isn’t really acceptable. My lips always crack after not even thirty minutes, the trick is to put underneath a basic transparent lip balm and voilà, but you know…in italy I payed even more than in the us for this product and I was disappointed (30€ which is way more that 25$). The black honey from clique was a cultural reset and I shall try one day the liquid form, hopefully that will be more hydrating. Still, the color on the lips is so beautiful yet natural. Not sentenced. 7/10

IV. Pacifica GLOW STICK Lip Oil - 11$

This is what the Clinique one should’ve been. I originally bought this because I was searching for a dupe of the black honey and, oh my, if I striked right (I bought this one before the og). The effect on the lips is the SAME, you can’t tell them apart, the shade is Crimson Crush. Also, this one really does the job, it is hydrating, not as much as other presented here before, but it works well and the price is good! Not sentenced. There are also other very cute shades. Also I think that a stick lip oil is genius. 9/10

V. NYX FAT OIL LIP DRIP - 9$

This one almost feels like a lip gloss from how glossy it is. Also the shades can be either sheer, a slight tint, or also almost a full color. I have the shades Status Update and That’s Chic and I used them a lot this summer. The color doesn’t last too long, but it a lip oil what do you expect, it’s transferable. Not sentenced. Can get in the lines of your lips. Very pretty overall, very good price and also great shade range (I want to try some more of those uhh). Container doesn’t leak! A very solid 8/10

VI. Essence hydra kiss LIP OIL - like 3-4$

Lovely lip oil, the formula is very comfortable and soooooo hydrating. An awkesome every day lippie and colors are very nice. I have no complains except one: the container leaks. I can’t bring it anymore with me because it has become all sticky on the outside, thankfully we had a long run before this, I’m almost out of it anyway (I ate it gnam😀) . Not sentenced. Otherwise, sooo good! 7.99/10 for the container not the product

VII. Essence Cranberry tinted lip oil - also 3-4$

This lip oil is THAT GIRL. Amazing, so surprised the first time I tried and now look at us, at the second empty bottle, hoping to find another one somewhere, since it is hard to find it in store. So hydrating and you get the cutest tint!! Essence never does one wrong when it comes to shiny lips and I love them for that. The container doesn’t leak!! Not sentenced. 10/10!

Thanks for coming to my ted talk hihi🫶

[kitkatsudon]

What made you want to start writing Unbreakable?

(PS I got tumblr for your Gonjo theories lol)

Wow, thank you so much for asking! And first of all let me say that I’m really honoured that you care enough about my theories to make this account 🥺 I need to post more to be honest, but right now a lot of them are caught in a trap of being spoilers for the next important project.

As for why I wanted to write Unbreakable… the short answer is that, as a Yeong stan I was unsatisfied with Taegon, and it annoyed me so much that I felt compelled to write a fic to fix that SKFSLKJFKLJK something where Gon would have to face consequences for how Yeong was mistreated, before eventually they would be able to make each other happy for the rest of their lives. This was… perhaps inspired a little by my own life at the time, where I was in a complicated situation with a straight girl that I liked, a kind of situation where it was almost as if we were together even though we weren’t… and recently she’d got a boyfriend, and I was pretty heartbroken despite having no real reason to be 😅😅 it’s embarrassing looking back, but I connected with Yeong a lot because I saw my situation at the time in how he might have felt about Taegon.

The longer answer is that while that was the initial reason, it quickly became more than that. I have a bad habit of writing the first chapter of a fic without really knowing where it’s going, I just know where I want it to start, and only when that first chapter is done do I really start thinking about “cooler” twists and turns for the story to take. The act of writing the fic itself made me start thinking about Yeong’s family, and wanting to explain the age gap between Yeong/Eunseob and the twins while also trying to explain why Yeong is the way he is. I have a habit of making myself sad while daydreaming about my beloved blorbos, and my general rule of thumb is “ohh this would be awful - let’s write it!”

The surprising thing for me, however, was how as the story progressed… it stopped being a way to vent from Yeong’s point of view, and I started to really identify a lot more with Gon as I was writing. Obviously I was still feeling Yeong as well, but what started off as a way to complain about Gon turned into something where I really wanted to explain his point of view in a way that was sympathetic and understandable. To be honest, I think a lot of this came from my friends at the time telling me that they think I’m autistic, and then me looking at Lee Gon and going “wait a damn minute… why does the research I’ve been doing seem to fit with how I’ve been writing him?” Then I started projecting, and from about chapter 11? 12? onwards I started doing what I’d accidentally been doing before on purpose, and that also became a big driving factor. This is a hill I will die on, and at some point in the next… well, few years, being honest with myself about how fast I’m working now I’m at uni, I do want to make a post on this headcanon for Gon because it’s important to my heart, but I want to finish my detailed rewatch of the show first. TL;DR, halfway through writing I switched sides from being a Yeong defender to a Gon apologist, and then that became a big driving force for the fic.

But mostly… they just live rent-free in my head, and that was the summer after I finished school so I had a lot of free time to write, and I really enjoyed working all my headcanons at the time into a fic that tied up enough loose ends to satisfy me after the show just left me feeling frustrated. Nowadays, Unbreakable is kind of out of date for me honestly - working on another fic with @irregularpeach has created so many more headcanons than I ever could have dreamed up on my own, and now the multiverse is pretty extensive in my mind 😅

I hope you didn’t regret asking me this question - it’s perhaps a mistake to get me talking about my precious blorbos, because I will talk. From my part, thank you for giving me this opportunity to shamelessly witter on about my fic, this really made me smile when I saw it!

[miikishii]

To Hold the Sea | Ch. 11

main masterlist

series masterpost | previous chapter | next chapter

Synopsis: hehhehehehehe (domestic fluff-ish)

Warnings: none

Arriving home, you’re still proud of your effort to communicate with Dazai. You’re still thinking of him, even when Ango asks if you’d like to grab dinner or lunch sometime this week. The thoughts of him don’t leave even when you reply with a calm, collected,

“Sure.”  

You discuss your schedules and decide on two days from now; it’s the first time in a while he has time off. You wonder what you’re doing with yourself. You wonder what got Dazai so worked up in the first place. Then it hits you; Jealousy? No. He’s just mad it’s Ango you’d chosen to hang out with; a traitor. Dazai doesn’t get jealous, you know this.

Nevertheless, you spend a lot of time trying to convince yourself, truly, that it’s not his reason. The tension between the two of you fades over the next two days. You hear him complaining to Atsushi about walking to your office much less; instead, he just drops off the papers you need quickly and quietly. Soon enough, it’s time for you and Ango to have dinner. You meet him there and, for the first time in what must be years, he’s wearing casual clothes. It makes you chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, a playful but nervous smirk on his face,

“Nothing, just, God, I don’t think I’ve seen you wear anything but that damn suit in years.”

“What’s wrong with my suit?”

“Nothing, I just would’ve thought it was plastered to your body.”

“You didn’t notice? It’s on under my sweater.” He says sarcastically.

You laugh heartily.

It’s playful banter you haven’t had for a while, not with him at least. It’s fun seeing him again; he’s less uptight than the last time you saw him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he seemed relaxed.

“Have things calmed down at the agency?”

“A little, I’ve still got more paperwork than normal, but I haven’t had to do any overtime,”

“That’s good.”

“I’ll guess you can’t say the same.” he clicks his tongue,

“Of course not, but I’m glad to finally have a day off.” He sighs,

“You really should fight for those a little more. I know you’re important but they can’t just keep you holed up in your office all the time!”

“I just like to make sure everything’s on time; it’s my own choice.” You look at him skeptically.

“Anyways…”

“You don’t have to believe me, I’ll keep at it no matter what.”

“Perseverance. Very impressive.” You deadpan. He shrugs.

“Do you even see the light of day over there? Do you get a lunch break?”

“It’s not a prison.”

“It might as well be…”

“I can apparently have visitors, so long as I approve them for an appointment…” He looks at you through his bangs.

“Are you implying something..?”

“No, no! I just- I’m not trapped there.”

“Prisons allow visitors, you know?” He resists the urge to facepalm.

When your food arrives it seems much less important than your conversations. You couldn’t have expected dinner to go so well. Just like the last time you met, you can’t help but stare at him. He’s barely changed, appearance or personality; you can’t tell if you like it better that way or not. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but you’re almost certain he’s staring back. 

“So… what are you doing later?” He asks as you finish your plate,

“Nothing.”

Radio silence.

“Still have any ice cream you need help eating in your freezer..?” he asks, swallowing hard, preparing for rejection.

“I think I do, actually.”

“You do?”

“I do.”

He laughs his anxiety away gently,

“We might want to get going then, yeah? Did you take the train?” You nod.

“I can drive you home.”

The car ride is spent in significantly less stress than the last time. The soft ambiance of the radio fills your ears. You let your head sway with the beat, and you swear you catch him smiling out of the corner of your eye. The walk up to your apartment is calm, too; the night air is cool and refreshing. You take off your shoes and walk into the kitchen, searching your freezer for any dessert you can find before giving up completely,

“I don’t actually have any ice cream… sorry.”

“I, uh, I don’t mind. Not hungry anymore anyways.”

“Do you want to watch something?” he just shrugs,

“... I think we can just be normal.” He mumbles.

“Normal?”

“Yeah… Normal. Like we used to.” He gets quieter with each word he says.

You try your best to ignore that he just made this sort of awkward; he has that kind of effect on things. He clears his throat anxiously,

“I have my work bag in my car, do you mind if I work on some things here?”

“Yeah, sure…”

As he gets up and goes you wonder what you expected to get out of tonight; you wonder whether your intentions were innocent. Was he wondering the same? Were you cursed to always be the only one overthinking things?

You set yourself up on your couch while you wait for him to come back. For a second, you think he might not, but he does; you know he doesn’t do things like that. Soon, you hear the clicking of keys at your counter. It’s relaxing having someone around.

“Is the TV too distracting?” you hear his typing stop for a second,

“No, I don’t mind.”

“Then why don’t you come sit over here?” he doesn’t hesitate to get up and move beside you. Your intentions are clearer to yourself now, still muddied with doubt but visible.

“What are you working on?”

“Hm? Oh, just a case report.” You make a sound to acknowledge his words and turn back to the TV. Your eyelids feel heavier by the second, but when you start to drift off you hear the clicking of keys slowly cease. You look to Ango who’s face is growing limp with sleep, eyes falling slowly to rest. 

“Ango..?” you whisper and nudge him slightly but he doesn’t respond. His job does this to him; you know he’s more than just tired. he’s exhausted. every day.

‘He… can’t drive home like this, surely.’ you think to yourself. You carefully place his laptop on your side table before hurrying to your room to grab an extra blanket. Placing it over him, you realize he might crush his glasses if he moves around too much. With a steady hand, you take them from his face, putting them neatly on top of his laptop. 

“I shouldn…” He mumbles, barely audible. You’re shocked by his voice, however weak it is. When you turn to him his eyes are still closed. You turn off the TV and head to your room quietly. As you fall asleep you hope he’ll sleep in a bit, given that tomorrow is a weekend.

note: I love Ango fluff.

[nekrotiize]

Speaking again on the Blue Robot Twitter RP thing. Putting this under a cut, since it’s a bit long, and I’m writing this a little more formally than my last rant. I didn’t expect many people to see that, on account of community size, but it occurs to me I should’ve at least put a little bit of protective measures for people to be able to more easily tap in or out of the conversation. It is a triggering one. I apologize to anyone who was negatively impacted. Rectifying it now, though.

Content Warning: Discussion of Fandom Toxicity, False Accusations.

For those unaware, I was the writing team lead from the revival a few years back, and wrote several characters myself (10 mainly, 11 later, co-wrote 01). I was a late teenager for most of that, and I became something of a scapegoat for people’s complaints of everything wrong with the revival, despite not actually being the one who penned most of the things complained about. Whenever a comparison to the good of the revival was put up, it was almost always my work. (I’m allowed to brag, I was put through hell.)

I was not allowed to clarify that the people that were being spoken of as if they were me were not actually me, because the writing team essentially had code-of-honor-enforced NDAs on them. You just didn’t tell people you were the writer of a character due to the ARG elements. Any sort of hinting at you were the writer, or even outright saying it, was “dropping the curtain”. So, I basically had to just deal with the fact that several targets were put on my back that weren’t even actually mine.

Several people were violently, hatefully obsessed with me, and this lead to me getting constantly vagueposted, shittalked, accused of things like child predation/being a pedophile/supporting pedophilia for zero reason, despite being a victim myself (this got so bad that David, the CEO, had to get involved), et cetera. It was extremely nasty. A lot of people in that community were very deeply angry people, and would stop at nothing to make everyone hate whatever they hated. Assuming the worst in people was a reflex to many. It was extremely volatile and toxic.

I tried to keep everything in order as best as I could. I poured in countless hours of work to this community that seemingly hated me, a job that did not pay me, and completely ruined my mental health (I think I’m mostly recovered now, though, which is a big victory). I was the guy who did most of the work on the wiki, planned a bunch of fan favorite arcs, made a fuck ton of music and art, et cetera. Nothing I ever did was enough for people.

I know some people are confused as to how such a small community could be so toxic. I really want to address that, since it was something that confused me at first, too. I thought, naïvely, that less people would mean toxicity was easily to quell and manage- and in this case, I was wrong.

In this case, less people meant toxicity spread faster, and was less diluted.

Everyone knew everyone. I thought this was a pro, an objectively good thing that would stop- or at least hinder- people from crafting up petty drama and stirring the pot. After all, accusing someone you know of something is a lot harder than accusing a stranger. It’s easier to assume the worst in someone when you don’t know anything about them.

What instead happened was that the “everyone knew everyone” aspect made for the absolute ripest conditions for a panopticon I’ve ever seen. Everyone knew everyone. Everyone had a weapon trained at everyone. If you didn’t have a weapon trained at somebody, you’re getting shot yourself. I didn’t like the idea of pointing guns at people for no reason, so I got shot. Like, a lot, lol.

I think at least a solid chunk as to why this was the case was, like… The fault of the construction of the fanbase in general? As in, the kind of people that composed it. It wasn’t something you knew about unless you were deeply online (red flag one), on Twitter (red flag two), and super into the vocal synthesis fandom (red flag three). “Deeply online Twitter users super into vocal synthesis as a fandom” is a very cursed sentence, because… Frankly, not a lot of people who are even just one of these things are very hinged people. Being deeply online desensitizes you to the fact that the people you interact with online are people, Twitter functions very literally on an algorithm that very enthusiastically enables and emboldens outrage, and the vocal synthesis fandom as a whole is very… Weirdly discourse filled, and generally just not a very nice group of people to be around.

In retrospect… It’s kind of a no-brainer that it would be a pretty toxic place to be, full of hateful, angry people who don’t understand that their actions have weight and consequences. I just couldn’t see this when I was younger.

… Because I was the guy who accidentally revived the fandom to begin with. I just… Started making a bunch of art of my own mental image of the story, and a pairing I thought would work really well (I made 10/01 as a ship). I didn’t expect this dead-for-years fandom to come back to life, just because I was drawing things for myself.

I didn’t expect it to be this way. I didn’t expect any eyes on me. I didn’t expect that vile little corpse to come back to life, and I didn’t expect that it contained a hideous, hateful miasma of rot and venom in it that would ruin lives, including mine.

It almost makes me feel a bit guilty. If I hadn’t drawn those pieces, this fandom would’ve never been revived, and all those people would have never gotten hurt.

It sucks.

It really does suck a lot.

I am so deeply sorry to those who have been hurt. You did not deserve this.

[candycandy00]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you so much for tagging me, @scary-grace! This was a lot of fun!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 

18, though I’ve only posted a fraction of my BNHA stuff on there and there’s even some JJK stuff I haven’t posted there yet. 

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

217,870. And wow it took me way too long to find that lol. I didn’t even know about the Statistics page! 

3. What fandoms do you write for? 

Currently, Jujutsu Kaisen and Boku no Hero Academia. I wrote for a ton of different fandoms back in my “previous era” I’ll call it lol. I wrote for One Piece, Naruto, Final Fantasy (mostly 7 and 12), Death Note, Gundam Wing, Harry Potter, Durarara!!, and lots of other things (almost all of it featuring non canon ships like Cloud x Yuffie and L x Misa). I’d like to try writing for Bungou Stray Dogs and Demon Slayer at some point. 

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

The Doll House (2,280)

Human (390)

The Offering (377)

How to Seduce a Gamer (300)

Little Miss Nobody (234)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! But sometimes if it’s a comment on an older chapter of something I might not or if I got several close together I miss a few and then I’m too embarrassed to go back and respond later. Or if they just comment with an emoticon, I’m not sure how to reply lol. 

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

In my current era, it’s definitely the Mr. Compress chapter of The Dark Carnival. I have other fics that end badly for Reader but this one felt very tragic to me. 

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? 

Most of mine have pretty happy endings! 

8. Do you get hate on fics? 

Current era, I occasionally get people complaining that certain Readers are wimpy or stupid or whatever. I even had one person on AO3 write out a huge wall of text about how one of my Reader characters was a Mary Sue (they simultaneously complained that she was too weak and useless in a fight but also too perfect). But I tend to shrug off those comments. Readers are supposed to be Mary Sues. They’re literally Reader/Writer self inserts! Part of the appeal of x Reader fanfiction is the fantasy of Reader being an idealized version of yourself. So yeah she can hang out with the League of Villains and be the only girl Dabi has ever liked, or she can be old high school buddies with Gojo and Geto and they’re both crazy about her. It’s all fantasy. 

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? 

Yes! And I write pretty much all kinds that don’t involve my three “big no’s” (minors, animals, or scat/pee/vomit). 

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? 

Not since I was a kid, writing Sailor Moon/DBZ crossovers lol. 

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? 

Not in my current era, not that I know of. In my previous era, I wrote a Gundam Wing fanfic that got really popular in the fandom and was ripped off twice. Not exactly copied word for word, but very close in both cases. They basically changed the wording around a bit but kept the entire plot the same (and it was a very unique AU with a big, sprawling plot). 

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? 

Not that I know of!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? 

Like 20+ years ago a friend and I were co-writing a very fucked up DBZ fanfic together. It was actually pretty good, but it was unfortunately lost to time. I’d give anything to find it and be able to read it again, but she’s the one who was posting it and she deleted her account a few years later. 

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? 

I’m just gonna go with my current fave ships of my two main fandoms: BNHA (Spinneraki) and JJK (SatoSugu). 

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? 

Probably The League of Villains Heroes. I love it dearly but it gets practically no notes so I have little motivation to keep working on it. 

16. What are your writing strengths? 

I’ve always felt like dialogue is my strong point. Probably because, until I was up into my 20’s, I rarely read actual books and almost exclusively read comics/manga (which tend to be dialogue heavy). I think I’m pretty decent with plotting as well. 

17. What are your writing weaknesses? 

Descriptions! 😩 I am so bad at describing things. Or rather, I’m bad to just… not do it. I literally forget to. I’ve had friends read my work and be like “what does this place look like?” Or “what does that guy look like?” And I can see it all so clearly in my head that I forget readers can’t see it as well. 

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? 

I sometimes toss in some honorifics just because it seems weird to have certain characters not use them. Other than that, I try to avoid throwing in random Japanese (the only other language I would even consider using, just because these are Japanese characters). I did have Sukuna say his famous “Gambare, gambare” line once but it’s just too iconic! 

19. First fandom you wrote for? 

First I wrote for: Sailor Moon. First I actually posted a fic online for: Dragon Ball Z. 

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? 

I’m going to pick one from each fandom, only among completed fics. 

BNHA: Trending Topics

JJK: The Offering

Tagging @missrosegold and any other writer friends who would like to do this!

[petrovna-zamo]

What does it mean if Katya is putting up her costumes on depop already, new costumes? Their tour ain't even finished yet.. admittedly it's only the leotard/skirt from NY and the final number.. but im too emotionally attached to this tour that I don't want any of it sold 🥺

Well, if you want to commiserate about the fact that Katya will literally touch a piece of fabric for one second and then immediately sell it on her Depop… You’ve come to the right place! It makes me so sad too. I know she loves to immediately clean out her closet to make space for the new and she’s always done this but still it stings a little. Normally I’d say get the bag sis go ahead and overcharge for the privilege to smell your smoke and sweat soaked garments but in this case (and actually all cases because I’m sad every time she’s does this) I’m like… is nothing scared?! Katya you don’t need the money please save something! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again but in 10 years time Trixie will have a whole museum dedicated to everything she ever wore and Katya will be living in the woods without a trace to remember her by.

