#I met one girl while working after college but she’s consistently copying and one upping me and it’s really uncomfortable ngl

[staycoolbutstillcare]

I’m not gonna lie to you guys, I officially don’t know how anyone makes good friends as an adult. I’ve been going to different “social events” around me for months (maybe over a year) now, I will meet another mom, we’ll really hit it off talking and we’ll exchange numbers. And it usually goes:

1. They’ll text back a handful of times and then completely ghost me

2. We’ll make plans a few times and they will consistently cancel the day of with VERY arbitrary excuses

3. We will hang out and in a one on one setting they are the most negative person you’ve ever met in your life

I legitimately don’t know what else to do. I suppose it probably is all just trial and error but I think most people I meet either have a sister they’re close with so they don’t need me or they have childhood friends they’re still friends with. I feel like a reject in a society where everyone that’s pleasant to be around already has their people. Obviously my husband is great but sometimes you just wanna hang out with another mom and talk about life and get coffee and love their kids like your own.

[machetegirl109]

Synopsis: After spending the whole Bible study daydreaming of Abby, she finally makes your fantasies come true. *inspiration: vacation bible school by ayesha erotica*

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, F/F, modern!AU, suggestive and offensive language, religion, abby&reader are 18, smut, angst, switch!abby&reader, dom!abby, sub!reader, thigh riding, fingering(r&a!receiving), oral(a!receiving), no aftercare, mean!abby x reader

important info about my stories here

©machetegirl109 (credits to VBS by ayesha erotica that inspired me to write this) DO NOT copy/steal my work OR post it on any platforms

Word Count: 2.6k+

Oneshot: Vacation Bible School

❝︎and like every other shitty love story

you came and went❞︎

Church camp happens every year during the summer. It lasts for a week; during this time, you live together in cabins, explore the outdoors, and dine in community, all while learning about religion.

You’ve been taking part in attending ever since you were a little kid. The campgrounds are filled with kids, teens, and young adults. The VBS director would be supervising the assisting staff that consisted of other members of the Christian church, where they were divided into group leaders, an audio/video coordinator, music director, Bible story tellers, game leaders, craft supervisors, and kitchen staff.

This year would be the last summer camp trip for you and the other 18 year-olds before you all start college.

Every year you’d be eager for the summertime, wanting nothing more than to arrive at the huge campsite with lots of green space, bushes and trees, picnic tables and a bonfire. Paths that led to the big main cabin where indoor activities and supper were held, another that led to multiple smaller cabins scattered around a secluded area with some portable wooden toilets by the end of the trail and finally a path that led to the forest where a beautiful river was at as well as a hiking trail.

Although you did enjoy being surrounded by the calming nature and your fellow church peers, what made you anxiously wait for the one week vacation every year was her. Abby Anderson. You two met years ago when you were kids, having to spend the days around each other as you two learned about Jesus and his rules. You and the blonde girl quickly became friends; however you never spoke to each other outside the camping grounds. In day-to-day life, you would only admire her from a distance. Whether it was on the Sunday evening services, or at the school; you paid attention to Abby’s movement as she kneeled to pray, or when she talked to those around her.

Something about her made your hands shake with nervousness, your heart skipped beats just by the thought of her so, so pretty eyes and her strong arms—

“What do you say, miss Y/N?” The pastor interrupts your thoughts and you move your eyes from Abby who’s sitting in front of you to his direction.

“I’m sorry, pastor. What was the question again?”

“What is the message in Ephesians 5:3?” He asks again and your peers, who are seated in a chair circle as the pastor stands in the middle, turn their heads towards you as they all wait for an answer.

“Uh, I… I don’t know…I’m sorry.” You shamefully look at your hands down on lap.

“That is okay, Y/N. We are all here to learn, isn't that right kids?” They all move their heads up and down, agreeing with the pastor. “Can anyone tell me what is the message in Ephesians 5:3?”

“I can.” One of the students complied.

“Yes, Abigail. Go ahead.” As soon as he calls out her name, your head shots up and you’re looking at the girl in front of you again. She clears her throat and before she begins to speak, her eyes meet yours.

“But fornication, and all uncleanness, or covetousness, let it not be onced named among you, as becometh saints;” Abby concludes, her blue eyes never leaving yours. Soon, the priest thanks her for the answer, proceeding with his class and the blonde gives you a small smile. She manspreads on her chair and you feel the blood pump faster into your veins as your body grows hot.

Abby is wearing a white tank top that exposes her strong muscles, black skinny jeans with a heavy-looking belt as well as a pair of black chuck taylor’s. You can’t help but wonder how she would look on top of you, with her blonde hair forming a curtain around your head and her big hands roaming through your body.

After spending the rest of the Bible study distracted staring at the pretty blonde across from you, the class comes to an end. “Alright,kids, that will be all for today. Go ahead and enjoy your last day here and make sure to be ready to attend the bonfire tonight!” The priest leaves the open room located inside the main cabin and soon the students follow behind. Each leaving at their own pace as they conversate with their friends. You look around you and notice Abby is still seated in her chair, like you. She smirks before standing up, making her way to you.

“You seemed a bit distracted. Anything interesting in your mind?” Abby reaches her hand out for you to hold as you leave your chair.

“Oh, nothing, it’s stupid. “ You smile shyly and hold onto her, who soon drops your hand after helping you up. She hums in response as she licks her lips and points her head towards the door, hinting you to follow her as she begins to walk.

“Well, now I need to know what stupid thing you were possibly thinking about while you stared at me the whole study.” You hide your face in your palms, cringing at how you shamelessly looked at her during the class.

“Sorry…” You muffle through your hands before dropping them to your sides again. “I didn’t mean to stare.” Abby lets out a small laugh at your reaction, loving the way you get so shy around her. You two keep walking until you reach the path that led to the area where many small cabins were scattered around.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” She quickly scans the area around, checking to see if anyone can see or hear the two of you. “I think I already know what you were thinking about, though.” Her eyes drop to your plump lips and your throat goes dry.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You play dumb and Abby chuckles.

“Hm. I think we were both thinking about the same stupid things.” She raises her hand to your cheek, lightly massaging the pad of her thumb onto your soft skin and then pushing it down to your bottom lip. You feel as if your heart dropped to your core as heat and pulse grows inside your panties. Her hand teasingly grips your neck before she drops it and takes one of your hands into hers, guiding two walk towards the portable wood toilets by the end of the trail.

She looks around once again, checking for people and opens the door as she rushly gets in, pulling you with her and shutting the door closed. Your back presses into the wood as one of her hands pushes you against the wall by the neck. Abby’s blue eyes turned a shade darker, desired in them as she placed her knee between your legs, earning a small moan from you.

“You’ve been watching me the whole week,” She says as her free hand creeps under the hem of your shirt, fingers lightly tingling the skin of your stomach. “But I’ve been watching you too.” She palms your left breast harshly, flicking her calloused finger on your nipple and you feel yourself getting wetter by the second. “You know the expression you make when you stare at me?”

You stay silent and her grip around your neck tightens.

“When I ask something, you answer.” Abby says softly and removes her hand from your chest, sliding it down to the side of your hips, carving her short nails into your skin as she moves you to grind against her hard thigh; making you bite your lips as you feel your clothed cunt rub deliciously against the material of her jeans. “Answer me, Y/N.”

“I-I don’t know, Abby…”

“You stare at me with this really pathetic expression on your face,” The lights inside the small compartment die down suddenly before turning back on – And as you look at Abby again, a shit-eating grin appear on her pretty lips.

“The expression of someone who just really wants me to fuck them stupid.” You snake your arms around her neck and she lets go of yours, now hugging your waist as she guides your movements. “Do you want me to fuck you stupid?” Abby whispers in your ear with a rough voice.

“Yes-Yes, Abby. Ple-please.” You ask as you hide your face onto her neck, her pinewood scent filling your nostrils and you moan into her skin. Your hot breath hits against her neck and Abby feels your arousal mark a spot on her pants. A soft blush runs over her soft freckled face and her boxers start to feel heavy by her own wetness.

“Please what, angel?”

“Ple-please fuck me, Abby.” You remove your head from its previous position and forcefully grabs the back of her hair, pulling her face towards yours as your lips smack together. Abby bites and pulls onto your bottom lip and soon her tongue sneaks into your mouth, making the kiss become more heated and sloppy. She hugs your waist tighter. “I want you,” You say in between the kisses. “Jus-just fuck me already, ple-please.”

Abby lets out a moan by hearing your pleas and holds your hips still as she lower her lips to your neck. She nibbles and licks at your skin and you let out heavy breaths and pleasure filled moans. She moves one of her hands to your exposed thigh due your skirt riding up, and she slowly slides it closer and closer to your heat as she caresses your hot skin. Soon enough she cups your pussy through your dripping wet panties, the feeling of her warm hand sends a wave of electricity through your body and you moan her name out.

“I've been wanting to do this all week,” Abby confesses. She slowly drags your panties to the side and runs two fingers up your slick, collecting the liquid of your excitement. “Fuck… You’re so fucking wet for me. So ready for me, baby.” She gives you a quick and soft peck on the lips and suddenly thrusts her ring and middle finger inside your weeping cunt.

“Ah ah ah Abby!” You moan as you feel her fingers filling you. Abby begins to move her fingers in-and-out of you, starting off slow and soon she picks up the pace, pumping them fast and with precision inside you. You rock your hips, following her fingers' pace, causing your clit to deliciously and harshly rub against the palm of her hand. “Fuck Abby,,, you're–ahh fucking me so good…”

Abby lets out a quiet laugh and leans in for another messy kiss, saliva dripping off of both your chins as you make out. She soon fingers into you deeper than before, the tip of her fingers meeting that spongy spot inside you. She presses onto it and you rub your clit harder into her palm. You break the kiss, lips swollen for the biting and sucking.

“I'm gon-gonna cum,”

“I'm here, angel. Cum for me, baby.” Soon something inside you snaps and you feel your body shake as a pleasure washes over you.

“Such a good fucking girl, making a mess all over my hand.” Abby helps you ride out your high, her hand and leg drenched from you as she carefully removes her fingers from your sensitive cunt, letting out a hiccup once you feel empty again. You attempt to catch your breath, chest rising up and down rapidly as you both look at eachother. You hold her hand towards your mouth, cleaning her sticky fingers from your orgasm and she opens a small smile.

“You're so hot,” Abby says giving you one more kiss before removing her leg from in between yours.”So fuckin’ dirty for me.” You kiss her back, pulling at her bottom lip and asking for tongue passage which she happily obliged to. Pushing Abby against the wall, your hands fall to her hips, undoing her white studded belt and letting it fall to the ground. “You're gonna make me feel good, Angel?” She smirks upon seeing a naughty look on your face and you nod.

“Yeah, Abby, I'll make you feel so good…” You kiss her lips and neck one last time before you move towards her breasts and stomach. When you reach her crotch, you shamelessly rub your face against it, causing her to gasp and moan as she forces you onto the floor by your shoulders.

Abby helps you unbutton her pants and you bring them down along with her boxers as you kneel in front of her, the smell of her pussy makes your mouth water. She frees one of her ankles from the clothes, propping her leg over your shoulder and you snake your arm around her tight to keep her secure. She looks down at you, looking like a pretty and desperate little slut just for her. One of her hands goes to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to her glistening lips. You lay your tongue out and you slowly lick her slick bottom to top, reaching her throbbing bud and giving it a harsh suck.

“Uhmm, fuck,” She moans upon the contact, pushing her hips closer to you mouth. “Yeah, just like that, baby.” You finally bury your tongue into her cunt, exploring her as she lets out a string of breathless moans. Abby begins to grind against your face, your soft muscle lapping on her mouthwatering pussy and your nose softly and deliciously brushing against her clit. “Look at me,” She pats your head and you bring your eyes up to her but never stopping fucking your tongue into her. “Lookin’ so beautiful on your knees for me, ahh– s-so so fucking perfect,”

Abby soon feels the tension that sits on the bottom of her stomach is about to explode. Her moves become more messy and rapid as she chases your face. The leg that is up your shoulder starts to shake, the trembling of her body making her to hold onto your free shoulder for support. You notice Abby will soon break and change the focus of your thrust to her needy button, lick and circling your tongue on it and adding two fingers into her.

“D-don't stop, fuckfuckfuc–” Her hips stutter as you scissor your fingers into her, never stopping giving attention to her clit. You feel her pussy gushing around you and she soon releases her juices, making a mess on your hand and face. Abby breaks eye contact as she presses the back of her head onto the wooden wall. She closes her eyes and furrows her brows while coming down from her orgasm. You distance your mouth from her now sensitive clit and gently remove your fingers from her. She drops her leg off of your shoulder and you, still on your knees, move to help her fix her pants and belt.

“No, it’s okay,” Abby moves away from your touch, making you slowly stand back on your feet. “I can do it.” She pushes her black jeans back up and grabs her belt off the floor, quickly wrapping them around the waistband of her jeans. You quietly observe her, hopeful thoughts run around your head, thoughts about you and Abby becoming closer after today – The last day of camp. “So, uhh,” She nervously runs her hand through her blonde strands as her face displays a shameful and regretful expression.

“We should get going, th-the last bonfire will start soon…” You feel as if the ground disappeared, your heart squeezes inside your chest and tears form in your eyes. “Uhm… I'll see you around, yeah?” She quickly exits, leaving you alone in the compartment. You look down at your knees, red and swollen from all the kneeling, and then you look around the small porta wooden potty, your hand palms your face as you take in what just happened. Regret fills you for what you and Abby just did – In a damn porta potty, at church camp nonetheless – and at how easy you gave yourself to her, only to be tossed away just as easily.

ೃ⁀➷ thank you for reading! feel free to comment your thoughts, reblog, leave a heart and follow me˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

x-18 banner by @fic-dumpster

[yuta-nakamots]

perfect - z.cl

Pairing - Chenle x Fem!Reader

Genre - fluff, angst, university!au, friends to lovers!au

Warnings -  alcohol consumption, mention of drunkeness, lots of arguments, heavy making out, breakups, contains an aged up chenle (26-ish) towards the end

Summary - He’s definitely not your knight in shining armor, he may not be the one you bring home to mother, but he’ll be the one to give you flowers. Chenle is not the right one for you, but he is for right now.

Word Count - 5.2k

A/N - Bolded phrases are song lyrics taken from One Direction’s song ‘Perfect’ and inspired from the lyrics along with all the vlives where Chenle and the members have started yelling out the lyrics.This was supposed to come out back in January but school held it up and now Ana is gone hhhhh. I know she’s still on Tumblr but under a new url so if anyone wants to send this to her, to let her know that I did finish it, that would be nice. 

Taglist - @astroboy-lele​​​ @in-my-neofeelings​​​ || fill out this form if you’d like to join my general taglist ^^

Written for the Sometimes Letting Go… Collab originally hosted by @sunryu​ who unfortunately deactivated. 

When I first saw you from across the room, I could tell you were curious

The mutual attraction between you and Chenle was undeniable. Ever since the two of you first met as freshmen in an econ class, you knew he was your twin flame and he was yours. That initial meeting was almost comical, the way the professor said to pair up and talk to someone next to them for a bit and it seemed like everyone had turned away from you except for the boy sitting next to you.

It seems you both had the same realization as your heads turned and eyes met. “Well I guess you’re my friend for today,” he began, “hi, my name is Chenle. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Y/n,” you told him, “the pleasure is all mine.”

“So, why are you in this class?” He asked, tapping his pen on his leather-bound planner.

You hesitated for a second as you thought about how much to tell him. “I’m majoring in business and this was just one of the mandatory classes in my plan.”

“Hm, same here,” Chenle shared, seeming the slightest bit amused at your similarity, “would you also happen to be in calculus this semester?”

“Section 3 at 10:30?” You counter.

Chenle broke into a smile, “that’s the one.”

“How about freshman seminar?” You asked.

“1:15 in the world language building?” Chenle offered, copying your answer from before.

“Wow,” your eyebrows were raised in actual disbelief, “did you steal my schedule or something?”

“No, but I do believe in fate,” the boy next to you confessed, “would you like to get lunch sometime before freshmen seminar?”

You nodded, “I’d like that,” you stopped mid-sentence when you remembered that you told your friends you’d eat with them, “I am gonna be eating with my friends though so I could introduce you to them if you’d like.”

“Want to bet that we have the same friends too?”

“No way, that would be too coincidental.”

And coincidental it was. Somehow your friends knew some of Chenle’s friends whether it be from high school activities, childhood friends, or even having just met in their own classes. Your small group of five had immediately doubled in size.

Of course, with such a large group of friends, there was much fun to be had and many memories to be made. During midterms is when you were thankful you were majoring in business and not something like biology or chemistry. You could still go out and have fun on weekends with Chenle and the majority of your friends, meanwhile a few poor souls had to stay back to study their ‘reaction mechanisms’ or whatever the heck those things were called.

You quickly found that you weren’t one for parties though you loved to hang out with your friends and have small little parties of your own in the dorms. Every single time, as you all got progressively drunker and started to clock out for the night, it was always you and Chenle left being the two most sober with no other choice but to take care of your friends over hushed conversations.

“How much vodka did Hannah even drink?” Chenle asked while you both worked on cleaning up the mess of solo cups and napkins surrounding your friend who had, unfortunately, drank over half of the bottle. You picked it up, waving it at Chenle to show him. “She’s gonna have a nasty hangover…or at least wake up super dehydrated.”

As you worked on laying a blanket across her, passed out on the floor, Chenle had managed to stuff all the napkins inside the cups he had collected and was busy aiming at the trash can across the room. Right as he was about to shoot, “miss!” you called out. The little stack of cups hit the rim of the plastic trash bin and fell to the floor. Chenle turned to you, sticking out his tongue and imitating the way you caused him to mess up before going to properly dispose of the rubbish.

Instead of simply placing it in the waste, he once again returned to where he stood before, with one eye shut, aiming for the bin. You let out a scoff, ready to disturb him once more. He shot you a glance, knowing what you were planning from the way you just stood watching him. But regardless, he tried again. “Airball” you sang as he released the short stack of cups, sending them flying to the foot of the bin.

Chenle let out a growl, childishly stomping his way over to you while you tried to quietly escape from his grasps through the mess of food and other miscellaneous items on the floor. From the hushed giggles and name-calling from the two of you as you both stumbled around the room, to the whispered late-night thoughts and affirmations spoken from your positions on the floor with your heads resting on the edge of a bed, you barely even noticed how fast time was passing.

“Are you going home for the holidays?” You asked him.

He shook his head, “it’s my first time getting to live away from my parents and whenever I do go back, they’ll probably be expecting me to bring some girl with me.”

You turned to look at him, “why would they expect that?”

“They’re both getting old and want to retire soon,” Chenle started, “so the faster I get married and take over the company, the faster they’ll get to live out the rest of their lives,” he explained.

“Well that’s not very nice of them,” you commented, “what kind of parents would place such high responsibility on their child like that?”

“Mine I guess,” Chenle sighed.

After a moment of silence, you sat up, unsure what to make of the next words to come out of your mouth. “If you want, I could go with you.” Chenle looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed. “Like, I could be your fake girlfriend or something so that they don’t bother you so much about finding one.”

“That’s…an idea,” he started, biting on the corner of his lip as he played out possible scenarios in his head. “I think that would only make it worse though since we’d both have to make up stories and tell the same information.”

“True. But we could at least make it look believable, don’t you think?” You reached over to pet Chenle’s head the same way you’ve seen him do to his friends. “Oh, Chenle, you’re so cute,” you cooed, “I can’t wait to marry you and be with you for the rest of our lives.”

He grabbed your wrist and put it in your lap, not very keen on the show of affection. “Yeah, I think we’d look like a pretty convincing couple.”