But if it means anything? Besides the fact that she’s definitely not as attached as us lol… No I don’t think so. She’s selling the previous versions of costumes she’s since updated and she’s done that before. Also I don’t think there will be a lot of new changes or updates for the last couple of shows since there’s only 11 left. You never know though! But it is sad that she’ll sell stuff she and Andrew/Astor Yang have made as well as pieces from drag and costume designers like Marco Marco/Dallas Coulter/Amie Sarazan… these are all very talked people and I want their work appreciated by all… but I don’t necessarily believe that means a resale is needed. The only perk is that we now know more about the clothes like the fact that she has at least two leotard versions (makes sense it’s good to have a backup). But all of this does give me an excuse to talk about the changes in the costumes she’s sold so far…

During the first leg of T&K live for the NY/NY number their dresses/leotards were a brighter pink/red sequined fabric but more high cut around the legs and they complained about it during the live pod in Austin (you can see their shapewear and after the skirt reveals they were always adjusting their outfits like it was uncomfortable) so it makes sense they updated those. The newer versions are more full coverage around the legs and are lined around the neckline. I will say I don’t like the almost silvery sheen to the sequin fabric they used this time because the dress colors look more muted? But maybe it was just what they had available. Just in my opinion the originals captured the light better in photos.

For the closing Chicago number they added the fringe to the bodysuit and gloves. 10/10 improvement. Turned cute leotards into flapper fringe mini dresses perfect for dancing. No notes.

Now for the robes they went from sequins to shiny and I think they look sleeker and more distinctive from all the other shades of red and pink they’ve previously used in the show. A+++.

The iconic Cекси outfit… loved the upgrade from the first leg to what she wore in AUS/NZ but this final version is the perfect combo of the original outfit and the more sexy update. Plus it fits better and she can move around in it more. All excellent choices here but they settled on the best for sure.

So while I’m sad about all of these original costumes being sold I don’t thing there’s anything deeper going on here besides it’s definitely ending and she’s definitely not saving anything despite all of us definitely wishing that was not the case!

If anyone has their eye on anything, especially the updated versions of the costumes, save up now and turn those notifications on because there’s a 99% chance she’ll sell them one day. Honestly there’s a lot I would be tempted to buy because I love literally everything she wears but I’d rather shes hang onto it in the off chance she wears it again. Maybe once this tour is all said and done I’ll do a full T&K Live costume retrospective and then a follow up with an in memoriam post once she inevitably sells everything…

[vestmains]

Eden eternal vendetta levelinh

Players = Donations = Server up and running. So tell me again how you would keep a server runing with 15-25 players and no donations when the costs are 150-250$/month? To pay the server cost you will need donations. Servers are based on the community and player-base.įor a server to keep running you will need to pay the server costs. I understand you though perfect world and other games we hosted were awesome and I'd love to go back to them but they're old games that have no means for unique content, they demand x10000 rates and I am a fan of making challenges and fun systems not a high rate pvp server were people spend more time on your back instead of playing the game its not fun in the end.Ok to all of you that is complaining about VG closing down their servers and think running a private server is easy, here is something for you to think about. As well as income dropping and people leaving like crazy it's safe to say we didn't have an audience to continue except a few hackers who were ruining the servers economy with a injection hack even aeria couldn't stop for a while so we had grounds and means to fix it but after a long time of us fighting and helping the server the community didnt care. They asked for pvp but never helped us out and every system we done to fix the situation failed. Besides those games we've had year old games scarlet blade was 2 year old before we shut it down and our reasons behind shutting it down was because the game was heavily dependent on faction wars and 99% of the server chose 1 faction to win. The only other game with a short lifespan was Champions Online and that was one of the silly projects I chose to rush into without getting my head into it but again that never reached past beta stage. Dragons Prophet was a flop the server costs were 1k+ because it was so heavy on system requirements and with a 15gb client and 11 people playing who weren't donating you cannot ask me to be happy to run that for very long and so I didn't. I spend a lot of time learning the game and writing tools I spend no time asking for help and this is why when we bring games it works out well a lot of the time. But given the network's reputation we bring A class games almost every time that isn't just vanilla and away we go. Back when I had the time I said yes to a few projects I shouldn't have and I pay the price for that with the network's reputation. Though i still stand by that you should bring your old servers back and stop closing them.I feel you on this but being the only guy developing these games time is everything to me that's why I pick my projects wisely now. So if you are interested in Eden Eternal, I'd give it a go here. You need to make up your mind man.Įither way not interested in Eden Eternal, but I know that the Vendetta community usually does things well when it comes to their games. And Scarlet Blade was new and it just dropped off. I've seen almost all of your servers drop off the face of the earth. Not quite fair as the person stated above did. Hell, why not bring back scarlet blade? You seemed to drop everything out of the clear blue and to be quite honest, if your community is so big, you should bring back what it was as a hole. If you didn't have time before, what is to say you wont have time now? If anything we'd like to see your old servers come back.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Tying You To Me — Part 2

Summary: Lonely hearts meet at a bar and one thing leads to another. Can broken hearts and burned bridges be mended while twisted up in bedsheets?

Content Warnings: MINORS DNI Casual drinking, mentions of hook-ups/one night stands, running themes of infidelity, sexual innuendo. SMUT: dom!Spencer sub!Reader (will be Switch for both eventually), Pet Names: Good Girl, Sweet Girl (don’t yell at me because I used that one 11 times, it’s my FAVORITE), Praise, Light humiliation/degradation (slut/whore), ingestion of cum, Oral Sex (female receiving), Penetrative Sex without a condom, Birth Control (Shots) mentioned

Word Count: 9,700 (it's my longest fic yet!!)

Author's Note: Well here's the next part!! Thank you to @reidslibrarybook for being the best beta I could ever ask for! And thank you to everyone who read the first part! This is where things start to speed up! As always, every comment & reblog makes me so happy! I hope you all enjoy this part, it was a lot of fun to write

Part I- Illicit Affairs | Series Masterlist | Part III - TBD |

PART II - Motion Sickness

“You are going to get hammered or laid. Or both. At least buzzed, Y/N,”

“Liz,” Y/N says, holding her temples in anticipation of a headache, “is a Divorce Party really necessary? I mean is it really a celebration that I wasted 10 years of my life on that douchebag?” she laments, flopping on the bed next to her sister.

“It’s been, what a year since you’ve known he was fucking your neighbor? And you’re finally done with him. Now it’s your turn, Y/N, your whole life, you’ve been perfect,” Liz eyeing a group of man playing darts in the corner of the bar, “You deserve to let loose and get with a hot guy who’s name you won’t remember in the morning,”

“Liz, I think you forget I’m a mother,” Y/N says, reminding her sister that she’s the only responsible parent her daughter has.

“So? That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve love, Y/N,” Liz consoles, smirking when Y/N rolls her eyes at her, “or at least treated very generously for one night by an attractive stranger,”

“One drink,” Y/N barters, fixing her work blazer as she settles on to the barstool, “And only because mom agreed to be with Aster. James is too busy trying to get his dick up to even think about a plan for childcare. I mean, does he actually expect me to do this by myself,”

“Y/N, I love you. But let’s forget about James and what he did to you. Please, just get drunk and forget about that asshole,” Liz orders, waving over the waitress, “We’re so getting pretzel bites,”

“You give excellent advice, Liz,” Y/N says, sarcastically as she looks over the drink menu. Her sister means well, but doesn’t fully understand the complexity of a husband being unfaithful. On top of an already rocky marriage, it’s hard to explain that she’s almost happy he finally fucked up so badly that a divorce was acceptable.

Now she’s the sad little wife that got cheated on, but before she was the nagging wife who complained that her husband never did the dishes. Now, the world can sympathize with her. But before she would’ve been the villain. She'll have to be whatever version of herself that's most palatable to the world.

“Y/N here will have something strong. Lots and lots of alcohol,” Liz says as she orders their drinks and snacks, “Oooh how about a Mojito, you always liked those in college,”

College, the days when James’ impish smile and young spirit charmed her into believing that what she needed in her life was a little youth.

“Whiskey Sour, actually,” Y/N smiles, thanking the waitress, “Tonight is not a night that I want to be reminded by my college mistakes,”

“Sorry,” Liz apologies, realizing the misstep and what her sister was referencing, “I should have realized-”

“Lizzy, it’s fine. You mean well. You all mean well. You, mom, even dad. But it’s hard when you can’t actually feel what I feel. He humiliated me. Made me feel like I was crazy and I hate who I’ve become when I was with him,” Y/N whispers, circling her finger around the rim of the water glass.

Liz nods her head, unsure what to say to comfort Y/N, as she munches on the ruffled chips the waitress dropped off.

“ ‘Would Fuck My Dickhead Ex’ Shots fix this situation?” Liz asks, an coy smile, not unlike James’ on her face, but it’s a smile that’s more comforting than aggravating when it comes from her sister, “Indulge me, Y/N,”

“Fine,” Y/N says, pretending to be annoyed and give into Liz’s wishes, even though she knew it’s hard to resist her younger sister’s shenanigans, “but only because it’s you,” Y/N adds, smiling as she picks at the bar chips.

“First round is on you,” Liz says, holding her hands up in faux innocence, “Hey, you’re the corporate lawyer, I’m the artsy one in the family,” she laughs, “And there might be some cute lonely hearts at the bar that you can practice flirting with,”

“I’m not practicing flirting with anyone,” Y/N says, noticing the way Liz emphasized practice, “But what do you want? Peach Tart?”

“Whatever you want, you’re paying,” Liz says, “And hurry back, our pretzels are back!” she announces as the waitress brings over their pretzel bites and drinks.

Y/N had never been to this bar before. It was new, built in the last 2 years or so, which was just around the time when she became a partner at the law firm. An accomplishment that seemed to not even elicit a congratulations out of James, despite him being very excited about the pay raise. The bar’s soft lighting hung way above their heads. The Edison light bulbs gave it a quieter feel than louder bars. In a way it was even more lonely than a louder bar, kind of like how large parties are more private.

The bartender takes care of a couple of college kids, getting them their beer before asking Y/N what she wants. Two men sit a couple feet away from her, talking quietly amongst themselves. And a familiar mop of messy brown hair and hunched shoulders sit two seats away from her.

Spencer Reid, the only soul who knows exactly how complicated her life is.

His shirt smells like expensive perfume. The kind that women wear when they want men to notice them. She doesn’t blame her for wearing it, it’s nice to be noticed. It’s nice to lock eyes across a crowded room and wait for everything to start to move in slow motion. You get motion sickness from it. The feeling of his eyes on you, only you. The rush, the adrenaline, the way you’ll cast your gaze down. Playful, bashful, sexy. You’ll be anything he wants you to be because he notices you.

She probably wore it just for him. Picked it out because he’d liked the scent of it on her skin as he kissed her neck, leaving her mark on a taken man. Was that part of the thrill? Like wild animals marking a tree, is this expensive perfume a sign?

Y/N wants to wash away the smell of it. The evidence of his infidelity on his clothes lingers even when the act has ended. All that remains is the smell of his treachery, the bonds broken and vows severed. She should be mad, scathing mad. She should be ready to burn bridges until they’re torched, just ashes.

But all she feels is humiliated. Her husband, the man that stood up in front of her promising love and loyalty to the very end, decided that those very same vows weren’t worth it anymore. Y/N throws the shirt on the floor. It burns in her hands, leaving invisible scars on her skin.

It’s all over her now. The smell of James’s infidelity. The humiliation of his mistakes. Y/N isn’t a cowering lily. She doesn’t back down from a fight. She won’t let James have the satisfaction of thinking he hurt her, even though he did.

Yet, when she sits down on their bed she feels like it can swallow her whole. She feels tiny in the sea of messy blankets and wrinkled sheets. The perfume scent, expensive and potent, stains her skin. It’s dizzying and that familiar motion sickness creeps up on her. Her throat goes tight, tears threaten to sting. She won’t let him have this power over her. She won’t let him have her spirit after destroying her heart.

“Spencer Reid, in a bar,” Y/N says, quickly glancing over towards her sister before bringing her attention back to her neighbor, “that’s something I never thought I’d see,”

“Well neither was your husband fucking my wife, yet here we are,” he says, taking a sip of his beer. He grips the bottle like a lifeline, like it’s the only thing keeping him on this barstool. There’s a loneliness in his shoulders that Y/N recognizes, but it’s something they’ve both carried long before their spouses’ infidelity.

“Touché, Dr. Reid,” Y/N muses, sitting next to Spencer at the bar, “And she’s not your wife anymore?”

“The neighbors talk,” he observes, neither confirming or deny the status of his marriage, “and for the record, Y/N, you’re not the bar type either,”

“Alcoholic, workolichic, both end marriages. And I guess in the end it doesn’t really matter which one you are, does it?” Y/N speculates, thanking the bartender for her shots. The warm yellow and orange color is cheery and happy, a contrast to their dull and dim conversation. She slides Liz’s shot over to Spencer, thinking to herself that he probably needs it as much as she does.

“To workolichics whose spouses never quite understood them,” she says, looking Spencer straight in the eyes as she raises the shot to her lips. He mirrors her, bringing the glass to his lips, eyes never leaving her face. They burn as he stares, looking so intently at her. It’s like she’s under a microscope.

Neither of them say a word, yet they communicate. They notice each other. And it takes one to know one when you haven’t been noticed in a while. He drinks the shot with her, making a face at the tartness of the drink. The sweet peach flavor evens it out, coating her tongue with sweetness that masks the sourness of the lime juice.

“Is that what you think happened? Is that why you think they did what they did?” Spencer asks, his voice but a whisper. His finger runs around the rim of the shot glass, tracing it over and over as his mind races, “because I’ve been thinking about it. I actually can’t stop thinking about it. I thought I was a good husband, I thought she loved me,” he adds, his voice raising up an octave.

“I’m sure you were, Spencer. I’m sure you were the kind of husband that never forgot birthdays and gave gifts for anniversaries. Or the kind that would do the dishes and make dinner just because,” Y/N says, thinking her sister was right to get drunk tonight, “But have you considered that Rebecca was a shitty wife?”

“No,” Spencer says, waving the bartender over for another beer perhaps, “I love my wife. I love my wife so much that I was blind to how she was. I ruined our marriage. I hurt her by not being there,” Spencer murmurs, “Another Sierra Nevada, please,” he tells the bartender, thanking her as she takes away their empties.

“You give her too much credit,” Y/N remarks, “You’ve been through so much, more than I know. I’ve been through so much, more than you know. But do you know who does? Rebecca and James. They knew exactly what they were doing. Fucking us up let this. Fucking up our lives to what get laid?” she scoffs.

“Like we’re not already fucked up, Mrs. Young,” Spencer teases, an uncharacteristically dark smirk coming to life on his life.

“It’s not Mrs. Young anymore. Dr. Reid,” Y/N comments, staring directly at Spencer, similar to how he looked at her moments before, “but I don’t even feel like Y/N Y/L/N anymore. I’ve been with James since before law school. It’s hard to be my old self again when I don’t even know who she is,”

His eyes are dark with something that Y/N can’t quite pinpoint, but it draws her in. His hair is tousled, maybe he’s coming home from a case and hasn’t had a chance to shower yet. He licks his lips, studying Y/N’s face. She doesn’t know much about his job, except that he’s some sort of detective for the FBI. Spencer reads people. Reading their microexpressions, their body language, their silent expressions that reveal so much. It must be what he’s doing right now.

“Like you said, it takes one to know one,” he toasts her non-existent drink as he sips his beer. He’s cryptic and guarded. A very different man than the friendly neighbor that she’d cross paths with at late hours, both coming home late from their demanding jobs.

But under that dark glimmer in his eye, Y/N, if she looks hard enough, can see that man. The man that would bring her trash to the curb because James always forgot or helped her shovel the snow off her sidewalk when James would refuse to do it. He’s still there, he’s still neighbor Spencer and somehow, she’s still neighbor Y/N.

Maybe it’s the shots, Spencer’s dark glimmer pulls her in closer. Like a fish caught on a line, she’s reeled in closer and closer.

“And I didn’t qualify for the friends and family discount,” Spencer whispers, his voice breaking the silence and bringing her back to Earth.

“Oh really,” Y/N says, mirroring Spencer’s playful tone as she leans in closer, his pink work shirt with the top buttons undone and sleeves rolled to his elbow, showing off his forearms. On his wrist is a tarnished watch, it’s so old that Y/N wonders if it’s more for sentimental value than everyday use, “I could swear that your wife sleeping with my husband would qualify you for at least 10% off,”

“Was that a joke?” Spencer deadpans, “From you, you’re even more serious than me,” Spencer muses, tapping his fingers rapidly on the counter. He still wears his wedding ring, even though the divorce has been finalized for weeks. Rings, like the vintage watches that don't work, are more sentimental than practical, despite not meaning that to Rebecca.

“There’s an awful lot you don’t know about me, Spencer,” she whispers, talking low in the quiet murmur of the bar. It’s well past 11, meaning the drunk college kids have left, probably searching for 24 hour diners to fill up on greasy cheese fries and sodas that help their inevitable hangovers.

It’s quiet in the bar, the regulars close their tabs and a few tables remain filled including Liz, who chats with a redheaded woman who sits alone at a high top table.

“You’ve always been one who’s hard to get to know,” Spencer observes, “I always thought you were lonely, like me. Never understood by James. Maybe that’s what it is, maybe they never got us,”

He’s not drunk enough to be having sober thoughts, but buzzed enough to be looser than he would anyway. Before Y/N can respond, Liz and a woman, following close behind her, rushes to Y/N and Spencer at the bar.

“Y/N, Y/N,” she says, “Ooo, so you are talking to a man, I knew a divorce party was what you needed-”

“I’m not talking to a man. This is just Spencer, he’s my...we’re uh. Spencer’s my neighbor,” Y/N stresses, hoping that her sister has enough clarity to realize what she’s implying.

“Divorce Party?” Spencer intjects, “Huh, Penny didn’t throw me one of those, and what I think Y/N is trying to say, without being impolite, is that woman James cheated with is, or rather, was my wife,”

“Oh,” Liz says, “So you’re Spencer,” she smiles, wearing her reactions on her sleeve, unlike Y/N, who hardly ever lets anyone in, “Well, uh, you good to drive? Gwen and I are going to go to her place,” Liz tells Y/N, giving her a sly look and looking directly at Spencer.

Liz has never been one for subtly, but at least Spencer is polite enough to ignore her antics.

“Be safe, Lizzy,” Y/N says, kissing her on the cheek, “And I’ll take your car to mom’s and you’ll have to Uber because I have to leave for work by 6,”

Waving away her sister’s constant worries, Liz turns, still holding the woman, Gwen’s hand as they walk out, “Love you and use protection!”

Feeling her face heat at Liz’s lack of filter, Y/N refuses to meet Spencer’s eyes. She doesn’t know him that well, but from what she does, he seems like a very reserved, quiet man. And reserved quiet men don’t particular care for sex jokes about the woman who’s husband slept with his wife. Even as complicated as their situation is, that would make it even more complicated.

“I am so sorry about my sister. She is, she’s just-” Y/N starts, looking for the right words to apologize for Liz.

“She has a point,”

“Excuse me,” Y/N says, her eyes going wide as his words process, “That’s highly inappropriate. That you would...that we would...-” she stammers, unable to even articulate what Spencer and Liz insinuated.

“That we would sleep together?” he asks, way too comfortable about this for a man that she assumed to be reserved and quiet. Maybe he’s hiding secrets under all those soft cardigans and kind eyes.

“Why not?” Spencer says, shrugging his shoulders. The dark glimmer in his eyes washes over his face again. It’s not threatening, but enticing and inviting, “We’re both single now, work terrible hours, and are ridiculously lonely. And what’s better than a little revenge,”

Revenge.

Sleeping with Spencer as one final screw you to James, and especially Rebecca. It's a slippery slope, but that glint in his eye latches on to her, pulling her in. He notices her. Spencer notices her because he recognizes himself in the shattered pieces of glass. He sees his own fractured heart in hers and for their last act to be revenge. It’s revenge against the person that hurt them with the other person that they hurt. For a moment, maybe they’d let go, pretend to recognize their old selves as jagged and broken as they are.

But she can’t

“You’re out of your mind, Dr. Reid,” Y/N says, taking her purse and tossing a couple five dollar bills on the counter for the bartender, “I’ll need to get you a cab, because there’s no one you can drive. You’re probably drunk out of your mind-”

“I’m not drunk, Y/N,” Spencer says, his voice steady and strong as he looks at her with that dark glint again, “And I’ve not been so sure of something in a very long time,”

“Spencer,” she starts, “You’re a kind man. And maybe if it wasn’t the way it is. Maybe if Rebecca wasn’t your wife. And fuck, maybe if we meet ten years ago, maybe things would be different. But I can’t. I can’t get involved in something with someone as broken as me. Not when Aster needs me,”

“Of course, Y/N,” Spencer says, slipping his cardigan over his shoulders. He nods good night, but Y/N stops him before he can leave. She squeezes his hand in some sort of abandoned spouses solidarity and kisses his cheek. Her lips brush over his days old stubble, and it tickles her skin. Letting go as quickly as she held him, their eyes meet again, only for Spencer to squeeze her hand back again.

“Good night, neighbor,”

“Good night, neighbor,” he says, slipping past her and out into the misty night.

She’s alone again, sitting at the bar. Maybe it’s a bar thing because all she can think of is the regrets she has. Marrying James in the first place. But at least that gave her Aster. Letting James take tiny pieces away from her with each fight, each snide comment, each critique until all the pieces were gone. She has a lot of regrets, a lot of maybes, a lot of what ifs.

Maybe Liz is right. Maybe Spencer’s right. Maybe he’s exactly what she needs. And she won’t deny that the dark glint and controlled smirk made her want to know more about her mysterious, quiet neighbor. For a man who’s so controlled and quiet on the outside, she can’t help but wonder what makes him tick. What he would be like when the mask of composure comes off and the Spencer she’s never known comes out of hiding.

She’s on her feet and out the door before she can even realize. The buzz of liquid courage no longer coursed through her veins, only the temptation of something a little scandalous, a little daring.

He’s getting into his car, an old Volvo that’s parked in front of her house many times before. He must see her standing out in the rain because he slams his door shut, jogging over to her in the parking lot.

“Are you okay?” he asks, “Do you need a ride home?”

“Yes,” she says, her heart thumping in her chest. She doesn’t do things like this, but neither does Spencer Reid. And here they stand in the drizzling rain, “I need a ride. But to your place. So you can fuck me in the bed that you once shared with your wife,”

“Are you sure?” Spencer says, taking a step forward, not touching her as he gazes down at her, reading her micro-expressions for even the slightest bit of hesitance, “I want you to be very sure, Y/N,” he whispers, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“I’m sure, Spencer,” she says back, not backing down from his intense stare, “I’m not made of glass. So don’t treat me like it,”

“You’ll be eating your words, my dear,” he says, darkly, running his thumb over Y/N’s lips and across her jawline.

She’s not sure who leaned in first. And in the end, it doesn’t really matter. Spencer’s hand, large on her cheek, holds her steady. Just as his lips are ready to brush across her's in a heated kiss, he pulls away. Leaving her dizzy and desperate, a whimper of annoyance and frustration escapes her lips.

“I want you to be sure, Y/N,” he whispers, tracing her lips. Their almost kiss makes her head spin, making her wonder what kind of drunk she’ll be when he finally kisses her.

“I want you, Spencer,”

Nodding, Spencer drops his hand from her cheek. He gives her a small, almost shy, smile. Staring at each other, standing in the parking lot, neither of them are daring enough to make their way to the car. Spencer’s hand, the same one that warmed her cheek, makes its way to the small of her back, guiding her to his car. His steady hand and lingering tingle of the stubble on her cheek is tantalizing. And though James shattered her glass heart, something small, yet hopeful tells her it might be repaired again one day.

She didn’t even get a chance to kick off her shoes before Spencer practically rammed her up against the wall. Behind is lanky stature, he hides a lot of strength. His hands wrap tightly into Y/N’s hair as his shoulders pin her against the wall. The pictures rattle when he moves. His fingers and hands gripping her face tightly to control the kiss. Everything about the way his lips move against her mouth is calculated. Spencer knows exactly when to nip at her bottom lip, tugging and biting in a way that sends shivers down her back. Somehow, despite barely knowing each other, it’s like Spencer has her body memorized.

In an effort to get his cardigan off, Y/N pushes against Spencer. No longer pinned against the wall, she waits as he slips off his cardigan, his shirt even more wrinkled now. His gaze, in the dark hallway, burns her. The way Spencer looks at her lights her aflame. His eyes burn into her skin, making the spots he touched miss his fingers and long for bruises to remember him by.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Spencer whispers, drawing his finger up the side of Y/N’s jawline. His eyes study her face, moving rapidly, proving that his mind that’s constantly on overtime, “Tell me what you want, sweet girl,”

She can’t help it. The pathetic little whimper that slips out of lips, which only seems to entertain Spencer even more. He grins devilishly, his fingers still lingering on her face, just giving her the tiniest taste of what’s to come.

Leaning in so her breath is hot against his ear, Y/N whispers, “I’m thinking about how you’re going to fuck me like you should’ve been fucking your wife,”

His reaction, though immediate, is calculated like everything he does. Slowly, he leans back down, blocking Y/N’s view of everything, except for him. He brushes his lips against hers, talking in a gravely tone that makes Y/N want nothing more than to obey him for the rest of the night.

“You sure about that?” he says, mirroring his words in the parking lot just minutes before. He smiles as Y/N nods, giving him even more confirmation, “Go sit on my bed and wait for me,” he orders, his hand catching Y/N’s as she walks away.

Spencer stops her, pulling her body flush against his as he kisses her again. It’s impossible to not get lost in the way Spencer kisses. He knows exactly where to rest his hands with one on her waist and the other on her cheek. She vows to herself that if it’s only tonight it's okay to let herself get swept up in the way Spencer’s fingers tickle her skin or the way his lips pressed up against burn into her heart.

“You’re very distracting,” Y/N says, their lips brushing, neither wanting to go too long without having some physical contact.

“You’re the one that’s distracting,” Spencer says, smiling widely as his hands sneak up Y/N’s shirt.

Slipping away from his grasp, Y/N finds her way to his bedroom. The layout is simple and she navigates her way around the books and clothes clutter the floor of his bedroom, but his bed is neatly made with a soft looking duvet. Carefully, she sits on the bed, trying to talk herself out of the plethora of nerves that threaten to send her running back to her mom’s.

“Well looks like you can listen, after all,” Spencer says, shutting his bedroom door behind him as he walks towards Y/N on his bed.

Just like in the bar, Spencer’s intense gaze makes her feel like she’s under a microscope. Except, she doesn’t feel judged, but noticed. And after a long time of not being noticed, it’s more than nice to be seen.

He kneels down, his hands resting on either side of Y/N’s thighs. Her work skirt and blazer make her feel so out of place with Spencer’s tousled hair and wrinkled button up. His watch catches the moonlight that drips in through the cracked blinds. Spencer looks up at her, his lips dark and swollen, begging for her to kiss them again.

He slips in hands under Y/N’s skirt. They are cold against her warm skin, the contrast making her lean her head forward against Spencer’s forehead. He must like that because he continues to graze her thighs with his hands. His calloused fingertips linger on skin long after he’s moved on.

“You don’t get touched often,” Spencer observes, not a single drop of judgement or even pity in his voice, but understanding, “How? God, you’re so beautiful like this. All needy for me, and I’ve hardly even touched you,” he muses, removing his hands from inside her skin. She’s cold without him, already hating being deprived of his touch.

“Spencer,” Y/N whines, dizzy from him and wondering what his next move is, “Please,”

“Shh, be patient, Y/N. I’m going to take my time with you,”

His words from before ring in her head.

You don’t get touched often.

The way he said it, it’s like he knew exactly how it feels to be neglected. To be so starved for intimacy that the tamest kiss will leave you desperately needing more. A taste, when it’s been so long going unnoticed, isn’t enough to quench the thirst. She wonders how he’ll react when she gets her hands on him. Will he call her name out, begging for her touch? Will he whimper sweetly as he comes undone all because of her? Will he forget the pain he’s been through, even if it’s just for a night. Will their broken hearts be shoved into drawers for the night, not neglected, but noticed.

“Let’s get that blazer off, Y/N,” Spencer says, sliding the navy blue jacket down Y/N’s arms and tossing it towards the pile of clothes in the corner of the bedroom. Now rid of the blazer, Spencer’s cold hands travel up her arms, down to her waist before untucking her silk shirt from the waistband of her skirt.

His frigid hands are icy on her hot skin. Spencer’s hands move up to her bra, squeezing her breast lightly through her bra. He closes his eyes for a second, enjoying the feeling of his skin against his and the tiniest noises she makes as he continues to touch her.

“I’m on the shot,” she says, waiting on the bed for Spencer to do something, “And I’m clean,”

“Good,” he says, short and sweet. Unbuttoning her shirt, Y/N watches as Spencer moves with a quicker pace than before, his fingers fly down her shirt, unbuttoning before he helps her slip it off her shoulders.

“Come here,” Spencer orders, flicking her fingers forward in the wordless motion. She listens like a Marionette following the words of her puppeteer. He holds her chin, forcing her eyes to stay on him as she leans forward. He kisses her yet again, even more dizzying than the last. She can taste the faintest taste of peach and lime on his tongue, proving that this night is actually happening.

“So you can be a good girl,” Spencer observes, “here I thought you would be a little brat. But all you want is some to take care of you. Is that right, sweet girl?” he says, his voice laced with fake pity. One hand grips her wrist, holding her in place and the other remains on her chin, keeping her attention on him.

“Yes,” Y/N stutters out, her body growing hotter and hotter, the longer Spencer holds out on her, “please, just please,” she whines, no longer caring about keeping her composure. He unfastens her bra, watching as her bare breasts sit before him.

“Lean back, baby,” Spencer says, “and scoot up to the pillows,”

Following his directions, Y/N frantically slides up his bed. His soft duvet cover under her and his plush pillow under her head. Spencer slips off his shoes, still fully dressed compared to Y/N who remains only in her work skirt. Crawling up the bed, Spencer’s arms rest on either side of Y/N’s head. His lips dip down to her collarbone as he places wet, open mouth kisses all the way down her bare skin. Unlike his cold hands, his mouth is hot, drawing out moans of pleasure as he gets closer and closer to where she wants him most.

Fueled on by the promise of pleasure, Y/N grips onto his wild hair, hoping he’ll get the message to stay where he is. Leaning on his knees, Spencer slowly slides her skirt down her legs. Words of praise tumble from his lips as he peels back her skirt, leaving her only in her underwear.

“Spencer, please,” Y/N begs, feeling him spread open her legs when his hands grip her thighs. He draws shapeless shapes on the soft skin of her inner thighs, chuckling darkly as her breath hitches when he skims over her underwear.

“So responsive,” he coos, drawing with his finger along Y/N’s hip bone before looping her waistband around his finger, “you can be as loud as you want, sweet girl,” he whispers, leaning her head down to kiss her soft stomach. He peppers the lightest kisses along her belly, smirking proudly to himself at every whine and whimper.

“I need you, Spencer. Please, I need you,” she says, getting more and more desperate by the minute, “I need you,”

As much as it’s nice to be wanted, it’s even nicer to be needed. And from the familiar glint in Spencer’s eye, Y/N doesn’t doubt that Spencer needs her as much as she needs him. Her heart thumps in her chest, an unfamiliar pang of excitement and adrenaline brought on by another soul does something to her. Like it’s an instinct she picked up years ago, Y/N’s hands travel to Spencer’s hair, gripping tightly. He must like the sensation because as he kisses the inside of her thighs, he moans into her skin.

Kissing and nipping, he leaves marks for the morning, the only proof for tomorrow that tonight actually happened.

“Are you okay?” Spencer whispers, worried in his voice as his finger loosen their bruising grip on Y/N’s thighs. Her hands, still tight in his hair, loosen as well. Paralleling the way he gently stroked her cheek outside his bedroom door, Y/N’s index finger moves up and down his sharp jawline. His stubble tickles his fingers and his pink lips tempt her to touch them.

“I’m perfectly fine,”

“Good,” Spencer says, before drawing his finger along her inner thighs. His fingers ghost up towards her clit, rubbing small circles. He looks up at her, daring her to play a strange, adult staring contest. Spencer’s palm hovers over her pussy, encouraging her to rut against him as he smiles with delight. Despite being naked while Spencer is fully dressed, Y/N doesn’t mind.

“That’s it,” Spencer encourages, “But you look too good to not taste,” he mutters, lowering his head as his face grazes her sensitive clit. His large hands hover over her thighs, holding her in place as his tongue flickers, tasting her. Taking his time, Spencer nips and sucks, making his own sounds of pleasure as Y/N nears the edge herself.

“Oh, god,” she moans, gripping Spencer’s hair as another wave of pleasure crashes into her. She can feel it in her toes. The relief melts away the tension.

She’s not the sad single mother, she’s the overworked attorney, she’s not the neglected and ignored wife. She’s Y/N.

He’s not the lonely, mysterious neighbor who went to prison, he’s not the exhausted agent, he’s not the misunderstood husband. He’s Spencer.

They're broken hearts, fractured and jagged, seeking a ill-thought out, albeit, erotic rebellion against the people who promised to love and cherish them forever.

It’s twisted and sick that it takes another man to fuck her for Y/N remember her old self again. With the way Spencer’s groans of pleasure grow and his hardened dick rubs against her leg, it’s no hidden secret how this is going to end for both of them. It’s no secret that all people want is to be wanted, noticed, needed.

“Did your husband fuck you like this?” Spencer whispers, his voice cutting like shards in the room, otherwise quiet, except for whimpers and whines coming from Y/N.

No, he didn’t. He never wanted tasted her like this. He never tried to get her to come to the edge over and over. He never nipped and sucked and kissed her thighs before he ate her out like a starved man. He never wanted to, yet Spencer needs to.

“No,” Y/N says, honest to Spencer, because who can lie with a beautiful man in between her legs, “Never, he, ugh, Spencer,”

“God,” Spencer says, taking a break as he look her in the eyes, “I knew he was dumb, but that’s just fucking foolish,” he says before swirling her tongue over Y/N’s clit again and sucking softly. He searches for her hand, finding it in his hair. Holding her hand in his, he squeezes as her moans of pleasure grow more and more frequent.

“Are you going to come? Hmm, are you going to come all over my face like a good girl?” Spencer asks, the condescending tone fitting him surprisingly well, “good girls ask for permission, sweetheart,”

“P-please,” she whines, not caring how pathetic she sounds. She clutches onto Spencer’s hand, holding him like a liferaft, “Please, Spencer. Please let me come,”

“Come, Y/N. Come on my face, sweet girl. I know you can do it,” he says, humming encouragement. The vibrations spur her on, her legs shaking as she comes undone with Spencer’s mouth still working on her clit. His hands gather up her release, slick on his long fingers.

“What a good girl,” he muses, clicking his tongue, “You want to see how good you taste?” Spencer asks, bringing his slick finger to her lips.

Y/N takes his long middle and index fingers into her mouth. Swirling her tongue around it, tasting herself on him. Keeping eye contact with Spencer is hard, but especially when his fingers are buried in her mouth and his puffy lips still wear her release. A trail of spit ties her lips to his fingers as he removes his fingers.

Spencer’s eyes flicker up to Y/N’s. Her legs lay lazily on his and his hands hover hesitantly over her shoulders. Sitting with him in silence it’s awkward, but almost peaceful. They move in simultaneously, as if pulled by an invisible string. Eyes meet and then flicker away shyly, a touchless kiss shared even before lips meet. The distance grows shorter, spurred on by the promise of being wanted, of being noticed. It keeps that familiar motion sickness feeling away. In this quiet little bedroom far away from the mistakes of neglectful husbands and disloyal wives, steadiness and peace thrives.

“It’s not fair,” Y/N huffs, adding levity to the quiet, Spencer’s lips work down from her mouth to her shoulders and down her arms.

“What’s not fair, sweetheart,” he asks, still kissing her skin. Maybe it grounds him, maybe it reminds him that this is all real too. That there’s something after you lose everything.

“That you’re not naked,” Y/N says, bringing her fingers up to unbutton his shirt. Smiling, Spencer stands up from the bed, happy to rid himself from the confines of his clothes. His pink shirt and dark pants get tossed into the void, long forgotten with Y/N’s shirt and skirt, “You’re taking too long,” she says, pulling down his boxer briefs.

“Maybe you’re just impatient,” Spencer jokes, kicking his underwear down his legs and crawling back into bed. He attacks Y/N’s neck, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin. She giggles at the sensation of his stubble tickling her neck. The momentarily sweet gesture is only that, before can feel Spencer’s ever pressing erection against her leg.

“We don’t have to go any further, Y/N,-” he starts, but is cut off by Y/N planting a kiss to shut him up. For someone that really short circuited her brain by barely touching her, Spencer is awfully unsure that she wants this as much as he does.

“I want you to fuck me Spencer. Fuck me like you wanted to fuck you wife. You don’t have to hold back,” she says, licking her lips in anticipation as Spencer’s eyes darken with something that looks like jealousy. He leans back, resting in between Y/N’s legs, pumping his erection.

He looks down at her with so much intensity that Y/N can’t help but feel like the bed is going to swallow her whole. She’s wonderstruck, watching him hover above her. She anticipates his every move, wondering exactly what he’s going to do next. His hands cover her stomach, ghosting over her skin.

“More,”

“More what?” Spencer asks, playing the fool, when they both know he’s the master of all, “You need to use your words, sweetheart,” he mumbles, mouth latching onto her breast as he swirls his tongue around her nipple. Proud of her response to his ministrations, Spencer decides to give into her wants, which elicits more whimpers.

“So good, baby,” Y/N says, finding home in his messy hair again, “So good, Spencer. Please, fuck me now,” she begs, the whimpers of pleasure tumbling from her lips as Spencer cuts her off with another kiss. She wonders if he can taste herself in the kiss and if that makes him want her more.

“Are you sure, you’re ready for me, sweet girl,” Spencer whispers, his mouth brushing against Y/N’s neck, leaving trails of marks that will be puffy by the morning when their little escapade is nothing but faint memories in the back of their heads.

“So ready, so ready, Spencer,” Y/N chants, not beyond begging for Spencer to fuck her. He smiles to himself, secretly enjoying the feelings of being wanted by someone you want.

He kisses Y/N as he buries himself deep inside her, letting the sensation of his mouth and the stillness of his movements make her dizzy with anticipation. It feels so good with him deep inside her, not moving, just breathing in slowly and steadily, that Y/N swears to herself she can get drunk off the feeling. It’s sweeter than motion sickness, which only leaves you empty with dread. But this- this makes her feel full, complete…

“Shh,” Spencer coos, slowly moving as he begins to thrust in and out, taking his time. He kisses up the side of Y/N’s face, leaving opened mouth kisses on her cheeks, collarbones and shoulders. Spencer leaves no stone unturned, kisses every inch of her body as she clutches his back, “Let me take care of you, sweet girl,” he mutters, seeming to finally lose himself in the feeling of her wrapped around him.

“Spencer,” Y/N cries out, unsure what to say exactly. Words can’t quite describe the feeling of his body flush against hers, holding her steady as he moves in and out from the place where their bodies join as one. Words don’t do him justice.

“Please don’t hold back,” she says, wondering if she’ll regret the words in an hour or so when she makes the awkward walk back to the bar.

It’s like a coil snapping. The shift between the slow, languid thrusts and sweet kisses that Spencer leaves. His hands hover over his waist, ghosting along her soft skin and moving quickly to latch onto her nipple. He sits up, resting on his heels as he gazes down at Y/N, spread out before him, wanting- no - needing his next command.