“Do we look good together though?” You pondered. “If we were to show up to an event or something, would we make people stop and stare at us?”

“Anyone can do that if they wear something weird or do something out of the ordinary-“

“Okay but that’s not what I’m asking,” you interrupted, “I’m asking, would we look good together as a couple?”

Chenle shrugged apprehensively, “sure.” Your eyes bore into him as if forcing a more legit answer out of him. “Yes, I think we would look good as a couple.”

It was as if you and Chenle were made for each other. Whatever one did, the other was never too far behind. It was absolutely no surprise to your friends when you told them Chenle had asked you out and you became official. While your college careers continued and friends came and went, Chenle was always with you. He was your solid island in the middle of a tumultuous sea, your oasis in a dried desert. You didn’t need anyone else around to have fun, just him, just the two of you.

But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms and if you like having secret little rendezvous

Being with Chenle was as wild as things could get. It meant impulsive plans and bad decisions. Weekend nights normally consisted of one of you driving with no destination in mind until someone got hungry. Even at that point, the night didn’t end.

Sometimes the two of you would stay out past midnight, not wanting to leave each other’s company just yet. The feeling of the wind whipping past you as Chenle drove or the thrill of gassing it down the freeway was almost dreamlike. One would think that at this point, you’d return home, but for you, your home was wherever Chenle was. If it meant staying in a small hotel room for the night drinking cheap wine out of paper cups then so be it, that was home.

“Baby, you already drank almost half of the bottle, leave some for me,” Chenle teased, his eyes glimmering under the low lighting. The brightness of the small lamp on the desk failed to reach where he was sitting, the cozy armchair too far in the corner for it to be illuminated.

“Come here and get some then,” you suggested, lazily winking at him before downing another shot-sized gulp and enjoying the burn from the liquid running down your throat. The bed you were sitting on wasn’t all that soft but you had already warmed up a little spot of it and gotten too comfortable to move.

Chenle raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I don’t think you want me to do that.”

“Why not?” Your expression mirroring his.

“You wanna find out?

“Maybe I do.”

He let out a scoff and within a second he was on the bed, climbing up and settling over you. His warm breath fanned your neck, the scent of alcohol filling your senses. “Are you sure about that?”

“Fuck around and find out, handsome,” you taunted.

You had barely even finished your sentence before Chenle’s lips were on yours, his usual soft and pillowy lips became hot and heavy against yours under the guide of the fifteen-dollar wine. You were sure that you were definitely getting tipsy but Chenle’s love and passion were even more overwhelming. It was moments like this when you felt that you were drunk off of his love and it was absolutely intoxicating in the best way.

If you like to do the things you know that we shouldn’t do, then baby I’m perfect

It was drunk weekends like this that led to a rocky start of the following week. It’s not that you and Chenle were bad students, it’s just that when you become totally infatuated with the person you love, you start to devote yourself to them instead of what actually needs to get done.

As sophomores in college, one would think that you’d have a little more self-control but with Chenle, you just couldn’t help it. He was worse than any drug you could ever take, to the point where your friends would have to intervene and keep you in your rooms until a substantial amount of work was done.

You called them annoying but really you should’ve been thankful to them for caring so much about you back then, and you are thankful, looking back on it. They always told you ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ and you wish you had listened to them. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have lost a relationship that you thought was practically flawless.

Perfect for you

In junior year, that is when your beautiful illusion finally began crumbling down. Your workloads grew heavier and your hours of sleep decreased. Chenle would often leave you on read, having opened your message in the middle of studying then forgotten to reply to it. Even when you childishly got upset at him for that, he’d always give you the same apology or buy you something cute as if money could shut you up.

With little to no distance between the two of you, it was easy for boundaries to be crossed and for problems to go unaddressed. You can feel like you know someone so well, that they’ll always understand what you mean and they can read your words like a book, but it didn’t seem that way anymore with Chenle.

He’d make fun of the way you always made him say ‘I love you’ at least once a day or some of your other pet peeves, including the way you had a Hello Kitty mouse pad that was ‘too childish for a college student to be using.’ It may have been out of love but it sure didn’t seem that way.

I might never be the hands you put your heart in or the arms that hold you any time you want them

Soon, the little pricks in your relationship spread past closed doors and into your schoolwork. Sharing a major and classes with your significant other was not exactly ideal, especially when they had different values and beliefs from you and had to argue for their reasoning.

“That just isn’t sustainable in the long run though,” you commented as you read through Chenle’s senior research report while seated opposite of him inside a library study room.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back into his seat, about to repeat himself for the fourth time. “It’s not about sustainability, it’s about the profit margin that’s being made. What don’t you get?”

“It’s not good for the environment, it’s not good for the people working in the factories,” you point out, “I don’t get how you can subject these things onto people.”

“Y/n, we’re business majors,” he stated plainly, “we study money, the economy, sales, company relationships, we’re not here to be environmentalists. Things don’t have to last very long, so much as they make a profit.”

“But we should think about the impact of our future businesses and their longevity in the world-”

“You should think about passing this class and stop being so prissy and uptight about saving trees or whatever the fuck you’re going on about.”

You were absolutely shocked at the words that had just come out of his mouth. This wasn’t the first time he had seemingly degraded you in this manner, but when it came to school and your own work, you were deeply offended at what he had said, especially since both of you had spent many hours on your respective projects.

“Chenle,” you began softly, “tell me you didn’t mean that.”

He refused to meet your gaze, “If I told you that then I would be a liar.”

“Look, you can’t just spew whatever bullshit you want and just expect that people won’t get hurt,” you criticized, only to be cut off once more.

“Then maybe you should learn to not take everything so seriously,” he snapped back.

“I...I think we need a break.”

“Agreed.”

“No, from each other.” Chenle’s head whipped up to look at you, his eyes went wide when he realized what you were insinuating.

“Baby no, you know it’s not like that,” he started, but it was already too late. You blocked his voice out of your head as you packed your belongings, just wanting to get out of this room, wanting to get away from him.

This wasn’t the first time you had fought with him in this way but it felt like you had finally lost all your patience. You were tired of always being told you were wrong and having your thoughts and ideas invalidated. As you stormed away from the library, you realized that maybe you needed to let go of things that no longer brought you joy.

Sometimes letting go...is a new start

After that incident, you did indeed have a fresh start. You slowly removed Chenle from your life and just in time for graduation. Whenever he tried to approach you on campus, you always turned the other way even if it meant being late to class. Luckily, you didn’t have many shared classes with him anymore and you were all the more grateful for it right now.

You’d come back to your campus apartment with the occasional flower or sticky note left on your doorstep asking you to give him another chance but you simply didn’t have enough time or energy to care anymore. Commencement was approaching and you still had yet to hear back from any of the companies you had applied to for internships.

But that don’t mean that we can’t live here in the moment

One of your friends had mentioned that Chenle had already received news that he was accepted into his family’s business, a large company in China, and you wished you could’ve been there when he had read the email. You could practically hear his yell of delight, his laugh when he’d turn to hug you, even if it was practically guaranteed that he’d get in, you missed it all so much but there was no turning back now.

It wasn’t until after commencement did you receive your own letter of acceptance from one of the largest foreign trade companies in the area after you saw Chenle for the last time. “Zhong Chenle, Bachelor of Arts in business management.” You remembered the immense pride and pain you felt in your chest, watching him walk across the stage to claim his diploma as you sat clothed in the same cap and gown only a few rows away. You wished you could share your emotions with him, but you had to remind yourself that he was no longer yours, he was no longer the man you first fell in love with.

‘Cause I can be the one you love from time to time

Four years have passed since that moment at commencement. In those four years, you’ve climbed your way up in the company, taking a hold of a directing position in project development and management. With all your success though, there was always one failure that kept floating through your mind. The number of sleepless nights and wandering moments you’ve spent thinking about all the ‘what ifs’ and the changes you should’ve made in your relationship have all decreased with time, but sometimes it all comes crashing back. You miss the memories you made with him and you miss being so young and naive.

Sometimes you managed to hear a thing or two about the company he worked for but you never paid much attention to it, always falling back into a spiral of guilt and calling yourself the sole reason why your relationship fell apart. Chenle would even pop into your mind at the weirdest times when you’d be thinking of anything but him.

Like the other day as you were staring out the window of your office, watching people and cars pass by, your memory of Chenle speeding down the empty highway suddenly resurfaced. The adrenaline you felt from the buildings and signs whizzing by, the slight buzz of alcohol you felt in your system, the cool air coming in from Chenle’s window, the warmth of his hand in yours. You couldn’t help but smile at it fondly yet it turned sour when you thought of the last time he ever drove you somewhere. You had argued with him about something dumb, you couldn’t even remember it at this point, and you even slammed the door before storming off to who knows where.

Or some months ago, you were interviewing possible new hires for the company and met someone from Puerto Rico. Once you finished the interview with them, you sat at the wooden desk while remembering the way you teased Chenle because he didn’t know how to pronounce Puerto Rico. You thought it was cute and even told him that, but it ended up in another fight because you may have spent a little too long dwelling on the topic.

But oftentimes when you find yourself thinking about him, you’d wonder how he’s doing. Is he happy where he is right now? What kinds of things is he doing for his job? Has he found a new girlfriend? What if he dated many other people after me? What if he’s married? Would he have children by now? Or most importantly, ‘does he still love me?’

And if you like midnight driving with the windows down, and if you like going places we can’t even pronounce

Regardless, you’d shake off all these thoughts and continue about your day, completing the tasks assigned to you. The majority of your time was spent conducting interviews and deliberating with the directors about who to hire for what position. It was quite fun, really. You got to meet all of the new hires before they came into the company and you felt empowered by the fact that you would be indirectly responsible for the future of the company in this sort of way.

On one particular day, everything felt like it was going just a little too well. Your hair was done just the right way, traffic was light, your coworkers seemed to all be in a good mood, but most importantly, there were no fat folders sitting on your desk, waiting for you to go through. Just a single sheet of paper with the list of the new hires coming in for their briefings along with the notes you were required to go over.

You didn’t bother checking it, seeing as how you had exactly two minutes left before the scheduled meet time, which was exactly the amount of time you needed to head downstairs to the conference room. You really should have checked the list though. It would have prepared you for the shock of seeing a certain someone sitting at the table in a suit that looked all too good on him.

“Zhong Chenle?” You audibly gasped, pausing in your tracks the moment you entered the conference room.

His eyes were already on you as if he knew you’d be the person to walk through that doorway at that exact moment. “That would be me.”

The other new hires looked around at each other sharing all types of glances. Worried, suspicious, surprised, questioning, nothing really all that positive. “Sorry, he’s just an old friend that I was surprised to see,” you quickly explained, trying to pull yourself back together.

Throughout your whole presentation, it was like all the attention in the world was directed at you. Never had you felt this nervous before doing something that was supposed to be so familiar. Every time your eyes glanced over in Chenle’s direction, his gaze managed to catch yours as if he was trying to speak to you without any words.

By the time you adjourned the meeting and sent the new hires off to their respective departments, it felt like you had run a marathon. Your palms were clammy, your legs shaky, your mind racing, and your heart was pounding.

Chenle was the only one left in the conference hall while you pushed in all the chairs and turned off the lights. “Looks like these years have done you well.” He commented, finally able to take in the sight of you now that there was no one else around.

“I could say the same for you.” His shoulder had gotten broader and any childlike features had left his face. He truly looked like he had grown into a man. The dark gray suit he was wearing fit the lines of his body so well, it made you think he could’ve been a model instead of simply becoming an office worker. “So how have you been?”

He did a classic Chenle shrug, “nothing much really. I started off being just a marketing employee, did some work, and got myself to be chief marketing officer. It seems you’ve gotten much further than I have, though. Project development and management?”

“Oh, it’s not anything huge. I just help with planning things out and doing all the paperwork for its execution. I only do interviews and help with hiring when we’re in season, which would be why I’m here right now,” you explained, motioning for him to follow you out of the room. “Your new supervisor is probably wondering where you are. I sent the rest of the newbies a few minutes ago already. I’ll just tell him that you had a few questions about our operations.”

“Wow, cheating the system? That’s not the way I remember you,” Chenle said with mock disapproval. You led him to the elevators, pleasantly surprised to find one still on your floor after you hit the ‘up’ button. Your eyes met with his while you gestured for him to go in. “Ladies first,” he had a cat-like grin on his face as you rolled your eyes and stepped into the elevator.

“So why did you decide to leave your company? Weren’t you going to take it over someday?” You ask over the squeaking of the doors closing.

Chenle leaned against the cold metal wall of the elevator, “I still plan to but I felt like they were just kind of babying me or treating me differently because they knew of my background,” he explained. You could only nod to acknowledge the fact that you were listening. “I told my parents that I wanted to get experience outside of the company and they didn’t really understand at first until I showed them my point of view and how it’s a little worrisome to perhaps, learn how to cook when you always have chefs around you giving you instructions down to the tiniest things.”

The elevator came to a stop and the heavy doors opened onto the floor Chenle would be working on. “But why this company? We’re not even closely related to yours?” You led him down the hallway in the direction of his supervisor's office.

“My parents were the ones who recommended it, actually. It would be a little risky to go to a neighboring one in the case of it being viewed as a betrayal or like some kind of inside mission so they said I should just come back here since I’d probably have a high chance of acceptance-“ you put a hand up to stop him from talking, seeing how many of the other employees had started to look at him due to his volume.

“Chenle, must I remind you that this is an office?” You gritted out, embarrassed in front of your colleagues.

He shook his head before turning to the mass of them, bowing politely then continuing in the same direction as before. Once both of you reached the head office at the end of the hallway, Chenle spoke up once more. “By any chance, are you free tonight?”

“That depends,” you began, “what are you hinting at?”

“Just seeing if you’d like to go out to dinner so we can properly catch up, I guess,” he proposed bashfully.

You hummed in thought, “mmm, put in a good word for me with your supervisor and you’ve got a deal.”

“Deal,” he agreed.

“Meet me in the lobby at 5:30, don’t be late,” you told him before knocking on the wooden door in front of you and allowing Chenle in.

If you like to do whatever you’ve been dreaming about, then baby you’re perfect

You thought Chenle’s wine phase in college would be just that, a phase, but it really wasn’t. He had ordered an expensive bottle of merlot even with all your insistence that you wouldn’t be drinking and even made him promise that he’d be sober enough to drive himself back to wherever his accommodations were.

He made a face of fake dismissal before picking up your last conversation. “So anyway, as I was saying earlier, my parents suggested that I come back here, especially since I got my degree from the university so I’m bound to get in.”

You were about to open your mouth to say something like “getting in is not a guarantee” especially coming from your experience in doing interviews and having to decide which applicants to turn down, but you decided against it.

“Initially, I was a little against it since I didn’t want to come back to somewhere I’ve already stayed at for some time,” he confessed, “but after I did some research on the company and found out that you’re one of the associates, I was a little more open to the idea.”

There was a break of silence while you started to link your thoughts together. “So you came here because you found out that I work here?”

“Yes, but also no,” Chenle stated, blurting the second part out rather quickly when he saw the shift in your expression. “It is true that I wanted to see you and how you were doing but it’s not just that. I figured that if you worked here and had such a high position, it must be a good place to work.”

“But what I’m hearing is…you came here because of me,” you state bluntly though your heart couldn’t help but let out a cheer of delight.

Chenle redirected his gaze at the neighboring tables. “You could say that, sure.”

“Chenle, what do you want out of this? What do you want out of me specifically?” You contended. His eyes continued to flit around the lowly lit space, not daring to meet yours unlike earlier in the conference hall. “What? Did you come back just expecting me to run into your arms? Did you think we would just pick up where we left off?”

Now he looked down at the white tablecloth, as if in shame. “Would it be wrong of me to ask for a second chance?”

You too joined him in staring at the table, wishing that he had answered ‘no’ to your previous questions. “It wouldn’t exactly be wrong, but it’s not right either. I’d be willing to give you a second chance if we agree to not call it that, but rather a promise.”

He finally looked up at you again, his dark pupils catching the dim golden lights above him. “A promise?”

You nodded. “We’re older now, we’re fully grown adults with jobs to do and taxes to pay. We’re no longer the same carefree college students we used to be.”

“Well yeah, obviously-“

“No, listen,” you interject, cutting him off, “we can’t just recklessly play with each other’s minds and feelings like we used to. No more games and no more ‘next times.’ If we try again, I want this to be a promise that we’ll both do better because we can and we want to.”

“If it’s a promise that you want then,” Chenle held out his hand with his pinky finger extended, “it’s a promise I’m willing to make.”

You linked your pinky with his before bringing your thumbs together and sealing the promise. Matching smiles appeared across both of your faces as you stepped into a new chapter of life with Chenle by your side once more.

Sometimes letting go is…perfect. So let’s start right now

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

frENEMIES, pt.6 {Quarterback AU}

Summary: Two stubborn hearts forget that we don’t always have all the time in the world to say what we need to and make amends. 

Warnings: angst, swearing

Part one

Days passed and Grayson found a way back to his old habits. A different girl on his arm every day, his training and plays immaculately performed and his hair, the stupid fluffy whiskey colored curls, only grew longer as the semester came to an end.

His eyes were always fixed in front of him, no longer searching for the girl he had kept an eye on since the day he started his academic career. No, he was determined not to look for her again. If she wanted to see him as the bad guy, as the guy who can't seem to do anything right nor cares to? Well, he was done proving her wrong.

Y/N had made her choice and it was to think the worst of him and while he knew she was possibly running scared and secretly hoped she'd finally stop and let him catch up, she never did and he stopped expecting her to.

Dreams weren't as easy to ignore as the reality. In his dreams, their hands were intertwined, their smiles wide and somehow, she always had the insane habit of doing trust falls whenever he least expected it and it jolted him awake more than once when she'd just scream "TRUST FALL" and he'd have to catch her no matter how far he was or how full his hands were. Somehow, he found that part of his dream Y/N's personality most vivid and true to her real self.

If he's being completely honest, his eyes did wander a little bit during class, looking over to see if she arrived. To his surprise, her attendance remained perfect, but she wasn't truly there. It felt like looking at a distorted image in the mirror of the girl she used to be and it made him ache, but he had to protect his heart now. She had the ability to tear his heart out, she nearly fucking did and he couldn't let her finish the job.

Y/N had never felt lonelier walking through the halls as she did in the last months of her college experience. She had always had Amina, or at least she had Grayson to argue with. There were a few friends that came and went on the way but those two were her constants - something she could always count on being there, him to be there.

She knew she projected her hurt and fears onto him, that her mind was imploding and her heart wasn't allowed to make any decisions regarding her quarterback, which is a real pity considering how hard her heart fought for him.

There isn't a day that goes by that she doesn't wish she could stop hating herself enough to believe she doesn't deserve love, his love. That she could stop thinking she would be happier with him. That his lips aren't what she wishes to taste before her time on Earth is over and she draws her last dying breath.

And she wanted to do that the very next day after their fight, but when she went looking for him, he wasn't alone. Watching him lock lips with the head cheerleader before they went into the bathroom was enough to shatter what remained of her heart and the will to fight for what she hoped was the genuine man behind what Grayson showed the world. 

But that day he proved her right, that he wasn't in love with her and never would be - that it's the chase that got him interested in the first place. Maybe it's because of a prank or a bet to take her virginity, or maybe it's because he expected her to fall to his feet and worship him like everyone else or he just wanted the supposedly mind-blowing hate sex, but either way, he had disappointed her for the last time that day.

She could feel herself fading as time went by, focusing on school and her writing - the only escape she could find. Writing about the pain had made it strong but it also purified her soul. Hiding from the world, she walked the campus like a ghost, occasionally sneaking a glance of the quarterback just to know he's alright.

She found it masochistic, to seek a confirmation of his well-being when he had ruined hers. But she blamed herself for that as well, she was the one who gave him the power to break her heart in the first place.

Love at first sight was a myth before she met Grayson, but he had shown her it's real. And it hurts like fucking hell.

She went to a couple of his games, more to feel less depressed and alone stuck in her room, but also to relive that night he had dedicated his winning touchdown to her...the night that started their end too soon, yet not soon enough.

Neither of them realized how many missed glances they shared - just as she’d look away, he’d look at her with the same anguish she had. 

By the time graduation came, Y/N had already gotten a book deal, something she never expected in a million years since she didn't see herself ever being a professional writer. 

Her manuscript went missing a month before, but she had found it just a few days after she made her peace with the fact that she lost it - the book she started in her freshman year just after she met Grayson and a week before she met Amina, the same book that was meant to be almost like a therapeutic escape for venting her emotional distress and anything else she was scared to articulate in real life. Whoever had seen it must have sent a copy, but she never found out who. At least not then - the perpetrator was revealed eventually.

frENEMIES was discovered and she had no intention on missing out on this opportunity, even if it meant she'd miss the graduation ceremony.

And still, before she went, she left a note to the man who had inspired the book in the first place - the one where she put down every single detail since the moment she had met him and had her first kiss - every hidden emotion and opinion, thoughts she kept secret from herself as well, every happy smile and hopeful look and even the resentment and pranks and her inner struggle with how he made her feel since the first moment to the last - to the moment she lost him and had to move on.

That note consisted of a single passage from the very end of her book - seemingly unfinished as many things in life are, and when Grayson read it after the ceremony was over and he saw she wasn't there, he realized that he had fucked up once again.

I looked into your eyes and found my favorite color; pretty brown eyes and a mind full of thoughts. Your eyes have the whole world in them and quite honestly, I'm scared. What if no one makes me feel the way you did? But every fairytale has a villain, but you weren't the villain of my story. I was. Maybe when we're ready, we'll meet again. After all, destiny works in mysterious ways and if not, I'm still going to miss you, quarterback. Forever.

And in that moment he knew it was over, truly over and finished with. She had said her last goodbye and he remained with a world of unspoken feelings and apologies. He watched her slip away from him, but that's all he's done - watched and allowed it to happen. 

She was special from the start, a mean angel and a kind devil all at once and he loved her since the first time he saw her and thought he was in a dream.  He wonders if she ever realized that the only reason he got so drunk that night (his first and only time having alcohol) was because he needed liquid courage to talk to her.

She was beautiful, talented, impatient and stubborn and proud and prejudiced but also incredibly impactful in everything she did - from her protests to save the Earth on Earth day every year, to her little stunt in biology class where she released all the animals. No one knew it was her but him. He admired her for standing up for herself and others who were bullied into silence, for getting herself arrested for protesting and practically starting a riot when a young student was a victim of blatant racism but the dean didn’t care nor want to hold anyone accountable for the incident.

She was a simple woman - as simple as quantum mechanics and he gave up on her far too quickly.

Now, he's moving onto the big leagues, leaving college behind, but that note will stay in his wallet no matter where he goes or who he meets.

And it won't be her.

Not for years to come.

Tags: @dreadingdaisies​ @strangerliaa​​ @mendesficsxbombay​​​ @beinscorpio​​​ @peacedolantwins​​​ @dolandolll​

PART 7

[yurimother]

LGBTQ Manga Review - Citrus+ Vol. 1

Citrus is a series that many people, understandably, will never be able to enjoy. It contains several problematic elements that are hard to overlook, and if reading this review would upset you, I implore you to ignore it.

*This review contains spoilers for both Citrus and Citrus+*

The vast majority of Yuri stories feature relatively the same plot. Two schoolgirls meet, they fall for each other, or one aggressively falls for the other, there is some strife, a bit of drama, maybe a smidge of humor, and then they get together the end, YAY! This girl-meets-girl metanarrative dominates the genre. However, recently, more works are starting to break from its mold. Yuri stories featuring adults in relationships like Oui Pikachi’s The Gym Teacher and School Nurse are Dating are becoming more common. Yet, perhaps more interestingly, a few titles are altering the traditional of girl-meets-girl plot; these works include the typical storyline of meeting and falling for each other, but they do not end there. Milk Morinaga’s Girl Friends presents an early example of this, as the story continues after Mari and Akko begin dating, although they are both still very many students. Incredibly, Hiromi Takashima’s brilliant Yuri manga Kase-san did something similar but took it one step farther (“Girl Friends but more” describes 90% of Kase-san). The manga sees both characters graduating and moving onto adult life, which, unlike Girl Friends, is shown in the sequel work Kase-san and Yamada. Saburouta’s Citrus+ sits somewhere between the two. Mei and Yuzu are together and have yet to graduate, yet they feel much more like adults than students.

Citrus+, the sequel series to Citrus, picks up two weeks after Yuzu’s proposal to Mei from the original series. I was somewhat saddened to hear this, as I had hoped that they would be married in this series, especially after seeing the wedding images from the end of Citrus. I did not hold this missed opportunity against the manga as I read. I assumed that it was done to maintain the school setting and keep this series relatively consistent with the tone and storytelling of the original. However, I was utterly wrong. Citrus+ is incredibly different from the original series. Whereas the latter featured a high-stakes melodramatic story and unhealthy, although entertaining, characters in need of severe amounts of therapy, Citrus+ creates smaller conflicts that are reacted to and dealt with by almost rational and supportive characters.

The changes to the characters are natural. It is growth as a result of their experiences in the past series. Mei underwent the most drastic transformation. She is far less cold and aggressive, even cracking a smile a few times. In one scene, Mei thanks Himeko for all that she has done for her over the hears, a gesture of warmth previously unseen. At one point in time, she would have fled dramatically into the night when met with adversity. Now she reacts more calmly, using her maturity and demanding presence to help solve situations. However, she is not entirely changed. Mei is still relatively quiet and reserved, perhaps more so than before. Additionally, she still bears a heavyweight of responsibility. However, a large part of her concerns shifted from worrying about Yuzu’s misbehavior to worrying about her wellbeing, as seen when Mei takes her partner an umbrella.

Yuzu is changed as well, although less significantly than Mei. She is still rather loud, outgoing, and adorably infatuated with Mei. While the girls and their friends go to a cafe together, Yuzu cannot help but gush about her relationship with Mei, how they got matching sleepshirts, and stayed up late into the night talking. However, she too is far more mature. One of the series central plotlines involves her commitment to attend the same college as Mei. Her admittance to this goal demonstrates her growth and love of Mei, “Ever since we decided to get married, I’ve been trying to improve myself, so I can be there for you.” Its a bit overwhelming to see how far these two have come, they are a long shot from the angry, abusive girl and the bratty rebel.

The side characters also show small signs of change, all of which have to do with Mei and Yuzu’s relationship. Matsuri, while still have perverted and unaware of boundaries as ever, supports and teases the two as a couple, Harumi is willing to go out on a limb for both of them, and even Himeko expresses happiness that Mei has Yuzu, although she also admits her jealousy. All of these slight alterations highlight something remarkable that Saburouta accomplished. She made characters that matured and changed while remaining true to their defining personality traits. Its certainly not something I thought I would ever see from this melodramatic series, but a more than welcome addition. 

As previously mentioned, the scenarios are much smaller, or rather they feel less significant because of the proportional response delivered by the characters rather than the dramatic actions taken in the first series. For example, when Yuzu is determined to get into the same college as Mei, she starts studying hard and pulling all-nighters. Mei becomes concerned about Yuzu’s wellbeing but does not know how to approach Yuzu about it. The solution, she convinces Harumi to take Yuzu out clothes shopping, and Yuzu realizes that she needs to practice more self-care, which for her means putting some time into activities she loves like fashion. It is a realistic and understandable situation, brought on by reasonable and well-intentioned action, that is solved in a calm and caring manner, and are we sure I am still reading Citrus at this point!?

Speaking of parts of Citrus I never thought would be logical or healthy, Yuzu and Mei’s relationship. Now that the two young women are engaged, they can be much more public about their relationship. One of the lovely results of this revolution is that everyone gets to give them their complete, and occasionally overbearing, support, from their friends to their parents. Thankfully, a lot of the “will they won’t they” back in forth in the original drama is gone, which means that Mei and Yuzu can stand up for each other. In one of the manga’s best scenes, Yuzu, Mei, and her father attend a board meeting with the hopes of reliving Mei of the responsibility of becoming a chairman’s wife. When they refuse and demand that her future husband takes over, Mei insists that she will become chairwoman herself with Yuzu by her side to support her. It is a lovely declaration of love and affirmation of the relationship they have worked so hard to build.

Saburouta did an excellent job with this continuation. However, there is one pointless plotline that just irritated me. Mei and Yuzu decide that now when they are newly engaged of all times, that they will take things slow. I am not saying that I wanted a ton of sex scenes throughout the manga, but why are they going “back to the beginning” to “take it step-by-stop” I agree, with Matsuri, this is bat-crap crazy, especially when both openly admit to wanting each other. There are other inconsistencies with their romance, like being unwilling to wear their engagement rings at school, even though the relationship is basically common knowledge.

Citrus+ continues the contentious original series incredibly. The work has evolved from a ludicrous melodrama to a more straightforward work about people who love each other, making mistakes and working to navigate a different stage of a relationship. It is not wholly grounded in reality, nor does it need to be. The characters are far more mature than in the previous series, yet are still true to their established personalities. While the plot has a few asinine elements, it is sweet and satisfying. Fans of the original will love this afterstory about some of their favorite characters. However, those who did not enjoy Citrus will not find this work redeeming, it a reward for those who stuck it out with Mei and Yuzu for 10 volumes.

Ratings: Story – 7 Characters – 7 Art – 9 LGBTQ – 6 Sexual Content – 2 Final – 7

Review copy provided by Seven Seas Entertainment

Citrus+ vol. 1 is available now: https://amzn.to/35AvzWW

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

Cormac Mcnamara Fluff HC’s and SFW Concepts (x black reader for my inclusion) (heehee)

A/N: I spent some of my time off from the hellscape that is school on starting Foreign Exchange. Yeah, I don’t care much for Hannah, she only calls poor Cormac when she needs smth, and the poor thing gets led on so. Time for me to get my fluff fix in. He deserves all of the love and hugs. So, virtually, I’m gonna do that for my little cinnamon roll. I’d be friends with him if I went to school in Ireland for some reason.

@misskittysmagicportal you’re welcome lmao

Warnings: Menstruation, most likely a mention of racism bc i like to tackle issues head on, very very mild gore

Cormac is the softest little boy in town, let me TELL YOU.

I feel like he’d be so down for cuddles, or you just watching him fiddle with his technology.

Even if you understood jack shit about it, you’d put the effort in to learn about what polarizers are.

You’re an exchange student that knows NOTHING about the portal, you’re just from America.

On the day you arrive at Okeefee’s College, you were convinced you weren’t going to fit in.

You didn’t.

Half of the people there stared at you, and gawked at your accent, and how you enunciated your t’s and didn’t whistle your s’s.

Cormac was of course, out of the way, he’s not one to socialize, new student or not.

Of course, you were in the corner, even though you should’ve sat in the front of the class. Luckily enough, you didn’t have to do much, as new students always get a pass.

You stayed below the radar for the first couple days, and never seemed to notice Cormac looking at you in class, whenever you’d shy away from answering questions about yourself. He wasn’t too familiar with anyone too much different than the masses of the school, color, interest, speech.

You were thinking of taking the LONGEST of naps after your classes finished, but those plans were quickly changed. The both of you weren’t paying attention where you were walking.

He crashed into you to say the least, and the copy of “Astrophysics for People in a Hurry” fell out of your hands, your bookmark getting lost.

“Ah, I’m sorry about that. Wasn’t watching where I was-WAIT, you’re that new girl from America, aren’t ye?” Cormac said, readjusting his glasses. You nodded, and were perplexed at his new creation, it looked like a gramophone, but with a motherboard and an antenna.

He tried to hide it from you, but he saw your gaze constantly go back to the machine, even as he snapped in front of your face.

‘You alright there? Oh, you’re looking at this. You want to hang out with me over the weekend. Maybe you can catch up from your bookmark, while I work on this.”

You confirmed, and that’s how you two became polarizing pals.

Cormac may be smarter than the library, not the porridge one, and as quick as a whip, but do NOT be shocked. He is very socially inept, and a little behind on cues, and different things.

He almost touched your hair once, without your permission, but you stopped him right in his tracks.

“Cormac, do you want your hand maimed and chopped off, then hung from the top of the flagpole.” you said, giving him a death stare.

“N-no, I don’t. Did I do something wrong?” he asked, taking his hand away, putting it back on the screwdriver.

“Well, for starters, don’t touch my hair without my permission. It’s a no-no for all people, but for black people especially. We had to have our hair cut off completely. That was our culture, and it was ripped away because we were seen as less than, nothing but an animal. So, you, taking your hand, as clean as it may be, and putting it in the fruits of my ancestors’ labor. That’s disrespectful love.” you replied, turning a page.

He has no idea, (damn education system), but he continues to learn about different cultures, especially black culture, African-American culture. The War on Drugs. He comes to you close to every day with different factoids, a good amount of them you already know, but you’re still happy that he puts effort in.

He’s a very tall lad, so expect very warm hugs from him. After a long day of school, he walks over to you, wherever you may be, and hugs you, asking how your day was. You melt into the hug, and smile against him, marveling at how consistent he is.

In classes, if there’s an odd number of people left, it’s always you, he, and Hannah. Y’all get the work done quickly, and he even lets you join them when Orienteering.

Now, you’re one smart cookie. No matter race, everyone has the power to be as smart as they can be. As well as that, they can work damn hard to get there, through all the trouble and hatred. Every now and then, a teacher might shut you down. Ask Cormac if he knows, in which he responds, but always sends you a look of pity.

A teacher could go through all of the students in a class, and not get the right answer once, and your hand stayed up through every excruciating second of it. And, begrudgingly, the teacher asks you, in which you give the correct answer, and if even a *word* is out of place, you’re ridiculed.

That always tends to upset, you, ruffle your feathers, but you don’t give in, not until you’re alone, in your dorm. Crying at the unfairness, wishing it were different.

Or in Cormac’s arms, wetting his sweater, his brain moving a mile a minute to try to say the right thing. He always held you so gently, he’s used to it. His experiments could go wrong with a moment’s change. He’s used to being patient, and tender.

He’s always trying to ask you about life in America, trying to find out what you hated, what you loved. His curiosity was never ending, it seemed. Sometimes, though, he could get a little caught up with his words, and you’d giggle at him, and help him along. This typically happened when he was trying to ask you out to go to the courtyards, or to library dates. He’d sneak food to you, and you two would have picnics near the sheep.

Whenever there weren’t too many teachers around, and when Hannah was in Perth, you two would cuddle on the grass, and sneak cheek and hand kisses in every now and then.

He’s an EXCELLENT cuddler by the way, lots of space to appreciate.

He knew mostly where you would be, and you him, but every now and then, one of ye’ wouldn’t respond to emails, but it’s usually due to an upset stomach, or too much studying. This wasn’t going to be the case ever time.

You were usually very attentive during class, doing classwork, writing down notes. However, one of these days, Cormac could tell something was wrong. Your head was down, and your binder was pressed tightly against your abdomen. Every now and then, he saw you scrunch your face in what seemed like pain, but he couldn’t put his finger on what the problem was.

It was a Friday, so you were free, and you and Cormac had plans to sleep in, and have another sheep picnic. At the moment, however, all you wanted to do was take a big fat nap, and sleep through the weekend.

As soon as class ended, you bolted out of the door, and Cormac tried to catch up, but Tara teased him, saying that you’d finally grown up, and wanted someone better than him. Your body was still, however, in too much pain to do focus.

He tried to get to you, but you were moving too fast, already halfway up the steps. He saw a portion of your khaki skirt, was red, and he began getting concerned, thinking you had began dying.

When you finished your shower, and began soaking your skirt, gone but never forgotten, you saw a cluster of emails from Cormac, asking if you were okay, dead, angry at him. Or needed medical attention. You were brought to tears, and instructed him to meet you at 7:00p.m., in front of the boy’s shower room, typically where Cormac would take you to his room, where you’d fall asleep on his bed, book on top of your face. He’d want to take a picture, and did, leaving it above his bed.

He met with you, and when he asked you if you were okay, a particularly tough cramp hit you like a truck, causing you to crumble. You groaned at the pain, and Cormac followed you down, asking if you were okay.

“Cormac, I’m cramping, just some pain.” you whispered, holding back tears

“What’re the cramps from? You eat something weird?” he asked, looking at you with concern.

“No, I’m on my period.” you said, sitting on the cold floor.

“Oh, you mean...menstruation. When you shed your uterine lining because your egg wasn’t fertilized, so now it’s coming out of your...um...lady....parts.” he stuttered, a blush forming on his face, followed by a look of concern.

You laughed at his explanation, and confirmed his suspicions, until another cramp hit you.

“Oh goodness, you must be suffering. I’ve heard that menstrual cramps are sometimes as bad as heart attacks.” he said, beginning to rub your stomach, helping soothe the pain.

You nodded again, and he led you to his room, grabbing you spare chocolate from when you were craving due to PMS, (unknowingly). He heated up a towel, and tucked you into your sleeping bag, his parallel to yours.

Tears began to escape from your eyes from his gestures, and he reached over to dry them.

“It’s okay to cry. Especially if you’re in a lot of pain. I think that it’s absolute bollocks that you feel like there’s something wrong for you for simply being human. It’s like a punishment for not getting pregnant. You didn’t ask for it.” he replied, letting you lay on top of him for the time being.

You smiled against him, but sadly woke up to more bloody underwear, and realizing that you’d leaked on Cormac. You shook him awake, and he didn’t even begin to panic, handing you a pair of spares, and a product through the door.

“Just a bit o’ blood. Nothing bleach or peroxide can’t fix.” he said, hugging you once again.

Cormac is very hesitant to kiss you on the lips. You pecked him once, and that sent him up the wall. His ears turned even more red, and his cheeks lit up.

He responded to your laughter with multiple face kisses, eventually landing one at your lips, lingering for a moment.

You cheered for his confidence, and you two went to a picnic the next day, the sheep happy to have you two there.

You felt completely over the moon to have Cormac as your partner. Even if he was a little shit sometimes, you wouldn’t have him another way.

Masterlist

[fc5holidayexchange]

FAR CRY 5 HOLIDAY EXCHANGE 2019 FIC

‘How the Tea Saved Christmas’

Female Rook/Joseph Seed, Joey Hudson, John Seed; when local barista Rook learns that the holidays are a not-so-great time for one of Hope County’s families (and her favorite customer), she takes it upon herself to learn a new skill to bring him a little Christmas Cheer.

@bintangy

“Here is my gift for the wonderful Tangy! I hope you like it and it brings you a little joy during this holiday season :)

If there was one thing Rook lived by in life, it was that if she was gonna do a job, she was gonna do it right. So when she’d gotten the opportunity to sling lattes part-time back in college, Rook decided she wasn’t going to give it the half-assed attempt most baristas gave it: instead, she spent her free time learning that foofy-foam art nonsense to take her skills to the next level. It had been entertaining to whip up frothy drinks decorated with all sorts of dumb phallic images for her friends, but the skill really hadn’t become important to her until she’d graduated and found herself with exactly zero job offers in her field.