“Did your husband make love to you? Hmm,” Spencer says, dragging his fingers down to Y/N’s clit as he begins to rub dizzying circles, “Did James fuck you sweetly?”

“Yes, yes, he uh,” Y/N stammers, her face flushed with humiliation as James’ name slips between Spencer’s lips. She doesn’t want to think about him right now, because thinking about him will only make her realizes that James could never compare to Spencer, “not like this,”

“No, not like this. I’m not going to make love to you, sweet girl. I’m going to fuck you,” Spencer says, his voice oozing with false pity. His fingers don’t let up, as Y/N squirms in place, trying her best to get off without Spencer permission.

“Don’t be a brat,” Spencer orders, “I don’t like when good girls pretend to be brats. Your husband must have been so pathetic. I’m hardly even touching you. And look at you. You’re a messy, messy little whore,” Spencer observes, his finger sliding up her and much to her excitement all she can do is let out mangled cries of his name and curse words.

“Aww is it too much? Is it too much for you, slut? I can stop right now. I can stop right now and call James up. Maybe he can finish the job?” Spencer asks, saying the forbidden name yet again.

“No,” Y/N says, finding her voice amongst the dizzying sensation of Spencer’s fingers and voice, “I want you,” she cries, “I need your cock inside me, Spencer. Please I need it,” she begs, humiliation growing in her belly as Spencer taps her cheek patronizingly.

“What a good girl. Looks like I don’t even have to fuck the brat out of you. You’re so eager you do that without being told,” he coos, leaning down to kiss her cheek and forehead.

It’s a mixture of sweet and sadistic that she knows she can get drunk off. His searing kisses and his wandering fingers force all her energy to focus on him. The way his tongue flicks across her bare chest, giving her just enough to be hungry for more. Sex must be an adult version of the teacup ride. You know you’re going to be all dizzy and woozy, but somehow it’s worth it all. Her skin tingles and she swears that Spencer’s touches are electric.

“Please fuck me, I need it, I need it so bad. So bad,” she pants, gripping Spencer’s forearms, pleading with him to take mercy on her. He listens, for once, kisses her forehead sweetly before thrusting in exponentially more quicker and faster than before.

She can feel him everywhere. His hands on her scorched skin and his thrusting in her sensitive sex. Spencer is calculated. He knows exactly how powerful to make the thrusts, he knows how to make her squeal and squirm with delight. His arms are on either side of Y/N’s head like a protective shield. She wonders if he’ll hold her sweetly after this, as if that wouldn’t make their relationship even more complex.

“Oh, god, Spencer,” she stammers, “More, more,” she pleads, knowing she’s signing her name to the devil if he’s going to fuck her like this.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m taking it easy on you tonight. You’re a lucky girl,” Spencer whispers, his sweet, albeit patronizing words conflicting the way his hips snap meeting Y/N’s in fast paced, unrelenting thrusts or his fingers on her clit or his mouth against her skin, “My lucky whore,”

“No one can fuck you like this,”

The words- and their very salacious meaning- ring in Y/N’s ear. And even though her cheeks and chest flush with embarrassment, she knows that Spencer makes a point. Sex with James was more of a chore. Something Y/N felt compelled to do because maybe it would make him want her more.

Wanting. Being wanted. Wanting someone that wants you back. It’s what got her here in the first place, with her legs stretched out and her recently divorced neighbor fucking the life out of her.

“Say it,” Spencer orders, though it comes out more of a strained beg, his thrusts, once calculated and precise, grow more sloppy and slower as he reaches his climax, “Tell me no one has fucked you like this. Say it, I know no one could fuck you like the slut you are, sweet girl,”

“No one,” Y/N starts, trying to concentrate on stringing the words together. It proves to be difficult when Spencer is hell-bent on making walking difficult the next morning, “No one’s fucked me like this. Not James. No one can fuck me like you do, Spencer,” she calls out, clawing towards him and latching on to his hair.

Layers of sweat and tears cover their skin, a dizzying cocktail of desperation and despair. For a moment in time they forget about the heartbreak. For a moment, they let themselves simply feel good, even for just one night.

“Never forget that, sweetheart. It will be like no one else has ever fucked you after me. They won’t measure up,”

They won’t. It couldn’t even if they tried.

She’ll hate the way his fingerprints are shadows on her skin. Tattoo kisses, once wet and fresh, but now long forgotten. She’ll crave his touch more than her husband’s. She’ll rewind the tape, pausing at the moments when she sees them unmarred with neglect, but golden with temporary joy. She doesn’t particularly like the idea of “ruined for other men” but, again, Spencer has a point. Y/N wonders if that neighborhood gossip of him being a genius is actually true.

“I’m going to come, Spencer, please,” Y/N cries out, coming undone for a second time tonight. She can feel her toes tingle in anticipation. The alcohol far gone from her system, but drunk off Spencer. He’s worth the regret flavored hangover that she might nurse tomorrow, “I need you,”

“You’re so cute, all messy like this. Messy little slut for me. I bet you want to come all over my cock, huh? Gonna let me fill you? Fuck you so hard that you’ll always feel me there,” he whispers, his hot breath foggy up her mind.

“Yes, please. Oh god yes,” she chants, his name on her tongue like a prayer. She’s a sinner and if he got even an ounce of saintliness in his pinky, she’ll worship him in the dead of night.

“Look me in the eyes as you come, sweetheart. Remember how I fucked you,” he dares, his lips latching onto her neck leaving marks, “just like that, sweet girl. Such a good girl for me,” he praises. His words stick to her like glue, daring to burrow deep inside her heart.

“So fucking cute when you come,” he muses, his thumb rubbing quick circles around her clit, simpering as Y/N bites her bottom lip as her climax approaches. Spencer, leaning down so his lips capture her bitten bottom lip. He tugs, smiling when she whines at the sharp pain of his teeth against her puffy lip.

She lays blissed out in his bed transfixed as the white milky substance leaks out from Spencer’s cock onto her stomach. His large hand hovers over her hip bone keeping her still as he reaches his release. Like a domino effect, as soon as Spencer meets his climax, her second one of the night hits her like a tidal wave.

“Come for me, sweet girl,” he commands, yet again conducting their salacious dance, even to the very end.

Y/N can feel the coils loosen deep her belly and tingle all the way down to her toes. Her head spins, drunk off the smell of Spencer’s spicy cologne and the sight of him relaxed as he kisses along her shoulders, whispers sweet nothings as she comes undone at his hands.

“Oh, fuck,” she says, cursing as she feels her muscles ease and the tension from her neck melt away, “Holy fuck. I didn’t think you had that in you,” she teases, pushing Spencer’s hair from his forehead. It sticks to his skin with his sweat. And in the moonlight, he looks younger and more carefree than he actually is.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks, back to the reserved, cautious neighbor that always made her wonder, “You should use the bathroom, you know while it’s not medically proven, it’s highly recommended that you urinate after engaging in penetrative sexual intercourse to prevent UTIs,” he states, rattle off the factoid like he’s reading from a sex-ed handbook.

Sexual intercourse. Didn’t this man just say she was a good girl when she came when told? And he’s too bashful to say sex.

“Is that true?” Y/N asks, silently wondering how much longer she has until he inevitably wants her to leave. While there’s no hand book for fucking your ex-husband’s mistress’s ex-husband, cuddling and waking up to pancakes isn’t the expectation, “as much as I’d like to avoid that, I think I need you to help me up. My bones feel like they’re made of jelly,”

“Guess I did fuck you that good,” Spencer whispers darkly, sliding his arm under Y/N’s back to help her out of his bed, “it was good for you though?” he asks, worry in his big, sad eyes.

“Are you kidding me? Spencer, I’m not kidding when I tell you that I’m struggling to walk here. You were more than fine, you’re hiding an awful lot behind those cardigans and sweater vests,” Y/N teases, standing up and putting her hands on Spencer’s shoulders as his legs dangle from the bed.

His hands find home on her waist and his eyes silently thank her for the reassurance.

“You can stay,” he whispers, “I’ll help you clean up and we can go to sleep. For the first time in a really long time, I’m not dreading going to sleep. And I think that has something to do with me not being alone,” he reveals, quietly retreating into himself.

“Of course,” she tells him, trying to conceal that staying the night is exactly what she hoped for, “I’ll be right back,”

“Let me get you a towel first,” Spencer says, squeezing her hand as she sits back down on the bed. He comes back in with a warm damp towel that he drags up and down Y/N’s legs and across her stomach.

Silently, brazenly, he places kisses that make her skin goosebump and prickle. She licks her lips, watching him care for her. The dark glint in his eyes, the one she noticed in the bar and then when he hovered over her, is gone. It’s replaced by something sweeter and a little sadder. Eyes, they say, are windows into the soul. She speculates that Spencer must be a sad one to have eyes that shine like glass and are bittersweet like haunted dreams.

“I think you’re good,” Spencer whispers, his voice breaking the silence, “the bathroom’s to the left. And I’ll have some clothes for you to put on,” he says, standing up to help her out of bed.

“Thanks,”

As she uses the bathroom, she doesn’t let herself think about the strangeness of this. She always wondered about the shy neighbor who she would stand near during neighborhood get-togethers and events. And especially after he went away for a while and came back quieter and even more secluded. Now, she supposes that lonely hearts find each other.

Finding her way back to Spencer, she finds him sitting on his bed. His lamp is on, lighting up his room with a warm glow. He leans back on his bed, his glasses resting on his nose. He looks at peace like that, relaxed in his own space that he offered to share with her, even if it’s for just one night.

“Hey there, neighbor,” Spencer says, “As much as I enjoy the view, I think you’d be more comfortable in some pajamas,” he offers, holding out a pair of men’s boxers and a faded gray tee-shirt, “And I have lots of cardigans if you get chilly,”

“We’re technically no longer neighbors,” she says, putting on the tee shirt and boxers, “But thanks for the shirt,”

“I guess so,��� Spencer observes, watching her from under his glasses, “You’re getting the house, I presume,” he says, “I don’t mean to pry, but I am the person to talk about this stuff, you know,”

“You, me and like 35% of marriages,” Y/N teases, amused by Spencer’s baffled expression, “What? You’re not the only one who can memorize statistics.”

Spencer spreads the covers over Y/N’s shoulders and leans over to turn off the lamp on his nightstand. He lays flat on his back, his eyes refusing to meet Y/N’s as she turns over on her side. Neither of them dare to move, even though it’s like there’s an invisible magnet pulling them closer and closer together.

“Good night, neighbor,” she whispers into the dark, feeling that dizzying feeling again when Spencer finally turns to face the same way she does. His face hovers above hers, his hands ghosts on her waist, not touching even though she wants him too. It would be nice to be held as she sleeps.

“Good night, Y/N,” Spencer answers back, closing the gap and pulling Y/N in close.

He holds her in his arms, flush against his chest. She can feel his thumping heart on her back. Trying to steady her heart rate, she tries to count her breaths.

One. Two. Three.

In and out.

Slow and steady.

Pretending this is real. Pretending that she’ll wake up and this will all be real. His warm body against hers is real. And the teacup ride will stop, the motion sickness will melt away, and all that remains is the dizzying sensation of being wanted by the one you want.

The last thing she remembers before she falls asleep is the smell of Spencer's sheets. They smell like sea breeze and salt air. His breathing is like the ocean calling out her across the short, yet vast, distance between them. They're castaways lost at l

She’s up before he wakes. Like he did last night, Spencer looks younger when he sleeps. His wrinkles from stress and worrying are less prominent, and a small smile is etched into his lips. Spencer’s arm is heavy against her upper torso. He’s warm and his shirt smells like clean cotton. Y/N wishes she can ignore her responsibilities and let herself melt into the sheets with Spencer’s arms wrapped around her waist.

But she can’t. She’s not his to want, he’s not hers to want either.

Slipping from the bed, she searches for her clothes that are scattered around the floor. Liz will know exactly what happened when she goes to her mom’s to get Aster wearing the same outfit she went out in. As much as she hates her sister being right, she doesn’t regret their night.

Before her fears get the best of her, Y/N scribbles her phone number on loose sticky-note on Spencer’s dresser. She’s not even sure if she wants him to call her. Or if this was a one time thing, and she’s nothing but a notch on his bedpost.

Turning the door, Y/N sneaks one look back at Spencer. His sleeping form threatens to call her back into the warm bed. Selfishly, she wants coffee-breath kisses and jokes shared while listening to morning news with the only man who can’t give her that. Painfully, she walks through the door, deepening the distance between them and ignoring the way her heart races at the sight of his curly brown hair messed up along his pillow case.

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[whoabo]

all i have

pairings: bo burnham x reader.

part one: all i wanted.

warnings: swearing, angst, sad bo.

era: inside (2020–21)

a/n: thank you guys for waiting so patiently for the second part. i’m so sorry it’s been so long, i accidentally deleted the first draft and had to re write it. so hopefully you enjoy. ily <3.

four days.

four days.

three nights.

you left four days and three nights ago. not even saying ‘i love you’ back.

bo hadn’t stopped calling you since that night. the only time the phone stopped ringing was when he fell asleep. clutching a tear stained pillow with bruce asleep by his feet.

he didn’t realize how much he royally fucked up. he didn’t realize just how much harm he did. he thought you were fine while he was working in the guesthouse. she never complained, so he never asked.

he now realizes how flawed his logic truly is.

when he awoke, his face felt hot. it felt wet. lifting a hand to his cheeks he sighed and stood up. the sound of bones popping as he stretched made him cringe.

he walked down the hallway— not without bending down a smidge to block from hitting the doorway. reaching the living room he collapsed on to the couch. he stared at the wall, one that held a framed photo. it was a picture of you and him, about four to five years ago, it was when he adopted bruce.

he always laughed at the picture when lever his eyes happened to land on it. it was pretty much a selfie of you two, that he printed and framed.

looking at it now makes a feeling rise in his stomach, a feeling that he can’t really describe. it’s not painful nor is it a good feeling. it’s more dreadful, anxiety ridden, if you will.

“jesus fucking christ.” he groaned sitting up.

he could already tell the layout of his day.

sit down, get up, call, sit down, get up, let bruce out, sit down, get up, call, sit down, get up, make lunch, sit down, call, get up, feed bruce, sit down, get up, call, lay down, and eventually cry everything out.

sounds eventful.

as he stood over the stove, cooking some eggs. he made a decision to take a two week long break from his special. he’s gonna spend. that time trying to get you to come home.

grabbing his phone he noticed the time; eleven forty nine. (11:49 am) and zero calls. well one from his mother but not one from the person he so desperately wants to talk to. back to his mother, he’ll just facetime her before he goes to bed.

he opens his phone as he turns off the stove. clicking on the green phone icon, he presses the oh so familiar contact.

the sound of your phone ringing was enough to pull you out of your sleep. your eyes squinted as you lifted up your phone to your face.

the name displayed caused a feeling in your stomach. guilt, anxiety, happiness, anger? who knows. it’s hard to depict the feeling to an exact word. if that makes sense.

“fuck it.”

accept.

not daring to say word, you hold the phone against your ear. the sound of his breathing is almost too loud, that being the only thing audible.

“hello? did- did you answer?” hearing quiet shuffles from the speaker, you close your eyes at the sound of his voice.

“you answered.” he spoke, sounding— almost— marveled that you did.

you sigh and open your eyes, “would you rather i didn’t?”

shit. you didn’t mean for that to sound snarky. but he deserves it.

“no, no. i just— you haven’t been answering me all week so i didn’t really expect you to answer.”

you sit up, leaning against the headboard of the bed. you anxiously note the tip of your nails as you figure out what to say to him.

“i’m sorry.”

really? ‘i’m sorry’? you have nothing to be sorry for, he’s the one who should be apologizing. he ignored you for months while living in the same house together and your gonna say sorry cause you didn’t answer his calls for four days?

that’s not shit compared to what he did.

a bittersweet chuckle left bo’s lips, “you’re sorry? i should be the one apologizing. i was a total fucking douche and left you alone. i shouldn’t have put this special so far above you. and to yell at you— .. god, i’m so sorry, honey.” his voice changed a lot during his mini ramble.

it started off very emotional, then started to get louder. not yelling but not taking in his regular speaking voice. it stood directly in the middle. but. it ended with boarder line whispering.

the way his voice sounded like a plead, in some sorts made you want to just drive home and hug and hold him.

he cleared his throat, “i miss you.”

did you miss him?

of course, who are we kidding.

“i miss you too.”

a gasp was heard from the other side of the phone. it sounded hopeful, excited, happy, etc.

“oh, you have no idea how happy that makes me, honey. god, i’ve missed you so much. i truly realized how much of an asshole boyfriend i was— am. i promise i won’t do that again.” he pleaded.

you take the phone away from your ear and look at your sheets.

just go back home.

“i.. uh.” you stuttered.

“you what, baby?”

you squeezed your eyes shut. it shouldn’t be this hard you’ve said this to him a thousand times before.

“i- i love you, bo. i don’t know when, but i’ll be back. soon. okay?” you whispered. so low, bo could barely hear it. but he caught it.

a noise crackled through which sounded like a sigh of relief.

“of course. take your time. i love you too, y/n.”

two am.

two o’ one am.

two o’ three am.

eventually, two thirty am.

weird time to be waking up and deciding to leave your friends house with a small paper on the fridge thanking her for letting you stay.

with a bag thrown— quite dramatically— in the back seat, you’re off.

there was something about that call. about his voice. the way he sounded like he had been sick or crying, maybe even both. how would you know, you’ve been gone.

the time spent away from him, it was needed. but now it was time to go back and see him. hold him. or hold bruce, whoever came up to you first.

pulling up to the house, you turned you headlight off and sighed. it was relief. the relief of finally being home.

all the lights were off but you saw his car in the drive way. luckily he’s home. but hopefully his in the house.

unlocking the door and making it down the hall to the bedroom door, which was already half way open. you snuck in and saw bo facing away from the door and clutching a pillow to his chest. bruce laid comfortably at his feet. you smiled, eyes tearing up the slightest bit.

your legs and feet start to move, somewhat, on their own and you walk to the other side of the bed. slowly, you slip under the covers and place a hand on top of bo’s.

he jolts a little and mumbles out your name, not able to open his eyes fully. he feels your hand come to contact with his cheek and he sleepily smiles.

“holy fuck, you’re home. i’ve missed you.” he slurs, seemingly too tired to even say words properly. the best he can do to show some kind of affection while being half asleep is moving his head to rest on your chest.

“i missed you too, bo.”

“i’m taking two weeks.. uhm, two weeks off from making my thing.”

you laugh at how tired he sounds. not being able to remember what exactly he’s working on at the moment.

he wraps an arm around your waist and soon enough falls back asleep. you smile and pull the blankets up more. almost covering both of your guys chins.

“goodnight, bo.” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead.

“goodnight, y/n. i love you.” he murmurs.

[hangovercurse]

Favorites

You work at the preschool next to Casie’s middle school. One day, you catch Colson’s eyes while working, and lucky for him you happen to know his daughter.

Request: “Hi!! Let me start out by saying that you are so so so talented!! I was wondering if you’d write something about colson falling for a preschool teacher? like he just sees her one day while he’s picking up casey from the middle school and he’s all soft seeing her interact with the kids and he makes up excuses to keep coming to see you!?”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: Cursing (maybe?)

A/N: I did that thing where I write too much… again.

Word Count: 2394

Colson tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, drumming softly to the beat of the music coming from his radio. He pulled into the school parking lot, the line already a million cars long it seemed. But he promised Casie he would pick her up whenever he wasn’t working so she didn’t have to take the bus. If that meant spending thirty minutes in a line of slow-moving cars, so be it.

As he was jamming, he glanced out the passenger window, finding a smaller building with a chain link fence outside, surrounding a child’s playground. The door happened to swing open while he was looking, and from there time seemed to move in slow motion.

Out of the door came a dozen or so toddlers, waddling their way outside, surrounding the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. The sun bounced off of your skin perfectly, making everything around you seem so much brighter.

Your skirt flowed with the slight breeze, making the scene more picturesque. He watched as you reached down, picking up one of the toddlers and holding him in your arms. The small boy seemed to be crying, over what Colson couldn’t tell.

You seemed to be speaking to the boy, bouncing him up and down in your arms to comfort him. Meanwhile, a little girl with pigtails made her way over to you. You spoke to her brightly, reaching the arm that wasn’t holding the boy to hold her hand.

Colson’s eyes followed you as you let her drag you over to the playground. You supported her as she climbed the small rock-climbing wall and reach the landing for the slide. You then smiled as she made her way down the slide, telling her good job when she made it to the bottom.

You then turned your attention back to the boy in your arms, making silly faces at him until he laughed.

All it took was those few moments for Colson to get hooked. If there was one thing he found attractive above all else, it was women who loved children. He refused to date anyone who wasn’t supportive of his relationship with Casie, so you were already ahead of everyone on his list. It also helped that you were breathtakingly beautiful.

Colson just got good vibes from you. From his brief observation of you, he could tell you were compassionate and kind, but also childlike and fun, much like himself.

The blonde man was pulled from his thoughts as the car in front of him started moving, signaling the line was moving.

 The next day, Colson had a plan. Instead of driving into the school parking lot, he pulled into the pre-school. He checked himself out in the mirror, praying he would see you working. He stepped out of the car, putting on his best confused dad face, and walked into the building.

And by some miracle, you happened to be speaking with the woman at the front desk.

You were even prettier up close, eyes meeting his and stopping him dead in his tracks. You smiled kindly, voice ringing out, “can I help you, sir.”

He returned your smile, “I was looking for the middle school but I have a feeling I ended up in the wrong place.”

You giggled slightly, “just a little. The middle school is just next door.” You pointed to your right. “Are you picking up a sibling?” You asked.

Truthfully, the man had caught your eye the moment he stepped into the door. It was rare you saw someone your own age, and he was exponentially more attractive than most men. What would it hurt if you got to know him a little bit?

“My daughter, actually.” He spoke, fiddling with the key in his hand. You tilted your head, his face seeming vaguely familiar.

You hesitated before speaking, “who’s your daughter? I substitute over there sometimes and you look vaguely familiar.”

He bit his lip, hoping he hadn’t blown his cover. “Casie Baker.” But surely, he’d have remembered you if he’d met you.

Your eyes widened at the name, “Casie? She’s my absolute favorite!” You grinned at the man, realizing immediately that their similar features made him feel familiar. “She’s awesome.”

Colson smiled, letting out a nervous chuckle, “thank you. Yeah, she’s great.”

“She tells me about you. Whenever I sub in her classes, she talks about how cool you are.”

Colson blushed lightly, rubbing his neck. “I’m Colson.” He reached out an arm to shake your hand, mentally kicking himself as soon as he did it.

You found it endearing, shaking his hand “Y/N.”

 A few days passed and Colson still couldn’t get over how soft your hands were, or how your touch sent electricity running through his body.

He felt ridiculous, leaving rehearsals and recording sessions to pick Casie up with the hope that he gets a glimpse of you.

After a few days of nothing, he almost loses that hope. Until he happens to arrive at the school a little bit early, windows rolled down to let the cool air in. He hears the sudden sound of children laughing, pulling his attention to the playground next door.

And there you are, in all your beautiful glory. Guiding the kids out, helping them into swings and onto the stairs.

Colson must’ve pleased some God because you looked over your shoulder and found him. Of all the cars in the line, you found his, eyes locking immediately. You smiled softly, reaching a hand over to him and waving. He waved back, trying to keep his cool. But really, he was freaking out.

He thought about saying something, or mouthing something, rather, as you were too far away to hear him, but he was stopped by the beautiful brown hair of his favorite girl in the world. Casie plopped herself down on the seat next to him, her backpack falling to the floor with a frown on her face.

She looked up to her dad, about to complain about her day when she saw his preoccupation. She followed his eyes, finding you in the playground. Immediately her mood was lifted, and she turned back to her dad with a grin on her face.

“Daaad?” She questioned, her voice lifting at the end of her question. The blond man looked down to her a soft smile in his face.

“Hey Case, how was school?”

“You think she’s pretty, right?” Casie ignored his question.

Colson scoffed, rolling his eyes, and shifting his car into gear. “She’s… pretty. I guess.” He mumbled, pressing lightly on the gas.

Casie continued smiling up at him, “that’s Ms. Y/N. She’s the coolest.”

“Put your seatbelt on.” He said, pulling out of the parking lot. “And I know, I met her the other day.”

Casie’s eyes lit up at the thought of her two favorite adults meeting. “Really? How? Did you like her?”

Colson chuckled at his daughter, “I went into the pre-school parking lot by accident and she showed me how to get here.” He blushed, knowing Casie would easily spot his lie.

And that she did, “I’ve been going here for almost two years, how did you accidentally go into the wrong parking lot? You pick me up all the time.”

Colson coughed nervously, “so, how was school?” He tried to change the subject.

Casie gasped, “did you go to the preschool just to see her? You like her!”

“I just met her Casie.”

“You like Ms. Y/N!” she sang, dancing in her seat.

“How was school, loser?” He asked, laughing at her.

She ignored him, again. “Does she know you’re my dad? Did she say anything about me?”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself at her excitement. “Yes, she does, and yes, she did.”

“What did she say?” Casie practically yelled.

“She said you were the worst student she’s ever substituted for.” He smirked, flinching lightly as Casie slapped his arm.

“She did not say that!” The girl pouted, “Ms. Y/N is my favorite teacher in the whole world.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her affection for you. “She’s not even technically your teacher. But she did say that you were her favorite student.”

Her eyes twinkled, “really?”

Colson nodded, “she also told me that you talk about me in class.” He looked at the girl, raising an eyebrow, “any reason why?”

Casie sunk into her seat, a guilty expression on her face. “No.” Colson looked back to the road, but his eyebrow was still raised, “Okay, fine. I just think it’d be really cool if my favorite dad and my favorite teacher were… friends.”

Colson laughed, “I am your only dad, first of all, and second… don’t be weird.”

“But you said you liked her!” Casie pointed out, making the man’s ears turn red.

“I said she was pretty, that’s not the same thing.”

Casie sang again, “whatever you say.”

He rolled his eyes again, letting out a sigh and dropping the conversation, knowing he would lose. “Are you gonna tell me how school was or not?”

Casie sighed, hitting her back against the seat, “Mr. Clemmons was being mean today again. He said he’s not gonna curve our test even though only 2 people got an A on it.” She crossed her arms and huffed.

Colson pouted, bringing a hand to rub her shoulder, “what’d you get on it?”

She mumbled out, “a B.”

His eyes went wide, “dude, what? That’s awesome, that’s above average. You should be proud of that!” He always tried to encourage Casie, knowing the insane amount of pressure people put on their kids nowadays and not wanting her to feel that.

Casie shrugged, “yeah but my guidance counselor says if I want to get into a magnet program in high school, I have to get all A’s. And I have to get in a magnet program high school to get into a good college.”

His eyes went wide as he pulled into his driveway, “woah, woah, woah. You’re 11 years old! You don’t need to worry about that stuff and whoever is telling you that is wrong. Getting a B or even a C isn’t gonna stop you from getting into whatever program you want, I promise.”

Casie sighed, opening the door, and sliding out. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. Can we go back to talking about how you like Ms. Y/N?” She asked, her shoulders slumped.

Colson rolled his eyes, climbing out of the car and following her inside. “I don’t like Ms. Y/N.” He groaned.

“Whatever, but next time she substitutes my class, I’m texting you and you’re gonna bring me lunch and talk to her.” Casie said, going to her room and throwing her backpack onto her bed.

 A week and a half later, Colson was sitting in his car in the school parking lot, staring at himself through his rearview mirror. He looked at the bag of chick-fil-a in the passenger side seat and sighed. His phone buzzed, a text from Casie coming through.

Lunch is starting, where are you???

He chuckled and texted back.

Going to the office now, calm down

He grabbed the bags and drinks, opening his door and stepping out. He made his way through the office, getting his visitor’s badge, and moving towards the cafeteria. He opened the door, searching through the sea of children for his daughter, only to find your eyes instead.

You smiled brightly, head tilting as if to ask why he’s here. He returned the smile, holding up the bags to answer your question. Casie appeared next to you, waving her hand. Colson made his way through the pre-teens, trying not to crush any of them.

Casie and you giggled at his struggle, joking with each other. Eventually he reached you two, setting the food on the table that Casie had reserved just for you three. The girl took her place across from him, motioning you to sit down next to him. You laughed but followed her directions.

Colson took the food out of the bag, passing Casie her sandwich and fries and pulling his food out of the bag. He turned to you, a smile on his face. “Woah, they must’ve given me an extra sandwich.” He held it out for you to take.

You obliged, giggling lightly. “How strange.” You commented, your smile never leaving.

“Oh, right. Ms. Y/N, this is my dad, Colson. Dad, this is Ms. Y/N, the best substitute ever.” Casie said, pointing between the two.

Colson chuckled, “yes, Casie. We’ve met.” He looked over to you, hiding his laugh behind his sandwich.

“Yep. Someone got lost and found me at the preschool.” You said, your voice exaggerating. Shit, Colson thought, you were onto him. “Speaking of, Casie. I know you’ve been talking about needing volunteer hours. If you want you can come by after school some days and help me with the aftercare program? I can take you home afterwards if your dad can’t pick you up.”

Casie smiled brightly, nodding her head. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

Colson watched the interaction, fondness in his eyes. If he wasn’t sure before, he was now. He was falling hard.

You turned to him, kindness in your eyes, “if it’s okay with your dad.” You said and he nodded.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind having her around. I’m cool with it.” He tried to hide the blush on his cheeks as you continued to look at him, taking in his features.

Casie squealed, “thank you!”

You simply smiled and shrugged, “it’s not a big deal. I get some extra help and I get to spend some more time with my favorite 11-year-old. Maybe her dad can even stop by and help sometime.”

You turned to the man next to you, who was sure he’d turned very red. He was never this nervous around women, but something about you made him incredibly self-conscious, like he had to impress you.

He mumbled out a quick “huh?” before registering your question. “Uh, yeah, sure. If you want me to come help. I’d be cool with that.” He turned to meet your eyes.

You giggled, holding the eye contact, “I do want you to. I’d like it a lot if you did.”

Casie looked between you two, suddenly regretting what she’d done, “are you two done? I’m trying to eat my sandwich.”

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here!

A/N: Shout out to @ideas-for-you-to-adopt​ for inspiring/writing a lot of the headcanons used for the “Bella Suspicion” part of this chapter!

I’m posting this a day early, because, well I’m flakey like that

* You spear another piece of pineapple, your teeth grinding together

* “I think that sounds perfect!” Lauren squeals lightly grasping Bella’s shoulder, Bella gives a small smile in return.

* You know what isn’t perfect?

* The fact that nothing is going according to plan.

* It’s already a month in and NOTHING has happened. You stab another piece of pineapple, sticking it into your mouth

* You’ve hung back in the school parking lot everyday for a MONTH, you were even late to cheer practice once, just to see if the “Tyler Van Accident”  happened.

* Only it never did, and you didn’t know why until Lauren confided that she and Tyler had been hooking up lately.

* As in hooking up at her house after school before her parents came home.

* Of course it’s not going to happen when Tyler’s ditching his last period to drive to her house

* What a mess

* You chew the pineapple carefully, just like a human would. Because even though Bella knows LITERALLY NOTHING. She somehow suspects everything.

* You watch her from the corner of your eye, making polite conversation with Angela about biology next period.

* The amount of questions she has about you is ridiculous

* How did you meet Edward? How does your family know the Cullen’s? Where are you adoptive parents now? If they’re back in the states why haven’t you gone to live with them?

* It’s literally never ending. And that’s just her trying to poke holes in your story.

* You’re not even going to start with all the stuff she’s commented on your physical appearance

* “Hey don’t you think it’s weird they all have gold eyes?” You had heard Bella quietly ask Jessica when she thought you couldn’t hear

* “Not really, they’ve got like six kids, so when one kid needs something more of them do too. (Y/N) told me Alice wanted color contacts so Dr. Cullen just bought some for all of them.”

* And then the week before that, while you were doing a stunt at a basketball game Bella said:

* “Aren’t they like, too strong?” You were lifting up a girl all on your own.

* “Oh yeah- I guess you never saw the video, apparently they’re jacked.” Conner says, with a shrug.

* “Yeah they heard working out helps with stress when they were like 12 and just never stopped.” Mike adds absentmindedly

* And if that wasn’t enough she’s even said this a few weeks before that:

* “Don’t you think it’s weird how beautiful they all are?” Lauren wrinkles her nose, at the time she had gotten used to Bella but she still doesn’t seem to like her very much

* “Not really, I remember (Y/N) wasn’t all that pretty freshman year, they used to wear these really dorky glasses.”

* You had almost started to forget how good you had it, after you did all the leg work in the last two years to establish that you were normal -just kinda quirky- you had just started to enjoy the pay off. A little more lax with your appearance, wearing clothes you liked, doing more solo routines in cheer.

* Only for little Miss.Curious to show up

* Now you have to try extra hard to look human again. And not just you, the entire coven does, because when one of you falls under suspicion you all do.

* Rosalie’s been making her hair look messy every so often to give the illusion that she’s having a bad hair day, Alice wears a retainer every so often, even Emmett pretends to need the bathroom more than he usually does.

* This morning you even had Rosalie do a fake pimple on your jaw.

* If Bella wasn’t going to be your best friends’ future wife, you think you might just hate her.

* You kind of sympathize with Rosalie in the book now.

* “Hey (Y/N) are you in?” Conner asks nudging his elbow against yours.

* “In for what?” You mumble, spearing another piece of pineapple. Another downside is now you have to eat at lunch. Otherwise Bella starts asking why you never eat and everyone gets really concerned and starts force feeding you

* God, all those years of establish you have low blood sugar and acid reflux induced nausea for nothing

* “La Push beach, we’re all going this weekend.” You perk up at the mention

* Finally, something’s getting back on track

* “Can’t, cheer stuff.” You mumble, shoving your food around your plate with your fork.

* You don’t miss Bella’s meaningful glance on your mostly full plate.

* Oh great, you can practically see the question “don’t you think it’s weird how they never eat anything?” Forming in the inner corners of her mind

* “What about you Edward?” Lauren flutters her eyelashes and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

* Lauren’s still annoyed that even though they’re hooking up, Tyler hasn’t made anything official yet

* Alice told her flirting with another guy might help.

* “He’s not going either.” You say before Edward can even open his mouth. He doesn’t say anything just gives you a questioning look and a smile.

* Looks like he’s finding everyone else’s thoughts more interesting

* “Are you guys going on a date?” Jessica waggles her eyebrows and on the other side of the table Bella sputters.

* You roll your eyes

* “No Jessica, but if I can’t go have fun neither can he.” Technically you both are forbidden to go on tribal land but whatever. “Best friend code.”

* Also you’re pretty sure Edward and Emmett are going to Yellowstone to eat bears or something, like a couple of heathens

* The thought of eating straight out of bear, no idea what they’ve eaten or where they’ve been doing their business, makes you shudder. 

* You did mention to them both that if they happen to find an orphaned bear cub somewhere to bring it back. You’ve been wanting to experiment with bear blood. 

* “Best friend code.” Edward repeats slowly, and the look he gives you makes your stomach flutter. And it’s not because you just ate half a salad.

* You’re knocked out of the look when Conner bumps his knee against yours

* “Well that’s a shame, I was looking forward to seeing you in a swimsuit.”

* So Conner’s been flirting a lot with you lately. Kind of weird, your best guess is that he was hoping to date Lauren, but now that she’s kinda seeing Tyler, you’re starting to look good.

* “Maybe you should have a pool party at that fancy house of yours then.” The group laughs but Conner just smirks

* “Whatever you want babe but-“ the bell cuts him off and you give him a consolatory pat on the arm.

* You move to throw away the leftover food on your plate, walking with Edward

* “We’re ditching right?” You ask him as you toss the plate into the trash.

* “Yeah Mr. Barnes is doing his blood type experiment today.” Like he even needs an excuse to skip school. “Do you want to go to the bookstore or something?”

* You shake your head, that won’t do, when Bella faints Edward needs to be there so they can fall in love

* “Wanna just hang out in my car? We can listen to that new Debussy CD I got.”

* Edward gives you a small smile, like he’s not really happy

* “Whatever you want.”

* Wait what’s up with that.

* “Hey, (Y/N)!” Bella calls out for you and Edward grimaces.

* “I’ll meet you at your car” wait he’s not going to stay here? If this was a dating video game he’d be the kind of player that wasted all the capture flags and then complains when they end up all alone.

* He leaves just as Bella gets to you. She spares a fleeting glance in Edward’s direction, almost looking sad as she watches him walk away before she looks to you

* “Are you heading over to biology?” She really is cute, like a puppy. She must have been hoping to get a little closer to Edward. 

* You almost feel bad for not warning her what with her issues on blood.

* “Nah I’ve got to finish my trig homework so I’m going to skip.” You fake a yawn.

* Oh, before you forget

* “I actually got you something.”

* You hand her a carefully wrapped gift bag, compliments of Rosalie of course

* “Vitamins?” Bella asks, her eyebrows threading together

* “Yeah, it’s like a vitamin powder, you just add it to water. We bought a big family pack so I thought I would share some with you.”

* Also because you’re 100% sure she’s anemic.

* Part of the reason you like the way she smells so much is because of her anemia, if it’s just the peach scent you can probably contain yourself. 

* You wave goodbye and Bella looks down at the package in her hands with a goofy expression. She hugs it to her chest before her expression pinches.

* “I should have offered to let them copy my notes” Bella murmurs to herself. Smacking her forehead and walking to biology.

* When you manage to sneak out to the parking lot through the gym doors, you see Edward leaning against your car, looking bored as he looks to the tree line

* “Why didn’t you sit inside? You look like a douchebag.”

* “I would have if someone had given me the keys”

* Like that’s stopped him before

* You unlock the car, letting it start with a hum before you pull out your trig homework

* You weren’t entirely lying to Bella, you really hadn’t finished you homework

* Edward pulls out a book from his bag, you’re not ashamed to say you’ve gotten him super into “The City of Ember” series

* “Hey why did you walk away when Bella came over?” you’re only half curious, mostly just trying to make conversation. “You don’t hate her do you?” You add with a laugh.

* The mere thought of Edward Cullen hating Bella Swan is laughable.

* “Yeah I do.” 

* You find yourself coughing from the sheer shock. 

* “You mean she frustrates you because you can’t read her mind.” Edward has spared you a concerned glance when you started coughing, but has turned his attention back to his book

*” No I mean I don’t like her, and I don’t like being around her.” He doesn’t look up from his book as he says it. 

* “But why?” Yeah she’s a little plain, and she’s still pretty shy even though you’ve been hanging out for a month and all those damn questions

* But she’s got good taste in books, and she’s pretty straightforward.

* She’s not the type of person to go behind your back, if you did something to upset her she’ll tell you straight to your face.

* Honestly she’s a lot like Angela, minus the hidden cunning nature.

* Edward eyes narrow and a heavy sigh escapes him. His head tilts back to rest against the passenger seat headrest.

* His neck is so long and white. The color of freshly fallen snow. You can’t help but think of how pretty it would look covered in hickeys.

* Like poppy’s blossoming in the snow. 

* Can vampires get hickeys? Would it just be like black instead of red since none of you really have blood anymore. 

* “I just don’t like-” He cuts himself off when his eyes meet yours, they seem to shine brighter for a moment, and you tilt your head. This feels like a meaningful look. 

* Edward sighs and looks away.

* “I just don’t like her vibe.” 

*”Vibe? Are you an Edward shaped imposter?” you see him mouth ‘Edward Shaped Imposter’ as you both laugh. 

* “Where did you learn to say these things?” He asks between laughs. You mock gasp.

* “The real Edward would never ask me that because he’s too afraid to know! Who are you really? What planet are you from?” Your hands move to his face, his face is as smooth as marble, lingering warmth. You leaned in without thinking about it, only a few inches away from him. 

* You’re so close you can smell him. He always smells good, like something ancient and profound. Rosemary and argon oil. 

* Your hands are still on his face and he’s grinning. 