With nothing else to turn to, she’d dipped back into the reliable work for the chance to earn the modest monthly rent for her apartment. And thankfully, instead of working for a soul-sucking corporate chain, Rook ended up at The Sheriff’s, an adorably simple coffee shop situated right in the downtown of Hope County suburbia. The owners, a perfectly darling family with a girl her age by the name of Mary May, had been graciously open to her idea of introducing art back into caffeine and were more than happy to let her produce her latte art for customers that specifically asked for it.

While not everyone was interested in the art form, some customers were more than happy to wait for whatever random art she decided to produce for them that day. Those that did ask for it were great tippers and had been vigorous at spreading the word about the girl creating painstakingly beautiful foam art in the idyllic little family business. Sales took off for the shop and Rook made more than she needed to get by in tips alone most days, but more importantly than that – she actually enjoyed what she was doing. It certainly hadn’t been what she expected to do with her life out of college, but the town had quickly absorbed her into their collective family, her employers especially.  

“Rook! Got another one.”

Joey Hudson’s voice sailed across the shop and into the back where Rook was taking stock of the morning’s supplies. With a grin, Rook headed through the double doors and peered over the counter. A flash of blue hair caught her attention immediately. “Nadine, hi. What can I get for you?”

True to form, Nadine Abercrombie flashed a brand-new comic book proudly as she placed her morning order. When the enthusiastic young woman first began coming to the shop to ask for art of the newest comic book characters, Rook had been woefully under-prepared and un-researched on even the most ‘basic’ of characters by her standards; since then, Nadine had taken to bringing examples in hand.

Rook did an exemplary job of copying even the most ridiculous of superhero symbols if she did say so herself and jumped at the chance to replicate today’s choice character. She grabbed a large ceramic cup and tossed a quick, “Coming right up!” over her shoulder as she set to her task.

Nadine was more than happy with the work and eagerly delved into the pages of her comic with her latte in hand. Because of the small-town atmosphere, there were lots of regulars that kept to pretty consistent schedules. Sometimes, strangers passed through during peak tourist season which provided Rook with her greatest challenges, but for the most part Rook’ work was pretty consistent.

Joey eyed her from the register. “Think that poor girl will ever get out of this town?”

“Come on, Hudson.” Rook wiped down the espresso machine and turned to toss the rag at her coworker. “At least she didn’t have a choice in starting out here. Better than making the choice to move to a small-ass town like this.”

“Hmm.” Joey paused. “Touché, Rookie.”

With a roll of her own eyes, Rook countered, “Quit calling me that.”

The chime of the front door’s bell interrupted their banter. Rook felt a quick prod to her side and met Joey’s salacious grin before she turned and saw–

Oh.

It was her newest regular. From what she’d heard from the town’s gossip, the Seed family had remained largely reclusive though not unfriendly during their stay in Hope County. At the beginning of December and therefore the holiday season, Rook had taken it upon herself to up her game with the cutest possible holiday art. It was at that time that the newcomer had first entered the shop and Rook was taken by the way his eyes seemed absolutely enchanted by the perfectly outlined snowflake she’d etched into the foam. Now, the signature Seed-blue eyes were recognizable from a mile away and Rook felt rooted to the spot when she met Joseph Seed’s gaze across the counter.

A smile tugged at his lips as he stepped up to order. “Hello, Miss.”

Though there was no malice behind it, Joey rolled her eyes and backed away from the register. For as many times as he’d been in the shop, Joseph had always asked for the latte art and had, since the beginning, maintained that he would like the pleasure of giving his praise directly to the artist. His gaze remained steady even as Rook took her place at the register.

“It’s Rook, please. I promise there’s no need to be formal.”

A mischievous glint entered Joseph’s eyes, one that told her he had no intention of breaking that tradition of theirs. Joseph had been a very quiet and agreeable patron prior to the discovery of her art. Now? He preferred making his orders directly through her and with an air of humor Rook was surprised to hear from him. The way that their banter brought a smile to his handsome face and brought out the lines around his eyes suited him. “But I thought the customer was always right, Miss.”

There wasn’t much Rook could say to that, so she instead focused on trying to tame the heat rising to her cheeks and asked, “What can I get for you today?”

As Joseph opened his mouth, another face suddenly peered from over his shoulder. The family resemblance was clear in both the eye color and the way that they lit up with mischief upon seeing her.

“Oh, Joseph, you never told me that the barista was as darling as her art.”

Joseph’s cheeks immediately flushed. “John.”

“Sorry, sorry.” What could only be the youngest Seed brother leaned his heavily-tattooed arms on the counter. “I’ll just have two shots of espresso. Need to stay awake through some horrendously boring briefings. Joseph?”

Almost shyly, Joseph asked, “Just a small cinnamon holiday latte.”

Despite the fact that John’s sudden appearance had taken her by surprise, Rook could practically feel her heart melting at the way Joseph always asked for the art as though he was bothering her. She’d make a whole fleet of art-stamped foam lattes if he asked for it. She set to the task at hand, putting up Joseph’s cup first to create her canvas before grabbing a smaller mug for John.

To her surprise, the younger of the two remained as Joseph walked the crowd in search of a table. John watched her with an air of badly-disguised disinterest that was shattered the moment he murmured, “You know he doesn’t actually drink caffeine, right?”

“Ow–” At the sudden remark, Rook jerked her head up and managed to catch her head on the cabinet above the steamer. “What do you mean, he doesn’t drink caffeine? He’s here almost every day.”

A smirk grew until it threatened to overtake John’s handsome face. “Of course he is.” And, with a conspiratorial wink, he leaned forward and whispered, “But have you ever actually seen him drink it?”

“No…” Rook was usually (and understandably) too busy to study Joseph while he sat in the shop. The most she got to experience was the way his features lit up at the recognition of whatever she’d made for him, but that in and of itself was more than enough for her. She absent-mindedly put the finishing touches on the edges of the ornament she’d etched into the foam and slid it across the counter.

“Hmm.” Without another word, John collected both his and his brother’s drinks and headed to their tables.

Now, Rook’s interest was piqued. All this time, she’d assumed that the holiday art had been keeping Joseph here; after all, he hadn’t started showing up in the line until she began the recent brand of holiday-themed latte art. She kept moving orders out and conversed conversationally with her regulars as they cycled through the line, but she kept a discreet eye on the pair of them sitting in the corner. To her absolute dismay, as time stretched on and the two of them moved from their spot, Joseph failed to lift his mug to take a drink even once.

She was immediately crestfallen. A small part of her had been excited about the idea of Joseph enjoying his drinks for her, and the thought made her feel stupid. As Rook kicked herself mentally behind the counter, John suddenly parted from Joseph with a touch to the older man’s shoulder and headed back to the counter.

Under the guise of handing her his used mug, John murmured, “The caffeine – it’d keep him up at night and he doesn’t sleep much as it is. Especially with the holiday season rolling around. It’s… a difficult time to say the least. For all of us.”

Oh.

So he’d noticed her sulking then, but rather than make fun of her, the lawyer with the sharp observational skills was trying to make her feel better. With a smile that almost didn’t match his abrasive nature, John added, “He likes herbal tea. Though I’m sure he’d miss out on your art and I can’t imagine you’d do as well with tea leaves.”

And with that, the two blue-eyed men were gone, leaving Rook stunned at the turn of events.

The coffee-fueled mogul of a family that ran the coffee shop was perplexed when she brought up the suggestion, to say the least, but they were thankfully willing to give it a shot. As shipping orders arrived with the usual holiday fanfare and the shop’s shelves began to be overtaken by the standard shades of red and green, Rook kept an eye out for a specific order and when it arrived, it did so with the air of Christmas arriving early.  

She tried to tell herself that the excitement was because of the opportunity to learn and to expand business, not because of him alone. The mantra repeated itself in her head even as she lined up the first tins and placed the kettle on the range in the back kitchen while imagining Joseph’s face at his first cup. If the holidays were a tough time for him, the least she could do was teach herself how to make a decent cup of tea while incorporating a little art on the top still.

“What in the holy hell are those little shits?” Of course, Joey poked her head in at the exact moment Rook began reading through the first article.

With a sigh, Rook set her reading materials aside. “Tea.”

Joey fiddled with one of the tins, though thankfully, she didn’t move it far from the organized stack. “These tins are cute, but why are they here?”

“We’re adding tea to the menu.”

The squinty look Joey gave her wasn’t helping to fuel her resolve that this wasn’t just for Joseph. “You wouldn’t happen to be turning this place into the new hipster tea shop of the town because of a certain hipster-looking man?”

Rook sputtered indignantly but her denial fell flat. “The man-bun isn’t that out of control.”

The smirk on her coworker’s face faded as Joey dug through the next box and then peered out at the loading bay to the awaiting others. “You’re… you’re serious about this.”

With a sigh, Rook abandoned her current task and leaned against one of the stacks. Though the folks of Hope County were lovely people, she couldn’t help but feel that a real, genuine connection with another person was something she’d been lacking since she’d moved to the county all those weeks ago. That was, until the first night Joseph had come across the coffee shop looking every bit as exhausted and sleep deprived as John had said. The slightly offended look he’d tossed at their holiday display made more sense now. It was probably a fool’s errand, but she clutched to the moments she was sure she felt between her and her favorite patron. “Yes, I am. After all, we’d be stupid to sleep on expanding to a market that may very well do well in this town. For business, you know.”

“Mmn hmm.” With a humph, her coworker picked up a particularly large teapot and scrutinized it before settling it next to the other. “And when do we begin unveiling this newest product for the desired target ‘customers’?”

Rook scoffed, though she turned to her friend with the semblance of hope. “We?”

“Yes, we. Can’t let you venture out on the owner’s capital on your own.” Joey tossed her a grin that barely passed Rook’s own glee as the elder woman started on the work. “Besides, we’ve only got – what, a few more days until Christmas? If you’re gonna master how in the hell to make foam art on top of tea, you’re gonna need all the help you can get. And believe it or not, I’m a sucker for a good holiday romance story.”

With a grateful snort, Rook passed the nearest tin over. “Operation Herbal Holiday is a go.”

Keeping the tea secret under wraps became more and more difficult as the days passed, especially with the introduction of even more decorations and holiday-themed events at the shop. Unsurprisingly, Joseph was noticeably absent the day that Mary May’s parents hired actual Christmas Carolers to serenade the night-owls for their usual midnight cups of joe. Rook could only imagine what John had meant when he said that the holidays were an especially difficult time for the family; after all, she hadn’t had the opportunity to speak to either of them since that fateful encounter.

She was surprised when she straightened her obnoxiously-patterned holiday sweater at the chime of the door only to meet Joseph Seed’s apprehensive expression across the counter. It couldn’t have been past 7pm, but the poor guy looked exhausted. The pale-brown sweater that clung to his frame was noticeably absent of the cartoonish holiday imagery that all other patrons appeared to be wearing.

“Hi.” Rook surprised them both further by being the first to speak up. “I, uh, I’m sure you’re probably here for latte art, but can I make a different suggestion?”

As formal and quiet as ever, Joseph smirked, apparently more than happy to let her take the reins. “Of course, miss. I’m sure you probably know the coffee better than most.”

Rook set about grabbing the necessary supplies as Joseph slid to the other end of the counter, out of the way of prying customer eyes. With a nervous glance over the steamer, she prodded, “So… not getting much sleep this holiday season, I take it?”

If he was startled at all by the question, Joseph didn’t show it. “It is that obvious, huh? Well. As I’m sure you’ve heard by all the rumors by now, the holiday season is not one my brothers and sister and I usually partake in.”

“Rumors?” Rook was genuine in her confusion. Of all the stories she’d heard of the Seeds so far, none of them had detailed any specifically bah-humbug behavior from the quartet.

Another sound of surprise escaped Joseph. “The four of us all shared an equally difficult upbringing, and for various reasons, we’ve never really delved into the holiday spirit this time of year. Old habits, and all.”

“Ah.” With a swoop of nervousness settling in her stomach, Rook carefully slid the cup across the counter to him. “Well, I hope this helps. On the house. Happy Holidays, Joseph.”

Joseph glanced down, and the soft smile that had settled over his lips vanished immediately. He studied the little ornate Christmas Tree, complete with a small poked-out star designed on top, and appeared only more bewildered when he inhaled and noted the absence of the scent of espresso.

“It’s tea,” Rook offered as she twisted a towel in her hands. Joseph cocked one brow up as she continued, “I uh, may have heard one teeny little thing – that you prefer tea over coffee.”

“How-” With a pained groan that only came from the experience of an older sibling, Joseph rubbed a hand across his face. “John. I should have known.”

“It’s okay!” Rook exclaimed quickly. “I didn’t even notice all this time that you weren’t even drinking them…”

Long fingers settled around the warm mug as Joseph pulled it closer to him. “I’d hoped you wouldn’t. I would not want you to think I disliked the art.”

It was her turn to scoff. “You paid and tipped far too much not to be able to really enjoy it.”

Joseph blinked in bewilderment. “Not drinking it didn’t mean I wasn’t enjoying them. You make beautiful art and you are willing to share it with the rest of the world. That, in and of itself, is a gift that we are all very blessed to enjoy.”

“Yeah, well.” Rook tried to shrug off the heat that rose to her cheeks at his praise. “Now you get to do both. You know, enjoy the drink and enjoy the view.”

He sipped quietly at the tea before that playful smirk emerged, and Rook was again caught off-guard. “I may do just that. If, perhaps, the real view here is available for dinner sometime later this week? Assuming you do not have plans for the holidays.”

Rook barely contained the squeak that threatened to escape from thFCe finesse of the compliment. “Uh, no holiday plans for me.” With a grin of her own, she added, “That would mean we’d be making holiday plans together. Assuming you’re okay with getting into the holiday spirit suddenly.”

“Hmm.” Joseph savored another sip from the steaming mug before he settled the ceramic on the counter. “That would mean so, yes. I, like an unfortunate number of souls today, had forgotten that the holiday season is all about giving until you reminded me with how thoughtful and genuine your willingness to give was. Thank you, Rook.”

With a smile that only made her heart swell further, Rook risked a reach across the counter to brush his warm hands with hers.

[mysteryofren]

welcome back

part 8 of so happy together

Part 7

  The days after new years felt like a dream. You and Ben texted non stop. You learned a lot about him in the past few days. The more you knew about him the more you liked him. You told him more about your relationship with his parents, and he tried giving you the best advice he could. You wanted badly to ask if he wanted to hang out, but you knew his parents were home. Even if he acts like it you feel like deep down he missed them, and that he’ll miss them when school starts up again so you never brought up hanging out. 

 Your grandfather went back to working again, so you only saw him at breakfast, and dinner. Some days he stopped working early so you two could go out, or watch a movie before he went to sleep. For a moment it felt normal. As normal as it could be. You felt like you were a regular teen with a regular parent. Well grandparent. He made time for you instead of constantly working and brushing you off. You were originally supposed to stay for christmas eve, christmas, and the next day. That first night was amazing, and you refused to leave. You would stay too if your school wasn't so far. It made you love your time here even more. 

 Gideon and you spent your days exploring the forest and playing games at the house. You learned a lot about the old dog in the days since you got him. One day there was a rare winter rain. You set up by a window and listened to music. Gideon saw you sit and sat next to you putting his head in your lap watching the rain fall down the window with you. He followed you everywhere. If you walked to the kitchen he went with you. You went to bed and he would follow you and sleep next to you. One day you decided to take a bath and he sat in the tub with you. The sentiment was nice, but bathing with a dog wasn't exactly sanitary. Your grandfather had chosen the perfect dog for you. You loved Gideon as if you had been his owner for his whole life. 

 Although they felt like a dream. The days went by fast then next thing you knew you were packing a bag to go back to school. Most kids just went back on the first day classes resume, but you wanted to get back early and enjoy the peace there before the chaos began. Your grandfather helped take your bag to your car. The worst part about going back was leaving him. You had so much fun being at his house the past 2 weeks it made you sad to think you had let yourself get so busy you were only seeing him every few months. He made you a copy of the house key so you could go by anytime you wanted to. You added it next to your dorm keys, and pulled him in for a hug. What were you going to do without him or Gideon. At least you would be with Elaine again, and you would get a chance to see Ben more. 

  The whole ride back you felt a strange emptiness. Like you were going away for good. You knew you werent. You and your grandfather had made plans for the following weekend to get lunch. Either way going back felt weird. Eventually you pulled into the parking lot for your dorm. You parked and got out looking around, and taking in the silence. You grabbed your bags out of the seat and walked to your room. You opened the door and set your stuff down on your bed. You grabbed your headsets and put them on. You started unpacking your bag and putting all the clothes you had used in a basket. You took all your unused clothes and put them away. You picked up the basket and headed to the campus laundry room. 

The next day came fast. You woke up early to get ready making sure your makeup was just right. The one thing you definitely didnt miss about the school was the stupid uniform you had to wear. It consisted of a dark green plaid skirt with a white button up tucked into it, along with a tie. You did have the option of wearing a blazer with the school's logo on it, but for the most part you went without that. The boys had to wear khaki pants, with a white button up, and a red and gold tie. Unlike the girls uniform it was required that they wear the blazer. After you got done getting ready you grabbed your backpack and books and headed to your home room class. 

 You walked in and saw all the familiar faces before sitting down next to Hux. Unfortunately he was the only friend you had in the homeroom. Elaine was always placed in another one. Once you sat next to Hux you said your hellos before your teacher had walked in.

“Welcome back, I trust you all had a nice vacation?” professor Windu asked. 

A hushed reply of yes’ went over the room 

“Good. we have a few things to go over before you go to your classes.” you listened as he went over basic stuff, updating everyone on fundraisers, upcoming events and future assemblies.

 You were close enough to Hux, that you could whisper to him without anyone noticing. 

“So how was the college?” you asked him

“It's amazing, everything is absolutely beautiful, I'm so excited to go at the end of the year.” 

“That's good, what are you going for?”

“I originally wanted to go for law so I could work with my father but they do have an amazing art program and I would love to be an art curator at the Met.” you never knew he was into art.

You two continued talking until the bell rang letting students know to head to their next class. The day went by fast and finally you arrived at your final class of the day. Computer science. You took your usual seat, and waited until your teacher gave you an assignment. A few seconds after arriving your desk mate walked in. You had completely forgotten Matt sat next to you. 

“So I heard you kissed brother, guess that means you’ll be with him now?” he asked as he sat down. 

“I mean maybe, I'm not really sure what's going on there.” 

“Well I consider you my friend so i know if anything does happen you’re cool, and you won't be mean to me like his last girlfriend.” 

“Hey! We are friends, and I would never be mean to you under any circumstance.”  then it finally hit you. How did he know you met his brother? Had he talked about you? Did Luke say something?

“So how did you hear about that happening? Did Luke say something?” 

“No he talked about when he got back. He seems to really like you.”

“I mean i kind of like him too so i guess that's good.” 

 You and Matt had been cut off by your teacher telling you of a new project. Automatically you and Matt looked at each other knowing you were going to partner up for it. She explained the project would be for artificial intelligence. She gave the rest of the period to make a plan and get started. You and Matt made an outline of your plans and started making the powerpoint. Near the end of class you two discussed a day to get together after class along with eating lunch together and working on it. When class was over you walked around campus for a while together you asked him about Hoth and what he did when he was there. He told you about how it was his first time seeing snow, and going skiing. After a while he told you he told you he was gonna go unpack his stuff from his trip. 

  You walked back to your room and saw that Elaine still hasn't gotten back yet. Your guess was that she was still coming back from classes. You set your bag down and laid out on your bed, when you realized you hadn't talked to Ben all day. You pulled your phone out of the pocket you had sewn into your skirt and sent him a quick text. You figured that the first day must have overwhelmed him, and it just slipped his mind. After about 10 minutes you stood up and grabbed your bag. Digging your books out you walked over to your desk and sat down to do homework. You checked your phone every 5 minutes hoping he would reply. After about 30 minutes passed and Elaine walked in and she was wearing her soccer outfit. 