* You gulp

* You’re trying to think of another ridiculous imposter joke you can make wen you catch a familiar head of blond hair through the window.

* “Is that Mike and ... Bella?”  

* This is a lot sooner than you thought, it hasn’t even been ten minutes yet.

* Edward looks almost bored as he follows your gaze. 

* “Yeah, looks like she made herself sick, she’s - what’s that word for when people are afraid of blood?” 

* “Hemophobia?”

* “Yeah, that’s what she has.”

* You wait for a second, releasing his face from your hands, but instead of moving to open the door he slumps back into his seat, eyes focused on his book. 

* “Don’t you think we should go help them?” He shrugs. 

* The f*cking criminal just shrugs. 

* WHAT THE F*CK IS GOING ON?!?!

* Human or not, there’s no world Edward wouldn’t at least think about helping someone who’s in trouble. 

* You’re starting to think this really is an Edward imposter. 

* You watch Bella lean on Mike, stumbling down the crosswalk to the nurse’s office in the next building. 

* You can’t watch anymore 

* ‘You know you-” You words finally get Edward’s attention as he looks up from his book. “You are wasting all the capture flags!” You shout before sliding out of your car and jogging over to Mike and Bella

* “Mike! What happened?” He’s so surprised to see you his grip on Bella goes slack and she falls out of his side hold.

* “Oh crap!” 

* You rush to catch her, swinging her into a princess hold.

* What was Mike struggling with so much? She’s not very hea - oh right you’re a vampire.

* “Are you alright, I know she’s kinda heavy.” Well that’s not very nice to say about a girl, besides she’s pretty skinny. Can’t be more than 120 pounds. 

* “It’s no problem, I do it for cheer are all the time.” You do a fake grunt as you pretend to get a better hold on her. 

* The movement jostle her awake, her eyes fluttering open. She’s still in a dreamy state, her eyes are unfocused. 

* “(Y/N)?” 

* “Hey buddy, looks like ya fainted, squeamish around blood huh?”

* “How do you know we were doing the blood type experiment?” Mike asks.

* Oh crap. You were skipping, you weren’t supposed to know that. Even worse you brain can’t seem to come up with a valid excuse.

* “Alice told us about it, (Y/N) used to be squeamish around blood when we were kids, didn’t want to take any chances” You let out a sigh of relief when you see Edward walking towards you. At least he’s not completely heartless. 

*”Then why were you skipping?” Mike asks scratching his head. Edward shrugs

* “They can’t go to class, then I won’t go either.” And then the criminal looks you straight in the eye and says with the cheekiest smile imaginable:

*“It’s the best friend code”

* Oh f*ck off Edward. 

* You almost want to scoff when he takes Bella from your arms and into his.

* SO now he wants to care about the capture flag. 

* You let him take her though, You swear you see her stiffen and frown when he holds her.

* That can’t be right, she seemed super relaxed when you were carrying her.

* “I-I’m fine I can walk.”

* “No you can’t.” Edward bluntly says.

* Even when he gets to capture event, he says all the wrong things. You sigh as you walk behind him. Only to notice another set of footsteps by you. 

* “You can go back if you want Mike, Edward won’t kidnap her or anything.” He might throw her into the lake though.

* Mike shakes his head. “No it just seems wrong to not make sure she at least gets to the nurses office.” 

*You smile, he really is a kind boy. 

* “Also I’ll be damned if Bella gives Edward all the credit.” Well mostly kind.

* You get to the nurses office, who seems incredibly flustered with both you and Edward in such a small space.

* She seems so preoccupied keeping her wits about her as she checks out Bella and deals with your presence that she never asks why three people had to escort one person to the nurses office.

* “Well your blood pressure is a little low, since you fainted I would suggest you go home. If you want you can take a nap in here until school’s out.” Wow, where was a nurse this generous when you were in school.

* Bella, the beautiful moron, shakes her head.

* “No it’s okay I’ll go back to class, I don’t want to take a zero for the assignment” Well that’s noble and responsible and all. But what does she think is going to happen when she goes back to class?

* She’s going to see some blood again and faint. Not that you can be mad, you would probably have to go the the nurse too if Bella ever managed to prick her own finger

* “Bella you really shouldn’t,” You settle your hand on her shoulder pushing her back onto the chair. “You just fainted you should lie down, or go home or something.”

* Her eyebrows thread together, mouth pulled in protest. 

* “I don’t want to impose on any-”

* “It’s not an imposition, I want to!” Her mouth parts, then closes, stretching into a fine line. You look to Edward who’s avoiding your gaze and seems very irritated.

* Enemies to lovers trope it is.(Though you’re not sure if this counts as enemies if only one person dislikes the other)

* “I’m going to drop you off home, come on.” You pull Bella up by her hand, leading her to the parking lot. 

* “Wait what about my car?” 

* Oh you hadn’t thought about that. 

*Hmmm in the original book Alice drove her home. But Alice doesn’t really do anything unless there’s something in it for her, or if she wants to.

* Also you’re pretty sure when she ditched today when she found out that people were pricking there finger on campus. She claimed it was for Jasper, but you’re pretty sure there’s a sale in the Nordstrom in Seattle.

* Edward would rather get the flu than drive Bella’s ancient truck.

* Which leaves only one option.

* You toss your keys to Edward who catches them with one hand.

* “Edward will drive you home in my car, and I’ll drive your car behind him.” 

* “What about Rosalie?” He grumbles.

*“What about Rosalie?” Why is he being so difficult right now? Doesn’t he realize you’re doing this all for him!

* “You’re driving her home since Emmett and I are leaving for Yellow Stone as soon as school lets out.” Oh right the bears. Cr*p.

* “It’s not a big deal, I’ll drive back to school after we’re done and you can go your way and I’ll go mine.”

* You can tell Edward doesn’t like it, but he just sigh’s climbing into your car and then promptly getting out of the passenger side and sitting in the driver’s side.

* The dork forgot he had to drive the car.

* You’re dying laughing as Bella leads you to her car.

* “It’s the blue one.”

* Her truck isn’t all that bad. It’s old, but in a kind of retro way. It’s powder blue, with only two doors and no backseat. 

* You climb in, turning the engine and hearing it purr. Well it’s more of a roar, but it’s not terrible.

* You’re surprised when Bella climbs through the passenger side door. 

* “Um, you’re not going to drive with Edward?” She looks at you like you just asked her to recite the Fibonacci sequence. 

* “Why would I go with him when you’re the one driving my car?” Okay, that’s fair.

* You sigh, why does nothing ever go according to plan.

* Maybe it’s for the best, Edward doesn’t seem to be in the best mood. Not that this is good either, she’s sitting so close to you, her peachy scent fills the small space of the truck and you feel lightheaded.

* It’s less than a ten minute trip, no need to get dramatic. You’re pretty sure you won’t kill her just because she smells nice.

* “Soooooo... what do you want to talk about?” You ask as you turn out of the school, this car is super slow compared to yours, you’re pretty sure it won’t go over 50 mph.

* Bella fidgets beside you, playing with the ends of her hair. 

* “So are you and Edward...dating?”

* You laugh so loud you actually start coughing. And then you laugh again. 

* “No-pfff- no We’re uh- we’re not dating.” You finally manage. 

* “Why is that so funny to you?” She asks, genuinely confused.

* “Well it’s just outrageous you know?” How would that even work? You can’t even picture it. Edward getting all hot and bothered because you’re wearing an oversized sweater and glasses. You flirting with him all over the house in front of Carlisle and Esme. Edward signing up for a sport just so he can see you in his letterman.

* It’s all...impossible.

* And yet, there is one thing you can picture. 

* Edward by your side, he’s almost golden brown, his eyes bright green. He points to the living room, and in there are Alec and Jane, both of their eyes blue as they argue over who’s turn it is to watch TV. 

* Maybe if you were human, if you had met in a different world or a different time, that would be something you could have. 

* But it is what it is

* “Edward and I have been friends for a really long time, we’ve just seen too much of each other to find each other attractive like that.” 

* Bella looks like she doesn’t believe you but she doesn’t say anything.

* Wait what are you doing? This is the perfect chance to talk Edward up!

* “But you know Edward is a real stand up guy!” It leaves a little too forcefully, a little inauthentic.

* “Oh is he?” She doesn’t sound too excited to be talking about this.

* “I know he’s got one of those face-”

* “Obnoxiously handsome?” She spats 

* “Like he thinks existence is a curse, and the world is evil and everything is terrible -” Wait you’re getting off track. “B-but he really is a good guy!”

* You bite your lip, as Bella tells you to turn into a subdivision. 

* “You know after- after I was adopted,” After your parents died. “I was really lonely, I had a family that loved me and anything I asked for but I didn’t really have anyone to talk to” Oh god, why did you choose this story to pick? “Edward was probably the only friend my age I had for years.”

* She straightens up a little bit, a curious glint in her eyes.

* “Really?” You nod.

* “Yeah he would come by every Monday and Wednesday,” You still remember the crunch of the snow under your feet as you both walked to the barn. He always asked why you didn’t just run, and you always told him because you liked the way you could see your breath hang in the air,

* “He could have been out that time, hanging out with other people,” More well adjusted vampires, who hunted instead of harvesting small amounts from animals they raised. “or chasing girls and playing sports, but he stayed with me.”

* “He always made me feel safe, and I’m sure whoever is lucky enough to end up with him will feel that way too.” 

* “I think you’re giving him too much credit” Bella finally says, you smile at her

* “what do you mean?” 

* “Well, who wouldn’t drop everything to hang out with you?” You can’t tell if she’s being genuine or if she’s bitter. Your eyes meet hers and there’s a twinkle in them. ”My house is the one on the left, the one with the magnolia tree.”

* You come to a stop in front of the house she mentioned, shifting it into park, and handing her the keys. 

* You don’t say anything as you climb out of her car. You see Edward stopped a few dozen feet behind her truck, your jeep still on. 

* “Thanks for driving me home” She smiles at you, a real smile that reaches her eyes. It’s nice.

* “No problem, it gave me an excuse to ditch school too haha.” You both stand in awkward silence. Neither of you moving. 

* Well damn what are you supposed to do now?

* “Oh, hey do you want me to bring you your homework or anything?” 

* She perks up at that, reaching into her pocket

*  “If you don’t mind, could you text me what page he homework is on for trig today?” 

* “ Oh for sure! No problem at all” You take her cell phone in your hand. It’s a white sidekick, with a picture of a cactus on the back. She must have gotten it when she moved.

* You can’t help but wonder if she has any friends she misses. She spent her entire life in one community, sure Phoenix is a pretty big place, but she must have had friends, people she sat with at lunch everyday, girls she had known since childhood, sleepovers where they whispered about boys they had crushes on.

* As you hand her phone back, your contact information saved in it, you can’t help but wonder who this person in front of you is. You know her, but at the same time, you know absolutely nothing about her. 

* “See you Monday!” You wave goodbye as you get into the passenger side of your car, and Bella waits on the porch until you and Edward leave.

* Edward’s got that look on his face.

* “Edward why are you mad?” 

* “I’m not mad.” He grumbles and you raise an eyebrow. He sighs.

* “You’re going out of your way an awful lot for that human.” He says as he turns back onto the highway.

* “It’s just the right thing to do Eddie.” 

* He shakes his head, his mouth pinched into a frown

* “Just be careful, I don’t know what that one’s thinking, she could be planning to burn our entire coven for all I know.”

* You roll your eyes, yeah you bet Bella who weights exactly 115 pounds, and has anemia is single handedly planning to bring down the entire vampire race. 

* “How about we make a deal, I’ll promise not to rock the boat while you and Emmett are gone-”

* “Why do I feel like I’m going to regret not covering my ears?”

*” If you promise to bring me back a bear cub - an orphaned one.” He gives you a look you don’t quite care for.

* “You want me to kill a mother bear so you can have a bear cub?” 

* “No of course not! I’m just saying- Emmett doesn’t really look before he kills  so if he kills a mother bear, just make sure you bring me the cubs.” 

* “Why do you even want a bear? How are you planning to take care of it with all those deer around, they need a lot-”

* “Yes Dad I know it’s a big responsibility, don’t worry I won’t make you take it on walks or anything.” 

* Edward gulps hard, one hand detaching from the steering wheel to cover his mouth. 

* Wouldn’t it be positively sinful for you to be underneath him, whining ‘daddy, please’ in that breathy voice of yours and-

* Edward.exe is broken. 

* “Dude you really need to get your shit together before you go on your trip, we’ve been parked for fifteen minutes and your foot is still on the brake.” You say as you get out of the car

* He hits his head against the steering wheel.

* “Yeah, I really do need to get my shit together.” 

Tags:  @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @ xxxmuxxx  @ideas-for-you-to-adopt​​ @poisoinedhope @maryleigh8796​ @moose-squirrel-asstiel​ @hotmessgoodness​

[calzona-ga]

In her unauthorized book, Lynette Rice explores the stories behind some of the ABC drama's biggest moments, including — in this exclusive excerpt — the factors that led to McDreamy's shocking death.

In How to Save a Life: The Inside Story of Grey’s Anatomy, author Lynette Rice recounts the ABC medical drama’s eventful 16-year history, revealing new details behind some of the show’s biggest departures. Included in the unauthorized, 320-page oral history (St. Martin’s Press, Sept. 21, $29.99) is a chapter that offers new insight into leading man Patrick Dempsey’s shocking exit in season 11 of the Shonda Rhimes-created drama. In the chapter, Rice speaks with Dempsey’s co-stars and exec producers who were present during filming of his final days on Grey’s Anatomy, and reveals claims of “HR issues” that contributed to the death of his alter-ego, Derek “McDreamy” Shepherd.

“There were HR issues. It wasn’t sexual in any way. He sort of was terrorizing the set. Some cast members had all sorts of PTSD with him,” recalls exec producer James D. Parriott, who was brought back to the series to oversee Dempsey’s exit.

In more than 80 interviews with current and former cast- and crewmembers, Rice, an editor-at-large at Entertainment Weekly, also explores the show’s early days, recounts the thinking behind some of its more polarizing storylines and offers exclusive details about the show’s behind-the-scenes culture.

“After 17 seasons, fans still can’t get enough of Grey’s Anatomy,” Rice tells THR. But what went down behind the scenes was just as dramatic as what viewers saw every Thursday. I’m excited for fans to read what I learned about those early days, along with what it was like to work for Shonda Rhimes, and why the drama was so freakin’ headline-prone.”

Below, The Hollywood Reporter shares an excerpt — the full eighth chapter — from How to Save a Life, and tune in Friday to TV’s Top 5 for an interview with Rice about her book and the other big reveals she uncovered in her reporting for it.

(Reps for ABC, ABC Signature, Shondaland, and Dempsey declined comment on the reveals in Rice’s book.)

“He’s Very Dreamy, but He’s Not the Sun,” Or, How Grey’s Anatomy Loved — Then Learned to Live Without — Patrick Dempsey Ellen Pompeo may have played the titular role, but for many fans over many years, Patrick Dempsey was the real draw to Grey’s Anatomy. Some of it had to do with his celebrity: Dempsey was the most famous member of the original cast at the time of the pilot and brought with him quite a cult following from his 1987 movie Can’t Buy Me Love. But a lot of it was due to the way Rhimes wrote her McDreamy and how Dempsey depicted him. James D. Parriott I would say, “The guy would never say that,” and Shonda would say, “He’s McDreamy. He’s the perfect man. He would say that.” I’d say, “Okay. It’s your show.” Eric Buchman Shonda had a very clear idea of how important it was to keep Derek as this almost idealized love interest, not just for Meredith but for the audience. Naturally, the writers—especially writers who had been working on one-hour dramas for a while—were like, “Well, maybe have McDreamy make a big mistake in surgery and kill somebody. Or he develops an addiction of some kind. What is his deep, dark secret?” Shonda was very insistent: that’s not the character we do that with. Even when you find out he’s married, that was done in a very sympathetic way that kept him being a hero. He was wronged by his spouse and in spite of it all he was still gonna give his marriage a second chance. Stacy McKee Shonda was protective of McDreamy, but it was really with an eye toward being protective of Meredith. I don’t think the two were separate from one another. I don’t think she wanted to put something out there that maybe on the surface might seem a little frivolous. At its core, there was something really substantial that she wanted to say. She wanted to be very specific about the type of relationship values that she put out there. Tony Phelan I was in editing with Shonda once, and it was the scene where Meredith and Derek had broken up. He comes over and she’s like, “I can’t remember the last time we kissed.” And he says, “I remember. You were wearing this and you smelled of this …”

Joan Rater “Your shampoo smelled like flowers, you had that sweater on …” He described their last kiss. Tony Phelan Typically in editing you start on Derek, then you cut to Meredith for a reaction, and then you’ll go back to him. I noticed that we weren’t ever cutting back to Meredith. I asked why. Shonda said, “Because the woman in Iowa who’s watching this show wants to believe that Patrick is talking to her, and if you cut back to Meredith, it pushes them out of it.” In those special moments, we would just lock into Derek and let him do his thing. Joan Rater And he was a master at it. Patrick Dempsey He’s the ideal man, and that’s what Shonda constructed. There’s a projection [of him] onto me when you come in contact with fans, certainly with the younger and older fans. There is a certain amount of expectation. There is a responsibility to it. It made me grow, too. There were good qualities [of his] that you work on to obtain. Off camera, Dempsey was equally as charismatic to his fellow actors, crew members, and anyone who would come to visit the set. Lauren Stamile I was going in to meet him, and I remember I had this little cardigan sweater on and I took it off before I got into the room. Dempsey is one of those people—it’s almost like there’s a light shining around his body, and you feel like you’re the only person in the room. I got so hot and I remember saying, “Gosh, I would take off my sweater if I had one on because I’m so hot, but I took it off.” I was just babbling. He said, “You look nice,” and I said, “You look nicer.” I felt so awkward and he was so gracious and lovely. I was having a nervous breakdown. It’s like this “it” factor. I was like, God, whatever he has, I wish I had. I think it was very obvious how nervous I was, and he went out of his way to make sure he introduced me to everybody and made sure I felt comfortable, which he certainly didn’t have to do. But he did. Joan Rater He knew I had a giant crush on him, and he loved it. And when we’d go to table reads—I was an actress at one point in my life—they would always give me Meredith if Ellen wasn’t there. And I’d be getting my chicken tenders at craft services before the table read and he’d come up behind me and say, “Are you reading Meredith?” in my ear, like, so sexy. I’d be like, Oh my God. I mean, I could barely … I could not look at him. Tina Majorino I worked with Patrick a ton. I love him so much. We had a really great time working together. I think he’s such a great actor and he really made me laugh a lot. I feel like we had a good dynamic in scenes together, and it was always fun to play opposite him. Yes, he’s that charismatic in real life. Yes, his hair is that awesome. Yes, he is dreamy up close.

Chandra Wilson Patrick Dempsey will forever be known as Grey’s Anatomy’s McDreamy. Derek Shepherd is a permanent part of television history.

Norman Leavitt He is a big, personable guy.

Jeannine Renshaw We all love Patrick. Patrick is a sweetheart. If I saw him on the street, I’d give him a hug. I love the guy.

Mark Wilding I’ve always had a soft spot for Patrick. He really does try to do the right thing. Brooke Smith, who played Dr. Erica Hahn, remembers how Dempsey defended her when the decision was made to fire her from the show in 2008. Brooke Smith I remember calling him and saying, “Oh my God, they said they can’t write for me anymore, so I guess I’m leaving.” And he was like, “What are you talking about? You’re the only one they’re writing for.” Which at that time, it kind of did feel that way. But I guess someone didn’t like that. They gave me a statement [to release, about her departure] and I never said it. Patrick said that he actually took it out of his jacket on The Ellen DeGeneres Show and read the statement. He won’t let me forget it. He was like, “I defended you, see?” And it was true.

By season eleven, however, fans saw a disturbing break in MerDer’s once unbreakable bond. Six episodes had gone by without a peep from Derek, who was supposedly in Washington, D.C., where he had apparently made out with a research fellow. Fans began threatening to bolt if their hero didn’t return soon to Seattle. “I have never missed one episode,” wrote a fan on Dempsey’s Facebook page. “But I swear if [Rhimes] kills you off I’m done.” But there was a critical reason for Derek’s strange absence: behind the scenes, there was talk of Dempsey’s diva-like fits and tension between him and Pompeo. To help manage the explosive situation, executive producer James D. Parriott was brought back in to serve as a veritable Dempsey whisperer.