“Dude you'll never guess what happened today!!” she said as she walked in. throwing her bag down. 

“Is everything okay?” you turned looking at her. 

“Yeah everythings fine, but there's a coach from NYU coming to the game next week!”

“Oh hell yeah! This is gonna be so good for you!” you stood up and hugged her.

“You're coming to the game, right?” she asked 

“Of course I come to every game!” 

“Well you were busy with a certain someone else.” she teased. That reminded you to check your phone again.

“Actually a certain someone has spoken to me all day.” 

“Maybe he's busy. It was his first day after all.” she said as she grabbed clothes and headed to the bathroom. She was right, maybe you were overreacting. Some reason it just felt wrong. 

  You decided to throw your phone on the bed so you didn't feel tempted to keep checking. About two hours later you finished your work for the week you even thought of some ideas for your computer science project. Once you were done you got up and grabbed your phone to message Matt about some of your ideas. Still no text from Ben. You sent Matt some of your ideas. Frustrated you asked Elaine if she wanted to go to Mazs place for dinner. She thankfully agreed and you two got dressed. As you walked out you got a message from Matt telling you he had some ideas too. On the walk back you talked back and forth about them before deciding on a few ideas. 

  When you got to the restaurant you saw Hux sitting alone again.

“Do you mind if we go sit with Hux?” you asked her.

“Sure, but can I ask why his name is Armitage and we all call him Hux?”

“He hates his name so we all kinda just started calling him by his last name.” you explained as you walked over to his table. She nodded her head and walked over with you. 

“Hey Hux, can we sit with you?” you asked him. He smiled and motioned for you guys to sit down.

“Of course you can, Phasma should also be joining me at any moment.”

“Cool, we can all hang out I Dont really hang out with Phasma outside of practice.” 

 You both sat down and started talking to Hux when Phasma arrived. You've known her since about middle school. Her parents and yours were friends. You would call her a friend, just not one you hang around a lot. You all stayed four a few hours talking, and laughing. Well most of you are laughing. Hux never really laughed. He kind of just smiled, or let out a breath. You figured that's why him and Phasma were best friends. They were serious as hell. Phasma had her moments of goofiness but for the most part. She was a bad bitch.

  When you decided to leave you all walked to the dorms together. After Hux walked off to his room. You, Elaine, and Phasma had walked to the girls dorm area. Once you and Elaine parted with Phasma you checked your phone again. Nothing. You sighed and put your phone up. You watched Elaine dig her keys out and unlock the door.

“Still no messages?” she said  walking in. 

“No, i'm sure everything will be alright.” you walked in and quickly changed into yours night clothes.throwing yourself on your bed you sighed. “Maybe if he doesn't like me i can just date Hux.” you said jokingly.

“Oh yeah that's something I'd pay to see happen. Can you imagine little red headed versions of you running around. It'd be like a nightmare I had once.” 

“Stars can you imagine. Y/N Hux. it kind of has a ring to it.” you both laughed. 

“I can see it now. You, an up and coming fashion designer, him, a big hot shot lawyer! Together you two strike fear into the heart of New Yorkers!” she dramatically fell onto her bed making it seem as if she had fainted. 

“Actually he wants to be an art curator.” you corrected her.

“Even better you both are art nerds.” she tucked herself in and turned off her lamp light. You did the same as she spoke out.

“I'm positive he’ll text back. He's got to, he’d be an idiot if he didnt.” she yawned out before falling silent. You stayed up a while longer. You searched through old texts looking to see if anything had been different the day before. Could you have said something that put him off? Did he indicate that something was wrong and you didn't notice? You searched desperately for an answer, until you eventually drifted off.

[asexualbookbird]

AIR AWAKENS BY ELISE KOVA  ★☆☆☆☆

Vhalla has always been taught to fear the Tower of Sorcerers, a mysterious magic society, and has been happy in her quiet world of books. But after she unknowingly saves the life of one of the most powerful sorcerers of them all–the Crown Prince Aldrik–she finds herself enticed into his world. Now she must decide her future: Embrace her sorcery and leave the life she’s known, or eradicate her magic and remain as she’s always been. And with powerful forces lurking in the shadows, Vhalla’s indecision could cost her more than she ever imagined.

What. A. Mess. The internet has been talking about this book for years! Saying how much fun it is and how unique, how amazing the story is and how badass the main character is. The only negative thing I’ve ever heard about this book is that the main character isn’t white, yet the cover depicts her as so, and when authors generally have little to no influence over a cover I can’t fault them for it. (I absolutely can yell about it to the publisher, though, because in no way is it okay.) So yeah! I was excited about this book! Now I’m left wondering if I read the same book the rest of the internet did. 

GOODREADS

From the beginning it was clear Vhalla and I wouldn’t get along. She’s just not the type of character I like to read about. She has no drive, she has no reason to push the plot forward, and only wants things to stay the same. I get it from a realistic standpoint. If someone came up to you and said everything about you and your world as you know and understand it, yeah you’d be reluctant to change. But when the whole narrative revolves around her waiting around to make her decision, it’s boring. Especially when we know her decision. We know she’s going to say yes one way or another. It’s a series, she’s the main character, she’s not going to decide to stay in the library and kiss the sorcerer life away, or there’d be no point in the story at all. So a good portion of this book is just waiting around for her to make a decision. And by that I mean like 75% of the book. It’s poorly paced and Vhalla is not good at making decisions, and when she does she flipflops a lot. Among her poor decision skills is Love Interests. I know love polygons are big in YA, it’s part of the reason I’ve been shying away from it, but this was a bit ridiculous. She has three men interested in her, and I say men because two of them are five or six years older than her and it squicks me out. She just turned eighteen, that’s the equivalent of still being in high school, or just graduating, and her main love interest is twenty four. Imagine, you haven’t even figured out your college living situation and someone who has been out of college for A LEAST a year is fawning over you and pushing you off of buildings confessing how much they care about you. I’d highly advise you to run. Far. Yes, there’s a love interest her age, she’s known him for years but he’s the Poor Friendzoned BFF so of course he’s Bad for her. And of course childhood crush, who’s known as a heartbreaker, who takes any girl to his bed so long as they’re willing. This was more a poorly written romance than a fantasy, and you know how much I hate it when a book says it’s one thing and then turns out to be something else. You see that striked text up there? That’s our main love interest. Prince Aldrik. He’s Dark and Mysterious™, misunderstood, has a bad temper, and somehow he’s the one she falls for? They communicate by letters for a while in what’s probably the worst way to establish lore and worldbuilding I have ever seen, and when they meet up for real, he takes her down a dark hallway, up on to the roof and then pushes her off. She gets badly injured, to the point where she’s unconscious for a week, but it’s all okay because he feels Real Bad about it so she forgives him. They have picnics together and fall in love, but neither of them will admit their feelings and it’s painful and cringey and so poorly written. I hate everything about this romance, and it took up the majority of the book. I kept wondering what the big climax would be, I mean we know Vhalla is going to say yes, but what comes from that? Well like the rest of this book, the climax was not very climactic. People we met once before, who made a cryptic “see you soon ;)” speech, attacked the commonfolk and Vhalla went after them, and Aldrik after her. She does something big, but we don’t know what because she faints and forgets everything that happened. I’m serious, we miss the Big Fight because Vhalla fainted. This wasn’t even in the first person point of view, there was no reason for us to miss that! We get the confusion she does, but I had to look and make sure my copy wasn’t missing a section because of how badly it skipped around. One moment a sword was coming down, and the next Vhalla is unconscious on a stone floor and we have no idea why. Oh and she’s also being charged for treason. For some reason. Tension, I guess. Even when people are revealed to be bad, it doesn’t work because we never saw them before, it was all focused on Vhalla and her love life, so who is this Mysterious Man we’re supposed to hate? None of it made any sense. And the writing! Ugh! I get it, this is a debut author, but this could have used at least another round of edits. Never mind the overuse of adverbs and epithets, I expect that from new authors even if that writing style isn’t my jam. But poorly written sentences? Bad metaphors? Misuse of tenses? An editor should have caught that. Looking into this series as a whole, it looks like the author pushed the release of each book pretty quickly, with sequels coming out within months of each other, and it shows. This seems incredibly rushed and like they were trying to reach an assignment deadline ten minutes before midnight. Readers aren’t going to mind the wait if it means a better quality book! Put in the time and effort to really polish your work if you’re going to be published. It ties into treating your readers well. I’ve talked about it before, how certain authors can explicitly and plainly explain what’s going on in the narrative without talking down to readers. Lemony Snicket is usually the example I use. Kova is no Snicket. In one scene, Vhalla is scheming trying to figure out why they need her specifically and her magic, and when the conversation ends, the narrator stops and says “oh Vhalla did this for reasons we just explained and she has this much time to figure it all out, as stated two sentences ago” and it’s annoying, repetitive, and talks down to the reader, and I hate it. I hate this book. I can’t think of a single redeeming quality to this book. There’s no worldbuilding, no character I liked, there wasn’t even a character that was well rounded or even consistent. I don’t know how the magic works, I don’t know who the antagonists are, and I’m pretty sure there are racist undertones? It sounds like the people who attacked the commoners were the few dark skinned characters, and Vhalla clearly has some issues to work out with thinking her best friend would be prettier if his skin was lighter. And don’t get me started on the prejudice against sorcerers. I understand why it’s in the narrative, I’m not upset about that, but Vhalla yells at her friends for being mean to sorcerers when she had the same exact mindset a week prior. So. She’s a hypocrite too. I guess the idea behind the story is good? Except I’m not sure even what that is beyond people have elemental magic, and I mean that’s always a cool concept. This book was Bad, and I can’t believe I actually made it all the way through. If you want a similar vibe, but with better uh everything, try the Oran trilogy by Midori Snyder. It’s hard to find, but it’s a similar idea with royalty and elemental magic.

[thosedamnsmoshkids]

GHOST HUNTERS AU HEADCANONS

A series of headcanons to create an overarching universe for the Ghost Hunters. because legit i couldn't think of a fic. Everything's the same, except for Smosh started as a channel devoted to everything supernatural and mysterious. Ian and Anthony created it to discuss supernatural happenings. It later extended, and instead of just being a weekly a talk show hosted by Ian and Anthony, it branched out into Supernatural Investigation Channel, (Smoshernatural), run by the Games crew, and much later a True Crime channel, (Smosh True Crime), run by the quintessential Smosh squad. After Anthony left the company, Ian moved to work behind the scene. He frequently guest stars, but not as much as he used to. Smosh True Crime The True Crime gang consists of the Smosh Squad, but in a somewhat detective form. They write and produce episode independently of one another, and most people recognize the styles of each member. The channel has three different running shows, Conspiracy!, which is conspiracy theory show written, directed and hosted by Noah; The Lab, a show about crime scene investigation/clean up and such; as well as a Q&A show hosted by a rotating cast called Visiting Hours. There is a running event every April Fool’s where the channel releases a fake True Crime case that parodies their own style, and is focused on a joke made from one of their videos throughout the year. Some of these have been videos have been, Shayne’s gruesome murder following the destruction of Damien’s golden cat, (which in this instance was a cat totem that Damien keeps on his desk on the Smoshernatural version of ‘Visiting Hours’); a Video on the cryptid CFM, or the strange creature known as Courtney Freaking Miller; and a video on the ‘disappearance of Anthony’, which aired on the April Fool’s after he left the channel. Smoshernatural It was originally hosted by Ian, Anthony, Joven, Lasercorn, Sohinki and Mari, and they would go around to different locations investigating, and bonded as a group. After some time, it was whittled down to the group of four (Joven, Lasercorn, Sohinki and Mari), with the addition of Wes, who is their fearless cameraman who became popular within the fandom for literally never freaking out, no matter what creepy location they’re in. Boze and Damien ran their own channel that focused on the spiritual side of the supernatural. Their channel was bought by Smosh, and the two were added to the cast, which created a new element that the show had never had before. Damien’s a medium, and there have been several bits based around Boze making fun of him for it. Boze herself works with a more summoning aspect, and works with portals and ouija boards. The channel has three shows as well, with Smoshernatural being their main pull and focus. It follows the gang to different locations to look for evidence, and it usually ends with one of them trying to get themselves possessed. Cryptid Cases is hosted by Mari and Joven, and focuses in on all things alien, cryptid, and basically anything that’s not ghost oriented, (the set is often crashed by Lasercorn wearing a tinfoil hat). The final show is a slight copy of Visiting Hours, and acts as a Q&A for the Smoshernatural channel. Coroner’s Report is hosted mainly by Damien, but it almost always has guests. Miscellaneous Headcanons - Boze has called the ghosts ‘little bitches’ more than 40 times, her record in a single episode is 13. - Lasercorn is a member of the ‘Tin Foil Hat Club’, and in all of the alien Cryptid cases, he wears his green morph suit, a pair of alien sunglasses and a tinfoil hat that grows throughout the course of the episode. - The True Crime Squad and the Smoshernatural crew have switched channels once, and had each of the Smoshernatural kids produce a True Crime episode, while they sent the True Crime squad to Waverly Sanitorium, a place even Sohinki said creeped him out, for an investigation. Needless to say, those videos have scored highly among fans, though the squad has said that they would never do it again. - Sohinki holds the record for the most times asking to be possessed, which was used as the basis for an April Fool’s episode. - Despite the fact that Damien is a medium, Joven has actually had the most experience with ghosts. The house he grew up is, by his claims, is very haunted. He, and Damien, have confirmed that there are five ghosts that live on the property, which is a farmhouse that was owned by his great-grandparents. The ghosts in the house consist of a ghost cat, a ghost dog, both of Joven’s grandparent who passed in the house, and a soldier believed to have been buried on the property. Joven has claimed to have seen apparitions of all of these, most notably the soldier, who walks the grounds during storms, banging on the front door and back doors to try to get people to let him in. They have done an episode on the house, but only managed to get some sketchy audio recordings, though both Damien and Boze believe that there are presences in the house. - Wes is the fearless cameraman, and is one of the only people on the Smosh team, besides Noah, who doesn’t believe in ghosts. He says that he ‘got close’ to believing while they were at the Sallie House a few years back, but he blames it on the nervous energy that was in the air, and that fact that he was sick. - Shayne and Damien are best friends, and met on the set of a True Crime special that tried to solve old cases by talking to the dead. They remained friends afterwards, and Damien and Shayne were both featured on the other’s respective channel before Damien was hired by Smosh. - Courtney holds the current record for the most viewed video on the True Crime channel. She re-enacted the murder of a young starlet in a film noir style, compete with a grizzled narrator, and stunning visuals in black and white. Courtney was praised for her use of the color red, which accented the blood, the woman’s lipstick, her dress, the red of a stop sign, and a car. The whole endeavor took her three months. - Keith is known for his artistic, jagged style, and most of his videos are completely animated. He focuses on the deaths of artists, which is exemplified by the kinds of visuals and music he uses. His art style is well known, and has improved during the years he’s worked for the company. His first video, which was his first time animating, is now used as a meme in the fandom. - Though Mari believes in ghosts, cryptids are her real passion. She started Cryptid Cases, and is the main host, appearing in all of the videos, unlike Joven, who is switched out for other Smosh members who better suit the episode content, (aliens for Lasercorn, angels and light beings for Damien, the devil and demons for Boze). There is a running joke that Mari is secretly a shape shifting cryptid, due to several strange photos that the cast has taken over the years that don’t quite look like them, and in reality it’s actually Mari slowly learning their form to take their place. She has yet to deny this fact. - Unlike most of the cast, Noah is very into conspiracy theories, and follows the stories of the dark web very closely. He created his show, Conspiracy! to shine a light on some of these topics, and had released a few before his show was put on semi-hiatus. Noah has said that he created enough to take it off hiatus for the next few months, but that some of them could’ve gotten him in trouble because of where he got his information. He has brought on guests for a few episodes, but they’re mostly just Shayne, who also shares an interest in conspiracy theories. - Joven has had a ghost hit on him, twice. - One of the oldest and most beloved jokes of the fandom and the cast is the theory that Olivia might be an immortal. The joke started when a twitter user tweeted at Olivia with a photograph of her great-grandmother that looked strangely like her. Olivia replied with a very vague tweet that prompted the entirety of the fandom to start going through a deep dive, and actually found several other photos that looked like they could’ve been of Olivia. It has been referenced in several videos, but Olivia has said nothing helpful to her case when the topic comes up. - Sohinki is known for his love of mothman, and he has confirmed that he owns a mothman body pillow as well as several mothman t-shirts and at least one replica of the silver mothman statue. - Boze once had her phone go haywire after using an ouija board to curse someone through her phone. - Wes, in an episode of Coroner’s Report, has said that the scaredest he’s ever been was when they were filming an episode at a haunted cabin in Wisconsin, and that he believes there were eyes watching him in the woods. and that's kinda it so far. hopefully i'll add to this, and feel free to add some stuff yourself, or use it for a fic, i'd cry happy, happy tears. Housekeeping & General Announcements Crime Does Pay Chapter 11 will hopefully be up tommorow, Finals have been kicking my ASS. After this chapter, there's a possiblity there might be a slight week long hiatus while i work on the new project introduced below For those of you who saw, I was writing like a college/paranormal au thingy, and the first chapter of that is done, and there's a chance that it'll be uploaded if i can get the energy to edit it. and boy oh boy, we got damien the unwilling psychic, goth girl olivia, and really everything you want in a mystery thriller. The Five Part Serial, The Ghosts of Mayweather, Begins Tonight

[petuniatom]

Dangerous Animals || Tom Holland x Reader Mystery AU

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: In which you are an unsolved mystery enthusiast and when a murder happens in your own town, you don’t even know where to begin. It’s now up to you and your friends to uncover the truth.

Warnings: language probs, also mentions of death

A/N: welcome to the new & improved ch. 1 of “dangerous animals”

Series masterlist

Want to be on my tag list for this story?

You woke up that Friday morning much earlier than you were used to. Glancing back now, it feels almost like your body was warning you that something was coming, something unnatural for your city and for you all together. You should have paid more attention then, should have seen the signs before it all happened.

It was strange stirring in your bed at the time, only to hear the chirping birds outside your window as they greet the first burst of sunlight on the horizon instead of the quietness of the afternoon you usually hear. It was still fairly dim in your bedroom, and Tom — usually the early riser — wasn’t even up. You glanced over at the clock on your nightstand, noting the time of 6:03 a.m. that sits on its screen in red type. And while you want to go back to sleep, you know that you’re already up, and there’s no going back now.

So, you slid out of your bed, being careful not to wake up your boyfriend whose light snores were currently echoing around the room. He looked adorable, almost angelic, in between your white sheets. His hair is mussed and his face is void of any tension. It’s the last time you’ll see him this calm for a while.

You avoided that spot in your hardwood floor that usually creaks when someone approaches it, and slipped out of your bedroom. You decided to take a quick shower and once you saw a big red star marked on your calendar for the next day, you figured that a nice breakfast would help your boyfriend a lot. 

You whipped together some French toast, eggs, and breakfast potatoes, all of which you knew Tom favored in the mornings. When you finally wrapped up, your bedroom door swung open again and Tom stepped out. He had a confused expression across his face, which quickly disappeared once he laid eyes on you. 

“Morning darling,” he greeted, coming up to give you a quick peck on the lips. You smile and hand him a plate full of food. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know,” you replied, “but I was up anyway and I figured you needed it. Is it the short film you helped out with coming up?” 

He shook his head. “Nah, just a wedding video, but these are some fairly important clients that could lead to something bigger in the future. I told you that Harrison is filling in for me today?” 

You nod your head. “He knows what time we start?”

“I gave him the full brief of how things work and he knows to call if he has any problems.”

You let out a long sigh. “It’s gonna be weird without you. First pod you’re not there for.” He frowned and gave your hand a comforting squeeze.

“I know, love, but it’ll be great.”

*** 

Some people were interested in Greek mythology, others in science. Growing up, you were always worried when you didn’t quite find your niche thing to be obsessed about. While all the other kids talked about their love of horses or in Pokémon, you always tucked yourself in the back corner and buried yourself in a Nancy Drew book.

Soon, Nancy Drew and Scooby Doo turned into an obsession with Psych, Criminal Minds and Law & Order: SVU. You remembered when you were younger, how you laid across your floor to listen to Nancy Grace figure out more about the Casey Anthony trial. You’d obsessively scroll through Washington Post, CNN, and other news outlets’ justice or crime section. It wasn’t until you were older that you realized true crime was your hobby, your niche. 

So, you went to school and got a degree in journalism. And about halfway through your university career, you’d gone to a college party, gotten drunk, and started talking about the details of the Texas Killing Fields. Other people slowly floated away, becoming uninterested in the conversation and not understanding why you wanted to talk about something so horrific. Across the room, there was a girl who looked at you with pure excitement stretched across her face. She practically leaped over to you and said, “Tell me everything.”

About a year later, you and her became best friends. Her name was Zendaya Coleman, different than yours, but you were pretty sure she was a carbon copy of you otherwise. You’d watch Psych together, and then rewatch it over and over again once the series ended. Other times, you’d stay up late and watch documentaries about unsolved cases and general ones centered on the justice department. 

One day, you had a broadcast journalism cast final you needed help with in terms of filming. You’d been recommended Tom in passing conversation for help, and soon, you met him for coffee and told him all the ideas you had. (At the time, you hadn’t noticed the sudden glimmer in his eye when he looked at you. It wouldn’t be for a few more months that you would.) When he came over to your house later that week, you finished the project together, with Zendaya co-anchoring, and celebrated its completion over wine.  

When both you and Z went into your usual drunk talk about unsolved cases, Tom looked at the two of you with interest and then spit out, “Holy shit, have you guys ever thought of making this a podcast?”

And now, nearly three years later, a drunk idea led to success you never could dream about. It took you a while to actually kick off the podcast — two years after that fateful night. Now, a year into the whole gig, your podcast was consistently in the top 50 on the iTunes charts, and you had a whole fan base that always engaged with you on all social media.

You hosted it with Zendaya once a week. Episodes usually ranged for about an hour and a half, filled with your dialogue surrounding situations with serial killers or cults. Tom worked as the quiet producer, who always sat silently in the corner to make sure your microphones were consistently operating at the level they should be. 

It was a nice way to live. You had a flexible schedule, and though you had plans for an upcoming tour, you could all stay in your respective homes within your quiet town. 

When the knock came at your door that day, you took a quick peek through the peephole in your door, smiling when you saw your best friend on the other side. You swung the door open, immediately greeting her with a hug. 

“Hey Z,” you greeted. You opened the door wider, noticing she had a bag in hand. 

“I went to Cheesecake Factory earlier, and you know I hella brought cheesecake back,” she said. She plopped the bag on your table. You opened the bag, a smile coming to your face when you saw the slice of Oreo cheesecake she bought for you. You thanked her, shuffling around your drawers and cabinets for plates and cutlery. When you returned with the proper dishware, you noticed the off expression on your friend’s face. She was looking around thoughtfully, like something wasn’t quite sitting right with her.

“What’s up?” you asked, passing the plate over. She pulled out her own slice of cheesecake from the bag. 

“I think this is the first time I’ve come to your home and Tom hasn’t been here,” she joked. “Even when we’re not recording, he’s almost always here.” You laughed at the observation. 

“He actually chose to go to his home today. He’s got a big deadline coming up this weekend, and said I was ‘too distracting.’” You pulled out the air quotes at the end, and Zendaya rolled her eyes playfully.

“Boy needs to learn to keep his dick in his pants,” she teased, taking a bite out of her cheesecake. “But if Tom isn’t here, who’s gonna be the sound guy?” You bit your lip.

“Okay, so hear me out,” you said, raising up your hands already defensive. Zendaya deadpanned.

“Please tell me Tom didn’t hire Colton Lancaster,” she begged. You narrowed your eyes.

“What? No, ew.” She let out a sigh of relief. “Why would you even—“ 

“He’s the only other audio guy I know in town! His news podcast is a little bit boring content wise, but he’s got some nice audio going.” You giggled and shook your head. 

“Nah, apparently, Harrison has audio experience.” Zendaya raised her eyebrows.

“Quiet one? Stutters when he does talk?” You laughed.

“He was only nervous because he thinks you’re cute! But yeah, him. Tom told me when they did theater together back in high school he was always the sound guy before he made his debut on the stage.”

“Oooh okay Harrison, I see you. When is he coming?” You checked your watch. 

“He said he’s going to run a little bit late, but he should be here in about three more minutes.”

As if you summoned him yourself, the doorbell rang. You glanced at the door, then back at your friend, “Or maybe right now.”

You strode over to the door again, swinging it open and greeting the man of the hour. Harrison looked a little bit lost as he stepped into the foyer of your home. He had a backpack slung on his back and his hands were digging in his pockets.

“Hey Harrison,” Zendaya called out. “You like cheesecake?” Harrison blushed slightly.

“Uh, hey Zendaya. And uh, yeah, I do…” He looked back over at you, seeking some reassurance. You gave him a nod.

In truth, you still didn’t know Harrison that well, despite dating his roommate for a little over two years at this point and seeing him more than a handful of times. Yet, you still considered him a good friend, and Tom told you Harrison thought the same of you. Maybe you weren’t knowledgeable on the intimate details of his life, but you understood him and his quietness. And most of all, you respected each other.

“Zendaya bought some from Cheesecake Factory,” you explained, as you stepped into your main dining area.

“You can have the other half of my slice,” Zendaya offered. “I’m stuffed.”

“Oh, thanks,” Harrison replied. “I should probably start on getting you lot set up though.”

Zendaya waved it off and said, “No rush.” He shot you a look, silently asking for your permission.

“Yeah, c’mon Harrison, hang out with us for a bit. We’re just chatting.” 

With that, he smiled, plopped in the chair next to Zendaya, and started eating the cheesecake she offered him. 

“So, what’s the tea in your life, Harrison?” you asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” 

“Anything exciting going on? New shows you’re involved in?” He shook his head. 

“Just summer classes, lots of studying. I work at Soul Cycle, which is laid back.” He shrugged, then seemed to mull over something. “Though, we did have a couple arguing today in the shop. Don’t know about what, but it’s the most exciting thing to happen in there in a week.”

“That’s the trinket shop on the east side of town right?” Zendaya asked. Harrison nodded his head.

“Very small, but pays well.” Zendaya looked at you pointedly.

“We need to go there.” 

You let out a short laugh. “Why?”

“They have crystals! With all the shit that we talk, we probably need to cleanse our energies,” Zendaya insisted. “Besides, we can see Haz.” 

He blushed at the nickname and you tried to hold back a smile.

“It’s not a bad idea,” he murmured. Zendaya gave you an “I-told-you-so” look. “Really, I never used to believe in any of that. Always thought it was rubbish, but then Madame Auboin changed my life around.” He shrugged. “You never quite know what’ll happen to you. Best to take some preventative measures to make sure you’re keeping all of that out.”

And so finally, you agreed to go with Z and Harrison after enough convincing. Besides, everyone in town loved the owner, Diane Auboin.

After more conversation and eating, you finally went into your spare room that acted as your recording studio. Harrison sat at the computer, prepping everything up in the room, while you went over your unsolved crime again silently in your head and scrolled through the main talking points on your phone.

He gave you both the cue to start and you gave the introduction. “Welcome to ‘Anatomy of a Murder,’ where we dissect all the creepy shit serial killers pull so you don’t have to. Because let’s face it, it’s hard balancing work life with fighting off creeps.”

You were about halfway through the show when your phone started ringing loudly. Zendaya stopped mid-sentence and asked, “Did you forget to put your phone on Do Not Disturb?”

You shook your head. “Um, no, it’s Tom actually. He knows we’re recording, so he wouldn’t call unless something’s up. 

Harrison pressed the stop recording button on the computer and you picked up the phone.

��Hey babe, you okay?” you asked, stepping out of the room.

“Oh, Y/N, thank God. You’re at home, right? Harrison and Zendaya are still with you?” he asked. There was traces of panic in his voice and you grew more concerned. 

“Yeah… why? What’s going on?”

“Stay put, I’m on my way to your house right now. Don’t move, okay darling?” 

“I won’t,” you promised, hanging up. You stepped back into the recording studio. “Tom just did the weirdest—” 

But you stopped speaking when you saw their facial expressions. They were both staring in horror out of something on Zendaya’s phone. They both looked up at you and you saw Harrison visibly gulp.

“What’s up?” you inquired. Zendaya looked up at Harrison, then back at you, clearly at a complete loss at words.

Finally, she spoke, “They found a body out by Kinakee Lake. Well, two actually.” 

She passed you the phone and you saw a photograph of police vans over by the lake on the outskirts of the city limits. The headline read, “Two found dead at Kinakee Lake,” and naturally, had Colton Lancaster’s byline.

You heard the door ring and swallowed, passing the phone back over. “That has to be Tom,” you said.

You usually check the peephole before you open the door, but in your pure panic and eagerness to see your boyfriend, you neglected to do so. So, you swung the door open again that day, shocked when you saw a man and a woman standing at your front door with police badges adorning their suits.

“Are you Y/N Y/L/N?” the female officer asked.

“Yes, that would be me,” you answered.

“You’re wanted at the police station for questioning over two bodies recently discovered at Kinakee Lake.”

[authoressskr]

Misery Business

Pairing: Dean x Reader  ++  Warnings: Language, Mentions of cheating, Lisa Braden (Does that count?)  ++  Word Count: 1712

This was written for @idreamofhazel Hazel’s Throwback Challenge. My given song was: Misery Business by Paramore.

Note: Do NOT repost, copy and paste, post or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS PERMISSION. -+- REBLOGGING is fine! -+-

A/N: I rewrote this twice. This is the version that sucked less. Enjoy! 

When she’d left home for college on the west coast, she had kissed him in the airport, stunning not only himself but their combined families.

“Couldn’t leave without doing that.” Her smile was infectious - making a slow, wide one creep onto his face to mirror hers before his big hands came up to cup her face and pull her into a deeper kiss, ignoring the loud coughing of her dad at this development.

“That’s how you kiss someone goodbye, kiddo.”

“Noted.” Licking her lips, her eyes shifted over to Sam with a promising smirk. “Wanna say goodbye to me too Sam?” Dean’s lips were on her again, firm and chaste as his arms pulled her tight against him.

“Don’t even think about it, Sammy,” Dean muttered afterward, Sam rolling his eyes as Dean released her - watching her hug his parents and then her own as she fought back tears.

“I’ll see you guys at Christmas for sure.” She promised before handing her ticket to the clerk and with a short wave, boarded the plane and flew off to her new adventure.

---

When she’d come home for Christmas, her bright eyes landing on him as Dean entered the house for dinner that night - having been dreaming of coming back and falling into his arms - was suddenly dashed as he tugged a petite brunette into the house behind him. His eyes had dropped when they’d met your own, slightly ashamed. Turning promptly around and heading back into the safety of the kitchen, you ignore your mother’s questioning looks, simply pointing to the living room as you tug on your snow boots and then grab your heavy jacket, fighting back tears once more.

“When I thought he was mine, she caught him by the mouth.” You mutter to yourself, heading towards your best friend’s house as the tears finally slipped down your cheeks.

---

She’d gone without saying goodbye.

Hadn’t even answered his texts or calls.

He didn’t mean to...Lisa just came into the shop one day. And the one night stand turned into a few times a week sex and then into something else.

Sex with Lisa was good. Really good. But, Jesus, dealing with Lisa had been an experience. Dean couldn’t blame her for liking the nicer things. He liked nice things too, but, the shit she was always pointing out constantly - Dean couldn’t even hope to afford at this point in his life. A few weeks later, she suddenly wants him to move in with her and her five-year-old son, Ben. They’d compromised by him spending Friday through Monday at her condo, which was nice at first.

Everything was nice at first.

Then it evolved into subtly dropped hints that her grandfather’s factory needed some help. And “Besides, you don’t want to work as a mechanic forever, Dean,” mentioned a few times.

That morphed into “Granddaddy said he’d be willing to bump you straight to a supervisor since you’re taking care of his baby and Ben.” Three months later: “I don’t see why you won’t take it, Dean. It’s more than generous. Being a mechanic will never pay you as well as this will” and finally to “You’ve only been staying with me because you got attached to BEN?! I can’t believe you, Winchester! I am NOT money hungry! I want a lifestyle, Dean. One you’ll never man up and provide me and Ben with. Get your shit and get out, please.”

Pretty fucking harsh words from a woman who cheated on him...

---

When his kiddo finally came back home again, she’d granted him one wary look at the airport arrival gates before dropping her worn, purple carry-on and wrapping her mom in a crushing hug. Dean could hear her say how much she missed home and them as she reached out to repeat the process with her dad. Giving everyone else a bright, but slightly watery smile, she linked arms with her mom as they all left shuffled out of the airport.

After they’d all eaten lunch, she’d gone upstairs to take a short nap - hoping to help rid her body a little of the Dramamine she’d needed to down to combat the motion sickness. When his sharp ears had heard her moving around upstairs, he headed up. Pausing a second to take a deep breath, Dean knocked on her bedroom door.

“Got a minute, kiddo?”

“Sure.” Her body language said she clearly didn’t want to speak with him, but Dean wanted - no, needed - to lay everything out for her. Best to start simple though...

“How was school?”

“Fine. I took an extra class and it kicked my ass.”

“Don’t overdo it, princess.” Dean shook his head with a wry smile. “And don’t try to compete with Sam. Dude was born an overachiever.” Okay, she’s smiling - now or never. “I, uh, I broke it off with Lisa.” She just raised an eyebrow before looking down, fiddling with the throw tossed over her legs.

“I can’t lie to save my life Dean, you know that.” Nodding, even though she isn’t looking, trying to guess at what she was going to say next as he attempts to calm the sudden rapid beating of his heart. “You’re the only one for me.”

“Oh, thank fuck.” Lunging forward, hands pulling her as close as possible while lips molded to lips. “Same, kiddo, same.” Dean smiled, stupidly happy at the best outcome he could’ve hoped for.

---

You’d transferred schools after that, deciding that the University of Kansas, Lawrence was just as good - grumbling in defeat that yes, your father had been right. Yes, dad, it was easier to be at home. Yes, dad, I should have listened to you initially. And cue good-natured eye roll.

When you’d been in Oregon, you had kept mostly to yourself. Your days consisted of going to your classes, going to the library and then going to your dorm room. Which was usually empty due to your hippie-light roommate, Paisley, crashing at her brother’s apartment nearly every evening. However, being that alone had made your homesickness at least double, so transferring had been an easy decision. Did dating Dean significantly added to the ease of that choice? Yes.

You had waited until your semester was up to switch schools, which had been a long three months. And to celebrate getting everything signed over, you were having lunch with Dean at Lafitte’s Bar and Grill, close to his dad’s mechanic shop. After you two ordered, you saw Charlie - part-time bartender and lifelong friend - behind the bar, excusing yourself to chat with her until the food arrived.

That’s when Lisa sauntered in, her eyes almost immediately landed on Dean, raking over the snug heather gray shirt (the one you’d bought him) that fit oh-so-nicely. You were leaning against the bar when she’s nodded her bright red-head towards where Dean sat. Quirking your head to one side before turning your eyes widen to a near-comical level. Well damn, you had to give Lisa one thing - she had balls to chat up the very loving, very loyal man whom she cheated on.

“Long time, no see,” She cooed behind him, placing a tanned hand on his strong shoulder as he turned, his food-lust-filled gaze at the arrival of his burger snapped quickly to tight and uneasy.

“Lisa! Uh, yeah. Long time.”

“You know, Dean, I’ve missed you.” Oh, you bet your sweet ass she did. You thought as you pushed away from the bar and eased up behind her.

“I’m seeing someone.” Dean shuts her down, giving the burger that’d just been placed before him a long look at it that made you smile.

“We don’t even deserve a second chance?” Dean’s mouth opens, but he doesn’t get the chance to answer.

“Second chances they don't ever matter, people never change. Once a whore, you're nothing more, I'm sorry that'll never change.” She whipped around to face you, her three necklaces tangling in her hair as her eyes burned into your furiously.

“What did you say to me?!”

“Well, there's a million other girls who do it just like you, you know? Looking as innocent as possible to get to who they want and what they like. But you fucked up and suck your fingers in too many pies, Lisa. You had Dean Winchester, a grumpy teddy bear of a man whose loyalty knows no bounds, and you decided that wasn’t enough?”

“You know what, little girl? You’re a class A bitch!”

“But God, does it feel so good!” You call after Lisa as she storms out, sitting down across from Dean with the smuggest of smug grins on tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Benny!” Dean calls over his shoulder. “Box!”

“What are you doing?”

“You verbally handed Lisa her ass. I’m taking you home to fuck you senseless for everything you just said.” Benny appears from the kitchen, tossing Dean a box with a shake of his head and a deep chuckle. “Don’t drop this.” Dean shoves the box into your hands as you wrinkle your forehead. Why would he want you to - oof! He tossed you over his shoulder, earning a startled cry and then an eye roll as he waved to Benny and Charlie. “Add it to my tab!”

He sets you down more gently in the passenger seat of his ‘67 Impala than you thought he would, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before closing the door with a crooked smile gracing his handsome face. Once he’s slid in, the key in the ignition, he stops to look over at you with all the adoration and love you’d glimpsed a handful of times before.

“What?” Your voice is soft, searching his face for some hint.

“You. You make all my wildest dreams come true.”

“I never meant to brag, buuuuuut - ya know - I am the complete package.” You slide over until you’re pressed firmly against his warm side, his emerald eyes are so bright and, at the same time, so soft as they lock with your own. “Wanna go make some more of your wildest dreams come true?”

“Fuck yeah, baby.” He manages to get out prior to your lips meeting for a quick, hot kiss - the car rumbling to life before he pointed her towards his apartment.

Tagging: @lucis-unicorn @chelsea072498 @clockworkmorningglory @sakurablossom4 @idreamofhazel

[spletch574]

Mask art research

1. Gillian Wearing, Confess All On Video. Don’t Worry You Will Be in Disguise. Intrigued? Call Gillian Version II, 1994

Confess All On Video. Don’t Worry You Will Be in Disguise. Intrigued? Call Gillian Version II is a colour video lasting slightly under thirty-six minutes that features ten scenes, each showing a disguised person telling a secret in an unedited monologue. All of the speakers are depicted from the shoulders upwards and are heavily lit, so that their strong shadow is projected onto a white wall behind them. In some cases they gaze directly at the camera, while in others they look away. The individuals’ disguises vary in character – some entirely cover their faces with masks, while others wear wigs and other accoutrements, such as sunglasses and a fake beard, but leave their faces wholly or partly visible. The costume elements look cheap and somewhat exaggerated, with the wigs generally being large and the masks sometimes appearing cartoon-like. The confessions vary in length and content and have loose structures, suggestive of improvisation. All relate to sexual acts, crimes or acts of revenge: for example, two speakers discuss experiences of sleeping with prostitutes and one talks about stealing a computer from a school. The voice of an interviewer is heard just once during the work, asking one of the speakers their age.