Patrick Dempsey [That] was the first year that I haven’t been in every episode. I [was] in every episode since the pilot— close to 250 episodes. That [was a] huge run. James D. Parriott Shonda needed an OG to come in as sort of a showrunner for fourteen episodes. There were HR issues. It wasn’t sexual in any way. He sort of was terrorizing the set. Some cast members had all sorts of PTSD with him. He had this hold on the set where he knew he could stop production and scare people. The network and studio came down and we had sessions with them. I think he was just done with the show. He didn’t like the inconvenience of coming in every day and working. He and Shonda were at each other’s throats.

Jeannine Renshaw There were times where Ellen was frustrated with Patrick and she would get angry that he wasn’t working as much. She was very big on having things be fair. She just didn’t like that Patrick would complain that “I’m here too late” or “I’ve been here too long” when she had twice as many scenes in the episode as he did. When I brought it up to Patrick, I would say, “Look around you. These people have been here since six thirty a.m.” He would go, “Oh, yeah.” He would get it. It’s just that actors tend to see things from their own perspective. He’s like a kid. He’s so high energy and would go, “What’s happening next?” He literally goes out of his skin, sitting and waiting. He wants to be out driving his race car or doing something fun. He’s the kid in class who wants to go to recess.

Patrick Dempsey It’s ten months, fifteen hours a day. You never know your schedule, so your kid asks you, “What are you doing on Monday?” And you go, “I don’t know,” because I don’t know my schedule. Doing that for eleven years is challenging. But you have to be grateful, because you’re well compensated, so you can’t really complain because you don’t really have a right. You don’t have control over your schedule. So, you have to just be flexible.

Longtime Crew Member Poor Patrick. I’m not defending his schtick. I like him, but he was the Lone Ranger. All of these actresses were getting all this power. All the rogue actresses would go running to Shonda and say, “Hey, Patrick’s doing this. Patrick’s late for work. He’s a nightmare.” He was just shut out in the cold. His behavior wasn’t the greatest, but he had nowhere to go. He was so miserable. He had no one to talk to. When Sandra left, I remember him telling me, “I should’ve left then, but I stayed on because they showed me all this money. They just were dumping money on me.”

Patrick Dempsey It [was] hard to say no to that kind of money. How do you say no to that? It’s remarkable to be a working actor, and then on top of that to be on a show that’s visible. And then on top of that to be on a phenomenal show that’s known around the world, and play a character who is beloved around the world. It’s very heady. It [was] a lot to process, and not wanting to let that go, because you never know whether you will work again and have success again.

Jeannine Renshaw A lot of the complaining … I think Shonda finally witnessed it herself, and that was the final straw. Shonda had to say to the network, “If he doesn’t go, I go.” Nobody wanted him to leave, because he was the show. Him and Ellen. Patrick is a sweetheart. It messes you up, this business.

James D. Parriott I vaguely recall something like that, but I can’t be sure. It would have happened right toward the end, because I know they were negotiating and negotiating, trying to figure out what to do. We had three different scenarios that we actually had to break because we didn’t know until I think about three days before he came back to set which one we were going to go with. We didn’t know if he was going to be able to negotiate his way out of it. We had a whole story line where we were going to keep him in Washington, D.C., so we could separate him from the rest of the show. He would not have to work with Ellen again. Then we had the one where he comes back, doesn’t die, and we figure out what Derek’s relationship with Meredith would be. Then there was the one we did. It was kind of crazy. We didn’t know if he was going to be able to negotiate his way out of it. It was ultimately decided that just bringing him back was going to be too hard on the other actors. The studio just said it was going to be more trouble than it was worth and decided to move on.

Stacy McKee I don’t think there was any way to exit him without him dying. He and Meredith were such an incredibly bonded couple at that point. It would be completely out of character if he left his kids. There was no exit that would honor that character other than if he were to die. Patrick Dempsey I don’t remember the date [I got the news]. It was not in the fall. Maybe February or March. It was just a natural progression. And the way everything was unfolding in a very organic way, it was like, “Okay! This is obviously the right time.” Things happened very quickly. We were like, “Oh, this is where it’s going to go.”

So that was that: McDreamy would die in episode twenty-one of season eleven, even though Dempsey was in year one of his recently signed two-year contract extension. Rhimes wrote a script that was befitting of her lead’s heroic persona: she began “How to Save a Life” by having Derek witness a car crash and helping the injured. Once it appeared everyone was out of harm’s way, Derek continues on his road trip but is suddenly broadsided by a truck.

Rob Hardy (Director) The paramedics leave. He’s there by himself. He’s having a moment. The nice music is playing, and all of a sudden, bang. It comes out of nowhere, which, you know, is how accidents happen. So as opposed to watching it as a viewer, we saw the accident happen through Derek’s perspective. Derek ends up at Dillard Medical Center, a hospital far from Grey Sloan and the talented doctors who work there. His eyes are open, but his brain is severely damaged. No one hears his plea for a CT scan; he can’t speak. To help keep the episode a secret, the scenes were shot in an abandoned hospital in Hawthorne, California, about twenty-two miles from the show’s home studio in Los Feliz.

Mimi Melgaard It was really hard on all of us because it was so secretive and we had so many different locations. We shot at this closed-down hospital that was absolutely creepy haunted. All the scenes there were so sad anyway, and in this yucky-feeling haunted hospital? It was really weird. His whole last episode was really tough. Patrick Dempsey It was like any other day. It was just another workday. There was still too much going on. You’re in the midst of it—you’re not really processing it. Rob Hardy Here’s a guy who’s immobile. Now you’re inside of his head. We were trying to make that feel scary from the perspective of a person who’s used to being in control, from a person who usually has the power of life and death in his own hands. But now he doesn’t have the ability to speak on his own behalf.

Samantha Sloyan When I went to audition, I didn’t recognize any of these doctors’ names. I assumed they were just dummy sides so people wouldn’t ruin the story line or anything like that. All we knew is that we were dealing with a man who’s been in a car accident. I had no idea that it was going to be Derek. I just figured I was going to be a guest doctor and that whoever this person was who was injured, was going to be just a character on the show. Once it became clear what we were working on, I was like, Oh, my gosh. I can’t believe this is the episode I’m on.

Mike McColl (Dr. Paul Castello) I signed an NDA before they would release the script to me. I was reading it in my house, and I was like, “Oh, my God.” I didn’t tell anyone, including my agents. I just said, “This is a really great booking. It’s a great role on Grey’s.” And they didn’t know anything until it aired.

Savannah Paige Rae (Winnie) The first scene I shot was actually the sentimental scene when I’m saying, “It’s a beautiful day to save lives, right?” I’m in the hospital room with Derek and talking to him. Even though I never watched the show, I recognized the value of the episode I was in and just really took it to heart. It was so special that I got to be a part of it.

Rob Hardy [Patrick] had a lot of emotions during the whole shoot, which evolved. I think when we first started, he was very calm and cool … the same Patrick that I remembered when I worked on the show a year or so before. With each passing day, he was a lot more emotional. A lot more was on his mind, and that would show itself in different ways. The finality of the episode and for his character was setting in. You’ve become a global icon on this show and then in five, four, three, two, a day … it’s over.

James D. Parriott Patrick was very cooperative and good.

Mike McColl When I met Patrick, he’s lying on a stretcher and we’re rushing him into the ER. I just introduced myself, shook his hand, and was like, “Man, I cannot tell you what an honor it is to be the guy to take you down.” He loved it. He could not have been nicer to me and was funny through the whole shoot. He was on the table in front of me there when I cut his chest open and all that stuff. He gave me a hug at the end. It was a real privilege to be a part of TV history in that way.

Samantha Sloyan I remember him being incredibly kind. They had his neck in a brace, and he’s strapped down to the board, so there wasn’t a ton of chatting. I remember him being really kind, but it was clearly intense for him.

Stacy McKee It was such a beautiful piece of storytelling. I knew this event was going to be a really sad, horrible event for Meredith, but I also knew it was going to be the beginning of such an incredible chapter for Meredith.

Dempsey completed his final hours of shooting on a rainy night. There was no goodbye party, no goodbye cake. Maybe that’s because some cast members were left out of the loop. James Pickens, Jr., told ABC News that the cast “didn’t know a whole lot. It was kind of on the fly. So whatever information we got, we pretty much got it kind of right before it happened.”

Caterina Scorsone (Dr. Amelia Shepherd) I didn’t get to say goodbye to Patrick when he left. I do think that helped, because I’ve been using the character of Derek in my internal landscape since Private Practice. Derek was the stability in Amelia’s life. He became a father figure after they watched robbers shoot their father. When he was suddenly gone from the show, we didn’t have that closure, so I got to play it out. She’s about to use drugs again before Owen confronts her in a way that she finally talks about her feelings about losing Derek. She doesn’t end up using.

James D. Parriott The day he left, that was my last day. There was a certain sadness to it, but I think he was relieved. I mean, I think it took a toll on him, too.

Rob Hardy I didn’t see other actors showing up and saying, “Hey, it’s the last day! Wanted to come and wish you well.” I didn’t get that. It was more the Patrick show. We were in the Patrick world, and then Ellen came, and there was definitely a lot of emotion that both of them had individually … not necessarily together. It was more so her being there on the day that he died. He had his own way of being with that, and the same thing with her. It was like two people who grew up together and … here we are. They had their own way of reflecting.

Patrick Dempsey I very quietly left. It was beautiful. It was raining, which was really touching. I got in my Panamera, got in rush-hour traffic, and two hours later I was home. Big news like this doesn’t stay quiet for long. Both Michael Ausiello—who left EW in 2010 to launch the news site TVLine—and Lesley Goldberg of The Hollywood Reporter learned two weeks prior to Dempsey’s final episode that he would be leaving the show. No reporter worth their salt wants to sit on a scoop—least of all one as huge as this—but Ausiello and Goldberg didn’t want to spoil the outcome for fans, so they agreed to hold the story until after the episode aired. I eventually found out, too, but in the nuttiest way imaginable: I was standing on the set of CSI: Cyber, watching Patricia Arquette talk about some droll techno-criminal. Unfortunately, the publicist also cc’d Dempsey’s manager and ABC publicist while trying to give me a major story, so I couldn’t immediately report the scoop. But I did use the information to successfully negotiate the one and only exit interview with Dempsey. Two weeks before his final episode, I met him and his publicist at Feed Body & Soul in Venice, California, for a story that would hit newsstands on April 24. He seemed a little shell-shocked and at one point choked up, but at the time he said nothing about how his on-set behavior may have contributed to his ouster. My editor, Henry Goldblatt, wanted to put him on the cover of Entertainment Weekly, but he couldn’t guarantee to ABC that no one would see it before the episode aired. Good thing we didn’t: some subscribers got the issue on the morning of Dempsey’s final episode— and one actually tweeted the story. Our PR department tried to get the tweets removed, but the cat was out of the bag: some fans found out early that McDreamy was about to be McHistory. Outlets like Variety reported how the story got out early, while our PR department released this statement: “We are surprised that an EW subscriber may have received their issue a day earlier than planned. We always try our best to bring readers exclusive news first. We would like to apologize to fans of the show that learned the news ahead of time.” Dempsey’s final episode was watched by 8.83 million viewers—the show’s largest audience since the premiere that season. Variety even pontificated whether the ratings boost was due to my exclusive with Dempsey.

Lesley Goldberg (The Hollywood Reporter) I’m used to working with networks to hold news as part of their efforts to guard against plot spoilers. But the way Patrick Dempsey’s exit was handled involved a layer of paranoia and secrecy that has been unlike anything I’ve seen in my reporting career. News that he was leaving, and his character being killed off, would have been a major story considering how big the show is domestically and internationally. However, it also would have meant spoiling the episode and, more important, damaging key relationships I’ve worked hard to build. At some point, publishing the news of Dempsey’s exit before the episode aired became an ethical question of what was more important—a big story and its subsequent traffic, which would have come no matter what, or the relationships and trust that it took years to craft. Ultimately, I still published early because EW subscribers received the issue with Lynette’s Dempsey interview before the episode aired.

Mike McColl The morning after Derek’s last episode aired, my daughter sent me a link that was on YouTube or Facebook or something. I actually pulled it up to look at it, and it was a Grey’s Anatomy showbiz cheat sheet. It asked the question “Who is the attending doctor who killed Derek ‘McDreamy’ Shepherd?” It included a photo that I posted from the set. I had on a bloody rubber glove and was in my scrubs and mask. I never obviously would have posted this before it aired. I posted it well after the episode aired, and I [captioned it] “McDeadly.” This writer said something like, “Kill McDeadly.” Maybe that’s why the producer didn’t choose a big-name actor to be the one who killed our beloved McDreamy! I want to be ultrasensitive to these hard-core fans because it means so much to them, and I certainly didn’t mean in that case to make light of it. It’s just, I’m an actor, and I recognize it for what it is. Is everybody clear on the fact that this is just pretend and Patrick knew he was going to be leaving the show? It was just like, “God. He’s okay. He really is okay.”

Peter Horton Derek was going to be there forever with Meredith because you went through a whole journey with them. That was incredibly fulfilling. So even if he’s not there, he’s there. I don’t think any of us really worried about that going away because by then you were so invested in it. The show can last as it has for years.

Patrick Dempsey Lots of people [miss him]. “It’s good to see you alive” is the comment I get. I’m like, “Yes, I’m very much alive in reruns.” People were really invested in that relationship. I knew it would be heavy. Very happy to have moved on with a different chapter in my life.

Samantha Sloyan The montage just killed me, when Meredith says, “It’s okay, you can go.” God, I’m getting choked up just thinking about it. The chemistry they have as a pair and the way they were able to build that and sustain it! So many of these relationships are, like, “Will they, won’t they,” and then it wears thin. They sustained it for the duration of their relationship on the show, and it’s just, I think, a testament to what those two created. It was just unbelievable.

Pompeo addressed Dempsey’s departure with a tweet that focused solely on his character, not on how she spent eleven years working side by side with him: “There are so many people out there who have suffered tremendous loss and tragedy. Husbands and wives of soldiers, victims of senseless violence, and parents who have lost children. People who get up every day and do what feels like is the impossible. So it is for these people and in the spirit of resilance [sic] I am honored and excited to tell the story of how Meredith goes on in the face of what feels like the impossible.” Meanwhile, fans futilely created a Change.org petition to reinstate McDempsey, while other, more desperate ones simply tweeted “We Hate You” to Rhimes.

Shonda Rhimes Derek Shepherd is and will always be an incredibly important character—for Meredith, for me, and for the fans. I absolutely never imagined saying goodbye to our McDreamy. Patrick Dempsey’s performance shaped Derek in a way that I know we both hope became a meaningful example— happy, sad, romantic, painful, and always true—of what young women should demand from modern love. His loss will be felt by all.

Talk about the mother (father?) of all postscripts: In November of 2020 Dempsey reprised his role as McDreamy in the season opener—but only in Meredith’s dreams. Stricken with COVID-19, an unconscious Meredith “imagined” reuniting with her husband on the beach. After talking exclusively to Deadline and saying how it was “really a very healing process, and really rewarding,” Dempsey would return for more beach-based episodes that would ultimately stand out as the best moments of season seventeen. “It was a second chance thing,” one ABC executive told me at the time. “Shonda likes a comeback. Also, they wanted him in their last season.”

[terubakudan]

This may be an old article from 3 years ago, but these cultural aspects/observations still apply even today. And though this is strictly a Chinese perspective, a lot of these everyday life bits are observed in Overseas Chinese communities in countries such as The Philippines, Malaysia, Indonesia, etc. as well as countries heavily influenced by Chinese culture like Taiwan, Japan, and Korea.

I've always liked learning about other cultures and making comparisons between how things are done East vs West. Which probably stems from growing up with two cultures and Mom raising me on American movies xD

So the irony is if you asked me how many Chinese, Taiwanese, or Hong Kong actors I know, chances are I know as much as you do xD Like Jackie Chan, Andy Lau, and that's about it. But if you asked me about Western (specifically American and British) actors, then I have a useless brain dump of movie trivia and who was with who in what movie xD

Hmmm, both Taiwan and the Philippines are two distinct cultures but both look up to a certain country and are fascinated by that. In Taiwan's case, Japan and the US for the Philippines. In both cases, this is due to being under the rule of those countries in their history. Taiwan being under Japan for 50 years, and the Philippines being under Spain for 300+ years, followed by periods of American and Japanese rule. To put it simply though:

Taiwan is "mini-Japan with a very Chinese culture".

The Philippines is "former colony of Spain with lots of American influences".

But unlike the author, I've never set foot in any Western country, so my understandings are strictly what I've observed in media, which while it can be accurate, doesn't compare to actually experiencing the culture.

Some further elaboration on most points:

#1 We quite literally use chopsticks for everything. We use it to pick rice, viands, vegetables, fruit, smaller desserts, almost all the food you can think of.

But where do you put your chopsticks when you're not using them? Just put them on top of your bowl or flat on your plate. But do not ever stick them vertically. It's taboo, since it looks like incense sticks, which we use to pray for those who have passed, like our ancestors or during funerary services.

#3 The majority of Asia is obsessed with fair/white skin. In my time at the Philippines, I grew up watching all these Dove Whitening commercials and my classmates often commented on how fair my skin was, how they envied it etc. In Taiwan, girls often say they don't want to 變黑 (biàn hēi) 'become dark'. Japan and Korea too are not innocent of this either (if their beauty/skin products weren't a dead giveaway).

People here at Taiwan often mistake me for being from Hong Kong or Japan (as long as I don't speak Mandarin with my heavy accent xD). A Taiwanese classmate of mine joked that she often gets mistaken for being from Southeast Asia due to having a darker complexion. And while I laughed it off with her at that time, looking back, I now realize she was lowkey being racist. xD

And believe me Filipinas have mentioned literally being told 'your skin is so dark' here in Taiwan, or being given backhanded compliments like 'you're pretty despite having dark skin' and...*facepalms*

My point is, beauty is not exclusive to skin color. People who still think that are assholes.

#5 Not to say we don't have salt and pepper, but yes soy sauce and vinegar are the classic condiments you see on the table, be it at home or at a restaurant.

And if I may add, Taiwanese love their pepper. xD If you ever get to eat at a night market or a smaller "Mom n' Pop-style" restaurant here, some dishes/soups tend to add quite an excessive amount of pepper. Not like anthills, but quite liberally and way more than average. Enough that you see traces of pepper at the bottom of the food paper bag or swirling in your soup. xD

#6 I know this all too well from personal experience. In my years of studying at Taiwan, I always had roommates. 3 in my first school (I graduated high school in the Philippines pre K-12 so I had to make up 2 years of Senior High), followed by 2 in college, with the exception of 1 in freshman year.

My college did offer single person dorms but at around 9000 NTD ($324) per month compared to around 6000 NTD ($216) per semester. Because I wanted to save, the choice was obvious for me xD. But ah, this doesn't mean I don't value personal space, in fact I love having the room to myself, and since both my roomies would go home to their families every weekend, weekends were bliss for me xD

And you don't have to be friends with your roommates (that's an added bonus however), you just have to get along with them. I was quite lucky to have really great roommates all throughout my schooling years.

#9 In the Philippines, we do. Owing mostly to American influences and maybe being predominantly Catholic? xD

#10 *sigh* Chinese parents and parents from similar Asian cultures tend to put too much emphasis on grades, so much that kids could get sent to cram school as early as elementary. This is because what school you get into could literally affect your future job opportunities, and while that's not exclusive to any particular country/culture, I feel it's especially pronounced here in Asia. I'm really lucky my own parents weren't that strict about it. However, if your parents don't point the mistakes out to you, chances are you'll do it yourself, if you're an Asian kid like me anyway. xD It just becomes a habit.