This is the second version of a work of the same name that was originally produced by the British artist Gillian Wearing in London in 1994. Wearing began the project by placing an advertisement in the magazine Time Out that contained the text that makes up its title (minus the appended ‘Version II’). When respondents met Wearing, she supplied them with a range of costume elements, allowing them to construct a disguise. She then filmed them relating a secret in whatever way they chose. Originally shot in Betacam format, the video was edited and then transferred onto VHS tape. In 1997 Wearing re-edited the work to produce this second version, partly because the sound had deteriorated during the transfer to VHS and partly because during the initial edit she had cut down two of the confessions and she subsequently decided to feature them all at full length, with the result being that the second version is approximately six minutes longer than the first. This later version is considered ‘unique’ in that it was not released as part of an edition, and Tate also owns one copy of the 1994 original, which was produced in an edition of ten. When exhibited, the work must be shown on a television monitor in a relatively small space measuring approximately 3 x 3 metres, with some form of seating provided, preferably a sofa.

The title of this work primarily makes reference to the advertisement Wearing used to attract participants, emphasising the fact that the speakers actively chose to contact the artist and appear in her video. 

The curator Russell Ferguson has argued that this work simultaneously involves an ‘uncomfortable’ level of intimacy and a feeling that ‘we have heard nothing we can be sure of’, since the speakers could be performing for the camera or simply lying (Russell Ferguson, ‘Show Your Emotions’, in De Salvo, Wearing, Ferguson and others 1999, p.36). Regarding the possibility that the speakers might somehow be performing in this work, Wearing stated in 1997 that ‘I noticed that they had taken time to mull over what they were going to say. One or two actually brought pieces of paper to prompt themselves. Things were set up, and it was ... ambiguous – that is where the art or the fiction came in’ (Wearing in Turner 1998, accessed 2 June 2015).

Further reading Grady T. Turner, ‘Gillian Wearing’, Bomb, no.63, Spring 1998, http://bombmagazine.org/article/2129/gillian-wearing, accessed 2 June 2015.

2., 3., 4., 5. Cindy Sherman, Untitled A, B, C, D, 1975

Untitled A, B, C and D belong to a more extensive series of photographs Sherman made while she was studying art at the State University College at Buffalo, New York (1972-6). She selected five images from the series and arbitrarily labelled them A to E. They were enlarged and reprinted in editions of ten. Sherman has explained the origins of this Untitled series:

These images were from a series of head shots that I made to show the process of turning one character into another. At that time I was merely interested in the use of make-up on a face as paint used on a blank canvas. I was experimenting with several types of characters – i.e. starting with an old person who then gradually became a drag queen. While the original series showed the entire process (about fifty 3” x 5” photos), later I chose a smaller group to make into slightly larger separate pieces. I unintentionally shot them with a very narrow depth of field, leaving only certain parts of the face in focus, which gives some of the features [a] malleable quality.

(Quoted in Contemporary Art, p.98.)

Sherman initially studied painting at Buffalo, making self-portraits and realistic copies of images she found in magazines and photographs. She began using photography after being introduced to Conceptual art by a teacher who inspired her to bring her childhood activities and obsessions into her work. She has said that as a child she was introverted, adding that ‘as a girl I used to always enjoy dressing up and being made-up. A lot of girls might like to look like their moms, but I would try to look like a monster or an old lady. Maybe I could have been an actress.’ (Quoted in Paul Taylor, ‘Cindy Sherman’, Flash Art, no.124, Oct. – Nov. 1985, p.78.) In this series of images Sherman combined painting (on her face) with photographic portraiture, assuming the personae of three female characters of different ages and one male. Variations in hairstyle and the use of hats in two of the photographs are the only props used. Below the chin the artist is bare. Two pale lines running down from either side of her neck, the result of being in the sun in a halterneck top, are clearly visible in each image and emphasise the theatricality of the work. The character in Untitled A wears a crocheted hat and has the most obvious make-up. Her dark eye-liner and lipstick, accompanied by heavy rouge just under her cheekbones to thin her face, suggest a woman in her thirties. Her submissive smile and the angle at which her head is tilted convey the sense of someone shy and anxious to please. The character in Untitled B, who is male, has joined-up eyebrows, and darkening under his eyes and chin and between his nose and mouth. For this image Sherman wore a cloth cap and pulled her chin into her neck to give the character a genial, comic air. The character in Untitled C has the least facial darkening. Her makeup mainly consists of thick mascara on her eyelashes, contributing to the wide-eyed innocent look she aims at the viewer from under her fringe. She appears only marginally older than the character in Untitled D, whose hair is held back with a pair of butterfly grips. For this pose Sherman darkened her face between the eyes, under the chin and in a line between her nose and the edges of her mouth. In all the images, Sherman has combined evident staging with the successful portrayal of a character type. This was later to become the artist’s signature technique, permitting her to evoke a wide range of emotional and thematic registers. Bus Riders 1976  is a series of photographs Sherman made shortly after leaving college, before she moved to New York and made her famous series of Untitled Film Stills 1977-80.

6. René Magritte, The Future of Statues, 1937

This work is made from a plaster copy of the death mask of the French Emperor Napoleon. A death mask is made by placing a mixture of plaster or wax over a person's face once they have died to create a mould. Magritte painted at least five of these casts, each with sky and clouds. The artist’s friend the surrealist poet Paul Nougé suggested an association between death, dreams and the depth of the sky. He commented: ‘a patch of sky traversed by clouds and dreams [can] transfigure the very face of death in a totally unexpected way’.

7., 8. John Stezaker, Mask XIII and Mask XIV, 2006

Mask XIII is a collage created by superimposing a postcard on a black and white photograph. The photograph is a film publicity portrait of an unidentifiable actress taken during the 1940s or 1950s. The postcard is a colour print mounted upside down over the actress’s face. It shows an image of a ruined stone building partially surrounded by trees. Stezaker has positioned it so that the inverted building appears framed within the actress’s face: the edge of the building matches the actress’s hairline at the right side of her face and a tree trunk and branches continuing the line of her face’s left side. Dark areas of foliage either side of the building align with her dark hair. A second tree in front of the ruin extends down the image to connect with the woman’s hand which is raised to her chin emerging from a narrow section of sky at the top of the postcard. At the bottom of the postcard, which traverses the subject’s forehead, the inverted caption ‘Nîmes – Le Temple de Diane’ identifies the ruin as the temple of Diana at Nîmes in France. The form of the inverted temple and its positioning over the woman’s face have the effect of evoking a skull: three rounded arches leading into darker spaces suggesting eye and nose-sockets and the broken upper edge of the ruin drawing the line of a broken and toothless jaw.

Mask XIV is a collage created by superimposing a postcard on a black and white photograph. The photograph is a film publicity portrait of an unidentifiable actor taken during the 1940s or 1950s. The postcard is a colour image mounted over the actor’s face. It shows a rocky cavern in which a sandy track curves around a central pillar. On the bottom left the card is captioned ‘Zig zag path, Folkestone’. At this point it covers part of the actor’s signature on his portrait above his right shoulder. Part of his first name – ‘Barry’ – is visible on the print. The postcard photograph appears to have been taken from inside a cave or under a bridge looking out through two openings towards the light. Stezaker has positioned the card on the actor’s face so that the dark silhouette of the rocky openings and the curvature of the cavern line up with the contours of the actor’s face. This placement causes an anthropomorphic reading of the postcard image – the two openings to the light suggest eyes connected by the rocky central column which covers the actor’s face in the position of his nose. Initiated around 1980, the series of Mask collages developed from the Film Still collages, such as The Trial, The Oath and Insert. The Masks all follow a similar and deceptively simple format: a film publicity portrait of a star whose face is covered by a postcard – ostensibly a mask – which opens a window into another space, paradoxically suggesting a view behind the mask constituted by the actor’s face. Initially the postcards were images of bridges and caves which in some instances united two or more protagonists. Over the years Stezaker has extended his range of imagery to include tunnels, caverns, rock formations such as stalactites and stalagmites, railway tracks, historic ruins and monuments (as in Mask XIII, 2006), woodland clearings and paths, as well as streams, waterfalls (as in Mask XI, 2005), lakes and the sea. Stezaker began collecting film stills in 1973 but was not able to afford photographic portraits of film stars until the early 1980s when their price dropped. The first portraits the artist used were damaged or of forgotten film actors, unnamed and anonymous. He has commented:

The Masks were inspired by reading Elias Canetti’s essay on masks and unmasking in his wonderful book Crowds and Power which inspired so much of my work at this time ... I was also teaching a course on Bataille and the origins of art which focused on the mask as the origin and point of convergence of all the arts. Canetti’s idea of the mask as a covering of absence and, in its fixity, as a revelation of death, alongside my discovery of Blanchot’s Space of Literature, was an important turning point in my thinking and in my approach to my work. I usually think of the key dates being 1979 and 1980 as marking a yielding to pure image-fascination and as a release from any function societal or transgressive in the work. The Masks were a response in practice to the Canetti/Blanchot idea of the ‘death’s space’ of the image and consolidated the sense of pure fascination and the desire for ‘exile from life in the world of images’, an ideal I saw in the practice of Joseph Cornell.

(Letter to the author, 26 October 2007.)

Stezaker shares with Joseph Cornell (1903-72) the Surrealist technique of apparently irrational juxtaposition and the evocation of nostalgia through his focus on outdated imagery, collected and pondered over many years. While Stezaker’s use of film stills and publicity portraits of the 1940s and 1950s stems from his boyhood experience of encountering these images on the outside of cinemas advertising films from which he was excluded because of his youth (letter to the author, 26 October 2007), his choice of postcards tends towards the Romantic tradition of nature and the sublime. The image of the zig-zag path relates to the woodland path or holzweg, a path leading – in German folklore such as that published by the Brothers Grimm in the early years of the twentieth century – to possible danger and death. Stezaker became interested in the historical phenomenon of the holzweg through his reading of Landscape and Memory (published New York, 1995) by the British art historian, Simon Schama (born 1945). The artist’s juxtaposition and careful alignment of the postcard image with the publicity portrait create an effect related to the concept of the uncanny as described by Sigmund Freud (1856-1939) in his 1925 essay, ‘The Uncanny’. Freud analysed the feeling of the uncanny aroused most forcefully by the fantastic stories of the Romantic writer E.T.A. Hoffmann (1776-1822), in particular his tale The Sandman (first published in Nachtstücke, 1817). He relates the sense of horror experienced by the protagonist Nathaniel not only to the mechanical doll Olympia, who appears real, but more significantly to a fear of losing ones eyes which he connects to the Oedipal castration complex. In the Masks the subjects’ eyes are covered; the collage intervention substitutes blankness or holes – dark and empty or leading into other spaces – creating the disturbing sensation of seeing death beneath the features of a living being.

[blackkudos]

Babyface

Kenneth Brian Edmonds (born April 10, 1959), known professionally as Babyface, is an American singer, songwriter and record producer. He has written and produced over 26 number-one R&B hits throughout his career, and has won 11 Grammy Awards.

Early life

Edmonds was born on April 10, 1959, in Indianapolis, Indiana,to Marvin and Barbara Edmonds. Barbara was a production operator at a pharmaceutical plant. Edmonds, who is the fifth of six brothers (including future After 7 band members Melvin and Kevon Edmonds, the latter of whom went on to have a modestly successful solo career), attended North Central High School in Indianapolis, Indiana, and as a shy youth, wrote songs to express his emotions. When he was in eighth grade, Edmonds' father died of lung cancer, leaving his mother to raise her sons alone. At this stage, Edmonds became determined to have a career in music.

Music career

Edmonds later played with funk performer Bootsy Collins, who tagged him "Babyface" because of his youthful look. He also performed in the group Manchild (which had a 1977 hit "Especially for You" with band member Daryl Simmons) as a guitarist. He played keyboards in the light-funk and R&B group the Deele (which also included drummer Antonio "L.A." Reid, with whom he would later form a successful writing and producing partnership). One of his first major credits as a songwriter for outside artists came when he wrote the tune "Slow Jam" for the R&B band Midnight Star in 1983. The tune was on Midnight Star's 1983 double-platinum No Parking on the Dance Floor album, and while it never was a single, it received massive radio airplay and the song is still played on quiet storm radio stations. Babyface remained in the Deele until 1988, when both he and Reid left the group.

His album Playlist consists of eight cover songs and two original works. It was released on September 18, 2007. It was the first album on the newly re-launched Mercury Records label.

On February 4, 2014, he released a Grammy Award-winning duet album with Toni Braxton titled Love, Marriage & Divorce on Motown Records.

Other ventures

Writing and producing

In the late 1980s, he contributed to the creation of new jack swing, writing and producing music for the likes of Bobby Brown, Karyn White, Pebbles, Paula Abdul and Sheena Easton.

In 1989, Edmonds co-founded LaFace Records with Reid. Three of the label's early artists TLC, Usher, and Toni Braxton were very successful. TLC's second album CrazySexyCool, for which he wrote and produced some of the hits, became the best selling album of all time by an American girl group. Under his direction, TLC was able to sell more than 60 million albums worldwide, and a combined total of 75 million records. Toni Braxton's first two albums, Toni Braxton (1993) and Secrets (1996), for which he wrote the majority of the songs, went on to sell a combined total of over 10 million copies in America alone.

Babyface helped form the popular late-1990s R&B group Az Yet. Edmonds also helped to mold and work with some of his then-wife Tracey Edmonds' acts, such as Jon B and producer Jon-John Robinson.

Edmonds has worked with many successful performers in contemporary music. “I’m Your Baby Tonight” (1990), produced for Whitney Houston, was his first No. 1 Top 40 hit in the US. He also wrote and produced Boyz II Men's 1992 "End of the Road" and 1994 "I'll Make Love to You", both of which established records for the longest stay at No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart. He co-wrote, co-produced, and provided backing vocals on Madonna's 1994 Bedtime Stories, which featured the seven-week No. 1 hit "Take a Bow", and shared billing with Eric Clapton on the chart-topping Grammy winner "Change the World" from the Phenomenon soundtrack. He also wrote and produced the No. 1 hit "Exhale (Shoop Shoop)" for Whitney Houston as well as the rest of the critically acclaimed 10 million-selling Waiting to Exhale soundtrack in 1995, which spawned additional hits for Houston, Brandy and Mary J. Blige.

Additionally, Edmonds has produced and written music for many artists including Carole King, Patti LaBelle, Chaka Khan, Aretha Franklin, Madonna, Janet Jackson, Faith Evans, Al Green, Beyoncé, Diana Ross, Sheena Easton, Toni Braxton, Michael Jackson, Michael Bolton, Paula Abdul, Eric Clapton, Pebbles, Tevin Campbell, Bobby Brown, Whitney Houston, Brandy, Mary J. Blige, Tamia, Shola Ama, 3T, Sisqó, Dru Hill, Fall Out Boy, Céline Dion, Samantha Jade, Backstreet Boys, Honeyz, Katharine McPhee, Mariah Carey, Vanessa L. Williams, Chanté Moore, En Vogue, Zendaya, Kenny G, Kristinia DeBarge, Lil Wayne, Japanese singer Ken Hirai, P!nk, Colbie Caillat, Marc Nelson, TLC, Ariana Grande, Ella Henderson, Jessica Mauboy, Xscape, K-Ci & JoJo, NSYNC, and Phil Collins among others. He received three consecutive Grammy Awards for Producer of the Year from 1995 to 1997.

Babyface was in the studio for about two years with Ashanti to produce her album The Declaration (2008).

He worked on the Lil Wayne album Tha Carter III (2008), on the Kanye West-produced "Comfortable". He also worked with R&B singer Monica for her sixth studio album Still Standing (2010).

In 2013, Babyface served as producer for Ariana Grande's debut album Yours Truly, producing the majority of her songs, including her second single, "Baby I".

In September 2014, Babyface collaborated with Barbra Streisand on her album Partners, performing a duet on the track "Evergreen" and background vocals for other album tracks.

Babyface also collaborated with Foxes on her sophomore album, All I Need (2016), producing and co-writing "Scar".

In July 2016, Babyface along with Bruce Roberts and Carole Bayer Sager helped write the song, "Stronger Together" sung by Jessica Sanchez. The song was played after Hillary Clinton's speech at the 2016 Democratic National Convention. The song's title is named after the slogan that the Clinton campaign uses as a show of uniting behind the Democratic nominee. The song was one of the top trending songs on Shazam that week. The song was widely perceived as positive by the listeners, and even received praise by celebrities like Jennifer Lopez and Kim Kardashian.

Acting career and film producing

In 1994, he appeared and performed on an episode of Beverly Hills, 90210 entitled "Mr. Walsh Goes to Washington (Part 2)".

In the mid-1990s, Edmonds and his then-wife Tracey Edmonds expanded into the business of motion pictures, setting up Edmonds Entertainment Group and producing films such as Soul Food (1997), Josie and the Pussycats (2001), and also the soundtrack for the film The Prince of Egypt (1998), which included contributions from numerous artists, including Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston. They also executive produced the BET reality series College Hill (2004-2009). Edmonds also worked with David Foster to compose "The Power of the Dream", the official song of the 1996 Summer Olympics, performed by superstar Céline Dion. Linda Thompson provided the lyrics.

Babyface also participated as a duet partner on the Fox reality show Celebrity Duets (2006).

He was portrayed by Wesley Jonathan in the 2015 Lifetime biopic Whitney and is portrayed by actor Gavin Houston in the Lifetime biopic based on Toni Braxton entitled Un-Break My Heart, which premiered on the network in early 2016.

On August 30, 2016, Babyface was revealed as one of the celebrities who will compete on season 23 of Dancing with the Stars. He was partnered with professional dancer Allison Holker. He and Holker were eliminated on the fourth week of competition and finished in 11th place along with Vanilla Ice and Witney Carson.

Soda Pop Records

Edmonds founded his record label Soda Pop Records in 2009. Since founding the label he has signed R&B icons K-Ci & JoJo, releasing their first album for the label entitled My Brother's Keeper. In 2013 Babyface secured a distribution deal with E1 Music for the label.

Personal life

Babyface married his first wife, Denise during his young adult years. In 1990, Babyface met Tracey Edmonds when she auditioned for the music video for his song "Whip Appeal". They married on September 5, 1992, and have two sons, Brandon and Dylan. On January 7, 2005, Tracey filed for divorce in Los Angeles County Superior Court, citing irreconcilable differences. In October 2005, Babyface and Tracey announced that they were ending their marriage of thirteen years.

In 2007, Babyface began dating his backup dancer Nicole "Nikki" Pantenburg (former backup dancer for and personal friend of Janet Jackson). In 2008, Babyface and Nicole welcomed a daughter. The pair married on May 17, 2014.

In 2015, Babyface donated money to the presidential campaign of Republican Senator Marco Rubio.

Legacy

In 1999, a 25-mile (40-km) stretch of Interstate 65 that runs through Indianapolis was renamed Kenneth "Babyface" Edmonds Highway.

Discography

with Manchild

Power and Love (1977)

Feel the Phuff (1978)

with the Deele

Street Beat (1983)

Material Thangz (1985)

Eyes of a Stranger (1987)

with Toni Braxton

Love, Marriage & Divorce (2014)

Solo

Lovers (1986)

Tender Lover (1989)

For the Cool in You (1993)

The Day (1996)

Face2Face (2001)

Grown & Sexy (2005)

Playlist (2007)

Return of the Tender Lover (2015)

Accolades

On August 30, 2006, Babyface was honored as a BMI Icon at the 6th annual BMI Urban Awards. Throughout his career, Babyface has won the BMI Pop Songwriter of the Year trophy seven times and a total of 51 BMI Awards, which includes Song of the Year for his Toni Braxton hit, "Breathe Again", in 1994.

Babyface was honored with the 2,508th star of the Hollywood Walk of Fame on October 10, 2013. The star is located at 6270 Hollywood Boulevard.

Wikipedia

[cheelchan]

band!jk 03 (T)

→ summary: “drunk jungkook is best jungkook.”

→ premise: “BTS is a well-known band that regularly releases songs, but the identities of their members are kept as a secret. You’re very much into them, much to the struggle of your best friend, Jungkook, who regularly stresses with the fact that he’s actually part of BTS, but he can’t muster the courage to tell you and confess his feelings to you.” drabble au

→ genre/au: secret band!BTS au, college au fluff, drinking

→ pairing: jeon jungkook | reader

→ word count: 2.7k

→ drabble series: 01 | 02 | 04 | 05 | 06 |

Drinking.

That was the one thing that you've always looked forward to after a grueling month that consisted of papers, reports, presentations, and examinations. You had to hold off drinking for a month, since it always made the beer taste better after a month of abstinence (and also, because you were cooped up in the library the whole time.) At the same time, beer always tasted better when you were already done with the semester, being so free from all the responsibilities of student life.

And that was why you were calling up your best friend to meet you outside of your go-to bar nearby school.

Jeon Jungkook was the best person to go drinking with. First, he always paid half of whatever you ordered, even if you consumed more than half. Second, because you consumed more than he did, you were always more drunk than him, and thus, you can always drink all your fatigue and worries away without a care. And last, you know you would always end up safe in your apartment, scratch-free the following morning.

You, of course, tried to let Jungkook have his fair share of drinking, since you also couldn't bear the guilt that you're always the drunk one, while he's the designated adult (even when the two of you were of the same age.) But, he always insisted that you enjoy the night, anyway, because he's really just fine with drinking only two or three bottles of beer. Four, if you push it, but that's his alleged 'still-sober' limit and that's when he usually stops. On the other hand, you continue on your own and drink six bottles, at the least, and sometimes, you go on as many as you want (and you'd never worry about alcohol poisoning because you would usually pass out by the ninth bottle.)

However, for some reason, the tables have turned because you are currently nursing a drunk Jungkook, who seemed like he already did some pre-game drinks before he met up with you. Something about his housemates celebrating something in his apartment, though he didn't elaborate further.

"You should've told me that you were already in a get-together with them already! I could've called someone else," you chided him, but all you ever heard was a snort from an only-slightly-buzzed Jungkook from an hour ago.

"You'd think you'd celebrate as much if it weren't me? I don't think so, babe."

You felt your heart skip a beat for a moment over what he had just called you. Jungkook never called you that or any term of endearment, but you knew that you should just blame it on the alcohol. Especially now that Jungkook was already talking a lot, a very carefree expression on his face, unlike the usual soft, adorable, but mischievous look he sported when he was with friends. In this case, Jungkook seemed like he didn't care about anything at all.

"So, why do you like BTS so much?" He asked, his voice slightly slurred from the alcohol he drank. For some reason, he was already on his seventh bottle (and to think he had some pre-game drinks!)

You scratched your head, wondering if you should tell him the truth. "Well, BTS is a pretty talented group and-"

"Well, I know that BTS is talented and really great!" For some reason, his smirk is a bit too smug than usual. "But, there should be some sort of reason, right? It just seems like you love us- I mean, them so much."

You didn't seem to catch the mistake that he made, however, as you mused inwardly why you did like the band so much, even when you didn't know them personally. You only knew their songs, and a bit of the background information they gave on some interviews and on-stage, but never more. You don't even know how they actually looked like.

"Some sort of familiarity, I guess? Their songs hit close to me and I feel so at home with their songs," you admitted, realizing that the lyrics to their words were too relatable. And their voices, they always resonated inside you, the pitches hitting close to your heart. And for some reason, their voices actually sounded so familiar....

"Why is everyone so loud here? Wait, let me sing so that I can also be as loud as them," Jungkook pronounced as he was about to stand on the table the two of you were seated on. Your eyes widened as you immediately tried to grab his arm, lunging towards his body so that you could stop him from standing on the table.

"Jungkook, no!"

"Jungkook, yes!" He grinned cheekily, but you had wrapped your arms around him, taking note that he smelled really fresh, especially with the cologne that he regularly uses. You've always forgotten to ask him what scent it was, but it actually suits him a lot.

"This is not fair! You know that I'm not going to push you away if you're going to hug me so tight!" Jungkook pouted.

You nodded, agreeing to what he said. "I'm going to do everything to my best ability to take care of drunk Jungkook. So, you might, as well, stay there so that it won't cause us trouble. I don't wanna get kicked out and banned from this bar, you know. It took us forever to find THE bar," you reminded him as he simply blinked his eyes. 

You sighed, wondering if this was your karma coming back to you after you did this to him so many times. After making him promise that he wasn't going to sing or stand on top of the table, you released him from your hold. 

One time when the two of you went out for karaoke, he told you that he didn’t sing because his voice was really bad and that it would trigger some pain on his throat, which was why the two of you never went to karaoke after that one time.

"Do you like me?" Jungkook asked, an innocent question it would seem, but for you, it meant something else.

"Of course, I do like you, Jungkook. Why else would I hang out with you always?" You tried to play it cool, but you could feel your heart beating fast. In fact, you were thankful that you weren't hugging him anymore, because he would've definitely noticed that your heart was beating so fast. You knew there was a reason to it, but you didn't want to confirm anything, especially since you didn't want to end your friendship with Jungkook.

"Well, I don't know," he raised his shoulders. "I just wanted to know if you liked me, because well, you see." His words were still slurred, but for some reason, you could feel his sincerity. "Well, I, um, you see, I-"

"You?" Your breath hitched for some reason but you didn't want to overthink. After all, a drunk man was still drunk and he could say the most meaningless things, but at the same time, they did say that drunk words are sober thoughts.

Jungkook opened his mouth, but whatever he was supposed to say was interrupted by the sudden arrival of one of his housemates, Kim Namjoon.

"I didn't know the two of you were here!" Namjoon casually beamed, interrupting whatever Jungkook was about to say. You sighed in relief, though you weren't exactly sure why you felt relieved. 

Maybe because you didn't need to confront anything.

"This girl, over here, called me up saying that since her semester is finally over, she gets to celebrate," Jungkook's tone makes it clear to Namjoon that he's clearly smashed, but the other guy simply smiled in response. You swore to God that they spoiled Jungkook so much.

"Your semester's going to end next week, Jungkook. But, they're all papers anyway. So, please let me enjoy this," you muttered as Jungkook simply huffed and pouted, much to the amusement of the older guy.

“But, I’m also celebrating, of course, because BTS just sold a million copies for their latest album,” Jungkook grinned as your eyes widened in surprise.

“Really?” You screeched. “How did you know about that?” You asked him as Jungkook gave a smirk and was about to answer, but Namjoon had beaten him to it.

“Work. There’s going to be an article about it soon.” He forced a smile on his own, but you decided not to push anymore. Maybe because it would’ve costed his company views on their website. Namjoon was working in a digital news company that uploaded their articles online, rather than printing them. So, it shouldn’t be surprising that Namjoon was aware of this kind of information once in a while. After a while, Namjoon excused himself for a moment, heading to the restroom, while you were left with an intoxicated Jungkook who was still far from sobering up.

However, you didn’t expect Jungkook to stand up all of a sudden, much to your surprise. He directed a grin towards you. “I’m craving for lamb skewers. Let’s go no-woah.” Jungkook stumbled on his feet as you immediately tried to help him up. He had an apologetic look on his face. “That must be because I was going to get lamb skewers without my future business partner.”

You scrunched at his obvious reference to Min Yoongi. “I’m pretty sure it’s because you’re drunk right now,” you murmured, but Jungkook’s sharp ears obviously picked up what you just said, even if he was already drunk.

“I’m not drunk!”

“Said every drunk person,” you muttered.

However, he wanted to prove otherwise to you, as he tried to steady himself, holding your cheeks with both of his hands. He leaned closer to you, your faces a few inches away from each other. Your breath hitched on your throat as you realized the proximity of your faces against each other.

“See! I can even stand properly!” He exclaimed in delight at said feat.

You swallowed the growing lump on his throat as you tried to turn away from him, but he had a tight grip on your cheeks. “I-I know. I can see that,” you stuttered, feeling a bit awkward.

“You know, I just realized the you look a lot prettier up close,” he mused out loud as he directed a smile on you, while moving his face closer to yours. You stared back at him as you realized that his eyes were focused straight on yours, as if you felt some sort of affection or attraction (or both) from the way he looked at you. You closed your eyes all of a sudden, a bit unsure on what else you should do. However, what you didn't expect was the sudden heavy weight on your shoulder.

It was Jungkook, all passed out.

You heaved out the breath that you didn’t realize you were holding in the entire time as Namjoon arrived from the restroom and asked what had happened. You immediately passed Jungkook off to the older guy, telling him that you had to go pay the bill. After you paid the bill, Namjoon offered to walk you home, but you shook your head, pointing to Jungkook who was heavy to carry. You could see the hesitation on Namjoon’s face, but you reassured him that you were going to text him when you got home since your house was fortunately just a few blocks away from the bar. You left the two of them as they waited for a cab going home, while you immediately ran on your way home after bidding them (or maybe, just Namjoon) good night.

The reason why you didn’t want Namjoon to send you home was that you didn’t want him to realize that you were trying to calm down your heart that was beating too fast and the butterflies that were fluttering inside your stomach. Plus, you didn’t want to talk to anyone as you tried to process what happened the entire night. Jungkook was probably just drunk, but you had to reflect on what you were actually feeling.

Maybe, it was just the alcohol (you insisted that two bottles was already many). Or the lack of a boyfriend (you’ve never had one since high school). Or the atmosphere since people were making out with each other in the bar you were in (there was that one couple at the side).

Well, it was probably one of those things, since there couldn’t be possibly any other reason for you to feel so flustered by what just transpired.

It didn’t take long for you to reach home since you were running really fast to help yourself sober up. Right after you texted Namjoon that you had arrived home, you immediately passed out on your bed, not even bothering to wash up because you were just too tired to care.

You woke up to the sound of your door opening, since you were always a light sleeper. It was a sheepish-looking Jungkook, who looked all too well and fine, despite the fact that he was practically hammered the previous night. It was just so unfair, especially since you would have been complaining about a hangover right now if you drank as much as he did last night.

“Good morning?” He greeted with an awkward chuckle as he entered your room, freshly cleaned up with a cup of your favorite coffee that he always complained about being overpriced.

You looked down, feeling a bit awkward after the events last night. You honestly did not expect that you would see him in your room as soon as you woke up. Still, you accepted the cup of coffee from him. “It’s surprising that you’re awake when you were really drunk last night.” You gave an awkward laugh, hoping that he wouldn’t sense it, but the cringe on his face told you that he might have.

“I know what I did. And I’m really sorry if I did that,” he apologized in an instant, bowing in a ninety-degree angle, his eyes closed, sincerely hoping that you would forgive him for what he did last night.

Which one, though?

You swallowed the growing lump on your throat, trying to keep down the urge to puke you felt all of a sudden. It was as if the butterflies that you felt fluttering inside your stomach last night died and you had to let them out now as puke. 

"It wasn't really anything, you know. I mean, it didn't mean anything to me." You tried to to conceal the complex emotions you were feeling at the moment, knowing that you didn’t want to destroy the friendship you had with Jungkook.

"I know it wasn't. I mean, it was your favorite bar and if I continued with whatever drunk Jungkook wanted to do, you might have been banned forever from the bar. So, thank you for stopping me from doing anything reckless."

What did he just say? You blinked your eyes for a moment as you turned back to your college best friend, realizing that what he might be referring to wasn't what you thought.

"I was going to stand on the table, right? And shout at other people? That's obviously really embarrassing. I can't remember anything from last night, but thank you for stopping drunk Jungkook from whatever. You're definitely the best!" He grinned, raising his thumbs up towards your direction.

Suddenly, the urge to puke went away. And at the same time, you couldn't help yourself from teasing him. "Well, drunk Jungkook was certainly really funny last night. He might have told me a few things that I don't want to forget."

Suddenly, the last words he told you before he passed out went through your head again, making you blush in an instant.

“You know, I just realized the you look a lot prettier up close.”

"Wait. What? What did I say?" Jungkook started to panic as you gave a nervous chuckle. You could see a dreadful expression appearing on his face, probably from whatever thing he imagined telling you. You smiled to yourself, knowing that this was your way for getting back at him for making you feel so flustered the night before.

"Who knows, Kookie. Who knows."

[pomegranctes]

u could stop at 5 or 6 stores... or jus 1

vesper ophelia reeve !

this is vesper my mc’freakin BABY.......

hayley law fc whom is not a tragic ass shit full of teenage angst despite that bein my speciality bcos i lov torturing my chars xDD

was raised by two hippie, nirvana searching, lush loving moms who cherished and loved vesper after finding her abandoned in a stroller at stanley park </3

despite being adopted and left on a huge fricken island she really doesn’t feel any resentment towards her birth parents ? she jus p much feels indifferent like isn’t in any rush to meet them and is jus content with where she is rn so don’t count on any philo soul searching

so like i said her moms were hella hippie and vegan and socialist and true believers in becoming one with the world, saving it, etc like they were jus super passionate bout making everything a better place and after adopting vesper that need only intensified as they wanted the best for their lil girl<3

like her parents, she grew up super healthy and earth loving and all-in-all an advocate for peace on earth and all this

it was NAWT easy to make friends tho bcos she was always the weird girl who only ever had thrift shop clothes ( before it became a #trend and was jus a sign of how broke u were xDD ) and never wore makeup but being the toughie she is, she stuck through it without complaint

she still shops at the thrift store tho bcos capitalism

attempted to have a rebellious teen stage after watching thirteen and took up smoking, ate some meat, pierced her nose, and did all this stupid stuff to fit in with everybody else but knew it wasn’t her crowd so she gave that up pretty quick and chalked it up to a learning experience

after graduating, with a heavy heart she said good bye to her moms and took off her london to study environmental law and she says it’s to save the bees and all this and convinces herself that’s why but she’s got an ulterior motive which p much just to have a mc’blast in london but her whole “i am above insouciance, all for the greater good, etc” mindset makes her feel almost guilty about it

since being in london tho she’s seen some things, learned some things, is p much now realizing that wanting to have fun for herself without the whole vegan guilt catching up to her isn’t that bad??? she knows that u gotta put urself first huns Xx

has a bubbly and approachable exterior but lowkey inside she still gets self conches about being the weird girl and will have these bouts where she doubts every fricken friendship she’s ever had

loves trying new things all the time and even if that restaurant you ate at last week gave you the shits but the food was good she’ll take the risk of food poisoning just to have that experience

is hella quirky but not in a bella thorne licking gregg skulkin way more in a hippie who listens to the weirdest music and loves orange pulp

works as a radio host for imperial college where she talks philosophy, feminism, and plays indie rock trash

leeder matheus sousa !

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zU13Ql0HRJc

i was not memeing around when i said that i was gonna make a rudy cult leader muse after watching that vid

his name is leeder but prefers people calling him leeds bcos even he can see the disgustign pun

grew up in vegas to some major gambling parents who ran off to sin city for a good time but got caught up in the fancy lights and found that they jus couldn’t leave ? eventually got knocked up and had leeder and would you know it, he was named after a slot machine

his life fluctuated from dinners at upscale restaurants to panhandling outside a casino and p much grew up having to take care of himself all the time what with his parents gone all the fricken time wasting their money

he tried confronting them about it once but things got out of hand too quickly and he ran away from home for a week but his parents hardly noticed his absence the times that they were home and just figured he was in his room or at a friend’s

at 15 he knew he had no savings or anything, he figured as much with his parents, so ever since his first job he started saving up whatever money he could in some last ditch self preservation

at 17 now he runs away just to see what would happen and he isn’t that shocked when there’s no milk carton portraits and no breaking news stories about a missing kid in vegas but some small part of him still held out that hope and was resentful for it

that stunt hella shaped him and hardened him and ever since then, he grew up bitter and spiteful and is p much hella self preserved and will almost always do whatever is best for himself even if other peepz are collateral

so anyway at 22 he basically formed his own cult :P he would scout and pick up these lost runaways and tell them all about “finding themselves” and all this load of bs and got them to believe they were leaving behind their old messy lives in favour of a sort of paradise which was p much just them being high off their minds a good amount of the time and strumming some shit music around a bonfire while they slept in tents outside his own decked out bungalo

so yea he got this cult going and on the low was dealing w some hella drugs and trafficking p much anything and everything and then disater strikes, shit hits the fan, there’s people after him, the whole lot which drove him to leave the country and come to london, hence why he’s here now :P

he still got some connections so he used those and got back into the whole drug thing and is now jus trynna find some new recruits to join his cult ( plot idea mayhaps :P )

hudson kirk schrader !

nickname is schrader but feel free 2 call him hudson, he jus goes w the flow :P

honestly been watching too much fricken workaholics

he’s deadass 100% blake and so catch me copying and pasting his bio

a hella burnout who faked some bullshit illness he searched up on wikipedia and got a medical marijuana lisence for it. how he pulled it off exactly is still unknown, even to himself ( believe it or not, he was high when he did it )

grew up in rancho cucamonga his whole life and the only time he saw outside of it was the one roadtrip he took to los angeles but he surprisingly hated it and he says its bcos the city is too big but he knows it’s bcos some guy he met at the beach called his sandals ugly and people laughed

his parents divorced when he was like 9 so he’s got two younger half siblings but he only sees them like once a month. he doesn’t mind though, they’re all p close and there’s not some family vendetta or anything lolz his parents still get along and all that

despite being stuck there though, he made the most of his small city life and grew up with a positive outlook on everything like u really cannot catch him thinking the glass is half empty

lives for the weekends. only works as a telemarketer/salesperson and yea it’s a shit job with no time off and a poor salary but does he care ? as long as it’s enough to keep living, he’s content

diet p much consists of cheap beer and delivery pizza. ihop breakfasts when he’s feeling rich or p much jus craving pancakes at 3am

took a stripper class one time for the sicc experience but he tells everyone it was to look at half naked peepz

can and will shove an entire party platter of sliced salamis that fell on the floor into his mouth if it means he’ll make some money off of it, even if it’s only $5 bcos hey, that can at least cover his tab at the bowling alley

he's the guy at the party who makes a massive cheese and cracker sandwich called the eliminator

enjoys pitting people against each other but not in a shit ass annoying naslund way or a devil reincarnate lourdes way more in a “hey what’ll happen if i do this” knowing dam well what will happen but going for it anyways

strange personality makes him interesting and fun 2 hang with but also a lil bit misunderstood bcos he jus trynna b himself </3

is a good friend who’s willing to take risks and try new things and he’ll trick u into joining him for a night you’ll never forget mostly bcos of the tattoo and the scar and the croatian wife u now have

a weirdo w self confidence who can pick up on that rude thing u said about his mom but spends too long thinking of a slick comeback and by the time he figures it out the conversation has already taken four different turns

understands human psyche and knows that u lose a woman when u forget 2 cherish her but honestly he’s always there if u need a pal to lean on and he will do anything in his power 2 make sure ur okay

spends his off time people watching on top of his house. deadass has got lawn chairs, a cooler, and everything set up on there and even after breaking his collorbone when he fell off, he refuses to listen to the safety concerns of his neighbours and p much the general public

truly has no story for how he got to london, jus decided to pick up and leave one day and is p much living the same life he lived in america but different setting :P