#11 My family is an exception to this. xD We do say 'I love you' directly, but complete with the 'ah eat well ok?', 'don't scrimp on food', 'sleep well' and similar indirect words/actions of affection. We were doing 'Conceal, Don't Feel' before it became popular. xD

#13 I'm kind of confused about this but this has sort have changed over the years in which eye-contact is now more encouraged. But don't stare, especially at elders and authority figures. Sometimes it's just shyness though. xD And I've observed this with my own Taiwanese friend, especially when I'm complaining or ranting to her about something. xD I'm a person who likes to express my opinions strongly, which tends to scare/alienate some of the locals here, as doing so is kind of frowned upon. Thankfully, she does listen and offers her take on things.

#14 Ah this. xD In the Philippines, this is a common greeting known as beso-beso, and I freaked out too when an auntie did that to me. xD Needless to say, Mom lectured me later on what that was. ^^"

#16 Along with #3 another crazy beauty standard. In my view, people always look better with a little meat on them and when they're not horribly thin. Asia still has a loonng way to go with accepting different types of bodies if you ask me. This combined with modern beauty standards has made the pressure for women especially to 'look beautiful' higher than ever.

I know many people love them but please, starving yourself or glorifying eating disorders is never OK just to get this kind of 'ideal' body. I'm not part of the Kpop fandom, but even I think when idols get bullied just for gaining the least bit of weight among other insensitive comments, that's really going too far.

#17 'If you want to make friends, go eat.' <- I couldn't agree more. In the Philippines we have a greeting: 'Kumain ka na ba?' (Have you eaten?) . Similarly in Taiwan, we have 吃飯了沒? (chī fàn le méi), both of these can mean that in the literal sense but are often used as greetings instead. By then which invitation to having lunch/dinner together may or may not follow. Food really is a way for us to socialize and to catch up with what's going on in each other's lives. Not to say we don't have regular outings like going out to the mall, going shopping, etc. but eating together is a huge part of our culture, be it with family or friends.

And while I'm at it, some memes that are way too accurate good to pass up xD

Parents, uncles, aunties alike will fight over the bill xD

Alternatively:

You just space out until your name is called xD

My parents are guilty of the last one. Logic how? xD

#18 True. xD I like giving compliments out to people but I have a hard time accepting them myself, though I've learnt how to accept them much more now than before. We're kind of raised to constantly downplay ourselves so we often say things like 'ah no no' or 'I'm really not that good'. The downside of this of course is that it can come off as somewhat fake. xD

Again from personal experience, that same classmate who made the lowkey racist remark, she was good, she was on the debate team, was a honor student, knew how to mingle with people, but she downplayed herself way too much, while praising me but I honestly thought that she never really meant it from how she treated me. She wanted to keep me around her yet make backhanded compliments at me and she didn't want me socializing with my other classmate who is now my friend. *sigh* It was only after discussing this with one of my roomies did I realize how this 'excessive downplaying' might come off to people like me who more or less grew up with a more 'Westernized' mindset. I'm not saying brag about your achievements but don't be overly humble about them either, which can also be a turn off.

#20 We do tend to be a lot more realistic on how we view things, neither entirely optimistic nor pessimistic. We try to think of things practically and often analyze things on pure logic. A downside of this however, is that Chinese people can be overly practical. Taiwanese for instance don't like to 'find inconveniences' and generally keep to themselves, meaning, they won't help you in your hour of need even when they do have the capabilities. Sounds really harsh I know, but in my 6 years of living in Taiwan, while this doesn't apply to all the people, a lot of them really do only find/talk to you when they need something.

So for some people saying Taiwanese are 'friendly', that's BS xD If you ask me, Filipinos are infinitely more friendly, and again while not all, generally make more of an effort to help you when you need it. I really felt more of a real sense of community during my years growing up in the Philippines compared to Taiwan.

#21 Children do tend to stay with their parents well into college and adulthood, since Chinese families are indeed very family-oriented, in a lot of cases, grandparents often live under the same roof as us as well! And it really does save a lot of money. I see there's a real stigma in the US when it comes to "living with your parents", but that's starting to change especially because of Covid and having more and more people move back in with their parents.

Housing unfortunately is pretty much hella expensive no matter where you go, and Taiwan is no exception. Steep housing prices and the very high cost of raising a child (schooling + buxiban fees, etc.) contribute to a very low birth rate and thus an aging population like Japan. It's not uncommon to see both parents working in Taiwan.

#23 I'm an overthinker myself, but I totally agree with the author that the best is to strike a good balance between these two. Which I guess is why I love drawing or any other related creative attempts, it helps me be more spontaneous or well, creative! I like to remain intellectually or artistically inspired.

#24 Is French high school really like that? xD My friend did watch SKAM France and more or less got a culture shock from what was depicted on the show. I can confirm however that most high schools both in the Philippines and Taiwan require students to wear a uniform, only in college is everybody free to wear casual/civilian clothes.

#26 Ah this is part of our Asian gift-giving etiquette xD We always open gifts later after the event/meeting and in private. Never open them in front of the person who gave it to you or in front of others. This is to prevent any 'shame/embarrassment' that may result both to yourself and to the gift giver. I know this may come off as something weird since some people may want a more honest response or immediate feedback when it comes to gift-giving, but that's just how it is in our culture. You're always free to ask us though (in private) if we liked the gift or not ^^"

#28 I want to say the same goes to drinking, partying, and drugs however xD Those are things which are still frowned upon in our culture. And to be honest, whenever I see those in movies, it does kind of turn me off xD It doesn't mean that we're "uncool" or "boring", we just think that there are much better or healthier ways of "having fun".

#31 Is this true in France?! Man I would kind of prefer that instead of people being on their phones all the time xD This kind of goes with #20 in that Chinese are overly practical or logical, and don't read fiction as much as nonfiction. My Taiwanese friend is an exception though, she's a bibliophile who loves the feel of paper books compared to e-books, and it's a trait of her that I like a lot. Both the Philippines and Taiwan however have a huge fanbase when it comes to manga and anime though.

I'm all for reading outside of "designated reading" at schools especially. Reading fiction improves your vocabulary too, and can be quite fun! It helps you imagine and really invest in a world/story, and if you ask me something that I feel Westerners are better at, they're more in touch with their emotions and creativity, and are thus much more able to write compelling or original stories. Believe me, I've seen a fair amount of Chinese movies that rip off Western movie plotlines xD

#33 Nothing much to add on here..except that since I'm a "weird" person, Mom often jokes that she got the wrong baby from the hospital. xD

#35 True. While I agree with the care and concern that your fellow community can give you, the downside of this is we tend to only hang out with our own people, e.g Chinese with Chinese, Taiwanese with Taiwanese, etc. I've seen too that it's especially hard to make friends in Japan and Korea as a foreigner. Not only is there the language barrier, but the differences in culture too. In a way, Asians can be pretty close-minded on getting to know other cultures or actually making friends with people from other countries. I know this all too well being half-Taiwanese/half-Filipino, being neither "Filipino" enough nor "Taiwanese" enough. xD It's more of people here being too used to what they're comfortable with.

#36 Oh this is something I feel that Chinese students and other students from similar cultures should really improve on. xD How will people respect you if you don't speak your mind?

I felt bad especially for my Spanish teacher in college, granted it was an introductory course (Spanish I and II) but the amount of times that our teacher had to prompt a student to recite/speak even with clear hints already made her (and me too) extremely frustrated. The thing is, these are college students, I personally feel they don't have any reason to be so shy of speaking and technically by not doing so they're slowing the pace of the class too much and a lot of time is wasted.

Unfortunately you can't always be very vocal with your thoughts and opinions in most Asian cultures. I would say strive for that, but at the same time, play your cards well, especially if you're in a workplace setting.

If you made it to the end, thank you for reading and here's a cookie! 🍪 I'm not perfect and there's bound to be something I missed so please let me know if you spotted anything wrong. Feedback/questions are very much welcome and please feel free to share about your country/culture's differences or similarities!

[knickynoo]

i get why they couldn’t, but i’ve always kinda wished we could see more of Dave and Linda McFly with Marty. i’m a sucker for sibling bonds! do you have any headcanons about the McFly siblings and their relationship? Maybe after Marty returns from 1885 since that has the ‘final’ versions of the characters, but I’ll take whatever you feel like talking about! i always felt like Marty would quickly get used to his Lone Pine sibs and be close with them, but I’m also a sap 🤷‍♀️

Still working my way through older asks. Sorry if you've been waiting for me to get to this, anon.

I'm also a sucker for sibling bonds, so I would've loved to have gotten some Dave/Linda/Marty scenes. And I feel like Marty is actually pretty close to both of them considering he has a photo of himself and his siblings not only in his wallet, but pinned to the wall above his bed. I mean, what 17 year old boy does that unless he really loves his brother and sister?? Here are some headcanons. (Some fit into both timelines because I can imagine them happening in both, and others are specific to a certain one)

Dave and Marty got into a lot of trouble together as kids. Being almost 5 years older than Marty, Dave was usually the ringleader, and he'd orchestrate lots of games, "secret missions", & general tomfoolery. Marty loved being able to tag along and hang out with his big brother, except for the fact that Dave would ditch him at the first sign of danger or if they were about to get caught. Marty, of course, would go and tattle to the nearest adult and they'd both be punished. Neither of them learned anything, though. Marty continued to let himself be dragged into mischief and Dave continued to run away and leave his little brother to take the heat.

Like a lot of older sisters, Linda was often annoyed by her younger brother, but she did make a point to look out for him. Whenever Dave and Marty got into a squabble, she'd usually side with Marty. And when Marty would come home upset over something at school or crying because someone picked on him, Linda was quick to comfort him.

When they were younger, Linda once lost Marty in a very crowded store at the mall after being put in charge of him while their mom was in the fitting room. After a frantic and unsuccessful search, she ended up having to ask an employee for help. The message over the speaker system announcing that a little boy named Marty was missing brought their mother out of the dressing room SO QUICKLY.

Dave, Linda, and Marty all tried to have a "camp out" in their backyard when they were kids. They set up a tent, got their sleeping bags, and made snacks. Linda was not particularly thrilled at the idea, but her brothers begged and complained until she agreed to join them. It was all very fun...until it got dark. There were so many spooky sounds outside, and their parents were so far away in the house. Dave, who was about 11, was actually the first to bail, claiming sleeping outside was a dumb idea anyway. Marty was greatly amused that his own big brother was such a scaredy cat. He decided to show just how brave he was by telling Linda some scary stories and joking around that the strange sounds in their yard were actually monsters. Unfortunately, Marty's scary stories were so good that he scared himself and ended up running back into the house as well. Linda continued to hang out in the tent until she got bored, and then she went inside too.

In the original timeline, Linda's protective nature over Marty extended to those moments when their mother's drinking put her in a particularly bad mood. Knowing that Marty would likely be the one to be on the receiving end of their mother's criticism or anger, Linda would go out of her way to suggest to Marty that he get out of the house for a little. Though the exchange would always be uncomfortable, Marty was thankful for the heads up. Eventually, he'd get the message just by Linda giving him a certain look, and he'd go out to the arcade, on a walk, or (when he got older) to Doc's.

Updated timeline: Dave and Linda are very supportive of Marty's music. When Marty gets back from 1885, he's surprised to discover that he apparently uses his siblings as his test audience for his new songs and gets their opinions.

UT: Linda's job at the boutique and general interest in fashion causes her to often give her own advice on Marty's wardrobe. It isn't uncommon for her to point out if a certain combination doesn't work or if colors don't go well, and she'll offer to help him fix it. Marty usually rolls his eyes in annoyance, unless he has a date with Jen; then he'll let his sister pick out something else.

After turning down the offer from Dave multiple times, Marty relents and goes with Dave to his office one day. Dave is excited to be able to show his brother what he does, and Marty is...less than enthused. But he slaps a smile on his face and tries to be interested and see it as a valuable learning experience. And the thing Marty learns is: he will never work in an office because he'll die of boredom.

That's about all I've got for now! I had fun coming up with these headcanons; there isn't enough McFly sibling content. Thanks for the ask!

[theboyzuniverse]

Finding Love (Part 1)

POV: You're part of a co-ed K-pop group called Boyz and Girlz aka BGZ, which consists of 11 boys and 3 girls. The 3 girls are Hyeri (97 liner), Eli (98 liner), and Y/N, maknae of the whole group. The girls dorm is a small apartment slightly apart from the boys for privacy, but it is connected to the boys dorm by a common living room, and there's also a shared kitchen to promote good team-work.

The whole dorm was quiet when you got home from your morning walk with Sunwoo and Eric. Haknyeon was in the kitchen half eating, half asleep. Everyone else was probably at the gym. It was a free day for you guys but no one ever really slept in on off days except for Eric who you had forced to wake up, that boy is one hell of a heavy sleeper.

"I'm gonna go back to sleep," Eric muttered.

"Ew, take a shower first." You told him, "And don't fall asleep in there."

"No promises."

You head back to your room to wash up, then headed back to get something to eat. Haknyeon was face-down on the table when you went to the kitchen, you gently wake him up to tell him to head back to his room. He complies easily and you giggle at the way he walks like a zombie.

"I'm gonna play some games today, wanna join?" Sunwoo asked.

"Maybe later, I wanted to do a V-Live today."

Sunwoo and Eric were your bestfriends, you were in the same class and went to the same school before you all graduated together. It was because of them that you didn't have much girlfriends, because you always hung out with either them or their guy friends.

"I'm home!" You heard Juyeon shout as he slammed the door.

"No one cares!" Sunwoo shouted back as he headed back to his room with two juice pouches.

"Wanna do a live with me?" You asked Juyeon as he comes into the kitchen.

"Sure," He replied immediately.

Your oppas and unnies rarely said no to you, and you had to admit you were a brat sometimes but they loved you anyway. You loved them just the same.

"Where is everybody?" He asked you surprised at the quietness of the dorm.

"I don't know, probably at the gym. Sunwoo's playing games, and Eric and Haknyeon are sleeping."

"So everything's still the same."

"You were gone for a week oppa, not a whole year."

He smiled that little smile that the fans loved so much. It really did make him look like a little cat boy, well not so little. Juyeon had gone home for a week for his cousin's marriage, and you had to admit that even though it was just a week as you mentioned, you had really missed him. Juyeon was the type of person who paid attention to the people around him, he adored all of you and always showed it even though he himself might not be aware.

"I'll go wash up, come when you wanna do it."

"Aren't you hungry?"

"I'll just order some food later."

"Order for me too."

"I thought you already ate."

"Yeah, but I wanna eat again. Chicken okay?"

He laughed, "Okay, aegi."

It was a nickname that Sunwoo had started for you because you were the maknae, regardless of the fact that he was only a few months older than you. They all babied you so you couldn't help feeling like their baby sometimes.

The members all arrived home as you were about to head to Juyeon's room for the live, and the chaos that ensues when all the members were home immediately started. Chanhee and Changmin were bickering about which one of them was supposed to buy milk while Sunwoo was shouting at Kevin in the room not to disturb him, Kevin was also a brat sometimes.

"Y/N, is Juyeon home?" Hyeri asked you amidst the chaos.

"Yeah, we're gonna do a live."

"Okay, you guys can have this."

She hands you two big slices of cake. Apparently they all went shopping for food after going to the gym. You stand there, plate in your hand, confused.

"What's this for?" You asked, they rarely bought cake unless it was for someone's birthday.

"Just a special treat, no reason." Sangyeon answered.

"Okay," You shrugged as you head to Juyeon's room. "They're so loud, but I can't even complain."

Juyeon laughs at you knowing what you mean. You were one of the noisiest members so you couldn't even really complain about the chaos. However, there were times you wished for some peace.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

He starts the live and the viewers tune in little by little. You could see a lot of ship comments but of course you had to pretend not to see some of them. Shippers were inevitable, especially being a co-ed group. All of you were constantly paired together, but you had noticed lately how many comments there were about you and Juyeon.

"Everyone, should we do a question and answer round today?"

Juyeon and you took turns to read and answer questions. Most of them were about new songs or our current favourite dramas or songs, and even asking you to sing. Then there were the ones asking about other members, and then the shippers, the ones who made you most nervous. Juyeon had always been surprisingly good at handling these, he was natural. The things he's good at he was really good, but if there's something he was bad at, the boy was utter chaos.

"Pose for screenshots," You read a comment that had popped up several times.

Juyeon immediately leaned over to do a heart with you, and you complied. You did little winks and acted cute, of course the fans loved that and it made Juyeon smile, which warmed your heart. If it was any other member they would've playfully cringed at you but Juyeon was just too sweet.

You end the live after about an hour, now a little hungry so you both order some chicken and coke. You lie down on his bed as he pulls you into a tight hug that had you gasping for air. The whole group was pretty cuddly and free with skinship, but Juyeon had these moments where he would just pull someone into a tight bear hug and wouldn't let go until the latter struggled hard against him. He really enjoyed it and the boy was strong so it was close to impossible to break away sometimes.

"Oppa!" You whine as he tightened the hug around you.

He smiles cheekily as you struggled to pull out. Hyunjae comes in to see your struggle.

"Ah not again," He says as he slaps Juyeon's butt.

"Hyung!"

"What?"

"This is fun."

"Yah!"

You protest as they both laugh at you struggling and he finally lets you go.

"Ah so annoying," You mutter as they both smile at you.

"Your chicken is here, we're not paying!" Kevin calls out to you.

"Let me eat too." Hyunjae immediately says as he hears the words chicken.

"Pay for half." You retort back.

"What? That's not fair."

"Yes it is, because you'll probably eat half for yourself." Juyeon replies as he comes in with the chicken.

Hyunjae just laughs not bothering to deny it.

"Eat up aegi, you have to grow more." Juyeon teases you.

In addition to being the youngest, you were also the smallest and shortest. You weren't that short though, the rest of your other members were just too tall, that included Hyeri and Eli who were taller than the average female K-pop idol.

"I always eat well."

Hyunjae cleans up in exchange for not paying, but you let it go since neither you and Juyeon now felt like moving. You both lay down on his bed looking up at the wall, then he takes your hand. Your heart skips a beat catching you off-guard.

Its not like you haven't held hands before, you did it all the time with him and all the other members too and never felt any different. Maybe its just because we're being close and intimate like this, you try to reason with yourself. You almost stop breathing when Juyeon suddenly turns his head to look at you.

"You feel that too don't you?" He asks as he clasps his fingers with yours.

Your heart starts beating faster as he waits for you to answer. Your thoughts are all jumbled up as you stare back at him, your eyes widening and blinking a few times, flustered.

"If you look at me like that I can't think," You finally tell him.

He lays his head back down on the pillow, one hand behind his head and closing his eyes. He holds your hand with your palm against his face as he lets out a sigh.

"I've been feeling it for a while." He tells you. "I confirmed it when I went home, I missed you so much."

You stay quiet at his confession, still in shock. You tried to process everything all at once but it was impossible. The two of you stay like that in silence for a while, the sound of Juyeon slowly breathing in and out helped you calm down. After some time, you muster up enough courage to get up and rest yourself on his chest, and he opens his eyes.

"I think I like you too," You barely manage to whisper.

He gives you a soft smile as he tucks your hair behind your ear, and caresses your cheeks. You put your hand over his hand as you look into his eyes. The same feeling of warmth spread all over you as it always did when you looked at him smile.

How did you not notice it before, this kind of warmth wasn't something you felt with the other members. It was exclusively a feeling associated with Juyeon. He was always there for you, especially during the time when Hwall, a close friend, had to leave the group. You remembered how hard it was for you when he decided to leave due to his injuries, those sleepless nights you spent in front of the T.V. trying to accept reality. Times when even Sunwoo and Eric were at a loss for words, it was always Juyeon who stayed right beside you and lent you a shoulder to cry on.

"Y/N," The door opens then quickly closes with Hyeri exclaiming, "Oh sh*t sorry-"

You both quickly sit up on the bed as she closes the door and disappears, she probably thought you were kissing or something. The atmosphere was tense as you sheepishly turn to look at Juyeon who was running his hand through his hair in slight confusion. As he sees you looking at him he gives you his signature smile, assuring you that you had nothing to be worried about.

Kinda lame and unrealistic cause it was something that suddenly popped into my head but oh well, a girl can dream right?

Thank you for taking time to read it. <3